I entered the passenger car to be surrounded by a scene of merriment. Many children were seated inside the car, all laughing and playing with one another. All of them were dressed in nightwear of some description, and all of them seemed to be happy. Some were even engaging in a singalong of some old song. They were rather out of tune, but at least they were trying. After all, it’s the effort that counts!
I took my seat in one of the empty rows and slid up to the window, to see the countryside scrolling past me in the blackness. The light from the carriage window illuminated the partial gloom as we sped along, though I had no idea how the folks in the town were totally unaware of a massive steam engine and passenger train rolling along. It simply beggared belief!
I was interrupted from my thoughts when a voice spoke to me from in front. “Hey, you there?”
I looked up.
“Yes, you, redhead!” the voice said again. I saw the voice belonged to a girl with pink skin and white and pink hair, dressed in a purple nightgown and red dressing gown.
“Somethin’ ya need?” I asked.
“Do you know what kind of train this is?” the girl asked. “Oh, and I’m Diamond Tiara, by the way.”
“Ah didn’t get a proper look at the loco, but it looked ta be some sorta Berkshire,” I replied.
Another girl popped her head up over the seat. She had white skin and candyfloss hair, and her green eyes glimmered with intensity. “Don’t be silly, it’s a magic train!”
Diamond rolled her eyes. “It’s a Baldwin, silly. Built in 1931.”
Despite the glimpse I had of the engine, I had clearly seen several design features on it that were hallmarks of Lima. As Diamond rattled on, nobody particularly listening, the other girl extended her hand. She herself was wearing purple, which seemed to be a popular colour around here.
“I’m Sweetie Belle!” she exclaimed. “What’s your name?”
“Ah’m Apple Bloom.” I was intentionally succinct, and shook her hand in response.
“So,” Diamond cut in again, “Are we really going to the North Pole?”
“Of course, we are!” Sweetie Belle said. “Sometimes you need a little more faith.”
Just then, the conductor appeared again. Somehow, he reminded me of Tom Hanks. As he walked down the carriage, he called out. “Tickets, please!”
I looked about in confusion. “Ah don’t have a ticket sir. And mah nightgown has no pockets.”
He looked down. “Check your dressing gown pocket.”
I put my hand through the torn one.
“Check your other pocket.”
I put my hand in, and felt something shiny. I drew it out, and sure enough it was an old Edmondson ticket. It was coloured golden, and had an image of the engine emblazoned on it with the text ‘Polar Express’ stamped on top.
He took the ticket, and punched not one hole in the ticket, but hundreds. The speed at which he worked was incredible, and caused me to question whether I was truly awake, or had far too much cheese last night.
He handed the ticket to me, which now read ‘Polar Express’ through all the holes cut in it. Shame, as it ruined the picture of the engine.
Just then, the train began to slow down. The conductor activated the in-train intercom. “Ladies and Gentlemen, we do apologise for the abrupt change in speed, but we are arriving at our last scheduled stop before the North Pole. Repeat, this is the last stop before the North Pole. This train is now calling at Peters’ Avenue.”
The train rolled to a complete stop, and we saw the door open on the house. The conductor hopped out onto the foot platform, and as we watched a girl with purple hair and orange skin stepped out of the house and toward him. She was dressed in a pair of purple pyjamas and had a blue dressing gown on.
“Well, ya comin’?” the conductor asked, giving his typical spiel.
I saw the girl say something, but at that distance I couldn’t make out what she was saying.
“To the North Pole, of course!” exclaimed the conductor, “this is the Polar Express!”
The girl just looked at him, dumbfounded.
“Well,” the conductor boomed. “Suit yourself.” He climbed back aboard, and the train started to move away, faster and faster.
But to my shock, the girl began to run after the train, and grabbed onto the handrail on one of the cars. But by this point the train was going much too fast. The girl couldn’t hold on, and she let go, falling onto the floor as she did so with her face in the snow, no doubt freezing by now.
I looked back. “We have ta stop the train!” I cried.
“But how?” asked Sweetie Belle.
Diamond Tiara pointed to a red lever on the back wall. “Throw the Emergency Brake!” she cried. “That’ll bring the train to a swift and effective stop!”
I ran over to the lever, and put both of my hands on it. I tugged with all my might, but at long last it came free and slammed downward. The brake blocks slammed on throughout the train, and there was a terrible screeching and groaning noise as the train ground to a halt, sending everybody flying.
I looked back, and saw the girl successfully climb aboard. But she didn’t move forward to the front of the train like the rest of us. Instead, she walked back into the observation car.
Before any of us could question this, a loud voice shouted, “Who pulled the emergency brake?”
It was the conductor. And boy did he look cross.
Diamond Tiara was quick to act. “She did!” she shouted, pointing at me.
The conductor walked up to me. “Are you some sort of saboteur?” he asked. “This is will compromise the timetable!”
I tried to stammer out some sort of response, but Sweetie Belle came to my rescue.
“She pulled the brake so that kid could get on!”
The conductor sighed. “Noble,” he said. “But this could cause us to run late. I have not been late before, and I do not intend for this year to change that!”
As the train got going, he walked over to the train intercom. “Are any passengers in need of refreshment?” he asked.