As the train got going, he (the conductor) walked over to the train intercom. “Are any passengers in need of refreshment?” he asked.
There was a cheer from all of the children onboard.
The conductor smiled. “I thought so.”
Just then, the door at the opposite end of the carriage opened, and out came a trolley with dancing chefs. Transforming the chairs into tables, and swinging some around to be opposite the direction of travel, they dispensed coffee cups and served, quite simply, the most delicious hot chocolate I have ever tasted.
It was hot, and thick, and creamy, so much so I think they may have overdone the milk a tiny bit. But it was much needed refreshment from the intense cold. We all had our fill of the delicious substance, as one cup was enough to satisfy our thirst. And just as suddenly as they had appeared, they vanished back up the train. The seating was reset, and the tables vanished as if they had never been there.
Even more did it become apparent to me that this might not be real. I mean, on how many railways do you get served that quickly, and to that high quality? It was like the old stories I had read of what the railways used to be. Of course, Canterlot lost its rail connection a long time ago, well before I was born.
The conductor addressed us again. “We should be at the North Pole within the hour. Please relax and enjoy the trip.” He then stepped forward and went to go through the door.
I noticed Sweetie Belle pick up a mug of hot chocolate from underneath her seat.
“How’d you find that?” I asked.
“The kid in the observation car didn’t get any,” she explained. “So I’m gonna take her some.”
She walked to the back door of the carriage, when Diamond Tiara shouted, “It’s a federal offence to cross between train cars without a responsible adult!”
This, it seems, caught the conductor’s attention, as he walked back toward the back of the carriage. “Excuse me, young lady, but what are you doing?” he asked.
Sweetie Belle turned to him, and tried to do her best adorable face. “Please sir,” she said, “but there’s another child in the observation car who didn’t get any hot chocolate.”
“You want to take her some?” the conductor asked.
Of course, she did. What else did it look like? But she simply said to him, “yes sir, I do.”
He nodded. “By all means, we shall.” He opened the door, and dropped the foot ramp, and away they went into the bitter cold.
When they went, I noticed something was amiss. “She forgot her ticket!” I exclaimed.
“Why not just leave it there and wait until they get back?” Diamond Tiara asked.
“What if he asks fer it in the observation car, and she doesn’t have it?” I reasoned. “He’ll throw her off the train!”
“Well, you’d better take it to her, hadn’t you?” Diamond retorted.
I got up, took the ticket in my hand, and crossed to the gap before us. But the wind was fiercer than I thought, and the ticket blew out of my hand, into the air and heaven knows where!
I returned to my seat, dejected. I’d messed up, big time. This was even worse than that time I'd mixed up the cider crates and the jam ones.
Sweetie Belle came by, and looked down. “Hang on a minute, where’d my ticket go?” she asked, in alarm.
“Ah tried ta get it ta ya,” I said, “but it blew away.” I then handed my ticket forward to her. “Look, ya can have mine-”
“No!” the conductor hissed. “Those tickets are non-transferable. I’m afraid, Miss Belle, you’ll have to come with me.”
He led her toward the back of the train. I hung my head in shame, knowing I’d messed up, spectacularly. I’d probably got her thrown off the train. And she wouldn’t get to see the North Pole, or whatever it was we were going to see at the North Pole. How would you even build rails over the North Sea? The engineering would be stupendous, not to mention extremely expensive to maintain.
Suddenly, I became of a noise from an air vent. Suddenly, the ticket landed beside me.
“If Ah’m quick,” I said, “Ah can get the ticket ta her before he throws her off the train!”
I jumped up out of my seat, making sure to stick the ticket in my shoe this time. And I crossed over the carriage, and walked through the observation car. The girl was seated there, looking at the floor.
“Where’d they go?” I asked.
“Up on top of the train,” was all she said.
I ran onto the rear platform, and climbed up onto a latter. I reached the top of the carriage, and wandered forward through the snow. Up ahead I could see them walking along the top of the carriage. But they were getting further and further away.
“Hey!” I called. “Ah’ve got yer ticket!”
But the wind whipped my words away before they could hear them.
But there was the sound of music before I got there. For seated on top of the carriage, was none other than a man, playing an accordion and singing horribly out of tune.
He looked up at me. “What do you want?” he asked.