//------------------------------// // Jackson Blues // Story: A Seed in the Big Easy // by The Blue EM2 //------------------------------// The experience never changed, despite Babs’ best hopes. Flying had always been a torturous experience for her, but at least last time she’d been on her own. This time, however, there were two teachers, and more than 20 students, all roaming about the cabin and asking questions. “Can I swap seats with you Raindrops? Please?” asked one of the girls. “I want to sit with my friends, so no,” Raindrops replied. She was next to Silverstream and Featherweight, and behind them were Babs and Tender Taps. This girl walked over to Babs and smiled. “Can I swap seats with you?” “They assigned us these seats for a reason,” Babs replied. “If we’re all in different seats, they won’t be able to assess where we are.” The girl simply sulked and walked off. “Besides,” Tender spoke up, “I like this arrangement.” “Course ya would!” Babs laughed. The booking-in experience had been chaos, to say the least. 30 students constantly rearranging and not standing in alphabetical order had frustrated the staff to no end. They had through (eventually), even if some people didn’t seem to understand how to talk to Security. However, that wasn’t helped by the fact the one Babs got was rather jovial, which she had no idea how to react to. She’d answered his questions completely straight and was eventually let through. After quickly grabbing something to eat (timings were a little tighter, so she simply got a burger and fries), she’d had to dodge fast moving commuters in business suits, as well as the pigeons known as her classmate's intent on ‘borrowing’ her food without giving it back. Eventually, they had boarded the flight, Delta Airlines 2479, and started playing musical chairs with the seats. Which brings us back to the present. There was a loud click above them, and Babs noticed the seatbelt sign had illuminated, so quickly buckled hers up. This was promptly followed by the flight safety brief she had seen a million times before. Take-off had been fairly uneventful, and their luggage was safe down in the hold. Upon reaching cruising altitude (and Babs successfully avoiding being sick) the in-flight intercom activated. “Good Morning Ladies and Gentlemen,” said the intercom. "This is your Captain speaking. We have just lifted off from JFK, and are due in to Louis Armstrong International Airport at 1:40 PM. Local time is 11:00 in the morning, so please reset your watches. Flight time is estimated to be two hours and forty minutes.” As previously, the seatbelt sign switched off. “Around an hour before landing, a light lunch will be provided, and hot and cold beverages will be served during the flight. We at Delta hope you have a pleasant trip.” Tender was looking out of the window. “Wow! He cried. “Look at that! New York looks so tiny!” Babs laughed. “You’ve never been on a plane before, have you?” “No,” Tender replied. “In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever left the New York area. But it’s amazing! It’s like looking at a scale model.” “There’s the Hudson!” called Featherweight. “Could you lean forward a bit?” asked Raindrops. “I can’t see the view below.” “Can you see Rhode Island from here?” asked Silverstream. “Not from this altitude,” Babs answered. “It’s too small!” The others laughed, whilst Silverstream went crimson. “Very funny,” she answered. But then, below them, the city of Philadelphia flew by them, and like true Americans, they saluted the flag. “We hold these truths to be self-evident,” began Tender Taps, “that all men-” Babs and Raindrops glared at him. “-and women are created equal, that they are endowed with certain unalienable rights, that amongst these are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.” “That’s good!” Featherweight added. “Memorised any other documents?” “I’ve got all 10 Amendments of the Bill of Rights in here.” “Do the Gettysburg Address, please!” Silverstream squealed. In many ways, she reminded Babs of that friend of her cousin, Sweetie Belle. Tender Taps smiled. “Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent, a new nation, conceived in Liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal. “Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation, or any nation so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure. We are met on a great battle-field of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion of that field, as a final resting place for those who here gave their lives that that nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this. “But, in a larger sense, we can not dedicate—we can not consecrate—we can not hallow—this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us—that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion—that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain—that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom—and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.” There was applause in the cabin. “Bravo!” called a passenger. “You should run for Congress!” called another. “Thank you,” Tender Taps replied. The flight touched down on time, which was nothing short of a miracle. The passengers were keen to get off, and the 5 friends filed through the terminal to baggage reclaim. This was were some problems became apparent. Each student had been given a colour coded tag to identify their case, but this system rapidly broke down as it emerged several students hadn’t bothered to apply theirs. Babs pulled her case off the turnstile before another student grabbed it. “Hey!” “That’s my case Babs!” “No, it isn’t, mine has a blue tag on it!” “It is!” “It isn’t!” “It is!” Babs got tired of this, and laid the case down, opening the top to reveal her name tag. “Unless your name is Babs Seed, I suggest goin’ and findin’ yer case!” she snapped. Silverstream lugged her case over to Babs, followed by Raindrops. “Who’d have known a task as simple as collecting a case would be so difficult?” she asked. “God only knows,” Raindrops replied. “How I’d be without you!” added Featherweight. The five of them stood up. “Hey,” asked Raindrops, “we all brought our instruments, right?” Babs, Raindrops and Tender had their guitars on their backs. Featherweight laughed. “The piano was a little unwieldy.” “At least most places will have drumkits,” Silverstream noted. “Everyone!” shouted one of the teachers, Jelly Roll. “Listen up please! We will be catching a hired coach to our hotel on Charters Street. Follow me and Mr Royce!” Tender Taps laughed. “I can’t be the only one to find that funny, right?” “What’s the joke?” Raindrops asked. “Mr Rolls and Mr Royce. Don’t you get it?” “Er, no,” Babs admitted. “Rolls-Royce! The famous car manufacturer and aero-engine research corporation.” A lightbulb went off in their heads. “Ohh.” They went outside into the freezing cold, and boarded their coach, which set off into the streets of New Orleans. Mr Royce stepped up to give the students the history lecture. “Good afternoon everyone!” he called. “As we travel into the city, please take notice of what I am telling you.” Silence fell almost immediately. “New Orleans, as the name suggest, was originally settled by the French and named in honour of Orleans in France. and to this has an extensive Cajun population. However, there is also a diverse African-American community here, due to the influence of Baratarian Pirates. In 1803, the city was handed over to the United States as part of the Louisiana purchase. Then, in 1815 the city was attacked by the British as part of the War of 1812.” He paused for dramatic effect. “But our heroic troops, a mixture of white, black and Indian soldiers under the command of Andrew Jackson, drove them out of the city at Chalmette. We’ll be going there on the last day of the trip. In 1862, the city was seized from Confederate Control and became a key Union supply base.” Mr Rolls then took over. “In the 1920s, the city was a hotbed of Jazz, and this was what helped propel it to international stardom. But more significantly, it was where the Higgins LCVP was invented.” “What’s an LCVP?” asked a student. “Landing Craft Vehicle Personnel,” Babs told him. “It was this remarkable craft that made so many amphibious landings possible,” continued Mr Rolls. “New Orleans is still recovering from Hurricane Katrina, but the pioneering spirit that embodies the city is still there today.” The coach entered the city proper, driving through the dense streets and heavy traffic before stopping in front of the hotel. As they got off and prepared to offload their bags, Babs suddenly spotted something moving on the street, and pulled her phone out of her pocket. The object in question was a streetcar! It rolled up the street at speed, toward the next station and rumbled over the junction toward them, running quickly and then rolling to a stop behind the coach. The streetcar was painted red, with a cream roof, and clerestory valances along the top of the roof. It was mounted on two bogies, each with four wheels, and the windows were painted yellow. They had two overhead power connectors rather than pantographs, and were an icon of the city. The city had once had over 20 lines, but had been cut to just one (St. Charles) by 1990. However, the city reopened several of them, and once again did these magnificent machines race up and down the streets. Babs was so amazed by this sight that she didn’t notice one of the boys sniggering at her. “Oh look!” he snorted. “Babs’ is gonna piss herself over a lump of metal!” Babs swung round. “Hey! You can’t talk, given the fascination you have with that lump of plastic and silicon in your hand!” The boy, rather wisely, beat a hasty retreat. Featherweight stepped over to Babs. “Hey, these look like the ones you have in those Canterlot photos you showed me!” he said. “That’s because, I found out, Canterlot ordered several 2000 series streetcars as well. Boy are they good!” “Beats having to use a car or taxi,” Raindrops admitted. “Can we go indoors please?” Silverstream asked. “It’s a bit cold out here.” In they went, and were issued their key cards and rooms. The 5 friends were on floor 3, split between two rooms. The girls were in room 301, the boys in 302. They almost immediately ran into a problem. Raindrops touched the lift button, but nothing happened. “It’s not working!” she protested. “Well, push it again!” Tender suggested. That didn’t work either. Luckily, a member of hotel staff saw their problem, and came over to assist. “You need to put your card on the button for it to accept,” she explained. “It’s a security measure.” “Thanks!” Babs replied. Up they went, and into the rooms they walked. Their jaws dropped when they saw the rooms. Each room was very roomy, and consisted of a small kitchenette, two or three beds, and a washroom. “Each part of this room is the size of a usual hotel room!” Silverstream exclaimed. “That it is,” Raindrops nodded. “Still, an improvement over the Hotel Pennsylvania, eh?” Babs laughed. “Do not mention that place again!” Raindrops despaired. “Let’s put our bags down and head back to the lobby.” After unloading their cases, the girls decamped to the lobby, where they were gathered together by the teachers. “Listen up everyone! We will now be heading into New Orleans proper. We are walking through the French Quarter, and will then spend some time in Jackson Square.” So off they went, winding through the vintage streets and past the beautiful old buildings with cast iron railings and flat ceilings. Whilst Silverstream was looking around in amazement, Babs kept her head on the swivel. She knew enough of cities to be sure to stay aware. They arrived in Jackson square, which consisted of a garden with a huge statue of Jackson himself. At the back of the square was the Cathedral, and buildings flanked proceedings. There were also musicians wandering around, playing every now and then. But Babs was suddenly wary, looking around her. “Babs?” asked Tender. “Is something wrong?” But Babs was lost elsewhere. There was a man with yellow skin and brown hair wandering toward her. “Hey!” he called. “You wanna take look inside?” “No,” Babs whimpered. “How did you get here?” “You look like the sorta person who would need one of my wares,” he smiled. “No!” Babs cried. “Leave me alone!” with that, she ran off into the crowd, toward the Mississippi river. Tender immediately set off after her. Babs was almost in a dream. How had that boy followed her here? She pushed through the throngs of people and sprinted straight across the streetcar lines-just seconds before the barriers descended. She ran up the stairs and stopped by a set of cannons to catch her breath, the icy cold air hurting her lungs. She looked back. “At least he can’t follow me here,” she sighed. “Babs!” called a voice. She saw Tender run over to her. “What was that about?” “It was one of my bullies!” she replied. “That was some store owner,” Tender replied. “The others are worried where you went.” Babs had no idea how to react. She didn’t need to though, as Tender pulled her into a hug. “I’m sorry,” she said sadly. “He looked like one of the boys who beat me up in Canterlot, and I guess I just panicked.” Tender nodded. “Hey, would a ride on the Riverfront line help calm you down?” “You’d do that for me?” “Absolutely. It’s what friends do.” Babs broke from the embrace and smiled. “Station’s just that way. We don’t want to sit next to the window though.” “Why?” Tender asked. “This is a 453 series. No climate control, so they are very cold in winder and can get very hot in summer.” “You know practically everything about these machines, don’t you?” After a most relaxing ride on a streetcar, and a superb dinner (which was gumbo and a Po’boy with fires for Babs) the evening schedule consisted of a visit to the New Orleans Museum of Transportation. It was full of vintage machines, several SD-40s, a GP-38, and of course a multitude of steam engines, largely nondescript 2-8-0s that were ten-a-penny in the US. But one exhibit was of particular interest. It had a long nose and heavy front end, with two bogies each with 6 wheels, and two pantographs, one at each end of the engine. The cab sat in the centre, with small windows to enable the driver to see where they were going. In a crest on the front end, the number 4859 was clearly displayed. The engine was painted dark green, with yellow stripes, and the sides of the engine proudly bore the text Pennsylvania. Babs looked at it in amazement. “I’ve seen this before!” she said. “In a movie or somethin’.” “These engines have appeared in more adverts and films than any other American electric locomotive,” said a voice behind her. A kind old man with white hair looked at her, smiling. “Name’s Lionel Jeffries,” he said. “I was one of the last drivers of these babies. GG1s, the Pennsylvania called them.” “What’s a Pennsy engine doin’ down here?” Babs asked. “It’s on loan from Harrisburg. These were the longest serving electric locos in history. January 28th, 1935 to October 29th, 1983. Almost 50 years continuous service. And so much more reliable than the modern locos.” “Why did they withdraw them?” “They were getting' old.” Jeffries wiped something from his eyes. “And there was some talk about PCBs. Not a single one has run since, and it’d be a massive amount of work to get one operational again.” He smiled. “But between you and me, I’d love to see one run again. You young kids have got the strength and vitality to do it. Us old guys don’t have it no more.” “Babs! We gotta go!” shouted Mr Royce. Babs turned to him. “Thanks sir.” “Not a problem. Now run along and have fun.” After getting back to their hotel room, Raindrops picked up her remote. “I wonder if anything good is on TV at this time of night?” she asked, as she hit the on button. “We are looking at the worst railroad disaster in the history of California. A speeding, out of control train, loaded with toxic chemicals, is bearing down on Canterlot.” “Wait, what?” Babs asked. “That’s where my cuz’ lives!” She grabbed her phone and dialled Apple Bloom. No response. “Wait, listen!” called Silverstream. “Something else is happening!” “But we have just learned that another locomotive is chasing from the rear. A plan has been devised to stop the runaway train. The basic plan is to couple the engine to the rear, at speeds of around 70 miles an hour, and then bring it to a stop.” “That somehow sounds familiar,” Raindrops noted. Babs sighed. “I need to give my parents a Skype call. Keep me posted!” After firing up her laptop, Babs opened the app to see her parent’s faces. “Good evenin’ Babs!” “Mom, Dad, can you call Apple Bloom’s parents?” “Why?” “There’s some talk on the news of a runaway train approachin’ Canterlot. Cuz’ ain’t answerin’ her phone.” “We will call, don’t worry. How’s your day been?” “It’s been good thanks. Flight was uneventful, and we took a look around the Transport Museum. Even got a personal talk with one of the patrons.” “That’s wonderful! Now don’t stay up too late, you got a busy day tomorrow.” “Yeah, I need ta turn in. See ya tomorrow, love ya!” “Love ya too sweetie!” Babs got changed for bed, and hopped under the sheets, followed by her friends in their own beds. Before long, the three friends were fast asleep.