Thomas and Friends: The Retold Adventures

by The Blue EM2


Gallant Old Engine

Duncan had not stopped grumbling over the last few days. He grumbled that he wasn't polished, he grumbled he was overworked, and he'd even grumbled about the passengers! Why, only today he had prevented a train from getting into Rheneas station by stopping on top of the bridge. This had made everybody very annoyed, and not least Skarloey, who had now been backed into the shed by Ocellus. Both of them looked very annoyed.

"I'm ashamed of you, Duncan!" Skarloey snapped, his eyes full of anger. "Thank Trethivick that Rheneas is coming home tomorrow, perhaps he and his driver can teach you some sense before it's too late!"

Duncan rolled his eyes. "What is Rheneas to do with me?" he asked, annoyed that this mysterious engine was being mentioned yet again.

"Rheneas saved our railway," Skarloey said. "You may complain about the numbers of passengers Duncan, but truth be told, things were very different a few years ago."

"Please tell us!" Peter Sam asked from nearby. "I don't believe you've told us this one!"

Skarloey smiled as the screen suddenly went blurry.

"What's happening?" Ocellus asked, panicked.

"Don't worry, I'm only having a flashback," Skarloey said. "It happened before you came here, you see. The railway was in very bad shape, with broken buildings, damaged trucks, and poorly maintained coaches. Rheneas and I were the only things keeping the railway going, or else it would close."

"That sounds awful!" Silverstream exclaimed, her hands covering her mouth.

"It was," Skarloey replied. "I tried hard, but I was too old. My wheels ached badly, and I could not get up enough steam. But Rheneas, the kindly old soul he was, understood entirely. 'It's my turn now!', he said to me one day. He was old, like me, and often short of steam, but no matter what he always made it to a station and rested there... unlike a certain tank engine here."

Duncan growled at Skarloey, but otherwise said nothing.

"'I must never stop between stations!', he would say. 'Whatever would the passengers think?'"

"Yeah, right," Duncan snorted.

"Passengers," Skarloey continued, "get very cross if you stop in the wrong places. Rheneas stopped in the wrong place one time, and this is what happened..."

It was a wet, horrible, and rainy afternoon many years ago. The rails were damp, and the train was very heavy as the rain lashed down upon the Island of Sodor. Rheneas, an old tank engine with a four wheels, outside cylinders, a dome up against the cab, and a pair of squat side tanks, was rolling along with four coaches. At his controls was a girl with grey skin and brown hair, wearing a light red dress with a white shirt underneath, as well as black stockings and shoes. The train was packed, with some of the passengers being crammed into the guard's van!

"This is very slippery!" Rheneas exclaimed to his driver, as his wheels wouldn't grip the rails, and slimply slid in place. "Are you sure we can make it, Yona?"

"Yona knows Rheneas can make it!" Yona replied. "Yona knows Rheneas is hard working engine!"

This caused Rheneas to redouble his efforts, and he set off up the slope with renewed strength and determination. At last, the pair reached the top with the coaches, and they were at long last through the worst of it.

"Hooray!" Yona cried. "Yona knew we could do it!"

Rheneas smiled. "The worst is over," he sighed. "Now, it'll be easy." Had he not been so tired, he would have known better than to tempt fate, as a few seconds later, there was a loud clang of metal, and the train skidded to a stop. "Argh!" he cried. "I've got cramp!" And there he was, stuck, on the loneliest section of the entire railway.

Yona hopped down from the footplate and explained what had happened. "Yona see problem!" she said. "Valve gear on Rheneas is stuck. Next station not far. Yona think that Rheneas can make it there. Will you try, Rheneas?"

"I'll give it my best shot," Rheneas said grimly. He set off again in the pouring rain over the windswept moors and trees, his cylinder aching all the while. It was hard going for the old tank engine, and the train didn't make it easier at all, but he knew he had to try and complete the run. "If I fail," he thought, "the passengers will be cross and the railway will close!"

Everything went blurry thanks to the potent cocktail of tiredness and pain clouding his mind. He really didn't have the strength left in order to keep going, not even to make another turn of his wheels! But he made another turn, and another, and another, and another. After a long, hard journey, Rheneas arrived at Crovan's Gate, tired but triumphant. "I made it," he said quietly.

"Thanks for getting us home," said a man, whom Rheneas recognised as Mr Cup Cake, a local baker. "I'll be sure to tell the others about this railway, and how hard the engines work!"

Yona was proudest of all. "Rheneas is gallant old engine!" she said. "Rheneas shall be mended and made good as new!"



"...and," Skarloey smiled, as he finished his story, "Rheneas always was ready for another day."

The entire shed was in stunned silence, as people had been listening carefully to his story. Then Duncan ventured to speak. "Thanks for tellin' us that story Skarloey," he said. "I was wrong; passengers are important after all."

The next day, Rheneas returned from the mainland. Edward pushed his special truck into position, and a crane lowered him gently down onto the rails. A great chorus of whistles and cheers began from all assembled, and Rheneas was by far the happiest of them all. As Yona helped to free him from the supports, he smiled at Skarloey.

"You know," he said, with a smile, "this really helps an old engine feel he has really come home."

"And," added Mr Percival, "I heard glowing comments from the works staff about you, Yona. Or would you prefer Yvonne?"

"Yvonne is boring name!" Yona replied. "Yona prefer to be called Yona!"

Taking a moment to analyse the butchered English, Mr Percival smiled. "Yona, you shall be Rheneas' driver from now on. Welcome aboard!"

And truly was everybody happy that day.