//------------------------------//
// Chapter 6 
// Story: Apple Family Reunion 
// by The Blue EM2 
//------------------------------//

The locomotive and carriage workshop was located a short way north of the town of Cass, down a gravel road. This road ran parellel to the railway, before curving over the former alignment that ran to a place called Durbin, before it got washed out in a flood a long time ago. The road then curved across the railway line and passed the water tower, which was a favoured photography spot for, well, photographers, and followed the railway towards the workshop. This was a large building constructed from steel and concrete, and boasted four roads, each devoted to maintenance of a differing type. Inside, it was very dark, and a large number of different devices could be seen scattered about, ranging from wheel repairs to lifting bogies to even spot welding boilers, which was a tough and time consuming task, to say the least. The one thing they had never attempted at Cass, however, was to make a boiler. The site didn't have the resources to build such a thing, and as a result they tended to get replacement boilers for their Shays built at the Virginia Museum of Transportation, Virginia, or failing that at Spencer, North Carolina. But today, the works would be reunited with one of its former sons.

Bright Mac walked down the road as engine whistles continued to echo up and down the Pocohontas Valley. He walked along, listening to the gentle and idle talk from all around, gradually fading into the distance as he walked along. The air was beautiful and smooth, and gentle and wondrous in his nostrils, just as he remembered it from all those years ago. He took a left as he walked past the water tower, and walked towards the depot structure. It had changed little since he had last been here, and that was a relief to him, as that had been twenty years ago. He walked closer, and stepped inside, soaking up the smell of grease, oil, and coal. "It's good ta be back," he said, happily, as he walked over to Cass Number 5, and put his hand on the cab side. "Hello, old friend," he said quietly. It had been many years since he had last been on the footplate, but he was certain he still had it.

"Did you used to work here?" asked a voice, marked by a Scottish accent. Bright Mac looked over as he saw a man approaching. He had blue skin and wild brown hair, which would have made any Highlander proud, and he had a red moustache and beard (red being closer to ginger in this case, not literal red as might be the case). As would befit a man who worked in engineering, he currently wore a pair of engineering overalls combined with a white shirt and black boots. In his hands were a toolkit and a spanner, and he extended his hand. "Well?" he asked. "Did you used to work here?"

"Yeah," Bright Mac replied. "Ah did. Mah name's Bright Mac."

The man's face lit up. "Ah!" he said. "The Bright Mac! The one who still holds the Bald Knob ascent record!" He paused a moment, as if recalling something, and then proceeded to speak again. "Oh, where are my manners!" His hand took Bright Mac's. "My name's Rockhoof. I'm the chief engineer around here, and have been since 2000."

"Where did ya work before then?" Bright Mac asked him.

"Oh, in maintenance," Rockhoof replied. "I have an engineering degree, and spent most of my time building or fixing bridges. I fancied a change of pace, and so here I am, fixing steam engines instead. It's a lot more fun!"

Bright Mac laughed. "Ah can agree with that. Say, how's the brake ejector holdin' up on Number 2? It could be a little sticky back in the day, if ya know what Ah mean."

Rockhoof laughed at this. "Ah yes, we had issues with it back in the day too. We replaced it with a newer one, made right here, and nobody has had a problem with it since, you see!"

"Well, that's a relief," Bright Mac replied. He turned to go. "Ah'd better see how mah Ma and family are doin'. But it was great to meet up with ya."

"No problem," Rockhoof replied. "Hey, Valve Gear spoke to me about you. It seems you were pretty skilled, and we've got a pretty heavy train due out tomorrow. If you want, you can take up the engineer's position on the rear locomotive."

Bright Mac's jaw dropped in amazement. "Say no more!" he exclaimed. "Ah'm in!"



Meanwhile, the younger members of the reunion were on the other side of the town. To be precise, they were on the side of town furthest away from the depot, and Applejack was busy distributing rope to the kids.

"What's all this for?" asked one.

"Yeah?" Apple Bloom added, equally confused. "Ah kinda wanna catch up with Babs, that's all."

Applejack smiled. "Oh, you'll get plenty o'time fer catchin' up and family bondin' whilst competin' against yer fellow cousins." She stepped back, to check everybody was in the correct lines. "Ma put me in charge of keepin' you youngin's in good order and safe, and what better way than to engage in old fashioned, harmless fun?"

Babs looked down. "This looks worryingly like a three legged race," she said, looking worried. "I have terrible balance," she added.

"Then how did ya drive that GG1?" asked another child. "Seriously, we saw that in the news! Restoring an entire engine? Incredible!"

"That was mostly sitting down," Babs replied.

Applejack sounded an air horn very loudly. "Alright folks!" she called. "It's time fer a three stage competition. The first stage is the three legged race." Applejack pointed to a large flag.

"Whoa, is that the finish line?" Babs asked. "It's like a mile away or somethin'!"

"Actually," Applejack told her, "that's just the marker where you go on to the next leg of the race." She then pointed to a set of trees next to the path. "After bobbin' fer apples next ta the tree, you'll run around these trees fifty times until yer real good and dizzy." Then she indicated a set of wooden hurdles, and finally a pile of plates. " And then there's the final leg, where you'll balance plates on yer head while sayin' "Pappy people picked a pluck of prickly pluffnuggets" over and over and over again. Last pair standin' wins!"

Apple Bloom looked at her sister incredulously, and a look on her face which suggested she thought the entire idea was stupid. "Seriously?" she asked.

Applejack didn't reply, but instead stepped back, sounded her air horn, and waved her hands in a dramatic fashion. "What ya waitin' fer? Let's go and make some memories!"

The racers set off, in staggered lines, with some wobbling forward, and others struggling to stay upright as they ran along. Apple Bloom and Babs took the lead fairly early on, but coordinating foot movements proved to be insanely difficult, a situation not helped by the fact each girl naturally started walking on a different foot. The pair hobbled along, making for a most ridiculous sight, until at last they got to the trees. There, after apple bobbing, they began speeding round and round them, the world turning into a shapeless blur.

"How are Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle?" Babs gasped. "It's been a while since I last saw them!"

"Great," Apple Bloom groaned. "Not feelin' great."

"You OK?" Babs asked, not having caught the last part. The pair then toppled over onto the ground.

Later, they found themselves with the plates. Those spun around furiously as they tried to say the rhyme over and over. "Pappy people picked a pluck of prickly pluffnuggets!" the assembled children chorused.

"Any new students want to join the band?" Apple Bloom asked.

"We gotta few, drummers mostly," Babs replied. "One has the surname Starr, and rings a lot."

Suddenly noticing Applejack looking their way, they started repeating the rhyme over and over. "Pappy people picked a pluck of prickly pluffnuggets! Pappy people picked a pluck of prickly pluffnuggets! Pappy people picked a pluck of prickly pluffnuggets!"

Babs stopped. "Ah canth feel my tongue."

"Me neither," Apple Bloom replied.