//------------------------------// // Squashed Flatter than a Dime // Story: Thomas and Friends: Legends of Strasburg // by The Blue EM2 //------------------------------// Goldie needed some time to herself, and so temporarily excused herself from the rest of the group. She took a turn away from the main street and walked until the sound and hubbub of the human world had faded away, and she was now in the gentle landscape of nature. She took a seat on a nearby rock and looked about her, hearing the familiar whistle of a train in the distance. As she glanced over, she heard the gentle rumble of water over rocks, and the whistling of wind through the trees, and the hum of a nearby generator, and... a piano? "Hang on a moment," she said to herself. "I know this song." She had always wondered how her daughter and her friends had been able to launch off into sudden music numbers with absolutely no prompting or preparation for the music, and she figured this was how it happened. People just gained the knowledge of the music by osmosis and could just fill it in. Goldie looked up to the sky and decided she might as well go with the flow. It wasn't very often she got the chance to use her vocal chords for this anyway. "I know how the moon must feel/ Looking down from the heavens! Smiling at the silly things/ We put ourselves through. Missing magic each day/ and not seeing the wonder/ That's how the moon must feel! "I know how the moon must feel/ Starry eyed and contented! Everything is beautiful/ as it all should be. Far away from it all/ Never meaning to hurry/ That's how the moon must feel!" Figuring the next bit might need a bit more breath, Goldie stood up and walked next to a tree, whilst glancing down into a pond and seeing her reflection in it. "From up there our worries must seem very small! Maybe that is why he wears a smile! I'm sure he knows if there is more to life! I wish I could be him for a while! "I know how the moon must feel/ Looking down from the heavens! Smiling at the silly things/ We put ourselves through. Missing magic each day/ and not seeing the wonder/ That's how the moon must feel!" Goldie knew for certain that last sentiment was true to her- being away from her family for so long thanks to her work meant she had missed a lot of Sunny growing up. Since the tragic day that had nearly claimed Sunny's life, she had vowed to spend more time with her family, and luckily her new work arrangements made that a lot easier. "I'm sure he knows if there is more to life/ I wish I could be him for a while!" That was an unexpected change. Goldie shrugged and returned to the chorus, as the piano was leading her there. "I know how the moon must feel/ and I can't say I blame him! Smiling at the silly things/ We put ourselves through. Never taking our time/ Always running in circles/ That's how the moon must feel!" As the last note faded out, Goldie turned to leave, feeling as though she was alone. Having said all that, something in her wanted to find Sunny and check on her. She sighed. "How things have changed so fast for us. Whilst working from the UK certainly fits us being a family unit better, I miss the days when we were just an ordinary family. Being a collective wierdness magnet isn't always that much fun." As she was about to move off, a voice suddenly came from the nearby trees. "You have a beautiful singing voice." Goldie jumped and turned round to see the man in the dodgy suit from yesterday. "How long have you been there?" "A few minutes," Hoffman replied. "I like coming out here to get away from the world. It's certainly quite peaceful." Goldie was caught a little off guard by the response. Perhaps she had misjudged him and he'd committed a legitimate faux pas rather than be creepy. "Well, it can be nice for a change of scenery. I live next to the sea for the most part." She turned to leave again. "Now, I really must be going as I have things to-" "I'm here to make a proposition." Goldie stopped, and turned around. "I've already told you, I'm taken. Unless you mean something else." "That kid of yours works for the railroad right?" Hoffman said. "Yes," Goldie admitted. "Gets it from her father. Ever since she was little she basically dreamed of life on the rails. She never really played with dolls or girls toys. Most Christmasses it was Lego on her Santa list, almost exclusively rail or ship related sets. Having said that I've always been interested in engineering, so I've got a fair bit of Meccano lying about." She then stopped in her mind. "Wait a second. How do you know I have a daughter?" "I know ways of acquiring information." Hoffman nodded back, and looked unbelievably smug. "Well, I'm certain you wouldn't want your darling little girl out of a job, eh?" "She's actually average height for her a- what did you say?" "I'm certain you wouldn't want your darling little girl or your silly husband out of a job," Hoffman repeated. "The Strasburg Railroad is in financial trouble, and probably won't survive the season." Goldie had no way of independently verifying what Hoffman was saying, so decided to check this later. "I see. Why are you telling me this?" In her mind, she suspected he'd talked to Argyle. The way he's spoken about them was making her blood boil. "You should know why. You're a businesswoman. We businesspeople have to take chances when we can. And this is a perfect chance to strike. I'm offering to go into business. We could buy out the railroad. Transform it into something better. And you'll make a tidy profit, I'd wager. Clearly fitting for a woman with your looks." Goldie snorted in disgust. "I will not be complicit in the destruction of local heritage. And stop following me. The day I violate my marriage vows is the day Hell freezes over." She'd only made a few steps when she felt a hand come into contact with hers. "Will you reconsider your plan if I up my offer?" Goldie closed one of her palms so he couldn't see. "Consider this my response." She wheeled around and punched him in the jaw, her knuckles slamming into his cheek. Hoffman staggered back, looking confused. "What?" Goldie glared daggers at him. "That's me being nice. Stop following. Don't touch me. Consider that a warning- Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned." She walked away, shaking her head. "He's worse than Boomer. At least he had a concept of boundaries." Marilyn ran to a stop in the siding at the front of the headshunt, and looked down with relief. "Phew!" she said. "That was lucky! I was nearly through the buffers there!" Izzy looked out. "We are a bit close. That was certainly too close to call!" Marilyn laughed. "At least there are no borders near here for me to go flying over." "A border with no track?" Izzy giggled. "Who would be silly enough to try that?" She hopped out to change the switches and backed Marilyn into a rest siding when all was said and done. Another engine was now taking over for a bit, so Izzy took a break and popped into the mess hut to see Pipp and Zipp had apparently transformed the interior of the hut into a detective's office. Cool jaz played in the background in the darkened room on an old record player, and a board was illuminated and covered in information. A desk lamp glowed in the dark, and the blinds were down. "Ooh!" Izzy said. "I like what you've done with the place!" Pipp looked over. "I can't get a signal, though. This is really annoying!" "We've got bigger things to worry about Pipp," Zipp said, glancing at the desk again. "These clues are coming closer to being something coherent." "Whatcha found, Zipperooni?" Izzy asked, looking over the desk. "Hey! Squiggles!" Zipp shook her head. "Never call me that again. And a detail in Timber's story got me thinking. He mentioned a running number, 311. Obviously many locomotives carried that number throughout history, but I think I've narrowed down the specific one that he was referring to." Zipp opened a file and put a photograph down. "Clinchfield 311. Built by Baldwin in 1909 for the Clinchfield Railroad, a coal hauling operation that ran from West Virginia and through Virginia down into Kentucky. Quite an engineering feat. But this is where our story gets interesting." She opened another file. "Whilst doing some digging I found this accident report in CSX's archive." "What's CSX got to do with this?" Izzy asked. "Aren't they a car retailer?" "CSX stands for Chessie Seaboard Consolidated Transportation," Zipp explained. "Clinchfield was one of the companies that made up one of their predecessors, Seaboard. Anyway, the accident report reveals that an engine numbered 311 was lost in a crash on the Haysi Branch in Virginia in 1950. And seeing as ghost trains tend to be engines lost in accidents rather than scrapping, I think we may have found our ghost train. The question, did Timber base it on the story or is an actual engine from the Upper South haunting a portion of Virginia?" "Or," Pipp said, "here's another theory. What if Timber made the whole thing up?" "Come on, Pipp!" Zipp protested. "We've seen enough crazy magic stuff these last few years to at least have to consider the possibility that ghosts are real. Now is not the time for arbitrary skepticism!" "Zipp, that's your limit on fourth wall breaks for the day!" Izzy said. "Hope you had fun doing so!" Once Izzy had left, Pipp looked to her sister. "Well, that was weird." Another night passed and another morning rose. The Starshines hadn't had the best of nights. Sunny hadn't slept hugely well and didn't seem to be all that responsive when spoken to. Argyle had some paperwork from the University that he had suddenly needed to attend to, so Goldie offered to walk with Sunny down to the engine shops so she had some company on the journey there. Goldie herself didn't realise it but she was sleep deprived herself, and running on a rather shorter fuse than normal. "So, how was last night?" she asked. "Don't want to talk about it," Sunny said abruptly. What was up with her? Goldie was baffled by Sunny's behaviour. She knew everybody had a bad day, but this was so unlike her. She seemed deflated, somehow. Perhaps she was just moody for some reason. Girls her age sometimes were. Goldie decided to try and lighten the mood with a joke. "Well, somebody got out of bed on the wrong side of bed today! Me namely." That got a laugh out of Sunny- briefly, who then dropped back to her previous expression. On they went, along the sidewalk, seeing as Strasburg gradually woke up, and people began to go about their business and got their stores ready to go. A buggy even rolled past, the indicators suggesting the intention to take a left turn at the next intersection. It looked so incongrous, a vintage buggy with modern direction indicators, and yet it fitted so well for the area. But Goldie was struggling to focus on the evironment around her. So much was on her mind. She then spotted a bakery. "Sunny, why not take something with you to the depot?" she suggested. "I'm not hungry," Sunny replied. Sometimes, human emotions can be suddenly triggered over the smallest of things, especially in people on very short tempers. The bluntness of Sunny's reply set something off in Goldie that she hadn't felt in years. She abruptly pulled Sunny to one side of the sidewalk and glared right at her. "Sunny, I've just about had enough of your behaviour. Being moody will not get you out of doing as you're told!" Sunny blinked in shock, and her eyes starting about, clearly frightened. But Goldie was too angry to care. "Look at me when I'm talking to you!" Sunny did so, her eyes wide and her body locked completely rigid, with a distinct 'deer in headlights' look. Goldie by this point was so cross she didn't care what she said. "I thought you knew better than this. You've been nothing but rude to me and your father this whole morning. So stop acting like this RIGHT NOW and answer my damn questions!' Goldie was breathing heavily, and as she looked down all the anger left her in an instant. Sunny was looking back at her, looking absolutely terrified. "S- Sunny? I don't know what ca-" Sunny burst into tears and ran off down the sidewalk, in the direction of the depot. Goldie dashed after her, realising to her horror what she had just done. "Sunny, wait! I didn't mean it!" She had barely any time to react when she suddenly saw it coming. "SUNNY! LOOK OUT!" Sunny turned her head just too late- as a truck slammed into her. Everything seemed to go into slow motion as her body flew through the air and slammed into a lamp post. The driver had, thankfully, stopped, and jumped out as Goldie threw caution to the wind and sprinted across the intersection to where Sunny had landed. She picked her up and looked at her. "Sunny? Sunny?" No response. To her horror, Goldie realised Sunny wasn't breathing. She tried to administer CPR, but it didn't seem to be working. She started in disbelief at what had happened. In just one moment her entire life had been turned upside down. Sunny, her only child, was dead. And it was all her fault. "This is your fault, goddammit!" shouted a voice. "She couldn't have known!" shouted another. "Sunny would still be alive if you'd just controlled your temper!" Goldie looked about in a panic, saw the accusing faces all around her, and screamed. Argyle was suddenly jolted awake by loud screams. "What the Hell?" He soon isolated the source of the noise. His wife was sitting bolt upright, her eyes staring forward and her face in an expression of terror. "What's going on?" "Where's Sunny? Where is she?" Argyle was confused. "I checked on her about half an hour ago. She was asleep." Suddenly, the door burst open, and Sunny ran in. "Is everything OK? I heard screaming and-" she trailed off when she saw her mother's face. "Mom? Is everything OK?" Goldie moved with such speed it caught Sunny by surprise. One moment she was in bed, the next she was next to Sunny having pulled her into a hug. Her words were mostly incoherent, but Sunny could make out one phrase, repeated over and over again. "I'm so sorry." Sunny was just confused. "Mom, what's wrong?"