Gallow wasn’t the only one having trouble sleeping that night. In Silverton, Ironside lay wide awake on the pilot of his engine, unable to calm his mind. Unlike the roundhouse in Ponyville, there was no space in the Silverton roundhouse for a cot or bed of any sort, so Iron ended up sleeping either in his chair in the cab or on M’s pilot.
He had been losing sleep ever since he came to Silverton a year ago; the incident that drove him away from his friends kept replaying in his head every single night. He would often wake up with a start and be unable to get back to sleep in the middle of the night. This was becoming a source of concern for both M and Theofillya, since Iron had almost fallen asleep at the controls twice now. Unfortunately, there were no therapists in Silverton, and Iron didn’t believe therapy worked on him anyway, so he was forced by Theofillya to take the day off and try to recuperate. In the meantime, while M was tucked away with her driver, the smaller Consolidation (2-8-0) engines would double-head on the ore trains.
M didn’t mind staying in the roundhouse too much. She welcomed the break after having worked almost nonstop with Iron (they got some time off for Hearth’s Warming), but she got bored really easily and longed to be out on the high iron again. The brother-and-sister pair of 41 and 42 were happy that M was pent up, however. Being the smallest and lightest of all the engines on the Durango-Silverton Branch, they did not get many chances to pull heavy freight trains since the larger engines did most of the revenue work. They normally ran a small train for visitors and children, which they felt was nowhere near as fulfilling a job.
Ironside felt reluctant to wake M up, but he just couldn’t stand feeling alone. He tapped gingerly on her smokebox. “M, hey,” whispered the engineer.
M stirred a little. “Hmm? What is it?” she asked in a groggy voice.
Realizing that she wouldn’t want to hear him say “I can’t sleep,” he sighed and lay back down onto her pilot. “Never mind…” he answered.
“Can’t sleep again?” she asked him. Iron shook his head.
“I don’t know what to do, M,” he said, “I’m going to lose my job again if I keep suffering from this damned lack of sleep.”
“It’s not your fault, man,” she answered, “It’s just insomnia.”
“I’ve never been diagnosed with insomnia,” Iron replied.
“It’s not something you’re born with,” said M, “Maybe you’re just starting to suffer from it now because of stress.”
“To be honest, this job isn’t really that stressful,” said Ironside, “I mean, the whole downhill coast thing is a little scary, but I’ve already done similar work in the Draconian Pass.”
“I mean you’re stressed because you’re always reminded of the life you left behind,” replied M.
“I left more than one life behind, M,” the engineer pointed out.
“And you miss them,” she continued. Knowing instantly whom M meant by “them,” Iron sighed and nodded.
“I don’t want to say that I feel lonely here, M,” Iron whispered, “You’re my friend, and so is Theofillya, but…”
“You have other friends out there, but they’re not here with you, so you feel like you’re alone,” M finished for him. Again Iron silently nodded.
“Don’t think that I don’t know what it’s like to miss somebody,” M said, “The friends I miss will never come back to me.” She was referring of course to her brothers and sisters: the rest of the K-27 class. The class once consisted of 15 engines, all originally Vauclain compounds like 2398, but later converted to simple expansion. They were the oldest Mikados on the Rio Grande, and each engine was very close to his/her siblings. Now only two K-27s, 463 and 464, survived. In service, the engines were only known by their road numbers; the nicknames were only given to the two that survived to the present day. 463 became known as “Mudhen” in memory of the class itself, but she had it shortened to just “M” instead. 464, her younger brother, gained the name Huckleberry after he joined a shortline railroad of the same name and became their flagship locomotive.
But the last time the two siblings spent any time together was before 1955, when M was bought from the Rio Grande by a famous movie star. Huck remained in Durango long enough to say goodbye to his older sister 461 before her retirement and scrapping in 1961. She was the last K-27 to be cut up. Huck was then sold to a berry farm that hoped to use him as a mainline freight engine. Because of his size and weight, however, they never used him, and so he was sold to his namesake line, where he still worked. M was eventually given back to the Rio Grande, but by the time she made it back to the Silverton Line, Huck was long gone. It was a heartbreaking day for M; she had hoped that the two of them would be together again. They had become ever closer as they watched their siblings get shipped off to the scrapyards.
Ironside noticed water drops streaming down M’s smokebox. He lifted himself off her pilot and trotted over to the shelf behind her tender. He pulled some cotton waste out of it and began wiping down her smokebox. “Thanks,” said M in a soft voice.
“Anything for you, M,” Iron replied just as softly, “But hey, at least you know that your brother is alive and well.”
“It’s not like I’m ever going to see him again,” she answered.
“You can’t be too sure about that,” replied her driver, “I know where his shortline is located. Maybe someday I can drive you to him.”
M suddenly felt very warm and lively upon hearing that. “Would you? I’d be forever grateful if you did!”
“Cross my heart, hope to die, stick a needle in my eye,” swore Iron.
“No, don’t stick a needle in your eye! How will you be able to drive me?” asked M.
The engineer rolled his eyes. “Oh, you know what I mean.”
“Yeah, I know,” answered M with a chuckle.
“But I’m serious about taking you to see your brother. What’s his name again?” asked Iron.
“Search me,” replied M, “He and I just know each other by our road numbers. I don’t know if they even gave him a nickname.”
Ironside got off M’s pilot again and trotted over to a small desk on their side of the roundhouse. He pulled a fold-up map out of a small stack of papers on one side of the desk and unfolded it to reveal a full map of Equestria’s railway network, all gauges included. After finding which color corresponded to the narrow gauge lines, he searched the map for the shortline Huck was now working for. It turned out to be several hundred miles to the northeast, and there was no narrow gauge line connecting it to the Silverton branch. He relayed this information to M, who then suggested renting a flatcar that she could ride on. Iron went back to the map, making sure there was at least one standard or broad gauge line running between the two narrow gauge ones. Since the standard gauge trackage was the most extensive, it didn’t take long for him to find a route leading from Silverton to the Huckleberry line.
“Think Theofillya will mind us taking a little trip up north?” asked Ironside as he lay back down on M’s pilot.
“Are you going to keep losing sleep?” asked the engine.
“I don’t want to answer that question,” the engineer replied.
“Well, it’s the only way we’re gonna have time off to take that trip,” said M.
“Well, it won’t do us much good if I fall asleep at the controls and run you off the rails,” replied Iron.
“I’m kidding, man,” said M, “Lighten up.”
“Do you think the twins will mind having to do your work for a few more days?” asked Iron.
“Oh please!” responded the engine, “Those two would want me laid off if it meant pulling an actual ore train for all eternity.”
“They’re that desperate, huh?”
“Like you wouldn’t believe…”