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joezworld · 3 years

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He is Speed

For #railpril2021, here’s an entry for the LNER J70.

You know which one.

Toby the tram engine is kept very busy by his work on Thomas’ branch line. Between his runs to the Anopha Quarry, his passenger services, and any odd jobs he might be assigned, he works hard every day.

That does cause a few problems though, as Toby is an old engine with a body made primarily of wooden planks. He was never designed for the hard work that the North Western Railway puts him through, and so his planks rattle and shake whenever he moves. No matter what the men do, the wood eventually works itself loose over time and falls out, leaving his cab even draftier than normal!

While the men at Ffarquhar sheds can fix one or two of the planks should they fall out, major carpentry work is beyond them. As a result, Toby has to go to the works at Crovan’s Gate every six months to have his siding inspected, refinished, and sometimes replaced.

Going to the works is a big process for branch line engines - they aren’t fast enough to keep up with main line timetables, and their small water tanks means that they usually can’t get from Knapford to Crovan’s Gate without a water stop. Thomas and Percy get around this by going on a flatbed wagon, but the loading is a time-consuming process that Toby dislikes, especially because he has to do it twice a year.

So, many years ago, he put his wheel down and refused to go on a wagon anymore.

---

September 2005 - Knapford

“Ah still do nae see why I have to do stuff like this.” Siobhan groused. “Not having tae dawdle on the main line all day is why ah took this job. An’ I’m no’ even driving - I’m firin’ like I’m a new hire!”

The newly-minted “Senior Steam Locomotive Driver” had walked into her first day at the job expecting to get a turn at Gordon’s throttle on the Midday Express, or maybe a nice uninterrupted day on the Little Western with her Dads, but instead was met with: Venkataramany: 0C01 [09:33] NWR 98107: KFD→CVN

“If I told you it was a hazing thing, would it make you feel better?” Robert, the Chief Traction Inspector said as they crossed the footbridge over the tracks.

“No’ after watchin’ that harassment video from HR.” She grumbled. “An’ even if this was tha’, why would ye be here? Ye've too much seniority - ye should laughin’ at me from Gordon’s cab or something.”

“Fine,” Robert stopped and pointed at Toby, who was sitting in the goods yard surrounded by workers who were removing his side plates. “He is the reason we are here. Nobody else will go on this run except Mister Hatt himself.”

“What? Why?” Siobhan was baffled. She’d driven Toby many times and found him to be a pleasant engine to drive, fire, and speak with.

“You wouldn’t believe me it I told you.” He said grimly. Siobhan watched in increasing confusion as the man hopped down onto the ballast and trudged across the yard like a condemned man going to the gallows.

“Robert!” Toby called as they walked up. “How wonderful to see you again!”

Robert grumbled something unprintable under his breath and hopped into Toby’s cab without another word. After a moment, an oil can came sailing out of the cab door, Siobhan barely catching it in time.

“Oi!” She shouted, to no avail.

Toby looked sympathetic. “Don’t mind him. He’s always cranky when he has to do this run. I don’t think my cab agrees with him that much.”

“This run doesn’t agree with anyone, you Sociopathic Garden Shed!” Robert bellowed from the cab.

Siobhan and the workmen shared an astonished glance as Toby chuckled to himself.

“You get used to that after a while.” He said quietly.

“Okaaay...” Siobhan said slowly as she took the oil can and began working over Toby’s valve gear.

Toby’s very elaborate valve gear.

“Toby,” She asked slowly. “Have ye always had a Walschaerts motion?”

“Why yes I have.” The tram said jovially. “But don’t worry - it’s hidden behind my sideplates most of the time, so it’s hard to notice.”

“Never thought that drivin’ Gordon would be applicable ‘ere.” She muttered to herself as she oiled the valve gears. Walschaerts motions were extremely common on steam engines around the world, but here on the island, practically every other engine on the Island except Percy had inside cylinders. Gordon and Henry were the only ones with this type of valve gear, and it was a surreal experience to service an “express engine” valve gear on an engine that, to put it politely, was deeply not.

After an oiling job worthy of Gordon, Siobhan clambered into the cab, waved goodbye to the workers, who were carrying away Toby’s sideplates for storage, and stoked up the fire. His coal bin and water tanks were full, but they were so small that this run had a timetabled stop at Killdane to pick up more.

As they set off - with Robert looking even grimmer than before - she dug through her crew bag and pulled out the schedule again. The timing didn’t seem to match.

“Rob!” She shouted over the noise of Toby’s chuffing. “How come we’re scheduled into Killdane at ten past ten? That’s express timing!”

“You’ll see.” Robert said darkly as they rumbled onto the main line.

“See what?” She said pointlessly - Robert was more interested in viewing the line ahead through Toby’s small cab windows, and she needed to keep the fire tended - Toby wasn’t a bad steamer, but today he seemed to be intent on keeping a rather high steam pressure considering the light run.

As they approached the points at the station’s far end, Robert reached behind the regulator and plucked a small metal collar from its spot on Toby’s regulator. “No going back now.” He said quietly, pocketing the speed governor.

Then they rattled over the points , and Toby shifted slightly.

“This is the fast line!” Siobhan said to Robert as they rolled out onto the center tracks.

“I know.” Robert was the picture of grim determination, his hands turning white as he held Toby’s throttle in a tight grip with one hand, and braced himself against the cab wall with the other.

Slowly, he inched the regulator forwards. As he did so, the excess steam pressure in Toby’s system, with some help from the engine himself, grabbed at the internal mechanism and yanked the lever out of Robert’s hand.

Toby accelerated rapidly, and Siobhan shrieked as she was thrown backwards into the coal pile.

“Hold on to something!” Robert cried. “He’s not gonna stop unless he has to!”

“What?! Who’s not going to stop?” Siobhan had no idea what was going on.

The noise level inside the cab increased dramatically in line with their speed, and whatever Robert said was lost in the clatter. Above their heads, Toby’s bell began shaking in the wind so much that it began wildly swinging back and forth, adding a further layer of sound.

Wellsworth Station

“-and so then I said - Oh hello, the signal’s changed.” BoCo broke off of his story and looked down the main line. “I wonder who’s coming. The Express has gone already.”

“I don’t know.” Replied Edward.

They both looked down the line towards Tidmouth. The signal block that protected Wellsworth station was only a mile or so in length, so they should find out who was coming soon enough.

“Do you hear that?” BoCo said after a few seconds.

“I do. Whatever could it be?”

“It sounds like dinging.”

“Who dings on this railway?”

“Well, Toby does, but that can’t be him-”

At that moment, a whistle sounded in the distance. It sounded like Toby’s whistle.

BoCo’s brows rose in surprised confusion. “If that is Toby, he just crossed the lane by the McColl’s farm.”

“But that’s half a mile from the signal, and-”

“He did it in less than thirty seconds.”

The dinging grew louder.

“Can he even go that fast?”

The sounds of an engine became audible as it grew nearer. It was making a considerable racket, and it sounded like it was moving fast.

The dinging continued to get louder and louder.

Suddenly, an engine became visible from around the curve. It was brown, it was square, and it was easily doing sixty as it charged through the station. It whistled a quick “Hello!” and was gone, leaving a trail of thick black smoke in its wake.

Both engines stared at the dissipating trail of smoke.

“Well,” Said Edward once he picked his jaw off of his bufferbeam. “I guess he can.”

Killdane

Abbey and Dane were sunning themselves in the yard. Now that the Fat Controller had brought in new electric engines for the line, everyone had a chance to rest between trains.

Speaking of trains, one was arriving now. She lazily opened one eye to see Toby arriving at the station, as he did every six months or so.

“Dane, look,” She whispered, causing the other engine to open his eyes. “The show’s about to start.”

Toby rolled to stop near the water tower and coal bin. Barely a second had gone by after that when his cab door was thrown open and his crew staggered out. The older man, one of the inspectors, slowly staggered off to a bench on the platform, while the other, a younger woman whom Abbey usually saw with Donald and Douglas, berated him about something. Her words weren’t audible, but the strong Scottish accent carried across the yard.

This continued as she dragged the water hose over to Toby, and began moving coal into his bunker. Toby’s coal bunker was located inside his cab, so this involved a lot of wheelbarrows and shoveling. The woman seemed to be displeased that she was doing all the work, and emphasized her point to the inspector by dumping a shovel-full of coal over his head.

The ensuing chase around the platform with shovels of coal had both electric engines crying with laughter, so they couldn’t quite see how it happened that a few shovels were thrown in Toby’s face as well, but that didn’t stop them from laughing even harder.

Eventually, all the coal was loaded, and the damp pair of humans (the water hose hadn’t been put away without a fight) clambered back into Toby.

The steam tram looked over to Abbey and Dane, a mischievous smile broaching his coal-streaked face. “I hope you two enjoyed yourselves!” He called as the signal dropped.

He made it a few feet onto the main line before he surged ahead suddenly. Inside his cab, shouting and swearing could be heard as both crew were thrown off their feet.

Abbey and Dane howled with laughter.

Kellsthorpe Road

“Thomas! Funny seeing you here!” Fred the stationmaster called out. He’d previously been in charge of Dryaw station before moving to station across the Island to be with his family five months ago, and it had been almost that long since he’d last seen Thomas.

“Fred! It’s been too long!” Thomas said, and immediately began catching up with his old friend.

In front, Gordon rolled his eyes. Thomas was a regular chatterbox on a normal day, but when he was allowed to be dead weight on a flat car he practically metamorphosed into a social butterfly, and never stopped talking.

At least nobody is commenting on me, he thought to himself. It was deeply unusual for an engine of his stature to be on a slow goods train, but James had wanted to try his luck on the midday express, and a complicated series of past favours had meant that Gordon had “owed him one”, and was obligated to switch jobs.

I’d have rather owed James two than have to deal with this.

Minutes passed, and the signal hadn’t changed, nor had Thomas stopped talking. One of those things wasn’t unusual, but the other was. The signal didn’t stay red that long unless a train was coming into the station - a holdover from when the Kellsthorpe road actually crossed the railroad tracks and time was needed to shut the gates - but there was no train scheduled to come through at this point, at least not a regularly scheduled one.

Looking down the tracks, a plume of smoke and steam could be seen in the distance. That was equally unusual, as the only “up bound” steam train due within the next hour was James, and that train hadn’t even left Tidmouth yet.

Presently, the source of the steam resolved itself into a distant engine. It looked strange, almost like it was pushing a van in front of it, but that was preposterous - they were moving fast enough that - oh. It was that time of the year, wasn’t it?

“I say, Thomas,” He called back to his cargo. “Have you ever seen Toby when he goes to the works?”

“No? Why?” Thomas sounded confused. Excellent.

“Well, he’s coming along right now. Perhaps you can say hello to him.”

“Oh! Is Toby coming?” Fred asked, looking at his schedule of trains. “Why’s he doing it on the fast line?”

“Probably to show him what it’s like!” Thomas joked. “It’s not like he can move much faster than a snail!”

Gordon eyed the approaching brown blur. “I’d rethink that statement Thomas.”

“Why? I’m not wrong - what’s that dinging sound?”

Toby rocketed through the station in a cloud of smoke and dust. Anything on the platform not nailed down was shaken and rocked by his passage. A cleaner was changing out the litter bins on the platform as Toby went by, and the contents of an open full bag of litter were lifted into the air and sent flying in all directions by his wake.

The station was silent after that. Gordon watched as crisp wrappers settled down on every flat surface, suddenly glad he was on the slow lines and out of the direct line of fire.

The signal dropped, indicating that Toby had cleared the station on the other end, and Gordon set off.

Thomas was mercifully silent all the way to Knapford.

Crovan’s Gate

They arrived on time.

Robert stormed out of the cab without a word, marched across the works grounds, across the main line, and vanished into the station’s pub. Siobhan meanwhile was left to hand Toby over to the works crew and fill out the after-trip report.

“Engine working to full capacity? If no, state problem...” She mumbled under her breath as she filled out the form, giving Toby the evil eye as she did so.

He smiled impishly back at her. “I am in full working condition, I’ll have you know.”

“Engine has incurable case of smartarse. Recommend turning him into a feckin’ henhouse.” She glared.

“I thought that you enjoyed my witty repartee and smooth steaming.”

“I think that you enjoy this.”

“Whatever gave you that impression?”

“Ah have a hunch.”

Toby smiled broadly. “An old engine needs to have some fun in his life. Although I am sorry about the coal dust.”

She buried her head in her clipboard, not caring that the forms were now smeared with coal dust and oil. “Jus’ warn me next time, alright?”

The smile she got back was worrying. “You’ll probably have to take me back on Thursday. Is that enough warning?”

Siobhan considered it a moment of personal growth when she didn’t throw the clipboard at him.

Thursday

“What in the everloving fuck are ye wearing.”

Siobhan stared at her employer in shock. When she’d heard that Stephen Hatt had volunteered to drive Toby back to Knapford with her, she’d expected to have a nice, quiet ride, one where Toby wouldn’t try and traumatize his driver/controller.

But as she looked at the head of the railway, she developed a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

“I am wearing my work clothes, Siobhan.”

“So am I, but ah don’t look like ah stepped out of the Brunel Edition of GQ!”

He looked nothing like he usually did, with a pair of denim dungarees, a worker’s flat cap, and sturdy but ancient-looking work boots replacing his three piece suit, top hat, and wingtip shoes. A long railwayman’s coat, still bearing the BR Cycling Lion logo, was worn over the whole thing. A gold pocketwatch chain looped out of an interior pocket and led to a buttonhole on the dungarees and a pair of work gloves stuck out of one pocket. Worryingly, a pair of old aviator goggles was slung around his neck, their purpose unknown and hopefully decorative.

She was wearing typical work trousers, a sturdy jacket and work shirt, and a pair of work boots that looked considerably more modern that the monstrosities adorning the Fat Controller’s feet. To complete the modern look, the belt holster for her Nokia mobile phone poked out of one side.

They looked like people from two different centuries.

As they approached Toby, who was already steamed up in the works yard, the sinking feeling in Siobhan’s chest grew when the tram engine’s face lit up upon sighting the controller.

“Oh hello sir! I didn’t know you’d be driving today!”

“Well, Robert has called out sick, surprisingly enough, and I was asked to fill in. I wouldn’t miss this for the world, old friend.” Stephen said as he pulled on his gloves.

“Now then,” He said as he jumped into Toby’s cab with surprising spryness, before pulling on the goggles. “Let’s Ride!”

Siobhan wondered if it was too late to call in sick as well.

#ttte toby #railpril2021 #ttte #sodor #sodor shenangians #Oc: Siobhan #stephen hat #LNER J70s can apparently go quite fast #ttte thomas #ttte gordon #ttte boco #ttte edward #fic #long #railpril

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