Troublesome Trucks

Arc 15 Make or Break

Diesel gently buffered up, and after some maneuvering, we now could explore Callan's yards together. With me in front, and Diesel pushing from behind. The Jays scattered and continued to tag the surrounding buildings and trucks. Some of them even hitched rides on my load of ballast as we searched. 

"So, you gonna tell me who or what it is that's so important that you'd cause a multi-crash catastrophe?" Diesel asked, 

"I guess now is as good a time as any. I'm looking for Scruffey." I replied. Diesel snorted and chuckled, "So you're the one who's been on the hunt for him this whole time? I should've figured, why do you want to meet with him so goddamn badly?" I chuckled back, "It's silly really, I wish to hear some stories he allegedly has. Learn of some unknown Sodor history, or some sage advice." Diesel frowned, "That's it? You caused all this trouble just for the off chance of gaining knowledge that may or may not prove useful in your cause?" I looked back as far as I could at him. "Yup." 

Diesel scoffed, "You're crazy." 

"Perhaps."

As we searched the rows of sleeping trucks, Diesel decided to tell me his side of his own story. He'd been built with the idea implanted in him that he was the great factor to bring about railway's change. That he was 'revolutionary.' On his first day, Duck hadn't told him the proper way trucks were meant to be handled, and which ones to leave alone. He admitted that it may have been due to his own boasting, but never did Duck think to step in and help. Instead, he stood back and let Diesel screw up, pulling apart the old empties, for which I forgave him. When he asked why, I asked him. "Should a child be held responsible for breaking something of value? Or should the parent be held responsible for not teaching the child how to be careful with said valuable object?" Diesel pondered my words, seeing it from a different perspective, I'm sure it felt relieving to him. "I never quite caught your name, Mr. Chess Player." 

I hesitated for a moment, before realizing this was an opportune moment to earn Diesel's trust. "My name is, George." I said quietly, 

"Heh, well George, you can call me Daniel or Dan if you'd prefer." came the diesel.

I was dumbfounded, Daniel? Where did that come from? I said as much. 'Dan' explained, "That's my true name, I never shared it with any of the other engines. Mostly because they have trust issues with me, despite the fact that what I did happened decades ago." That made sense, why get personal with people who you didn't want to be friends with in the first place? "The Jays know about my name but most of them still call me Diesel, they say it sounds more menacing that way." Daniel finished.

As the search continued, we passed a run down single row shed with closed doors. As we passed one of the side windows, I gasped. 

"WAIT STOP!" I shouted, Daniel's engine coughed in surprise. Rolling back, I could just make out some faded white letters, C.UFFE. He's here.

"In there." I motioned, Dan's gaze met my own. Eyes widening, we backed up the line, at the switch a man hopped down from Daniel's cab, he had the colors of the Blue Jays on his clothes. "My driver is affiliated too," Daniel explained, "It was sort of a forced initiation for me but it gave me something outside the norm to do. As well as a mental escape." I offered a "hmm" as a sign of acknowledgment. 

"If you and the Jays don't mind aiding me again, you all might get to do more of your 'out of the norm' activities starting after today." I said, Daniel's driver snickered,  "Based on what's already transpired, I'd say this will be a long lasting partnership between us." I winked, 

"Agreed."

The driver returned, the points now switched, we approached the shed. 

The moment of truth. The driver hopped down again and tried the doors, but they wouldn't budge. After calling several of the other Jays over and struggling to get it open, they gave up. "You could ram it." offered one of the younger Jays. The doors were meant to be opened outwards, so ramming them would most definitely destroy the doors, leaving evidence that we'd been here. As if the graffiti wasn't evidence enough. 

"Maybe as a last resort, try to find some chains or something to tether to the door handles." I requested. After a quick search of the yards and nearby station, the Jays returned with some old knotted rope. It was all or nothing here, quite literally make or break.