The Narrow Gauge saga

Rock n roll

Skarloey loves all the sights and sounds along his line and knows them very well. One morning, soon after he returned from being mended, he was pulling some cars and enjoying his journey more than ever before. Along the way, he met Rusty. "Y'know," he said, "if I couldn't see these familiar faces and places, I'd think I was on a different railway. Ya did a good job with these rails." Rusty laughed, "Mr. Percival said we should mend the tracks so well that he won't know where he is. And we did, and you didn't; if you take my meaning." Skarloey liked this hard-working, friendly diesel. "There's still one bad piece just before the first station," Rusty said anxiously, "It was just too hard and we were running out of time." "Never mind," said Skarloey, "it's much better than it is now." "But not good," replied Rusty, "an engine might come off there. Peter Sam, Sir Handel, and you take care, but I'm worried about Duncan. He's got that Rock n Roll about him. Oh, look. There he is." Duncan pulled into the station. "I hope he doesn't hurt his passengers." "What's that about me? I'm a plain engine who believes in plain talk. So cut the gossip." Rusty told Duncan about the bad track. "Huh! I know me way about, so I don't need smelly diesels to tell me what to do." Rusty thought that hurt. "You tried," said Skarloey. Duncan snorted and banged about the yard, then he clattered crossly to the station. James was already there, waiting for him. "You're late!" he snapped. "I know," said Duncan, "tis that smelly ol diesel's fault. He teaches me how to stay on the rails, and goes off leavin' me to find me own coaches." "You poor engine," sympathized James, "I know all about diesels. One crept into our yard and ordered us about. I soon sent him packing." Duncan was filled with admiration. He didn't know that James was a boastful liar. "Send Rusty pack'n! Send Rusty pack'n!" snorted Duncan. He climbed the hill furiously. "Well done boyo," encouraged his driver, "keep it up!" Soon, they were near the first station. Duncan was pleased. "Nothing's happened! Nothing's happened! Silly ol diesel! Clever me!" And he rocked and rolled along the line. "Steady boy," his driver tried to check him, but it was too late. There was a loud clank and Duncan bumpily stopped. "Sleepers and ballast! I'm off!" And he was. "I warned him," said Rusty, "but all he did was call me names." Mr Percival turned Rusty's handle. "I'm not helping him," exclaimed Rusty, "he was asking for it." "Shamone!" said Mr. Percival, "start." "Sorry, buster," snapped Rusty, "hemade his track bed, he has to lie in it." "Rusty, I'm never oiling your gearbox again," said his driver. "GRRRRRRRRRRR!!!" snarled Rusty. Diesels have that nasty habit. "I'm ashamed of you, Rusty!" Skarloey said severely, "what about the passengers?" "I don't really care!" Rusty yelled. Skarloey was cross. "You're being exactly what Duncan makes you out to be." "How dare you!" "My point exactly." Rusty gave up. "I'm sorry, Skarloey," he relented. "G00d," said Skarloey, "now about those passengers," "Oh, I forgot about them. We gotta help the passengers." And Rusty went off. Duncan stood sad and solitary. He couldn't rock n roll, now. "Oh dear," he thought, "now everyone knows how silly I am." Presently, Mr. Percival and Rusty brought some sleepers and old rails. The passengers had to get out and help, which didn't please them. They carefully levered Duncan back onto the line. After that, Duncan was extra careful all day. "Rusty," he whispered thatnight, "thank you for helping. I'm sorry I was rude to you." "That's all right." "I wish all diesels were like you. Let's be friends." "Suits me," smiled Rusty, "we'll mend that bad bit of rail first thing tomorrow."