The Midnight Train Crossing

The trucks had ended up back at the freight yard, off to the side of the main tracks. Most of them were to heavy to be first choice for racing so tonight they were just watching.
Flat Top and three of the Rockies were playing cards on the ground.
Dustin was seated on the ground next to an older steam engine, who was also relaxing in the freight yard.
The steamer was old, he had retired from active work, but he was far from run down. Considering his age, he was in excellent condition. Generally respected throughout the yard the steamer was affectionately known simply as Poppa.
Suddenly the engine started to hum. The trucks looked at each other and grinned. They knew what was coming.
"Hey! Poppa's gonna sing!" Rocky Two called.
Flat Top groaned and slammed his cards down. He was losing again anyway.
"Oh man," he complained, "That stuff is so corny!"
Two of the Rockies pounced on him. Not liking Poppa's singing was something unique to Flat Top, although Dustin often suspected that Flat Top only said that to be contrary.
"Cool it man," Rocky said, "Poppa's gonna sing."
"Poppa don't sing often," Rocky Three started.
"But he do sing mean!" Rocky Four finished.
The engine started to sing in a rich bass voice.

"Oh the first line of the blues is always sung a second time."
He looked over at the Rockies, "You hear me talking Rockies?"
"Yeah Poppa," Rocky answered.

"I said the first line of the blues is always sung a second time
So by the time you get to the third line you've had time to think of a rhyme.

Oh ain't no law that says third line has to be different at all.
No, ain't no law that says third line has to be different at all.
No, there ain't no law that says third line has to be different at all!

Oh never borrow no mouth organ, not even from your best friend.
I said never borrow no mouth organ, not even from your best friend
'cuz you may survive the blowing...
He paused for a few beats while Dustin wailed away on a harmonica.
"But the sucking's gonna get you in the end! Oh yeah!"

Rusty skated in and flopped dejectedly on the ground.
"Rusty, why you looking sad?" Poppa asked. Rusty had been in such a good mood earlier today.
Rusty sighed and looked up, "I got no hope," he said, "lost the coach I thought was racing with me..."
"What Pearl?" Poppa asked, surprised.
"Yeah," Rusty answered, "She upped and joined electricity."
"So go find somebody new," Poppa said. There were many other cars, surely Rusty could find somebody without too much trouble.
Rusty sniffed and put his head down, "Oh it's no good," he said.
Everyone else was already paired up, no one wanted to partner him. Not even Pearl. Maybe... maybe electricity and diesel really were better.
Poppa stood up and stood over Rusty.
"Rusty, you ain't got no faith," he scolded, "I am a steamer, I was a champion once. You're like all the rest, you're just blind," he finished disappointedly. Racing was a family tradition and he had wanted Rusty to continue in his tracks.
Rusty looked up quickly, brushing the back of a hand across his eyes.
He hadn't meant to disappoint Poppa, but to race he still needed a partner.
"No, no, I see good," he said, standing up, "I see without no coach I got not chance in the race."

"Come with me," Poppa said.
Rusty followed him to the back of the yard.
"I got a partner for you," Poppa said.
Rusty's interest returned. Who was it? He looked around eagerly.
"What do you see?" Poppa asked with a smile.
Rusty looked, but all he could see was an old reddish Pullman car.
"Nothin' but an old sleeping car," Rusty answered dully.
"You got an alarm bell?" Poppa asked.
"I do," Rusty answered, puzzled by the quick subject change.
"Then ring it boy," Poppa said, looking meaningfully at the sleeper.
Rusty realized what Poppa intended with growing horror. Bad enough Rusty was an old fashioned engine but he figured that with the brand new Pearl he'd be able to be alright, but with the old sleeping car? And anyway, cars retired for a reason.
"Ring that bell," the Rockies said a little teasingly.
Rusty shot them a dark look before looking at his father.
"But Poppa," he said softly, "She's much too old."

The sleeper stirred. She was awake and she had heard him.
Half of Rusty said that he didn't care, but the other half felt horrible.
His father glared at him, grabbed his arm and pulled him away.
Rusty remembered, too late, how his father felt about the sleeper.

She slowly sat up, "Looks and youth ain't everything," she said, "experience is a quality that counts for a lot." She sighed, "The sad thing 'bout experience is by the time you've got it, it's usually all you've got."
The sleeper slowly rose to her wheels.
"I'm Memphis Belle," she sang, "The sleeping car. Doesn't matter who you are. Just pay your fare and climb aboard. I'll make you feel like you're a lord."
She turned to the engines. Rusty had stopped wiggling in his father's grip. He'd heard this story before, and it looked like he was going to hear it again.
"When I was young I was the toast of those who took me to the coast," Belle continued, "Then one great day when we dined with him, I was bought by Mr. Vanderbilt."
She smiled, touching her earrings, "I had crystal lamps, Irish linen to set off my red velvet dress and those who rode on me compared me to the Orient Express, that was excessive," she added modestly.
She sighed, "But now I get the sort of guys who take their teeth out, then their eyes!
Don't say goodnight, just hit the light and wheeze and snore to Baltimore.
Seen a lot of judges disrobing, and statesmen in states of undress. One day I shall sell my memoirs to the Popular Press, or True Confessions.
I'm Belle, Belle, Belle the sleeping car," she sang with a resigned tone, "Won't you catch this fallen star?" she asked.
Belle sank back down on her buffer.
"Pearl of a nation," she sang softly, "way beneath the station..."
She looked up, "But I can still warm you when the night is cold," she sang, "I'm a sleeper with a heart of gold."

"Only believe son..." Poppa started.
"Shh..." Rusty interrupted, watching Belle. He looked at his father.
"Poppa, I think...I think she's gone back to sleep."
The two moved away from the sleeping sleeper. That was why old trains retired.
"Poppa," Rusty started, "Progress has left her behind." He looked around at his father and then down at himself. For the first time he felt old fashioned. He sighed, "We've all been left behind." He took a breath, no wonder Pearl had left him. "There ain't no power in steam no more, elec-tri-city is faster now!" he exclaimed in a thick voice.
"No!" Poppa exclaimed.
Rusty crossed his arms stubbornly, he had gone too far, but he didn't care.
All the same, he stayed a safe distance away from his father, who, despite his age, was still very strong.
Poppa looked at Rusty just as stubbornly. He knew that despite the flashiness of the other engines steam was still powerful.
"Let me hear you say 'Steam!" he commanded.
Rusty turned around, "Steam," he spat out the word.
Poppa shook his head, that certainly wasn't very convincing. He turned to the freight cars, "Let me hear you all say 'steam!'"
"Ste-eam!" the trucks sang.

"Oil! Oil! Oil!" Flat Top shouted.
Poppa rounded on him and the brick truck bolted, running away from the angry steam engine.
"Oil is the work of the diesel himself," Poppa said.
Poppa returned his attention to Rusty. He had to convince Rusty that he should race; that he did have enough power.
His tone changed; became softer and less angry.

"How many times have you found, though you were firm on the ground, still the world around you sways," he sang, "You notice all that you've got does not add up to a lot, and the way ahead's a maze."
Rusty looked up, interested, despite himself.
Dustin closed his eyes, listening to Poppa, the hopper liked this story.
Flat Top settled next to Dustin, feigning indifference, playing with his brick.
"You've used everything inside you, so maybe it's time you tried to find a brand new power to shine a light, a light to brighten up your darkest hour," Poppa continued, "Starlight Express, Starlight Express, he's there, all around. Starlight Express will answer you 'yes,' he's waiting to be found."
Starlight Express? Rusty thought, that was just a story. Although he could use some help from the magical powerful engine, he had no idea how to get it.
"Starlight Express hears your distress," Poppa repeated, "He's there, all around. Starlight Express, Starlight Express..."

"Control! Control! Two minutes to the second heat!" Control's voice rang across the yard, "You guys better get yourself sorted out pronto!"
Rusty snapped himself out of it, he had almost started to consider it.
Poppa looked over at him and Rusty shook his head.
Poppa sighed and then looked around at the freight cars, he'd prove to Rusty that there still was power in steam. He'd been a champion once, he could do it again.

"Who'll come with me?" he asked, "Race behind me?"
Rusty looked up, horrified. His father couldn't race! He... he just couldn't!
"Poppa you're mad!" he said.
Poppa ignored that and looked around, "I'm gonna find me somebody who'll go with me," he said, he turned to the boxcars, "Hey, come on Rocky!"
Rocky shook his head, "My fans wouldn't like to see me get beat."
Poppa sighed and turned to the next car, "Okay Flat Top, you'll do."
Flat Top, who had been edging away, froze and looked up. "No way, not with you!" he exclaimed, "Me go with a steamer all smelly and smoking and ancient and filthy? You gotta be joking!"
"I'll go with you," the quiet Dustin spoke up.
Poppa considered, Dustin was a little too heavy to be a good partner, but the hopper so rarely volunteered to do something, Poppa didn't want to hurt his feelings.
"I may be strong son... he started.
"Okay I know," Dustin said a little sadly, but he knew he would be too heavy.
"Take too long son," Poppa said not unkindly.
"Please Poppa take me!" Dustin begged.
Well he did need a partner, the old steamer started to agree.
"No Poppa, don't listen!" Rusty begged, stepping between his father and Dustin, "Besides, where's the point? There's four trains in each heat. They've got all four trains. The race is complete."

"Control! Control! Cancellation! Cancellation! The British train has been scrapped!" Control announced, "Space for late entry, space for late entry."
"Come on Dustin," Poppa said, hitching the hopper behind. He pushed past the stunned Rusty.
Aw no fair! Rusty thought, First he lost Pearl and now this!
Well, he added, at least things can't get any worse. I hope Poppa does well...

"Control! Control! Heat Two! Heat Two!" Control called, "Race time minus one minute! Race time minus one minute!"
Once again the spotlights flew over the racetrack as the four engines and their partners lined up at the starting gate.
"In track one: Bobo the French TGV with Buffy.
In track two: Hashamoto the Bullet Train, with Volta.
In track three: Espresso the Italian Riveria Express with Ashley.
In track four: a late entry, Rambling Poppa McCoy with Dustin, the big hopper."
Being on the racetrack was awaking something long dormant with in Poppa. His fire burned behind his eyes, giving them a strange determined glint.
Rusty and the other freight were in the sidelines, watching.

"Trains to your tracks," Control ordered as the siren sounded, "Twenty seconds."
Rusty closed his eyes, then opened them, then closed them, then opened them again. He couldn't watch, but he couldn't look away either.

"Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one! Trains gone!"
The trains took off. Bobo took the lead with Hashamoto and Espresso close behind and Poppa a distant fourth.
Expresso passed Hashamoto and pulled even with Bobo. Bobo growled and sped up. The Italian train sped up, slammed into Bobo and took the lead.
Hashamoto sped up to pass Bobo. Bobo shook his head, as if to clear it, and chased after the others.
Bobo and Hashamoto pulled up on either side of Espresso and slammed into him with a sickening crunch.
Hashamoto took the lead.
Poppa wasn't doing too well, Dustin was forcing him to swerve erratically all over the track. The large hopper was not build for racing.
Dustin, for his part, was trying to keep control.
Poppa gritted his teeth and pulled, suddenly he got the truck under control. He shout forward, passing Espresso, passing Bobo and finally pulling even with Hashamoto.
Poppa let out a piercing whistle as he approached the finish line. He put on an extra burst of speed, ignoring something that snapped inside him. All the old steamer was aware of was the speed and winning.
He shot across the finish line with Hashamoto close behind.
Rusty was stunned and then pride filled him. Maybe steam wasn't out of date after all.
Poppa slowly left the racetrack. As the rush of winning faded a wave of pain shot through him.

"Hey there Poppa, you were great!" Rusty shouted, running over with the Rockies hitched behind.
Poppa looked up and smiled, he took another step and collapsed.
Alarmed, Rusty unhitched the Rockies and dove to his father's assistance. He helped the steamer into a seated position.
He pulled his hands back, startled. Usually steamers were warm from their hot water, but Poppa was ice cold. Not a good sign.
"Poppa look at you," Rusty said helplessly, "Your boiler is cold."
"My fault," Dustin said, "I'm too heavy for an engine that's old." He sighed and sniffed, this was all his fault, "He should not be pulling freight."
This is all my fault, Rusty thought.

"Rusty..." Poppa called weakly, "Rusty listen to me."
Rusty sank down to hear his father better.
"I can't carry on," Poppa said weakly, "Looks as though my racing days have just come and gone. Proved I could do it, showed I was once great. Can't do it now though, can't manage the weight."
Rusty shook his head slowly.
"But got me a position," Poppa continued, "got a placing in the race. Now Rusty, I can trust you. Take it for me, go and enter in my place. Get in there and win the prize!"
Rusty shook his head, "No, Poppa," he said, "No..."
"Must I kill myself to make you see sense?" Poppa demanded.
Rusty looked down, unable to meet his father's eyes.
"I do not believe," Rusty said, "No point in pretense..."
Poppa winced in pain and then glared down at Rusty. He would make Rusty understand somehow... He couldn't understand how Rusty could be acting like this.

Greaseball and his gang skated over. Greaseball had been surprised when Poppa had won, but now seeing the condition the steamer was in he relaxed.
And he hadn't teased Rusty all night, now was a prime opportunity.
"Well lookey here," he said to his gang, but loud enough for Rusty to hear, "They said this train could go, if it can go at all it sure goes slow."
Rusty looked up angrily, but didn't rise to the diesel's bait.
"Don't stop now," Greaseball sang, "You gotta keep it going all night."
He turned to Rusty, "Will you be racing in his place?" he asked. It was all too perfect if Rusty was going to race, then winning the Silver Dollar would be so much more fun.
"Should do!" the gang shouted, tauntingly.
"Then you can prove that steam is really through," Greaseball sang.
Rusty looked down sadly, Greaseball was right.
"Don't stop Poppa," Greaseball sang as his gang closed in around the two steamers. Rusty stood up quickly. "Don't stop Rusty."
The Rockies formed a protective ring around Poppa. The gang didn't want to tangle with the grim looking boxcars. Rusty, however, was fair game.
"Leave old Poppa, leave young Rusty," the gang taunted, shoving Rusty around.
"Don't stop /leave old Poppa, don't stop /leave young Rusty."

"Clear my track!" Electra shouted coming over.
The gang all cleared his track. Electra looked around at the steamers as he came through, "What's all this rubbish?"
"This Rusty junk must go!" he and his components sang.
"Clear my track!" Electra said sending a lightning bolt towards the steamers.
Rusty shuddered as electricity surged through his frame and he collapsed to the ground.
Electra laughed and continued on.
"Clear my track!" Pearl sang from behind Electra, "This is my train now! This could be my dream, clear my track!"

If I could win... Rusty thought, then maybe...
"All alone, you think you're on your own..."
Rusty looked up to see the red caboose smiling at him.
"You think there's no one in the world," the caboose sang softly, "But look behind, then you'll find there's me..."

Rusty slowly stood up and took a deep breath.
"I'm gonna race you Greaseball," he said.
The gang howled with laughter
"And I'm gonna race you Electra," Rusty said.
Electra's train, with the exception of one of it's members, shrieked with laughter.
"And I'm gonna show you just what steam can do," Rusty finished, his fire burning hotter.
He would win it, without Pearl! And maybe if he won...

"Rolling Stock? You'll be a laughing stock," Greaseball, Electra and their trains sang, "he hasn't got a chance! Rolling Stock, laughing stock. He hasn't got a chance! Rolling Stock, laughing stock, he hasn't got a chance!"
As the trains left their voices faded.
Rusty had stood still while their laughter rang in his ears.
The Rockies helped Poppa up.
"That's my boy," Poppa said with a smile, "I knew you'd believe."
Rusty looked at Poppa sadly.
"Poppa..." he started. He took a breath and tried again, "Poppa I don't know if I believe, but I'm gonna try." He sighed, "I have to try."

Alone now, in the semi darkness Rusty looked up at the sky, he had almost believed before, when Poppa was singing about it. Poppa had said that if he looked he would find it. Well he was looking now, and he found... nothing.
Rusty sighed, what was he doing? The Starlight Express was just a story, a lullaby. He sank to the ground.

"When the night is darkest, open up your mind," he sang softly. "What can you see? Is it getting clearer?
Listen to the distance, listen and you'll find, the midnight train is getting nearer.
Starlight Express, Starlight Express, are you real? Yes or no?
Starlight Express, answer me yes. I don't want you to go."
He sighed before continuing.

"Show me all the places I have never been, bring me home safely before I wake up." He shook his head, "I don't wanna stay there, just to say I've been.
Take me with you through the night, but get me back before daylight!"
He looked up, "Starlight Express, Starlight Express, are you real? Yes or no?
Starlight Express, answer me yes, I don't want you to go."

He closed his eyes and tried to... tried to do what? Tried to believe? Maybe the Starlight Express was just waiting to know what he wanted.
What do I want? He wondered, some help, he decided, I... I don't know what do.
He opened his eyes and looked up, slowly rising to his wheels.

"And if you're there," he said, "And if you know... then show me which way I must go!
Starlight Express, Starlight Express, are you real? Yes or no?" he called, "Starlight Express, answer me yes, I don't want you to go."
He sank back down to his knees, "Starlight Express, Starlight Express," he sang softly, "Are you real? Are you near?
Starlight Express, Starlight Express, I need you to be here."