Train Wreck
A warm late summer evening. The sky liberally sprinkled with jewel like stars.
Two silver threads glistening in the moonlight running as far as your eye can see from your place high on the hillside.
In the distance a bright light begins to materialize as if chasing something along the ribbons.
A long mournful whistle sound is carried on the tender breeze, the light gets brighter and brighter as it draws nearer.
Now you can begin to hear another sound, a thrumming mixed with a wheezing persistent coughing, tickerty chough, tickerty chough, tickerty chough.
Then the sound you hear coming through the clear night air changes to a clackerty clack, clackerty clack clackerty clack, as the mighty steam engine emerged from the long tunnel, pulling it's load of coaches crosses the points in the stockyard far below in the valley.
Your memory slips back to a time when you were but a small child and would jump with glee at your fathers side . You were on the bridge as the train thundered down the track towards you. 'It's coming Daddy, it's coming' you would squeal in delight. Then all of a sudden you were enveloped in a cloud of smoke and steam that belched for the stack and when the haze cleared you were alone holding your fathers hand wondering where the train had gone so you run across the bridge, just in time to see the tail end disappearing into the tunnel.'Please Daddy can we come and see it again, oh please daddy'.
From high on the hill sitting on the bench seat at the viewpoint sits an old man, his stout walking cane resting beside him, it was his needy friend that helped him climb the tor now, he was glad that he could still make it but he knew there were not too many more summers before it would not be possible but this night and this time he had needed to be here.
The train was never late, it ran just like the clockwork one he had helped his father build in the attic all those years ago, all the little houses, the tiny church with it's tilted steeple that he could never get quite right.Trees made from twisted wire and dyed sawdust. Little cars on the narrow lanes and little people standing on the station platform waiting.
Always waiting for theirs friends and family coming in on the last rain of the day. The anticipation showed on their faces. Wondering and trying to guess which carriage they would emerge from.
The little boy stood impatiently waiting for his Daddy to arrive. He was coming home from far far away. He had been in France now for so long, but now his teacher had told them that the war in Europe would soon be over and everyone would be coming home and today was the day that he had longed for so long it almost hurt.
His Daddy would be able to play with him in the attic with the train set that they had started to lay out before he had to go away. He would be so pleased with all the work he had done, all the hills and the town and the loco sheds and the signal boxes. All the little people and animals he had made from the molds that he had saved up for with all his pocket money. No one had ever helped him since his Daddy went away. None of his friends had seen what he had in the attic because it was so special, just for him and his Daddy.
Daddy will be so pleased with the tunnel that he made out of the old carpet tube and the edging from the tiny pebbles he had found. His best idea for Daddy was the spectacular train wreck which he had happen when the train burst out of the tunnel. He had left that part of the layout just as he had planned it withe the engine and tender on their sides by the jammed points and all the carriages smashed to smithereens along the track and some piled up like matchwood, he had got some old rolling stock from the junk shop for that scene. He couldn't upset his Daddy by breaking good stuff.
The horrific train derailment sent shock waves throughout the nation. Even Mr Churchill came to see the damage that had caused such a huge loss of life, over 200 soldiers returning home from the war were killed along with 158 civilians.
The investigation team said that the cause was a failure at a set of points outside the tunnel a mile from the station.
The old man sat on the bench at the top of the hill and tears rolled down his cheeks as they did almost every day since the war. If only he hadn't made such a great layout to please his Daddy.
© Dave Timperley 31 March 2017
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