The Union Pacific railyard in North Platte, Nebraska buzzed with life as engines huffed, puffed, revved, and thrummed in their daily grind. Among them was Rail Jack, a relatively new train built just this year of 1971 in January. He stood out among the rest with the vibrant red hair, gleaming golden chest, and the proud number "6936" displayed on the back of his vest in gold. His size was imposing just like the others of the centennials, yet nimble enough for precision work in the yard. The first of his kind had been 6900, Golden Spike who had been in service for about two years now. Their introduction had essentially been a death sentence for the world known to steam engines. Diesel was truly here to stay.
"Alright, Jack, time to move!" He would say to himself each morning as the sun rose over the horizon. Mornings were always the same. Couple up to my freight cars, check the couplings and air hoses. Get the go-ahead from the yardmaster, then rumble on out of the yard at a steady clip. His daily in-yard tasks consisted mostly of moving cars with the switchers to help them speed things along. The distances he travelled varied, sometimes just within the confines of the state, while other days he ventured further across the country. But no matter how far or wide he roamed, it always seemed to be more of the same.
"So, you got those containers ready to go?" Angelus shouted over at him, a bit away but slowly coming closer. His yellow and silver streamliner frame looked good and he knew it by the way he posed. It was as if he was expecting someone to take a picture of him at any given moment. He wasn't bulky and looked speedy.
"Ahoho, of course. I was built for this. I love helping the switched pull my train together" He said as he hooked up the last of the cars filled with goods, he could feel every hitch and clank reverberating through his frame. He knew the process like the back of his hand. It was a dance he had performed countless times, and every step was ingrained into his very being. The rest of the train was empty hoppers that needed to sent to be filled up. He slowly backed up to the line of freight cars waiting for him. His wheels rolled effortlessly against the metal tracks.
"Easy there, Rail Jack," Angelus teased, watching now from a nearby track. "You might just wear out those shiny wheels of yours by working so hard! I still can't believe they gave you such nice looking silver trucks too. You should give them to me. They would look so much better under my feet."
"Ha, you wish!" Jack shot back playfully, connecting the coupler with practiced ease. The heavy click of the coupling was a sign of a job well done - it was one of the small victories that he took pleasure in during the repetitive days at the railyard.�
"Maybe I can convince the company to get me some silver trucks. Damn, I bet you get all the babes." Angelus raised an eyebrow and laughed. "Don't wait around too long. Wouldn't want to keep anyone waiting. Oh, that's right. You don't carry passengers! Ehaha!"
"I don't need any pesky passengers to do my job. I do something better. I keep America's life blood pumping with every train I pull. Alright, let's get moving! Those rails won't know what hit them!" Rail Jack smiled as he announced to the freight ais behind him. He heard their collective acknowledgment and so he began to move as soon as the caboose told him all was clear.
The wind was sucked in through his chest's intake vents, cooling his hot radiators as he navigated the switches and turns of the railyard. It was a small pleasure as his long train snaked behind him. But despite what humans would call monotony, he couldn't deny there was a certain satisfaction in having a job to do and doing it well. And so, with every container hitched and freight train delivered, he would feel more and more proud of his work.
Today's train wouldn't go too far and he would be back before evening. Most of the hoppers in the train were being sent to be filled with grains of different types. The familiar rhythm soothed him as he rolled across the Nebraska plains. Clickety-clack went his wheels, a constant beat. He watched the sun climb higher, lighting up the flat land stretching endlessly around. He was built for power and speed but rarely got to test his true speed. Still, he didn't mind too much. The open rail was freedom, in its own way. It was a good life for an engine like him.
He honked at a few of the crossings, startling birds from the telephone wires. He chatted with the freight he pulled as he raced along, their voices crackling over the radio. The miles flew by beneath his wheels and before he knew it, his first stop was coming up ahead. There he helped detach hoppers and picked up filled ones to continue his trip.
The sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky a fiery orange, and Rail Jack found himself in the company of his fellow engines at their usual gathering spot near the refueling depot. It was there that he could take a moment to appreciate the unique qualities of each train that made up his little community.
Golden Spike, the yardmaster in traiing, was a force to be reckoned with. His blond hair and gleaming golds where the usual engines had yellow was easily recognizable among the others, and his road number "6900" embroidered on either side of his vest's collar gleamed in the fading sunlight. He had an air of authority about him, but beneath that tough exterior was a genuine heart. All he ever wanted was for this yard to be the most successful and to prevent anyone he loved from being decommissioned because of poor performance.
"Rail Jack, remember to keep your brakes well-adjusted, we pull the heaviest trains. A heavy train might make it easy to go downhill but that is also quite dangerous. It can quickly spiral out of control." he advised the red-haired engine as he rolled past, his deep voice was pleasant on the ears. Jack nodded in appreciation - Golden Spike always had a wealth of knowledge to share despite his 2 year service life so far. It seemed that Golden Spike had taken in every bit of advice he heard uttered by other engines.
"Will do, Golden Spike. Thank you, sir!" Jack replied, taking his advice to heart. After all, Golden Spike had been around the tracks longer than he had. He trusted an engine of his own kind more than others.
Then there was Angelus, the sleek and speedy passenger diesel engine. His shiny yellow and silver paint job reflected the last remnants of daylight, giving him a radiant glow. Angelus was known for his confidence and bravado, often boasting about the important passengers he carried on his famous route, "The City of Los Angeles."
"Hey, slowpoke!" Angelus teased, despite knowing that the centennials were quite fast for freight engines. Their speeds exceeded the usual 60 miles that the previous hot shots of the freight world held. The Centennials demonstrated impressive handling upwards of 90 miles on the track while hauling mile long trains of tonnage. "I bet you wish you could be as fast as me, huh? But'cha aren't!"
"Maybe one day, Angelus," Rail Jack chuckled, rolling his eyes playfully, "but for now, I'll stick with hauling freight. It's what I was built for and what I'm best at. Who knows, maybe I'll get to pull some passengers... some day."
"Freight doesn't need more speed than we've got. As long as it gets there in one piece then the humans are happy and if they're happy- I am as well." Golden Spike crossed his arms over his chest where he sat and closed his eyes. He rarely had time to properly rest and seemed to take solace in whatever short few minutes he had of peace.
Lastly, there was Gear Shift, a small, black switcher engine. Her infectious optimism and eagerness to help brought a smile to everyone's face, even during the toughest days. However, this same bubbly personality seemed to wear Golden Spike down. She was too much all of the time. But she and Rail Jack had become fast friends since they had arrived at the railyard around the same time. Despite that, Rail Jack was received with much more enthusiasm than the small diesel.�
"Hey, Jack!" Gear Shift called out as she scurried over to Jack's side.
Jack leaned over and hugged the small, drab diesel. "Gearie! It's nice to see you. Did you already top up your tank?"
"Sure have!" Gear Shift grinned, her engine humming happily. "So, how's your day been?"
"Same as always, Gear," Jack replied with a sigh. "But I can't complain. There's something comforting about knowing what to expect each day. It isn't like your day and be disappointing if you know you'll pull a nice heavy train."
"True, true," she agreed, nodding her head thoughtfully. �"That does make things a little more bearable. You don't believe how crabby some of the switchters are. Especially those steam engines."
Golden Spike frowned and opened one of his eyes. The diesel-yellow headlight beamed down on Gear Shift as she smiled up at him with her blue eyes. "That's because us diesels are better. Soon enough all those coal crunchers will be good for is to steam the newly retired dining car's dumplings during the moon festival season. We should open the Canteen..It has been closed for so long. a good source of income for our yard. I will suggest it to the yardmaster."
"Maybe they wouldn't be so mad if we didn't tell them we were better all the time?" She shrugged with a smile.
"Not a chance. They know it full well. The old steamer in charge of this place never had the yard working this efficiently. Ever since I've been assigned Yardmaster In-training, things have been better." A rare smile flashed on Golden Spike's face. �"That should be enough of a change for them to feel ashamed. The company has had nothing but praise for all of us!"
"So, Jack?" Angelus chimed in as he moved as if stretching his legs and then flexed his arms. He rolled his feet back and forth in place. "Race you to the end of the yard?"
"Angelus, won't that keep some of the old-timers up? I think they're asleep." Jack said gently, but a part of him couldn't resist the thrill of the challenge. He was too new to not want to show off.
"Come on, Jack!" Angelus encouraged, grinning mischievously. "You know you want to~! I just look so good from behind, you can't resist."
"Fine," Jack conceded, the spirit of competitiveness surging through his two prime movers. "But just a short one. End of the yard and back here- and you'll be the one looking at my back."
"Deal!" Angelus agreed, and with that, the two diesels were off revving as they disappeared into the darkness.
Golden Spike sighed, letting his spitter valves hiss, "Angelus never asks me to race..."
Gear Shift giggled, "Maybe he will next time!"
Golden then smirked, "Or he just knows I will win. Hah."
As the two engines raced down the tracks, they honked to get others out of their way. They enjoyed the exhilarating sensation of speed and feeling the wind whip past them like a thousand invisible fingers. One thing was certain, those traction motors on the centennials were something else as Jack quickly pulled in front of Angelus during this quick short race.
As they returned to the small meeting place, They could see the glowing headlights of Gear Shift and Golden Spike watching them.
"Wow, Jack!" Gear Shift exclaimed when the two larger diesels finally slowed to a stop, motors whirring from the effort. "You really picked up some speed back there! I don't think I ever saw you move that fast!"
"Must be all that practice," Rail Jack grinned, "Its easier to run when there's not a million tons behind you!" He turned to Golden Spike, expecting a reprimand for their little escapade, but instead found a smile on his face.
"Alright, you two," Golden Spike chuckled, "I want you all to get some rest. Tomorrow's another day, and who knows what it might bring."
"Will do, boss!" Gear Shift and Rail Jack chimed in unison, already eager for the next day's work.
Golden Spike turned his eyes to the passenger diesel, "Angelus?"
"Right! Just had my mind on something else." Angelus said as quietly as he could.
"Well those coaches won't like it if you don't get your rest. You need a proper rest to clean up your files and keep your mental health at its tip top shape. Remember that. An engine who doesn't rest will have problems with even simple tasks." Golden Spike said as he looked down to his feet. It sounded like he had experienced that first hand. He rolled one foot back and forth on the dirt making a groove. After some idling, he stood up and looked toward the direction of the engine sheds, "Come on then. Let's go."
The four diesels then walked to their individual sheds to tuck in for the night. Telling each other some rolling stock goodnight wishes. Rail Jack and Golden Spike were the last to separate, their sheds were near each other's where the other DDA40X's rested. "Keep up the good work, Golden. The humans really seem to love you."
"You too, Jack." Golden hugged his fellow engine and patted him on the back, "You shine among the others and really set yourself apart with the power you bring to the rail. I'm proud to be the same kind of engine as you."
=== === ===
The next morning, Rail Jack joined Gear Shift to help move some empty freight cars around the yard. She was her usual cheerful self, though he noticed her mind seemed to be miles away while they worked.
"Well- thanks for the help, Jack," she held her hands together in front of her chest. "I don't know what I'd do without you!"�
"Don't mention it," He said. "We've been working together for so long, it's second nature by now."�
Gear Shift sighed. "Sometimes I wish for a little change though. Don't you ever get tired of the same old routine day after day?"�
He hesitated, unsure of how to respond. "This is the job we were built for," He said, "Might as well make the best of it, right?"�
Gear Shift frowned, clearly disappointed with my answer. Rail Jack felt a pang of guilt, but remained resolute with what he had said. They had work to do, and dreaming of other possibilities wouldn't change anything. After a few moments of tense silence, She spoke again, her voice soft. "Hey Jack? Do you ever wonder what's beyond these tracks?" Gear Shift asked.
Rail Jack glanced over at her, "Sometimes," He admitted, "But I'll be honest. I like seeing the rail near me if not under my feet. I think it would be scary to not see it. I mean, where would you even go?"
"True," Gear Shift smiled. "I bet you see so many places just at the edge of the horizon that you want to go to, don't you? Where do the birds go? Where do the humans live go after they step off of our trains?"
Jack stayed quiet this time, his mind was heavy thinking about what was beyond the rails. He then spoke up, "We're almost done here Gear Shift. Then we can get our break."
Things continued in their usual fashion for the next few hours. Gear Shift and Rail Jack worked side by side, tearing through the workload assigned to them. The routine was predictable but not unpleasant, especially with the cheerful chatter to keep them company.�
As the warm night arrived and the sky was painted in shades of orange and pink, Rail Jack found himself basking in the fading light of the long summer day taking in the now cooling air. The air was thick with the scent of diesel, oil, and coal, and the gentle hum of distant engines filled the evening.
That's when he saw something strange flickering at the edge of his vision. At first, he thought it was just the usual sparks flying from the wheels grinding against the rails, but as his gaze lingered, he realized something magical was happening. A swarm of tiny, glowing stars danced in the air, their delicate flashes of light beating in rhythm with the distant hum of diesels and chuffs of steamers.
"By the silver tracks-...the stars are... falling?" Rail Jack whispered, barely able to contain his mixed awe and fear. He'd heard stories about this from the older engines - little stars lighting up the warm night air, their origins shrouded in mystery. He marveled at their enchanting glow. With each flash, the fireflies seemed to beckon him closer, inviting him to join their mesmerizing dance.
He couldn't resist; he had to get a closer look. He crept forward, his wheels turning slowly so as not to startle the fallen stars. But no matter what he did it seemed as if the stars did not get any bigger. They still looked like constellations woven into the flowing fabric of the night. A few of the stars flitted closer as if to greet him, before returning to their waltz in the air. That's when he realized that these stars weren't far away. These stars were absolutely tiny.
He began tracing the movements of the fallen stars with his finger, attempting to decipher any patterns or messages hidden within their luminous dance. "Up, down, left, right... no, that's not it," he muttered to himself. "Ah! Maybe it's a loop... or a figure-eight!" Rail Jack exclaimed, his eyes widening with anticipation. It seemed as if he was on the brink of a breakthrough, his mind racing with possibilities. "Or perhaps," he pondered, his gaze never leaving the little blinking stars, "it's more like morse code. A series of dashes and dots that spell out some sort of message..."
"Rail Jack, what are you doing out here?" A deep voice rumbled from behind Jack, snapping him back to reality.
Jack swiveled around on his wheels, surprised to see the familiar sight of the yardmaster in-trianing. "Golden Spike!" he exclaimed, trying to hide his surprise. "I was just, uh... admiring the stars!" He gestured towards the tiny 'stars' still swirling around them, their lights flashing like signals in the darkness.
"I see," he replied, his tone warm and understanding. As he moved closer, Jack could hear the gears of his powerful engine humming like a well-oiled symphony. A humming nearly identical to his own. "They are quite mesmerizing, aren't they?"
"Yeah," Jack agreed, my gaze drifting back to the fallen stars. "I've never seen anything like it before. Do you know how they... do that?" he asked, motioning to their rhythmic glow.
Golden Spike chuckled, "No, but I do not think I want to know. It would ruin our belief of them. They are not stars however, they are fireflies."
"Fireflies." Jack repeated, savoring the word as it rolled off his tongue.
"Well, Rail Jack, have you ever heard the tale of old famous trains put to pasture, stars, and their connection to the fireflies?" Golden Spike used his hands to railsign 'sit' and motioned to the ground.
The two centennials sat on the grass, arms crossed over their knees as they looked out at the swarm of fireflies.
Jack felt a tinge of sadness at the thought of those once-proud engines being laid to rest. It wasn't something that crossed his mind often. "No, I haven't."
"Ah, then let me share the story with you," Golden replied, his eyes shining with excitement. "You see, when a piece of rolling stock has finished its runs and is put out of service for decommissioning, it doesn't simply vanish from existence. Instead, its spirit remains, watching over the railyard and protecting its fellow trains as stars in the night sky." He pointed up to the sky and turned his head to the constellations, "All the way up there."
Jack blinked in surprise, but found himself truly captivated by the idea. It was strangely comforting to think that they were never truly alone, even in the darkest moments. He gazed up thinking about the thousands of rolling stock and then the thousands of stars in the night sky. It made sense.
"Fireflies," Golden Spike continued, "are said to be the spirits of the decommissioned trains coming down to remind us of their presence and their eternal bond with us. They come down for a short while to visit their old rail yards and see how the fleet is doing. A reunion if you will. You might even see them in your shed taking care of you through the night."
As Rail Jack gazed at the fireflies once more, their lights seemed to hold an even deeper meaning now. A connection to those who had come before them, a symbol of unity and love transcending time and space. "...that's incredible," Rail Jack murmured, awestruck by the revelation. "But why do they choose fireflies of all things to visit us?"
"Perhaps it's because they look like stars or because of their ephemeral nature," he mused with a shrug. "They're here for just a short time, but their impact is profound. Much like the trains that have come and gone before us, leaving lasting impressions in the hearts of rolling stock and human alike."
"That's not the only thing I have to say" Golden Spike laid down and held his hands together just under his chest. "One summer evening, just like this one, a young engine found himself stranded on the tracks, unable to move due to a mechanical issue. That same night, a silvery blue swarm of fireflies appeared. some of them separated from the swarm. Upon their return, it turned out that they had been guiding help to the young engine. He made it back safely to the railyard because of them. It was believed that the Starlight Express's spirit had taken the form of the fireflies to help the engine in need."
Rail Jack laid down as well, though on his side, to look at some fireflies that had descended to land on his frame. "So the Starlight Express.."
"Is real? Probably. Probably not" Golden smiled. "Won't stop me from believing." His motors rumbled quietly for a diesel, "I heard from old steam engines that on summer nights, if you listen closely, you can listen to the fireflies and they will tell you tales of routes long abandoned and places not accessible by rail. They connect us to our past, and remind us of our purpose."
Rail Jack let himself relax, his motors slowing to idle as he let his black box whirr with imagination as he gazed into the firefly swarm illuminating the night. He began to see rails leading to hidden mountain passes, secluded desert sidings, dusty switchyards, and twisting forest tracks. "I have to see it," Jack said, transfixed by their dance. "All of it. No matter how far or wild the route. I'll go wherever they go. Learn every story, travel every mile of track they light up in the night. I'll chase those fireflies to the ends of the rails and back again, if that's what it takes."
�Golden Spike laughed loudly, "You can't go on chasing stars Jack! You'll never reach them. You'll wear your motors down....but I would do the same if my job wasn't to run this place. I think every engine wants to be a firefly chaser. Even the ones who might deny it."
Jack's voice was quiet, "When I'm tired...and my frame is broken and old. I want to become a star like those famous engines. Do you think I'll make it?"
"Think? I promise." Golden Spike carefully gathered some of the fireflies in his hands and cupped them together. "And when my own time is over, I'll come and find you among the stars." He brought his hands up to his face and blew out some air, the fireflies flew out of his hands like sparks from a welder's torch. He smiled at Rail Jack. "Promise me you'll last as long as you can too? We'll see who can run the longest."
"I'll run the longest." Jack smirked.
"You think so? We'll see." Golden Spike's voice was full of amusement. He shut off his motors one first and then the other. "I think to last the longest, we should let our motors rest and let out minds sleep."
"That sounds like a pleasant idea..." Jack did the same.
And the sounds of a sleepy diesel engines slowly became audible as their hot metal creaked in the summer night air.
=== === ===
Like what you read? Consider tipping here: https://ko-fi.com/kerkopesart