Chapter Text
December 24, 1975.
Jack’s POV:
I entered the Oiwake Locomotive shed at my usual time that morning. I felt a buzz in the air as my foot stepped across the threshold of our locker room.
That day wasn’t only the last day D51 241 would run a service route, it also would be the last steam locomotive to run in regular service in the whole of Japan. That was the biggest news on the railways because it meant times were changing. Fewer animals would be needed for maintenance, and there would be a surplus of workers left over who no longer had roles. Fireanimals would have to either be trained to drive the new diesel locomotives or find a job elsewhere, and the railways were losing a large chunk of their heritage.
I turned the corner and came face to face with my boyfriend, Legoshi. He was busy polishing the valve gear and connecting rods on the wheels of 241, which I honestly expected. No.241 held an extraordinary place in his heart, and it was very clear to anyone who knew him. 241 had never changed home depot, she had always stayed at Oiwake, even through the Carni-Herbi war. When Legoshi and I joined the railway, the first locomotive he drove was 241, and he fell in love with her. He would always be the one to ensure she was kept in operational order, and would stay overtime to work on her himself if something wasn’t right. 241 was his passion, and he wouldn’t ever leave her.
That was possible too, because she was listed for preservation after her final run.
That leaves us where we were before, with me leaning against a DD16 diesel locomotive, just gazing lovingly at the wolf who I called my boyfriend.
“Good morning,” I greeted, cheerily. I think Legoshi might have been in his own little world when I addressed him because I remember startling the poor guy to the point he banged his head against one of the connecting rods. Even though I was laughing, I still rushed over.
“Are you alright?”
“I’m fine,” He responded through the gritted teeth of pain, “Just don’t startle me like that. Fuck, that really hurts.”
“Sorry, Legoshi. Are you sure you’re OK? Do you want me to take you to the hospital?”
“I’ll live. I’m not dazed or anything.”
“That’s good,” I replied.
There was a few seconds of silence between us. It wasn’t an awkward silence, more like an appreciative silence. I gazed at 241 while Legoshi got back to polishing. He was almost finished, as he did most of the work the night before (with the help of a few other animals, of course).
Before I could stop myself, I asked Legoshi probably the most stupid question I’d ever asked. Looking back at myself, I cringe at it.
“Why are you polishing her?”
My boyfriend just looked at me with a ‘really?’ face, but he answered nonetheless.
“It’s her last day in service. You know how much I love Degoichi, and you know I want her to look her best”
That was quite clear. 241 was the Oiwake depot’s child. They had taken the best care of her for 39 years, and she would no longer be used for the regular freight trains to and from this town. It would be sad to see her go, but Diesel engines were becoming more and more prominent as the years crawled on. They were more efficient, and could pull longer trains with smaller locomotives.
Legoshi finished up with the last bit of polishing and stood up, gazing at 241 with reverence. The unadulterated size of the thing was enough to make you stare, and that wasn’t to mention the polished finish, the stunning red connecting rods, the white trim lining the running board, or the gold accents with the number plaques. She was a bewitching sight to behold that day.
Everyone at the depot crowded around 241, including the ones who were scheduled to do other work. It was a big moment for everyone. We would all miss her.
“We touched up the red paint on the connecting rods and redid the white lining on the side. She’s had special maintenance for this run,” I mention. Legoshi wraps his arm around my body and pulls me closer to him. He was just smiling; no words escape him.
I looked down at my watch and noticed that it was 10:15. There was only about an hour left until Degoichi headed out with her final freight train, and she wasn’t ready for running in the slightest. Before I could notify everyone though, Louis called down from the running board.
“I know we all want to admire her on her final day, but work comes first. Get back to it. Oh, and Legoshi, you’re in the driver’s cab with me today.” Louis patted the smoke deflector.
Legoshi nodded and started walking towards the cab. He had a horrible look in his eyes, one of great sadness. It was clear he wanted to work with her forever, but knew it wouldn’t be possible.
So I did what I could. I caught up to him and turned him to face me before planting a quick kiss on his lips and bringing him into a close embrace.
“Don’t worry, you’ll be working with her in preservation. She’ll never leave you.”
Legoshi smiled and kissed me again, but the deep pain was still in his eyes. He didn’t want me to notice that before he climbed into the cab, but I did notice it. I hated seeing Legoshi like that, but maybe some pain can’t be washed away so easily.
I heard them opening and closing valves. I heard Legoshi shovelling coal. I heard the fire blaze. The only thing left to do was to go back to my workstation, where I was performing an inspection on a new DD16 diesel locomotive. They were simple enough, and they didn’t break as easily. But there was no charm. No passion. They were just machines, built to get whatever job done. Frankly, they were boring as fuck. And it was rather distressing to know that one of these things would be replacing the piece of art that was the D51.
—---------------------------------------------
Legoshi’s POV:
The locomotive was fully ready to go in just over an hour.
I relayed to Louis that we were to pull a train of 17 wagons to the coal mine in Yubari, then bring the loaded train back to Oiwake. It was a large train that would supply the two towns with enough coal to last a few weeks.
Louis nodded and slowly wound the reverser clockwise, then gently opened the regulator. I looked out of the window and noticed everyone standing around, watching her exit slowly. How magnificent this behemoth must look, rolling out of here on this special day. Such a sad day.
I spotted Jack standing on the running plate of the diesel he was inspecting, waving to me. Of course, I did what any other animal would have, and waved back to him. Even from our distance apart, I could tell that he blushed. He knew I would, yet he still couldn't keep it in. That's why I was so in love with him.
The locomotive rolled slowly onto the turntable outside the shed. Of course, the turntables were built to fit these giants, but they were still only in the tolerance of a couple of metres on each end. Standing, that’s quite a lot of distance. In a locomotive, however, it may as well have been a few centimetres. The way these locomotives were built made the visibility as to what was directly in front of you very limited, and seeing behind you was a pain because of the tender. That’s why there was an animal standing at the end of the turntable with a whistle. They would notify the driver when to brake the moment a part of the tender rolled onto the turntable.
Within a matter of seconds, the nearly 77-tonne locomotive had been redirected to track 2, where it would reverse to the east yard. I still remember when those turntables were powered by animal labour, and it would take 5 minutes to rotate 2 tracks. The implementation of electricity really was a marvellous thing.
—-------------------
We slowly exited the east yard, 17 wagons in tow. Hauling these wagons wasn’t hard in the slightest, but it looked impressive.
As we were exiting, I noticed, in a siding, 5 other D51s. 231, 320, 422, 178, and 86. They were all being stored for scrap, and none of them would ever be run again.
Louis opened the regulator ever so slightly and I shovelled coal. We worked surprisingly well as a team, which would normally be frowned upon by other animals. A carnivore and a herbivore working together was not the usual sight, especially when one of those animals was gay. However, Louis could influence a room to do something just by standing. He had a much bigger presence than someone like me or Jack because his looks, strength, and passion for the job were the qualities of a leader. He also had the confidence to be in that position, which is what everyone else lacked.
I checked the boiler pressure gauge, shut the firebox door, placed the shovel in its handle on the back wall of the cab, and took a seat in the co-drivers seat. It felt so good to be around Degoichi on her final day, let alone be part of the crew that drove her.
It was awfully silent in the cab (minus the sound of the locomotive), so I decided to strike up a light conversation with the driver. It was never my strong point by any means, but at that moment I didn’t care. I wanted to learn more about the deer next to me.
“Hey, Louis,” I started, “We always work well as a team but I don’t know anything about you.”
Louis just shrugged while giving a slight hum. He was always rather distant towards other animals one to one, which greatly contrasted his aura around large groups. Even though I thought it would be best to leave him alone, I still continued to talk.
“Your vibe completely changes when you’re around animals individually, why?”
This caught Louis’ attention. He didn’t look at me, but he answered the question with a question.
“I don’t know. Why are you so quiet in big groups, but so sociable one-to-one?”
I had to think about that one for a second. It seemed that I was the complete opposite of this deer for all of the same reasons.
“I lack confidence in big groups. You can pull a room around you without trying, while I just like being alone.”
“I guess that’s kind of like me then,” Louis answered, “I guess I don’t feel confident in myself when talking one to one.”
A few seconds of silence passed before Louis asked me something I didn’t expect.
“Why did you come to work here?”
“On the railways?”
“Yeah.”
It took me a second to remember the day I came to work on the railways. I was only 16. Jack and I had loved railways since we were children, and we both vowed to work on one in the future. The sound of the D51s and C62s rushing past our houses in the dead of night may have been annoying for some, but it opened a world of aspirations for us. Hearing the locomotives’ deep voices shout out to their surroundings when their whistles were blown sparked the imagination of our young selves. What were they talking about? What did they want us to know? What were their histories? Their souls? Their personalities? We wanted to know the locomotives as if they were an extension of our own body, and we would protect them as if they were our own.
I told Louis as much, and he really listened. Even though he was concentrating on the rails ahead, he still took a portion of his concentration and locked it on me.
I finished explaining my past with railways, and he asked another question.
“So, why did you choose 241 to love? What was different about this than every other D51 in the shed at the time?”
I didn’t even have to think before answering.
“I didn’t choose to love 241, It just so happened that I fell upon her footplate,” I said as I patted the side of the cab wall.
The stag seemed perplexed. ‘Fell upon her footplate’ was not a clear explanation to anybody who didn’t know me, and that included Louis.
“She was the first locomotive I was assigned to, both to maintain and to drive. Something about her just makes me feel inexplicably happy. All the other D51s were nice, and they all had their separate personalities, but I feel like I connected so much better with this one.”
I paused for a moment, mulling over what I just dumped on the driver. Personalities? Connected better with 241? I couldn’t even fathom what that might sound like to an outsider.
“Sorry,” I apologised, “I probably sound crazy.”
“You don’t sound crazy,” is all the deer acknowledged my rant with. He said it in such a way that there was no tone in his voice, and that hurt more than any level of disgust could.
There was silence before the buck spoke up again, but I can’t remember what he said. All I remember from the rest of that trip was growing more comfortable around Louis, and we became much closer.
—-----------------------------
It was almost dark by the time we left our destination. The volume of coal that was deposited into the train was monumental, and it added at least the weight of the locomotive on top of the load that was already there.
It was quiet in the cab; neither Louis nor I spoke a word. Louis sat in the driver’s seat and watched for signals and signs (while of course adjusting the regulator, brakes, and reverser whenever necessary), while I shovelled the coal and kept an eye on the gauges to make sure nothing was in the red. We had reverted back to our old way of work.
Well, we hadn’t. Not really.
“We’re coasting now,” Louis asserted. I placed the shovel on the hook on the side of the cab and sat in the co-driver’s seat, looking out for signals and turning valves when necessary.
The silence returned to the cab, and a dead sort of air fell once again between us. We were silent for at least a few minutes before I finally decided to speak up.
“The Yubari line,” I said, quietly, “has a steep slope, and we have a heavy train. Every time I’ve been on this line, I always had to empty the coal from the tender into the locomotive, and I had a lot of valves to turn. It’s incredibly hard for me to work on this route.”
Louis had not only a perplexed expression on his face, but also one filled with curiosity. I know it was probably a weird thing to say out of the blue, but it was something I just had to get off my chest.
“However, when I go to help at other engine depots in the area, they’re all saying the same thing.”
“And what’s that?” Louis asked.
I paused for a moment, taking a deep breath. Why was I telling all of this to him? What was the point of this? Why was it Louis that I was unloading all of this onto?
“They always say that they are lucky to have me there because I come from Oiwake. That they don’t need to worry because I belong to Oiwake.”
The deer next to me reacted with… surprise? He was kind of taken aback by what I told him because I think he expected something completely different. I think he expected me to say that I was bullied or insulted whenever I went to neighbouring sheds to work on other lines. That I was just some small town boy who should turn away because I had no status in life.
“It is my greatest honour as one who works on the railways that we are held in such high regard. That other animals look up to us because of the tough lines we traverse.”
There was a short pause while I gathered my thoughts.
“That is… until today. These new diesel locomotives do not have to be filled with coal. They do not have water injectors, no water pumps, no regulating valves, no reverser, no bypass valves, no drain valves. Nothing. They've lost the soul that made lots of animals fall in love with these steam locomotives. Now, they're just…"
"Machines built for purpose," Louis quietly responded, catching me off guard.
"Exactly. It’s the purpose that worries me as well."
Louis silently listened to me as I rambled on.
“These new locomotives are built to be as reliable as possible. Fewer parts need to be maintained, which means less waiting time for parts. It also means that the inspection cycle becomes much less frequent, and that the locomotives have more time to get to their home depots before needing their little maintenance.”
There was a short pause, the silence only being filled by the roaring fire and the mechanical music of the pistons.
“It’s very likely that Oiwake depot will become obsolete,” Is the last thing I could say before I had to wipe away the tears before they rolled down my face. The thought of losing not only steam engines, but also all of my coworkers and friends was simply too much for me to handle, and I had started to crack; to let myself go. I had endured this long without breaking down, but it was all for nothing.
“Look at me. I’m a complete wreck, crying over nothing.”
Louis turned his head towards me, then right back to the track ahead.
“It’s not nothing,” he said quietly, “The steam locomotives have been a big part of your life since you were a teenager, You’ve become more attached to them than the other workers, and that’s ok.”
Another silence fell between the two animals as they got back to work. I shovelled coal and Louis manned the levers and gauges.
The rest of the journey was quite quiet. We didn’t speak much more, but we had gotten our personalities across. Neither of us was uncomfortable with the other anymore, and that made me feel a bit strange. For four years I had been working with this deer, and the only time I decide to strike up a conversation is on the last day of Degoichi’s service. Strange how that works, isn’t it?
—--------------------------------------------------------
I uncoupled the tender from the train with relative ease.
We had reached our destination of Oiwake yard at 11:04 PM, and both Louis and I were at a state of fatigue that meant we could fall asleep on a load of coal and be comfortable. I’d have told you at that point I wouldn’t have missed that about the locomotive, but the following morning I would have told you otherwise.
I was almost back to the cab when I noticed Louis climb down the ladder that got us there. We still had to bring the loco back to the shed, so why he was leaving already confused me.
“Hey, where are you going?”
“Home. Can you bring her in?”
Part of me wanted to say no, that he should come back because it was fucking difficult to drive a full-size steam locomotive with no fireman. That the way the regulator was built didn’t allow it to be left unmanned like it was in British and American locomotives, as it operated like a foot pedal you would find in an automobile rather than a valve or a lever you would turn.
However, the other part of me knew that these steam locomotives could be driven short distances without needing a fireman, so long as I loaded the firebox with enough to get through. We weren’t as stringent with our coal as they were in the UK, so there was no need to be so efficient.
“Alright, I’ll bring her in. See you tomorrow.”
Louis smiled, nodded, and turned around, walking to the gate that blocked the foot crossing as I climbed back into the cab.
The coal felt so much heavier in the shovel because of how tired I was, but I wouldn’t let that stop me. Somebody had to get this loco over to the shed, and it was me who was going to do it. I didn’t really mind all that much because it left me alone with 241 for the last few minutes of my shift, and that was something I couldn’t be happier about. I threw a few shovels of coal into the firebox and closed the firebox door.
Sitting down in my seat, I tapped the cab wall of 241 as a small smile crept on my face. I got to drive her on her final day of service, and it was such an honour. Even if it was only a few hundred feet, I would treasure this memory forever.
“Here we go. This is your final time fired up, You alright?”
The locomotive, to the untrained or unattached, did absolutely nothing. However, to me, I felt her deflate, but only slightly. She felt either depressed or relieved, and I had a sneaky suspicion it was a depressed sigh. She would never see the rails again; not the open track, nor the world around her. She would no longer witness the scenery constantly change around her as she thundered along the track. She would no longer see the beautiful seasons of Oiwake. All she would see would be a door she could never escape, and hundreds of animals staring at her from a distance.
“I feel that way too,” is all I could reply with.
I pulled her whistle, and she gave a sad, flatter note to her usual upbeat, slightly sharper one before she pulled away with my foot on the regulator pedal.
That’s the thing with steam locomotives. They never were just machines. They had lives, memories, and emotions. No matter how many were built, there was always at least one animal that would put their complete heart and soul into building it, and that passion for building would leave an impression on the entire locomotive. It would now be an animal alongside us. No longer would it be a machine, it would be a friend. It would be a comrade. It would be family.
That’s something that the new diesel engines lacked. If any passion was to be found in those, then it was few and far between. The new locomotives were less complicated, so there were more of them built. That meant the animals working on them lost their passion, and a locomotive built without passion is nothing more than a heap of metal.
Slowly, gently, I inched her into the shed for the final time. It truly was a devastating moment for me, because the truth finally set in. Degoichi would no longer be free. She would sit in a museum for the rest of time. Animals would gaze upon her glory for generations, which was a reassuring thought. They wouldn’t, however, know the true power of her glory, her strength, her emotions.
I applied the brakes and came to a stop in the shed, right in her usual place. Tears were welling in my eyes again, but I didn’t wipe them away this time. I let them roll for a couple of minutes, because I wanted to be with her, and I wanted her to know that I would truly miss her.
However, we cannot live in the past, so I applied the hand brake, stood up from the driver’s seat, and climbed down the ladder leading from the cab to the ground.
Rubbing my paw against her bodywork once again, I uttered the final words I would speak to her.
“Goodbye, Degoichi”