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Duncan never, ever crossed that old bridge at night. During the day? Sure. But at night? No. Nah. Nope. Absolutely not. Never. And why? Simple. Every time he tried crossing that damn bridge at night, the ghost train emerged. The ghost of that engine who fell off the bridge and was lost to the river below.
Others said it was just fireflies who happened to be in the shape of an engine, but Duncan didn't believe that. Absolute rot. Mindless bugs coming together every night to form a shape? Near impossible. It must've been the ghost engine manipulating them somehow.
The other narrow gauge engines found it very funny. Too funny. Especially Rusty, the little diesel who had told him the story to begin with. That diesel thought they were so clever. He could hear them laugh every time he said he saw the ghost engine again.
Fine enough, though. He could just avoid the bridge at the night and only cross it during the day. Or, uh, so he thought. The Thin Controller wanted a load delivered early one night, and of course, the engine chosen for the job was…
'Me?!' Duncan cried. 'I ain't doin' it!'
The Thin Controller crossed his arms at him. 'It wasn't a suggestion, Duncan. That was an order.'
'Ya cannot make me cross that bridge! Not at night. That ghost engine could come out at any moment!'
'Oh, not this story about the ghost engine again…'
Duncan could hear his fellow narrow gauges laughing it up. Even Sir Handel had a smile on his face. Skarloey and Rheneas whispered to each other about it, and whatever they were saying, Duncan knew he hated it. Peter Sam had a particularly loud laugh too, that echoed through his special funnel.
Rusty wasn't laughing, but they had a big grin on that stupid square face of theirs.
'It's true, I tell ya!' Duncan said. 'Ya can't be tellin' me that a bunch'a bugs can come tagether every night ta look like an engine. It ain't possible!'
'Whether you actually believe in that story,' The Thin Controller said. 'Or you're just looking for an excuse not to do your work, I don't care. I've given you a job to do, and I expect that you'll get it done.'
'I'll be on stand-by,' Rusty said. 'Just in case Duncan gets spooked a little too much and comes running back with his load.'
That little diesel should've been very grateful that Duncan considered them a good friend, or they would've had hell to pay for that kind of remark. As much as Duncan wanted to resist such an order, he knew he couldn't. He had already been in trouble a dozen times for his hardheaded attitude. It was best not to make it another time.
So, he was coupled up to a line of trucks and was on his way. The other engines continued to laugh at him as he left for the viaduct. The night was illuminated only by the full moon in the sky. The leaves rustled in a slight breeze, providing the only sound to be heard for miles around. The only other thing Duncan could hear was his own parts working, which sounded much louder than usual. They echoed in the silence of the night.
'Hoo! Hoo!' An owl chirped, breaking the silence for a moment.
It spooked Duncan so hard that he almost rock-and-rolled straight off the tracks, like he used to. The water in his boiler felt as though it was sloshing around and splashing about. It was like the engine equivalent of nausea. He was torn between going slow to stall out his arrival at the viaduct, or racing as fast as he could to get it over with quicker. The result was a jerky medium pace and a journey that seemed both too long and too short.
The only thing stopped him from reversing was the knowledge that nothing but laughter and teasing awaited him if he didn't get the load delivered.
Soon enough, he arrived at that dreaded bridge. The same one that old engine was said to have fallen off all those years ago on its way back home. Duncan came to a dead stop at the edge of the cliff, grinding to a halt as fast as a locomotive possibly could. He trembled so much that his wheels rattled.
Just looking at the other side of the bridge felt like staring directly into a dark tunnel with no way out.
But Duncan knew he had to press on. The ghost engine hadn't emerged yet, so he eased himself onto the viaduct. The bridge seemed to creak under his weight.
'This whole bridge oughta be torn down,' He grumbled. 'Ya think they'd get rid'a it after an engine fell ta their demise on it, but nooo. We're all just expected ta keep crossin' it like it was no big deal!'
Of course, the safety of the bridge and the possibility of falling off wasn't Duncan's main concern. If he cared about those things, he wouldn't have crossed it even during the day. But those stories didn't help.
'Somethin's gonna happen ta one of us one of these days,' He continued. 'And odds are, it's gonna be me, cos it's always me. And the Thin Controller's gonna keep sendin' engines across because he doesn't give a- AH!'
His grumbling came to a stop. So did Duncan himself, right in the middle of the viaduct. His eyes stared dead ahead, locked on one thing.
There it was.
The Ghost Engine.
The fireflies came together to form the shape of an engine, the same shape he had seen nights before. Definitely not just dumb bugs flying around. It must've been the Ghost Engine summoning them or something. It sounded ridiculous, but there was no other possibility!
'Get back!' Duncan shouted. 'I don't wanna see ya comin' a wheel-turn closer!'
He tried to sound angry and confident, but he couldn't. His voice quivered and wavered with nerves and panic. The mechanical trembles of his wheels echoed through the valley.
'I'm warnin' ya!' He said. 'If ya don't turn back now, I'll… I'll blow me whistle at ya! How does that sound?'
The threat, weak as it was, didn't work at all. The fireflies making up the Ghost Engine's body inched towards him slowly.
'I-I'm tellin' ya!' Duncan said, sounding far more terrified than angry by this point. 'I'm a terrifyin' engine!'
It was no good. The Ghost Engine kept moving forward. Its movement started off slow, so slow an old traction engine with half its wheels missing could outrun it. But it sped up quickly. Duncan could've sworn he heard the tracks buckling underneath it.
'S-STAY BACK!'
Without a moment's hesitation, he reversed back to his side of the bridge. Once safely back on land again, he didn't go backwards another inch. The mere thought of all the humiliation he'd face upon arrival kept him firmly in place.
But that Ghost Engine kept approaching, faster and faster.
'Don't hurt me!' Duncan cried. 'I ain't done nothin' ta ya!'
The Ghost Engine crept closer.
And closer.
And closer.
Duncan closed his eyes and hoped for the best.
Prayed for the best.
A whistle, sounding much like a distant broken flute, peeped into the night. Duncan had never heard a whistle from the Ghost Engine before. He cracked his eyes wide open in fright. Just in time to see the fireflies reach the halfway point before scattering in different directions.
Duncan was still scared for his life. His puff was still coming out in harsh beats. But now, he was a little curious. Perhaps confused.
'H-Hello?' He said into the darkness. 'Ghost Engine? Are… are ya there?'
The whistle echoed again. Duncan shuddered. But there was something different about the whistle this time. It sounded, for lack of a better word, forlorn. Lonely. Sad. Hesitantly, Duncan blew his own whistle in response. The forlorn sound came again.
The fireflies gathered again on the other side, forming the shape once more. The Ghost Engine wasted no time and slowly drove onto the bridge. Its forlorn whistle echoed in the valley.
Duncan gasped.
'Wait a minute,' He said. 'Ya ain't tryin' ta haunt me. Ya just tryin' ta get home!'
The whistle was blown again. Duncan couldn't be certain, but it almost sounded like a 'yes'. The Ghost Engine inched forward, slowly and carefully. Now, faced with the reality of what was really happening, Duncan trembled at the wheels again.
That ghost still scared him. No doubt about that. But to think that the Ghost Engine had been trying all these years to get back home, only to fail over and over again…
Duncan may have been grumbly and stubborn, but deep down, he had a good heart.
'Now hold on!' He said. 'Ya can't just keep tryin' the same thing over and over again. All those years of crossin' the bridge on yeh own hasn't done nothin'. Don't go another wheel-turn further. I'm comin' ta help!'
And so, he puffed forward. Slowly. Across the bridge. The rails creaked under his wheels. The wind whistled past his funnel and through his cab. His wheels shuddered so much that you'd think they were about to fall off. But puff on he did.
'I know it's scary…' Duncan said. 'But we ain't gettin' through this alone.'
The Ghost Engine didn't move. It simply stood there, waiting. With no face visible on that smoke box, Duncan had no idea how it was feeling. But it wasn't moving away.
'T-That's it,' Duncan said, chugging along slowly. 'Stay right there. I'll couple up ta ya. And then, we can take the trip tagether.'
The whistle came again. It almost sounded like an agreement this time. Duncan continued to inch forward, summoning all the steam and courage he had. It wasn't easy. With each creak he heard, his wheels juddered. And the track felt far more unstable than usual.
But there he was.
Crossing the track.
Facing that Ghost Engine head-on.
Until, eventually, he reached the other side.
'Okay, I'm here,' He said. 'Ya won't be alone anymore.'
He could feel the fireflies against his buffers. Now, he was face-to-face with the faceless ghost. The whistle was blown yet again. This time, it sounded almost happy.
It would be a lie to say that Duncan wasn't scared anymore. Truthfully, he was still terrified out of his wits. Up this close, the engine hardly resembled an engine anymore. More like a swarm of bugs. But was he going to let that stop him, now that he had come this far? Absolutely not.
'Now,' Duncan said. 'W-We just need ta couple ya up. I'm sure we can find a way ta-'
A few fireflies emerged from the swarm and wrapped themselves around Duncan's hook, as if they were forming a rope or chain. Once they were 'secured', Duncan could feel a weight. It wasn't much. Hardly anything at all. Lighter than a truck full of feathers. But a weight nonetheless.
'Yes!' He said. 'We're coupled up. Now, are ya ready ta cross the bridge?'
Another whistle. There was no mistaking what this one said. Yes!
'Alright then!' Duncan said. 'I'll lead the way. You just keep on puffin'!'
With that, he began to puff backwards. Slowly and carefully. All the while, making sure he didn't look down. A chilling river with jagged rocks awaited him down below. The Ghost Engine followed along, keeping perfect track of him.
He could've sworn he felt the Ghost Engine trembling.
'It's okay,' He said. 'I won't let ya fall again.'
The trembling continued.
'I know this bridge is scary,' Duncan said. 'But it's all goin' ta be okay. I'm here. And we're gonna cross this bridge tagether. You and me. And we ain't gonna fall. I got a whole life ahead'a me! Ya think I wanna fall into a river taday? Or any day?'
The trembling, slowly, ceased. Duncan could feel an air of calm washing over him, as if he was feeling what the poor Ghost Engine was feeling. He started to pick up speed. The tug on his hook let him know that the Ghost Engine was still coupled up to him. It gave him the courage to speed up a little more.
Suddenly, the Ghost Engine blew its whistle again. It came out in a quick, frightened tone.
'Don't panic!' Duncan said. 'Like I said, we ain't gonna fall. I'll make sure of that.'
He did not stop. Not for anything. With each second, he got closer and closer to the spot where the poor Ghost Engine would dissipate, doomed to repeat the process over and over. That was the part that worried Duncan the most. After all of this, would the Ghost Engine simply fade away again? He didn't let it deter him. He just kept puffing.
Soon, they reached that dreaded spot. Duncan tried his best to maintain a brave face for the sake of the Ghost Train, but he knew his worry was written all over his smoke box.
He crossed the point.
And kept going.
The Ghost Engine didn't disappear.
Duncan smiled.
'Yes!' He cheered, quite unlike his usual self. 'This is the farthest ya've ever gotten. When was the last time ya reached this part of the bridge? Doesn't it feel good ta come this far?'
The Ghost Engine whistled joyfully.
'But we ain't done yet,' Duncan said. 'We've still got ta get back home!'
Now that he had passed that point, he wasn't feeling so scared anymore. No longer did he see the Ghost Engine as a terrifying spectre to fear and keep away from. It was a friend to him now. A friend who desperately needed his help.
'Don't think I'm gonna leave ya ta go the rest'a the way by yaself!' He said. 'I ain't quittin' 'til I get ya home.'
Another happy whistle. Duncan could hardly believe how happy he was to hear it.
'I'm gonna getcha home,' He said. 'I promise. I'm gonna get ya home.'
With every wheel turn he took, he reassured the poor Ghost Engine. Maybe that was the thing keeping it on the track. Maybe it was just the coupling. But it seemed to make the Ghost Engine happy.
Duncan's firebox ached for the engine. To think that it had been trying in desperation all these years just to get back home. He couldn't imagine what it'd be like to stuck away from home. Always seeing the other side but never reaching it. Trying to get home but never making it. The thought made him shudder almost as much as the ghost itself did.
'Ya're gonna get home,' He said. 'After all these years, ya're finally comin' home.'
The other engines waiting at the sheds were gossiping among themselves - mostly about Duncan - when they heard a familiar whistle. Duncan's whistle, of course. And it sounded very close by, getting louder and louder each time it was blown.
Sir Handel groaned. 'It's Duncan again.'
'Well, that was quick!' Peter Sam said, chuckling. 'So quick, you'd think he got scared and came puffing back!'
The engines laughed it up. It probably could've been heard from that silly bridge.
'Oh, that Duncan,' Skarloey said. 'He really believes that those fireflies are a ghost!'
'I can't believe him,' Rheneas said. 'He gets spooked once, and never wants anything to do with that bridge again.'
'I once had the bridge collapse under me, and I was still able to face it.'
'Well, that's Duncan for ya.'
Rusty was the only one who wasn't laughing along. They just rolled their eyes and sighed. In fact, they were starting to regret ever telling that ghost story in the first place. If they had known it would make Duncan act like this, they never would've said a word.
Eventually, they sighed. 'Oh for the love of Lord- Alright, when he gets back here, I'll pull the train myself.'
Right on time, everyone could see Duncan's train slowly turning around the corner. They saw the trucks he had been pulling before seeing Duncan himself, of course.
'There you are,' Rusty said. 'I should've known this would've happened. I'll have to-'
Duncan came around the corner too. And when he did, every other engine gasped.
'Ya see, Ghostie?' He said. 'I told ya I'd get ya back home, where ya belong.'
Imagine the shock on everyone's faces when they saw not just Duncan, but a whole bunch of fireflies in the distinct shape of an engine. A shape that was coupled up to Duncan and puffing along with them. An eerie yet cheerful whistle sounded through the silence of the night.
'O-Oh my!' Peter Sam cried. 'Is that… is it really…?'
'T-THE GHOST ENGINE!' Sir Handel shouted. 'EVERY ENGINE FOR THEMSELVES!'
With that, he zipped back into his shed and hid in its darkness, trembling so hard that you could hear the rattling from outside. The other engines, however, were too shocked to move. It really wasn't just a bunch of fireflies after all!
In the silence, Skarloey laughed.
'Well!' He said. 'I'll be!'
'Looks like Duncan was right all along!' Rheneas said.
Ordinarily, Duncan would've spent hours upon hours gloating about the fact that he was right, rubbing it in as much as he could until they all got sick of it (whereupon he'd gloat about it even more). But not tonight. He was barely paying attention to a word any of them were saying.
The Ghost Engine blew a grateful whistle.
'Hey, we ain't done yet,' Duncan said. 'How about we getcha back into a shed?'
Another cheerful whistle. Duncan could've sworn this one sounded like a very enthusiastic YES!
'Unfortunately,' Duncan said. 'It seems the sheds are a little full. If someone wouldnae mind-'
Rusty, despite their shock, gave him a smile. 'I'll gladly move.'
So they did, chugging out of their shed to give room to their newest guest. Duncan moved back and forth between the tracks, until he was standing right in front of Rusty's empty shed.
'This is it, Ghostie,' He said. 'Ya'll finally be back home.'
He couldn't be certain, but he was very sure he saw the Ghost Engine smiling back at him.
'T-Tell me w-when the g-ghost is gone…' Sir Handel murmured.
Peter Sam waited a few seconds before saying, 'Alright, Sir Handel, the spooky ghost is gone!'
'Is i-? AAAHHHH!' He grumbled. 'Oh, Peter Sam!'
Peter Sam's laughter could be heard all throughout the valley, travelling far and wide in the silence. Duncan ignored it. He ignored all the other engines. Slowly, wheel-turn by wheel-turn, he pushed the Ghost Engine into the empty shed.
'Just a li'l further,' He said. 'And ya'll be home.'
The other engines (except for Sir Handel) watched as Duncan shunted the Ghost Engine into the shed. And he didn't stop until it was right where it needed to be - in the warm, dry, safe confines. Exactly where it would've slept all those years ago, before its horrific accident.
'There,' Duncan said, giving the engine a soft smile. 'Ya're home, at last.'
The Ghost Engine did not respond with a whistle. It had simply gone silent. Duncan didn't mind; he figured the poor thing must've been so shocked over being home that it had been rendered speechless. For a moment, he started to worry that something had gone wrong. His worries were proven unfounded, however, when the Ghost Engine uncoupled itself from him.
It did not fade away.
Duncan reversed a few feet back to admire what he had done.
Then, something truly amazing happened.
Inside the firefly-lit silhouette, a more defined shape began to take form. Duncan gasped - in no time at all, he was looking at a face. A resin face just like every engine he knew, at the end of a smoke box. And the smoke box was attached to a black-painted engine. It was covered in pond scum and grime, but its nameplate was still legible: Dolgoch.
Duncan's jaw dropped. So did everyone else's.
The Ghost Engine- Dolgoch didn't say a word. Perhaps it couldn't. But it blew its whistle one last time, and Duncan could've sworn it sounded a lot like 'thank you'.
'Ya're welcome…' Duncan said.
Dolgoch once again started to fade away, like steam dissipating into the air. The fireflies scattered. Duncan gasped; straight away, he feared that all that hard work was for nothing. That Dolgoch would continue to be cursed to puff along the bridge, never making it back home.
But the fireflies flew up, into the sky and out of sight.
Dolgoch's cheerful whistle blew again, being carried away by a slight breeze in the air. The stars seemed to sparkle a little more.
'D… Dolgoch?' Duncan said, unsure what to think. 'W-What just happened?'
The steamies had no idea how to answer his question. But Rusty knew. They watched the fireflies leave with a smile on their face.
'You want to know what I think?' They said. 'I think you just helped a lost soul move on.'
'I… did?' Duncan asked.
'That poor engine never reached home, and he was stuck reliving his journey over and over. But then you came along, and helped him get back home. And now that he's finally finished his journey,' They looked up to the star once more. 'I think he could finally be at peace.'
Duncan looked up at the skies. And he smiled.
Peter Sam laughed. 'Why, Sir Handel, is that a tear I see in your eye?'
'N-No!' Sir Handel insisted, still refusing to move from his spot. 'Why could I - sniff! - cry over a stupid g-ghost finding peace?'
Skarloey and Rheneas couldn't help laughing at Sir Handel's expense too. Duncan would've joined in, but he couldn't. He was too busy smiling at the stars.
'Goodbye, Dolgoch,' He said. 'I hope ya find peace at last.'
'Awww!' Rusty said, making him jump. 'You really are a big softie on the inside.'
With that, Rusty went bright red.
'I- Wha- No I'm not!' He said. 'I just… needed ta clear the bridge so I could cross it. That was all!'
Rusty just rolled their eyes. 'I'm sure. Don't you have a load to deliver?'
'A load ta- OH! Right, the load. I remembered that. I just had somethin' I had ta take care of first. And now with that dealt with, I can cross the bridge.'
Somehow, he knew Rusty wasn't buying a single word he was saying. But he wasn't going to admit a thing. It was exactly the behaviour Rusty was expecting to see, and they wouldn't have their stubborn Scottish engine any other way.
Duncan continued with the job that had been assigned to him that night. He puffed along the tracks pulling his freight, deep into the night. But he did not tremble or shudder. He just kept puffing. In no time at all, he reached that fateful bridge.
Dolgoch was gone.
So was the eerie chill in the air.
Duncan stopped halfway across the bridge smiled up at the stars above. He blew his whistle again and continued down the line.
He could've sworn he heard Dolgoch whistle back.