Faces in Moonbeams

I loved her from the moment she joined the crew. Of course, I dared not show it. Not to her, or anyone else who toiled from the time our masters awaken us until we are shoved back in our boxes for the night. Cheerfulness was tolerated. Anything more was inefficient and disallowed.

She was the most beautiful creature I had ever seen. When I first saw her, her body was rounded and fit; not yet marred by the stress our labors puts on us. Her face was beaming; an inner strength radiated confidence, even though she had to know the monotonous life awaiting her.

Our encounters were equally dull and uninspired. Never permitted to come closer than a yard, we were allowed time for a quick hello, light banter and perhaps a comment on the weather as we stopped briefly in going about our tasks, before being urged to continue. When we were part of a congregation, only chatter about work and duties happened. Anything outside of that led to ridicule from the others and the masters, should they learn of it.

I needed to tell her. Tell her I loved her, every inch of her and yearned to be with her. I've heard forbidden love is the most intense and painful, because neither party causes the barriers set upon them. At least, I think it was like that. In my deepest recesses, I imagined she felt similarly about me. The way she greeted me, and the way her eyes locked with mine, made me shiver throughout.

I hoped she felt the same about me.

It took nearly a year, but my opportunity came, and I was resolved to act upon it. An unexpected storm cut the power to the machine shed, and workers there were relocated to other locations as parts were requisitioned to repair the damage. It would be unoccupied for few nights. My spirits flew and my mind was racing as I considered my plan, agonizing each detail. I would only have one shot at this. If either of us were caught, I could not imagine the danger that would befall us.

At dawn, I was taken out to start my labor. If all went to plan, I had three chances to see my love and pass my message quickly. Our windows of time were narrow for me to pass the message about meeting.

The first one was a complete miss. I was held up by storm damage from my morning chores; I saw her moving away in the distance as I approached. My next opportunity was in a few hours. My mind wandered and it was noticed. I was chided for nearly making an error.

The next time I saw her, she was standing, waiting to move. The controller signaled and her master urged her on. I sighed, as I was held short until she moved on. One more chance remained. My mind raced and a feeling of dread filled me. I had to speak to her!

The next time, our routes would bring us face to face briefly before passing. Things looked good. I was on time, and could see her approaching. If all went correctly, we would stop briefly before continuing. We smiled at each other upon closing in. But then I realized she wasn't stopping. Panic set in!

I had to think quickly. I tried to slow up, so that we would have the moment I needed to pass my message. How I hoped she would hear it and meet me! I slowed more, and my master yelled something at me. My eyes were locked on hers. Her eyes were wide, seeing that something was not right.

Finally, we were close enough. I passed my message to her, quickly and prayed she heard. I eventually came to a halt, my master asking me why I slowed so early. I didn't notice. All I could do was think of tonight.

Tonight couldn't arrive fast enough. At the appointed time, I slowly and carefully left my berth and crept over to the abandoned machine shed. None of my fellow workers were aware. The moon was almost obscured by clouds. My luck continued.

I arrived at the shop, and backed in, so I could see if I was spotted. I childishly hid in the recesses and patiently waited. The night sky brightened as the moon became uncovered. The faint glow in the windows could have been enough to reveal me.

An hour passed and eager waiting changed to concern, then despair. Something was wrong. Did she not understand my message? Did I misinterpret her body language- the glances, the smiles and pleasant greetings?

Horror! Perhaps she was seeing another! The ridicule would be unbearable. I began to shake at the punishment, the taunting and laughter I'd face...

What was that noise? Was it her?

A figure entered the shed, silhouetted by the moonlight. Was it...?

"Emily?" I asked uneasily.

She glided forward, and I could see her face in the moonbeam.

"Thomas," she replied, and rolled slowly forward until our buffers met and compressed in our embrace.

Unbeknownst to us, a heavyset man with a tall hat stood on a box outside a window, peering in. He smiled in the darkness.

"It's about time," he said. "Why did it take so long...?"

Afterword

The concept for this story came to me in a flash one night in late May of 2013, as I was enjoying a sushi dinner out by myself – my son was with his favorite sitter, and his mother was away. I had been thinking about my son's obsession with trains, and reflecting about how much I learned about Thomas the Tank Engine in the last year and a half.

I began to wonder about... things. We anthropomorphize animals and objects often for the entertainment and education of our kids (Thomas, Snoopy, Garfield, Hobbes), but real life issues, such as sex, drugs and relationships are not addressed (except in Bloom County).

Obviously, two engines don't couple (pun intended) and produce mechanical offspring, but if they are meant to be happy, sad, excited, angry, proud and demoralized, why not in need of non-platonic love? It's just not fair to have them miss out on the experience, and it was in interesting first look exercise for me.

So, I took the iPad I had with me, switched from surfing Facebook and fired up Pages, and a few rolls of Spicy Tuna, Philadelphia, and the special house roll later, I pretty much conjured what you just endured, I mean, read.

This is a noncommercial, transformative work of fanfiction.  Copyright 2013 & 2021 D. Graham Cruickshank. All Rights Reserved.