Part Three: Off the rails

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I was ordered not to ask about the cargo, of course, because this is information just for the authorities. Oh yes, of course, of course. I can play along.

"That's right, trainy. Choo, choo," I say, chuckling.

We trundle along like the best of friends. Little lonely wolfie will be jealous of trainy, oh yes! We've been driving for about an hour when I hear a noise. It's the tractor again!

"Tractor, tractor! What are you doing here? This cargo is secret! Hush, hush!"

How on earth did tractor get in here? Clever, sneaky tractor! I would go and scold him but I cannot stop the train. I sigh and lean back in my seat. Stupid train. On and on, following the track, boring boring boring. Choo, choo, choo.

But wait – I am the one commanding this train! Of course, of course! I can steer it! Off the tracks! On an adventure, of course! I simply cannot let trainy be confined to these rails. I do something to levers and buttons until there's a screechy noise that makes my ears hurt. But I cannot cover them, of course, because my only hand is occupied! I giggle because of what a sneaky, naughty act I am committing! Oh, if only mother found out! What a scolding, of course, of course! Sneaky sneaky! I giggle again, singing a song my mother taught me about trains when I was but a baby.

"Come on now, trainy, off the rails! Choo, choo, oh yes!" I coax the train. It groans and screams in protest and there's a terrible jolt that sends me flying across the cabin. It's so outrageously funny that I burst out giggling, spread-eagled on the floor of the cabin with a shard of glass in my cheek and a chunk of metal in my thigh. What a funny sensation! Ouch, ouch, OUCH! Bloody, bloody. I wave my arms like an upturned beetle.

"Look, mother! I'm you! Lazy, lazy, never moving, never doing! Help me, oh help me please!" I giggle, even though it's bad to say bad things about mother, of course, of course! Oh, what a beating she would grant me! Hee, hee! I simply must clean up all this red paint before she sees. How did it ever get here? I am not a decorator, oh no! Never have been! I have such sloppy hands – well, only hand now, I suppose! Hee, hee!

What a mess! I look around the small space and gasp in shock. There's glass everywhere! On the seat, which is now face-down near my feet, as if it cannot bear to look at the sight. On the floor. On the control panel. The windscreen is completely shattered! Whoops! I giggle.

"What a nuisance I am! Silly, silly me!" I say, shaking my head. Mother will not approve! The roof is even caved in. Wow! What a beautiful shape! I must remember it so I can describe it to mother. Then – out of all this – there's a noise.

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