The island of Sodor has many beautiful places. There are fields of green, white sandy beaches, and cozy villages. All the engines love passing through picturesque landscape.

There is one place, however, that the engines avoid: the Smelter's. The air seemed to grow cold as the sound of snorting machines whirred all round. Worst of all, the lineside was littered with rows of rusted cars, trucks, and engines.

The Smelter's were run by two menacing diesels: Arry and Bert. They take great pleasure in their work, and never miss a chance to taunt the engines.

"Don't get too close to the Cutter's torch, or else they might just cut you up on sight," they'd laugh.

The engines knew The Fat Controller would never scrap them; but all the same, Arry and Bert's teasing chilled them to the boiler.

One cold night, the diesels were idling outside the Smelter's Shed. They had finished their work and were ready to go home. A low mist hung over the Yard, and the echo's of the smelting machines danced in the air.

"Another good days work behind us, aye?" rumbled Arry.

"Couldn't be better," oozed Bert.

Their conversation was interrupted by a familiar horn. Derek emerged from the mist; a line of trucks groaning behind him.

"Hello," greeted Arry. "What can we do for you?"

"Good evening, chaps," smiled Derek. "Special delivery for you. I've been clearing out an old mine, you see. Plenty of rusted equipment well past it's prime sure to keep you busy."

"And that?" asked Bert. He motioned to the flatbed behind Derek. On it stood a small, rusty steam engine. It's cab and bunker had deteriorated so much, they could see it's corroding controls and firebox door.

"Well, well, well," smirked Arry. "This is my kind of surprise."

"They found it tangled in the weeds; must have been left behind. The poor thing," sighed Derek. "No engine wants to be forgotten."

"Oh, don't you fret," said Arry. "We'll take very good care of it, won't we? I'll show you to the fuel pump. Bert, move that old rust bucket into the Shed."

Bert didn't like being bossed round, but he complied as Arry and Derek rolled away. He grumpily dragged the heavy flatbed into the glow of the Smelter's Shed.

"Stupid Arry," he growled. "He could've just brought this rubbish here."

As he rolled along, the old steam engine creaked and groaned. It almost sounded like laughter.

Bert pulled it into place, and then rolled alongside.

"Who's got the last laugh now?" he sneered. "Useless old kettle."

"Is that all I am to you?" For the first time, he saw the front of the old engine. It's face was smudged and dirty, and it's eyes weary.

"I'm… I'm far from useless," wheezed the engine.

"Pah!" snorted Arry. "Another steamer in denial. You're past it. Diesels are the way forward; there's no need for you now."

"And what happens when you become outdated?"

"Never going to happen," replied Arry.

"I used to be just like you," sighed the engine. "I came to the little Railway, thinking I was the best engine on the line. My cockiness only landed me in that mine. Never learned, did I? Got myself into an accident, you see, and I was so sure they'd mend me…"

"Look at me now. I thought I was invincible, but along came better more modern engines. I got a taste of my own medicine." She stared coldly at Bert. "You are modern, but for how long? What will happen to you when a more efficient engine is built?"

"That will… that will never happen," Bert spluttered.

"Deny it all you want," replied the engine, "but I stand before you as proof of it. Time will go on, and you will be replaced."

Bert was silent. The words sent chills through his frames.

"Perhaps," continued the engine, "you should show more kindness to towards engines at their end. We've done our fair share of work. We just want to… want to go in peace without your mockery and sneering. Now go… Go. I'd like to revel in some of that peace I'm deserving of."

Bert said nothing. He was deeply affected by the engines words, but didn't want to show it. He continued to sneer as he rolled out of the Smelter's Shed.

Arry was waiting for him. Derek had gone and the fog was beginning to lift.

"Where have you been?" Arry growled. "Who were you talking to in there?"

"Oh, it was a stupid old steamer," barked Bert. "Trying to tell me we'll be out of date one day."

Arry stared blankly. "How… how did you talk with it?"

Bert looked back. As the doors of the Smelter's Shed began to close, he saw no face on the engine. Rusted boiler tubes snaked from the smokebox. Bert was in disbelief. The Shed door shut with an unsettling thud.

"All that exhaust has got to you," Arry cackled.

"Oh, shut up!" snapped Bert. He rolled off to their Shed without another word.

Bert is a different engine now. While still menacing, he no longer taunts the steam engines with threats of scrap. He is still silent whenever he goes into the Smelter Shed, for he is thinking of that spectral old engine. Every shadow, every noise reminds him of that night. I think the engine's words will follow Bert for a long time. Don't you?