The Island's Swansong

XIV - Feeling Blue

With my belongings gathered up, I poured my confusion over the map that remained laid out in front of me. My faith in it was gone, replaced by frustration. It was next to useless. I wanted to tear it up, but knew I'd come to regret it. In terms of forming a plan to leave Sodor, it was no help at all.

Following the main line back east was out of the question, given the precarious condition of many of the bridges. Following the roads was the next best option, but would take me days. Exhaustion was my main worry, and the quickest route bypassed almost every major town, meaning scrounging food would be very laborious, if I could even find any.

The 'easiest', maybe laziest, option was to stroll down to Brendam. If I could find a working, motorised boat (big 'if'), I could sail east to back to Kirk Ronan on the next headland. I could then follow the main line without needing to cross the Big Dipper. But I also contemplated pushing on to the West Coast. If I could source a boat at Knapford or Arlesburgh Harbour, I could make a break for the Isle of Man, and recuperate there before catching a ferry back to England. If Brendam was a bust, I would've wasted another day.

It was the fluttering of a nearby pigeon that gave me an idea. A bird's eye view was what I needed. If I could see Brendam from here, I could hatch a more informed plan.

I scaled the church's tower. My footsteps clopped up the stone staircase with more reverb than a classic rock festival. At the top, most of the boards covering the windows had been blasted off by winds, giving me a high-rise view of Sodor. With the elevation gradient of Suddery's peninsula sloping downward towards the South, nothing obstructed my view.

What caught my attention first, being closest and most detailed, was the remains of Suddery castle. Time and nature had eaten it away, with the highest remaining wall standing a good third shorter than what I recalled from the show. Tracing the railway line as it stretched farther away, I saw the ruined layout of an animal park, whose shrubbery and foliage had reclaimed much of the space that had once laid outside the enclosures. The whole park was wild and could have been missed by more careless eyes. Lichen greened the white of the zebra-striped fence (where paint was still visible).

Brendam was just about visible some half a dozen miles down the line. Instead of the grey and brown assortment of dockside and brick buildings I'd expected, the area came off as distinctly blue. Straining my gaze, it twigged that the sea had risen to claim the docks as its own. A couple of structures could be made out, sitting in seawater a metre or so deep, just deep enough to hide any evidence of railway lines below the surface. The Sodor Shipping Co. warehouse stood out, the largest man-made structure on site. A duo of cranes sat to the left of the warehouse. One had toppled into the water, and the other leant with a slant that would make the Leaning Tower of Piza jealous. One, I surmised, was likely the real-life Cranky. But without a boat, the docks would be too tricky and dangerous to explore.

I shut my eyes, slumping into the dark recesses of the church tower. I was arrogant to think Sodor was going to bring anything but disappointment. For so many years, an image had been etched into my mind, bleeding into expectation. Now the image bled, but in sorrow and pain. One can try and salvage a shattered world, but would only cut their hands on all the pieces.

I dragged myself up and back down the stairway. With a plan decided, I shoved the map into my bag. I'd head up to Wellsworth, then continue through to Knapford, in the hope of finding a boat to sail to the Isle of Man. The west coast of Sodor had at least four maritime ports, so my best chances laid in that direction.

After retrieving my bag, I stepped back out, tracing the Suddery streets until I found the railway lines. Stepping onto the crunching ballast, whose crunchy song was remixed with squelching after the heavy downpours, I began my solemn trudge up the line. Suddery was behind me, but not the things I'd seen and done. Karma had collected on all my good luck.