1The old countryside station smelled of clover and coal smoke. In the last golden light, Thomas puffed up to the platform and Percy rolled in quietly behind him.
2"Look, Percy!" Thomas said, his round eyes wide and bright. "The platform lanterns are switching on!"
3Thomas could not wait. "The next one will be the far lamp — no, the near one — no, I am certain it is the far one!" He rocked excitedly on his wheels.
4Percy said nothing. He simply watched. His wide eyes moved slowly — near lamp, far lamp, near lamp, far lamp — following the pattern like a steady beat.
5Thomas went still. A lantern glowed near, then far. Near. Far. Near. Far. The pattern was there, steady and unhurried, like breathing.
6"Oh," Thomas said, very quietly. His eyes grew soft.
7Thomas traced the pattern in his mind: near, far, near, far — and the last lit lamp had been the near one.
8"Far," Thomas said. He did not shout it. He said it almost to himself, as a question becoming an answer.
9The final far lantern woke in warm gold. Percy smiled his wide, cheerful smile.
10Thomas smiled too. The two engines sat together on the rails, watching the glow settle over the clover-scented evening, neither one in any hurry to leave.
