According to the grapevine telegraph on Sodor, Mrs. Kyndley is rumored
to be loaded with cash, which she keeps stashed in a secret location. Apparently, not even old man Kyndley knows where it’s
hidden either. That’s why Thomas and Toby’s crews often stop by for a visit whenever they see her white handkerchief
a waving from the upstairs window. She imagines herself to be one “hot momma” to them; in reality, they just want
to be included in her will!
T’was nearing Christmas, and Thomas was overworked hauling passengers,
parcels and what-not on his line. He was having a tough time climbing the grade near the Kyndley cottage when he saw the telltale
hanky waving. “Hey boss,” Thomas shouted, “The old biddy wants us to stop for tea again!”
“Aww-Jeez no,” moaned the Fireman, “Not today! We’re
behind schedule!” The Driver’s thoughts however were not on being remembered in her will, but mindful of being
late. “We’re too busy!" he added, "Just give ‘er a toot, Thomas and carry on!” Thomas was relieved;
TFC always blamed the engines for everything anyway, from accidents to being late. The crews always got off scot-free. Besides,
it was raining pretty hard. “Toot” he did, and with that, Thomas and his goods continued to their destination.
*
Watching from her upstairs bedroom window, old lady Kyndley was mightily ticked-off when the train didn’t stop despite
her frantic hanky waving. As the brake-van was receding from sight, she flashed what could be aptly described as “half
a peace sign” at it. She slammed the window shut with a BANG! ; And hopped back into bed and picked up where she left
off reading “Dr. Atkins New Diet Revolution”. Reading the book only made her hungry, so she flung the book into
a corner, and began hatching a plan that was guaranteed to make Thomas stop tomorrow!
*
The next morning, Mrs. Kyndley
dolled herself up and dug through her closet to find the most enticing red dress she owned. It was a real struggle to put
it on, since the last time it fit was 2 diets ago. She paid no heed to the rain as she exited the cottage and made her way
down to the Branch Line. “They’re sure to stop once they see dressed like this,” she tittered, “No
man can resist my charm!? Well friends,” she waited for about an hour in the rain with no sign of a train. Then she
figured that if she went around the bend and climbed the cutting, she’d be able to see and hear Thomas coming from miles
away.
She was huffing and panting near the crest when she felt the muddy ground
give way beneath her. The constant rain over the past few days had undermined the hill’s stability. The old lady tumbled
helplessly down to the tracks along with a good portion of the hill.
”Oh bother!” she wailed, “My best
gown is RUINED!” And indeed she was a mess, covered in mud and bits of grass. She picked herself up and slowly made
her way back up to the cottage and vanished inside. A few minutes later, the upstairs window flung open, and the ruined red
gown was hung outside for the rain to wash off.
*
As luck would have it, Thomas' Train was approaching the cottage.
The Guard had earlier managed to sneak into Clarabel to do some “Christmas Shopping”. “Ah!” he said
while rifling through some parcels. "ERTL Thomas characters! - just wut I'se been lookin' for to give l'il Johnny this year!"
In another parcel, the Guard found a bottle of Scotch, which he held appreciatively at arm’s length. "Looks like contraband!..."
he said as he uncapped it, "Smells like contraband!" he took a deep swig. "Tastes good through!" he added as he wiped his
mouth. He placed the bottle in a convenient location for easy retrieval, while he continued to “shop” for the
rest of his family.
Up front, something in the distance caught the Fireman’s attention.
"Holee liftin?!” He exclaimed, "What the heck is that?!" pointing to the large sash of red flapping against cottage.
Thomas? Driver snuck a look. “I dunno!” he replied, “Looks
like James’ red balloon done crashed itself again!” The Fireman had a better look “Nah!” he added,
"It looks like a big red flag, we'd better check this out!" The Driver applied the brakes and the train came to a sudden halt
in front of the cottage. The Guard did not expect this, and the bottle of booze he was "inspecting" every once in a while
fell to the coach floor and shattered. He hurriedly gathered up the pieces of glass and unceremoniously rewrapped it in the
parcel paper. "That'll teach 'em not to insure the contents!" he slurred as he headed outside in the rain to see what interrupted
his holiday shopping.
Thomas’ Driver is a lazy bloke who likes to tell people what to
do, rather than exert himself physically. He also hates being exposed to inclement weather. “You go see if there’s
a doctor in the coach? he said to the Guard, ?Have him go up to the cottage to check on Mrs. Kyndley, then walk back to the
Station and tell them why we?ve stopped.”
Upon hearing this, the Guard became cross. The added effect of the
booze didn’t help either. The Fireman, not wishing to become the baloney in a fisticuff sandwich, disembarked from the
cab. “I errrrr, am just gonna walk up t’ line to make sure that everything’s clear.” The Guard mumbled
something about the Driver’s lineage, but only found a Veterinarian amongst the passengers.
It stopped
raining just as the Fireman returned. "Ya gotta see this! Ya gotta see this!" he said excitedly. The Driver obliged and followed
the Fireman around the bend. He saw the mess on the line, but could only think of old lady Kyndley up there alone with the
vet, "She might leave all her money to him in her will! He told the Fireman to return to the train, while he ran up to inside
the cottage and rushed upstairs, only to be greeted by a shocking sight!
The vet was holding a meowing cat over
Mrs. Kyndley and passing it from her head to her toes. While this was going on, a black Labrador was licking her feet. Mrs.
Kyndley opened one eye then the other. "Silly of me to faint." she said. "You saw my red dressing gown?"
"Yes, I've come
to thank you personally," he beamed. "Doctor, Mrs. Kyndley warned us of a landslide in the cutting and saved out lives."
"That's good to know." Replied the vet as he gave Mrs. Kyndley a milk
bone. "Mrs Kyndley is still in shock and is in a Terrible State. She'll be even more so once I give her the bill. I normally
only charge £15.00 for a checkup, but the 'cat scan' and 'lab test' raised it to £200.00. Mrs. Kyndley passed out again. "God
Bless You Ma'am" the Driver said, and tiptoed from the room with the Vet (and his medical equipment).
On Christmas
day, a special train pulled up in front of the cottage. Famous faces included Toby, Thomas, Annie and Clarabel along with
Henrietta and their respective crews. The unionized crews were more than happy to collect double pay for working on a statutory
holiday. The Fat Controller was there, along with many other people, all who were coincidentally male. They claimed that they
all wanted to say "Thank You" to Mrs. Kyndley, and were sporting nametags with their names in big bold type so that they'd
be remembered for the will. They all queued up along the worn path, and climbed towards the cottage.
Old man Kyndley met the procession at the door and barred their path.
"Oy! Wot business 'ave you with me missus?" he hissed "I knows ye all been sniffin' around 'ere while I's on the mainland!"
he added, his face becoming redder.
"Shoot!" Thomas' Fireman exclaimed, "We should'a known he'd be home for
the Holidays!" TFC merely brushed Kyndley aside and continued through the door with Thomas? Driver, Fireman and Guard. The
Guard was the last one inside, and he promptly closed the door and locked it before anyone else had the chance to come in,
including old man Kyndley.
"Unlock this door this instant! Ye bloody vandals!" he screamed as he
twisted the doorknob to no avail. "LET ME INTO MY HOUSE!" he shrieked while drumming on the door with his feet. "Eh? Wots
that you said mate?" snickered the Guard, "I CAN'T 'EAR YOU!" he added as he propped a kitchen chair against the door for
good measure.
Inside the house, there were cardboard boxes stacked to the ceiling from the kitchen to the living room,
with only a narrow passage to navigate through. The four men went directly upstairs.
Outside the cottage, the crowd realized that they too were locked out
along with old man Kyndley. Not being able to get back inside his own cottage, Mr. Kyndley instead channeled his aggression
towards those who immediately surrounded him.
"Get OFF Me Land! OFF wi' the lot of ye! YE CARNIE BUMS!" The men
immediately became incensed, not for being called "bums" but for being compared to carnies. One man expressed his gratitude
by picking up one of the many nearby lawn gnomes, and landed it squarely on top of old man Kyndley's head. And with that action,
and the inescapable law of physics that decrees that an equal and opposite reaction must follow, triggered the donnybrook.
Upstairs in the cottage, Thomas' Driver presented Mrs. Kyndley with a
new red dressing gown to replace the one spoilt by the rain. It was wrapped in 'Victoria Secrets' gift paper. "How lovely"
she gushed. "Are you sure it'll fit my petite frame?" she coyly added. "Madam," the Driver solemnly explained, "I specifically
instructed the sales clerk to choose the smallest size on the rack". In reality, his first impression upon seeing the dress
flapping from the window earlier triggered an idea. He hunted down the remnants of James' red balloon and had it sewn into
a dress at the 'Sodor Tent and Awning' factory.
The Guard brought her some grapes, and fed them directly to her from
the vine. The grapes were making "pop-pop-pop" noises in her mouth as she ate them. She did not seem to notice that they were
made of plastic. The Guard "found" them while 'shopping', inside a parcel that contained a gift bowl of fake fruit.
The Fireman gave her some wooly slippers - with built in gel insoles.
The fact that each slipper had a rat's tail betrayed their true origin. One is left with the distinct impression that these
'slippers' were recently flattened with a coal shovel. "Oh, they are soooooo comfortable and soft. And the gel insoles - how
thoughtful of you!" she exclaimed. The insoles were actually two tubes of toothpaste that the fireman slipped into the 'slippers'
at the last moment. "You are all very good to me," she said. "I'll always remember this!"
"Just remember our names, Ma'am,
especially mine!" oozed the Fireman.
The Fat Controller stood forward and began to speak, but sounded as if
his mouth was full of something, "Deuf paffenguhs and I hofe -*ahem*," he paused to drink water from a flower vase, then continued,
"You'll accept this health spa ticket on the South Coast. I hear that Richard Simmons will be making a personal appearance
with his "Sweat Away to the Oldies" Program - We can't thank you enough for preventing the insurance hikes and lawsuits that
an accident might've caused." Old lady Kyndley held the ticket to her nose and inhaled deeply. "Oh Mercy me! It's printed
on scented stationary too!" Closer inspection of the ticket would reveal that it was scrawled in crayon on the back of a "Mr.
Jolly" candy bar wrapper. The crayon was left lying on the floor in the corner where the Fat Controller previously stood.
Suddenly Mrs. Kyndley blurted out "Okay, I'm tired! This story is too long already - now get out of my house!"
The donnybrook was interrupted as if frozen in time when the door suddenly
opened and Thomas' Guard, Driver, Fireman and TFC exited. The Driver saw something sticking out of one of the broken lawn
gnomes. "Hey what's that?" he asked aloud "Why it's money!" blurted one of the mob. "Well I'll be!" exclaimed old man Kyndley
"She was hidin' the moolah in the gnomes all along!" he said as he reached for the wad of cash. A feeding frenzy began and
the action and noise level rivaled what you'd see at the seaside with seagulls and a box of spilled chips. The mob searched
the other gnomes for cash, and the gnomes that managed to survive the first melee were soon split asunder. Old man Kyndley
was having a fit, trying to pick up as much money as he could and shoving it down his shirt, screaming "It's mine! GIVE IT
BACK!", as he wrestled with one man who had a mouthful of dollars. TFC was filling his top hat, and the rest of the crew were
helping themselves to the treasure as well.
Suddenly a shrill whistle cut through the air grabbing everyone's attention.
In the doorway stood old lady Kyndley with her thumb and index finger in her mouth. "Now, now boys, help yerselves an' share
equally; and don't fret Ol' Man, there's no shortage of that around here!" Old man Kyndley looked bewildered and didn't notice
that the Guard had relieved him of his money.
"Now that you've found my secret stash", she continued, "You might as
well know the rest." She paused as the crowd gathered around her. "You know those cardboard boxes that are stacked in the
living room and kitchen to the ceiling?" Well back in '87, I knew a good thing when I saw it, and bought 20,000 copies of
the "Island of Sodor" book. I knew that it would be a hot an' rare item someday. I've been slowly auctioning them off one
by one on EBay over the years and makin' a bundle, even after paying off Egmont not to republish the book! And I've only sold
about fifty of 'em so far! So help yourselves to what's here, 'cause this baby has a lot more comin' her way! Merry Christmas
lads!" and blew them all a kiss and dragged her husband back into the cottage and shut the door.
The group all stood outside amidst the broken lawn gnomes beneath the
upstairs bedroom window. The Fat Controller led them all in singing a few bars from the 'North Atlantic Squadron' before the
happy bunch returned to the train to go home.
Epilogue:
Replacement lawn
gnomes were backordered for years by the stationmaster for Mrs. Kyndley and did not arrive until the "Percy and the Haunted
Mine" incident. Another mystery solved!
