Snowfair, or rather the barn at the Farm that had been left behind when the family went to Snowfair, had seen the start of it. It had started small, a pestilent whiff of wind in from the hidden hatch in the back of the workshop, a bit colder than it should have been. Contagion rode upon it, and first it was the dog, Bakersfield, that customarily slept underneath the Harvester, then the cows outside in the lot, then the housekeeper, Wilhelmina, who came home and diligent as ever, milked the old cow before going to bed. Then, the whole household came down with it when they had breakfast the next morning.
It came on as a series of sneezes, then tentacular growths sprouted from orifices, and then the farm's denizens stumbled about for several days ina fevered stupor,. almost as if heavily drugged, not knowing what they did, with whom, or why. Strange greenish light phenomenae flashed over the fields at night, and simian grunts echoed across the new-planted corn (?), while actinic arcs revealed momentary glimpses of iron behemoths that were as soon gone as they appeared.
At the end of it all, two weeks and a month later, a sinuously curvy run of railway track stretched to the edge of the jurisdiction of the next town, and all the way to the last Starbridge field before the road into Steamtown. A medium-sized locomotive that appeared to be part harvester, part locomotive and part clockwork contrivance (replete with revolving mirror running lights, two smokestacks and at least five headlamps, all trimmed in brass and polished steel against jet black iron carriagework, sat at the head of two red-brown passenger carriages and a mail/passenger combine.* smoke and steam swirled around the locomotive, and of all things an Inuit conductor in a smart blue threepiece suit uniform, and wheel cap walked around the engine while a similarly ethnic engineer and fireman tended the locomotive.
" 'woss al' 'is then?" The ChiefHired hand, Adelbert, mused inquiringly, a bit too loudly to be addressed only to himself. Moxon grumbled an unintelligible reply.
"It's danged I am if I know," Starbridge rumbled as he walked up. "Shall we take a ride and see? Can't be any weirder than it was when we was sick..."
And so it was that those who happened to be out of doors, and especially on the road outside of town, heard the raucous laboring of the engine and the melodious scream of the whistle, and the clang of the bell as they neared and then stopped at the road's edge. No station house, no platform, just the end of track and a timber bumper greeted the picturesque behemoth and it's bemused passengers.
"What now," said Wilhelmina, who had come along for the ride at the last instant.
"I smell coffee," Starbridge said, and headed for the door
"Looks like it is Jamoca time on Starbridge farm," mused Moxon.
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*Think the Hogwarts Express genetically crossed with the Robert E Lee; all gingerbread, brass and calliopes etc...
