The Journal of a Junior Station Master
Or
Stories from the Knockanure Railway
By
Rebecca Anna Coleman

Introduction

The middle-Lands is a name given to the middle section of Erehwon. Erehwon is a small island nation located in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. The island is a former colony of the United Kingdom. The Middle-Lands are very rural when compared to the Eastern and Western districts of Erehwon. There are no major ports in this region. And the main way of getting around or moving goods around is the railroad. The Somerset-Liverpool Railroad is the main railroad company of this region. And because of the rural nature many of the locomotives that work the line are powered by steam.

The stations on the line are often named the villages, or hamlets which they serve. I live in one such station, the station is named Knockanure. It was named by the many Irish who fled Ireland at the height of the Great Hunger. Many of these displaced Irish families settled here.

The village itself is a quiet, charming, rural village, with brown, square cobblestone paved streets, gas powered street lamps, and stone houses that sit on small, uniformed square plots of land that often face the roads. All of the houses have black, slat roofs and often feature brick chimneys.

The town is located in the bottom of Hemlock Valley, and is surrounded by small family owned farms, some of the farmers grow oats, corn or in some rare cases rice, while others sometimes focus on the raising of cows and bulls or sheep. Few of the roads leading to these isolated holds are paved with either cobblestone or brick and yet many of the old farmers depend on an old, wooden, steamed powered tram that normally pulls one old carriage, a few flat cars, and a break-van to get to town and to bring their goods to weekly farmers market.

I came to live here, not so much by choice, but by chance. My father's older brother is the station-master here in Knockanure. My father was recently promoted at work and part of that promotion was him having to move to far away Boston. Which is about a hundred and twenty sea-miles from Holy Head, the main port on the Western District of the Island. Being a former colony a lot of our towns, villages, hamlets, ports, and hamlets are named after places in the United Kingdom.

To put things into perspective, from Knockanure to Somerset which is the regional capital is around ninety minutes via the Daily Express. From there one would need to take a more main-line express train to Liverpool which is a small fishing town with limited access to the sea. From there they would need to take another train to Holy Head, the main port in the Western District that has direct access to America. From there one would take a steamer to Boston which is around one hundred twenty miles of open ocean. I've never been to the United States and I don't think I want to. Never been to the United Kingdom or Europe either. Only my great-great-grandfather traveled to Europe. He returned a changed man and missing a few toes. Anyway I've rambled enough.

I should tell you a little about the train station. The train station is a modest rural station as are most train stations in this region. I believe it was either built in the late Victorian or Edwardian periods. It has two platforms, one used for passenger service and general mail. And the other is used to ship and transport farm goods.
One can access the goods platform by walking across a concrete path that connects the two. Two sets of rails run through the station, the platform is an old concrete one and the station house is a modest brick two and a half story building. The lower half is the where the ticket booth, lobby and main office is located.

On the second floor one will find the living quarters of my aunt and uncle. And above that, one will find my room.

I guess the former station-master must have had a daughter or something because my room has powder blue walls that are trimmed with white, the floor is highly polished wood. I make a point in sweeping and mopping my floor at least once a week.

Quite a small number of furnishings were left behind. These things have passed to me, and while I'm certain there are not some items that belong in a boys bedroom, I feel that some years ago a girl decided that another girl might move in here and left some things she might need. And while I question myself, and try to figure out my own nature. While I wrestle with God in the quiet of the night. While I study the hidden currents of my heart. I sometimes can't help but wonder if the woman had the foresight to see how meaningful these items would be.

The first item on the list is a white iron wrought bed. It has delicate scrolled ironwork, is painted white, it came with a comfortable mattress and white sheets and a pastel colored blanket. It feels to me both sturdy and feminine – a classic piece from the Edwardian or Late Victorian period. Clearly beloved by the former owner's daughter. Rounding out the furnishings is a simple, white and pink vanity, a work desk, where I do my homework and my bookkeeping.

And finally a small balcony was attached to my room. I could access it by a sliding door. The only furnishing on the balcony was a small iron wrought table, and a simple iron wrought chair. The balcony was just big enough to fit the table and the chair and for me to be around a little. From the balcony I could see which trains were coming and going.

One last thing I would love to cover in this introduction. There is a small rail-yard to the right hand side of the station. It is a vine-work of sidings. It is always crowded with rolling stock and old break-vans. Beyond that is a marshland that is filled with tall reeds, the ground is always wet and moist and I believe in the deeper parts of the marsh one could find trout and eels. I've often seen dragon flies darting around the reeds early in the morning and at night I've seen balls of light, dancing around them.

Anyway that brings our introduction to an end.