Uncle Herbert had come to deliver it personally, in a banana-yellow Tesla so insanely sleek and tricked-out it looked like one of Tom’s Hot Wheels. He was fat, with thinning brown hair and a round, mild-mannered face. He looked like a history teacher, or somebody who might take tickets at an amusement park. He wore shiny blue leather shoes and a banana-yellow suit that perfectly matched his car.

Kate and Tom came running out to stare at the train. Kate had lots of straight brown hair cut to the length of her chin and a sharp little nose that gave her a slightly princessy look, though she wasn’t really especially princessy. Tom’s hair was short and blond and tufty, like a guinea pig that just woke up, but he had that same nose, which on him looked princely instead.

She was so surprised she couldn’t think of anything to say.

“That is a really big train” was all she came up with. It would have to do.

“It’s not a whole train,” Uncle Herbert said modestly. “Just the engine. And a tender—that’s the coal car right behind it.”

“How much does it weigh?” Tom asked.

“One hundred tons,” Uncle Herbert said crisply.

“What, exactly?” Kate said. “Like, it literally weighs exactly one hundred tons?”

“Well, no,” Uncle Herbert said. “It weighs a hundred and two tons. A hundred and two point three six. You’re right to be suspicious of overly round numbers.”

“I thought so,” said Kate, who was.

You really don’t appreciate how incredibly colossal a steam locomotive is till one shows up parked on the street in front of your house. This one was about fifteen feet high and fifty feet long, and it had a headlight and a smokestack and a bell and a whole lot of pipes and pistons and rods and valve handles on it. The wheels alone were twice her height.

Kate’s father came out of the house too. In fact most of the people on their street came out to look at the train. He put his hands on his hips.

“Herbert,” he said. “What the blazes is this?”

He didn’t really say blazes, but you can’t put the word he did say in a book for children.

“It’s a train,” Uncle Herbert said. “A steam train.”

“I can see that, but what’s it doing here? On a truck? So very close to my house?”

“It’s a present for Kate. And Tom, I guess, if she wants to share.” He turned to Kate and Tom. “Sharing is important.”

Uncle Herbert definitely didn’t have much experience with kids.

“Well, it’s a nice gesture,” Kate’s father said, rubbing his chin. “But couldn’t you have just sent her a toy?”

“It is a toy!”

“Well, no, Herbert, that’s not a toy. That’s a real train.”