Old Tommy.

[Kitosdad]

I want to tell you now about an old friend of mine. His name was Tommy and he worked for his whole life on the railways.

When the railways began to streamline themselves many men were asked to leave, but no- one had the heart to tell Tommy that he was " surplus to requirements."
He had been such a loyal servant to the company and he wouldn't have known what to do with himself if he didn't have his job.

You see, old Tommy had no wife or family, and his only friends were those men with whom he worked on the railways.
The boss called him into the office and told him that he was being given a very important job. He was to man the signal cabin on what used to be the main line, but now was the line was used only once in a while by the new trains, and it's main purpose was for shunting wagons from track to track.

The boss emphasised the importance of this job, but Tommy knew that he was only being kind and trying not to hurt his feelings, but he gladly accepted his new role.
Without the railways his life was nothing!.

I'd gotten to know Tommy many years ago when, as a little boy, I came with my Father to collect train numbers. He was a very friendly man and he let me talk to the other railwaymen when they had their lunches.
As I became older he fired my imagination with stories about the railways, and the things that he had done and seen in his work. His tales were so awe-inspiring that I found myself being drawn into joining the rail-road too when I left school.

My job on the railway was interesting and enjoyable, but I saw very little of Tommy, and even less after the modernisation plan was put into place. I missed our talks, and so I got into the habit of going to see him in his signal-box whenever I had any spare time.
He always welcomed me and we shared many stories and jokes. The time just seemed to fly whenever I was in his company. He was so entertaining.

One evening we were sitting having a cup of tea when Tommy surprised me by saying I would have to finish my tea quickly as he was expecting company.
I was taken aback at this, for as far as I was aware, Tommy had no friends.
When I tentatively enquired just as to who this friend was he coloured slightly and said it was his girl-friend.
You could have knocked me down with a feather.
He told me he had met her just shortly after having taken this job in the old signal box, and she came to visit him every evening. It was obvious from his demeanour that he was in love with this woman, whoever she was.
My only hope was that he wasn't being fooled by some woman who was only after his money.

I continued to visit Tommy but never once did I have the opportunity to meet this mystery woman, so I asked around town if anyone else had ever met her.
My enquiries were met with gales of laughter by everyone.
They were all of the opinion that Tommy was going a little bit silly in the head in his old age,saying that he had never in his life had a girl-friend, but I wasn't convinced.
He'd sounded so sincere.

The next time we met I brought the conversation around to discussing this woman, and finally managed to learn that her name was Jenny. That was all he was inclined to tell me, and he said that she was so shy that she would never agree to meeting anyone else.
This really had me agreeing with the townsfolk ... old Tommy was losing his mind.

Two more years passed and I was still visiting him regularly, until one night he didn't respond to my knock on the signal-box door. I knew he was here because his bicycle was leaning against the stairs of the signal-box. I found a ladder in the adjacent cabin and climbed up to look through the window.

Tommy was lying on the floor and it was obvious that he was dead. The railway police came and forced open the door of the signal box and we all trooped into the small room. There was no doubt that he was dead, but on his face was a blissful smile, or maybe I was simply imagining that.

The ambulance arrived and his body was taken away to the morgue.
My feelings at his passing were more disturbing than I thought they would be, and I took it upon myself to make the funeral arrangements, as I knew there was nobody else to attend to it.

The day of the funeral it was raining heavily. No-one else other than myself turned up for the burial. I pretended to myself that it was because of the rain, but it was obvious that no-one else really cared that much about Tommy. I was happy that at least Tommy would not be buried unobserved.

The priest began the prayer and Tommy's coffin was lowered slowly toward the damp earth.
When it was laid to rest the vicar left me alone to say my parting words to my old friend.

As I was doing so I suddenly became aware of a young woman who came to stand beside me.
She had a shawl around her head, but even partially covered I could see that she was a beautiful young woman.
I was taken aback at her sorrowful face and I gently asked if she had known Tommy. She said that she had known Tommy very well, and then she shocked me even further by saying that her name was Jenny.

The very next day I went to the manager's office and requested Tommy's old job. He was very surprised that a young man should want such a poorly paid job, but when I explained that I too had no wife or family and that the wage was sufficient for my needs he reluctantly agreed that I could have the position.

So,here I am in the old signal-box doing Tommy's old job. It is certainly a very lonely job, except in the evenings, when my Jenny comes to visit me.............
_________________
If you need me, I'm here.

[Honey2]

old tommy
is agood story

we take the usefullnes from it

thank u

i wait for another
_________________
live quite life

[SkiIucK]

Bows.

[Gray]

I wouldn't say that I got the mystery here
Why would Jenny (an young woman) fall for old Tommy? (I am just curious)

But the latter part (you joining the signal box job) is a sheer intelligence
_________________
First lesson - English, not english. I, not i. ~A student of English

[Kitosdad]

Gray, the theme of the story eludes you my friend.

Jenny is a figment of their imaginations.......A ghost.

OK?

Kitos.
_________________
If you need me, I'm here.

[Gray]

[Kitosdad]

Good that you got it mate.

OK, latest story about to unfold ...... short and sweet.

Title, " The Bomber."

Enjoy. (I hope.)

Kitos.
_________________
If you need me, I'm here.

[Gray]

[Kitosdad]

Gray, we all have the ability to write a story. It only becomes a real challenge when someone throws a theme at you from out of the blue. (Try it.)

That is the moment that your imagination is really taxed.

The stories that I am churning out have been in my mind, subconsciously, for a long time I would think, although I'm not certain about that. Only by concentrating am I able to bring them to the fore and embellish them.

I do feel that you ought to give it a try. Let loose your imagination and amuse yourself. Then post it and allow us to share your amusement.

Kitos.
_________________
If you need me, I'm here.

[Gray]

Your words have always been an inspiration for all of us. I would certainly try to sketch out something.
_________________
First lesson - English, not english. I, not i. ~A student of English

[Kitosdad]

Gray, I have the feeling that you are itching to get going on a story. There are oh so many story-lines that you could pursue. I've been working on one for an hour or so. Would you like to join in and try to finish it off?.

I'll post it as a new topic entitled My brother David, pick it up if you will.............

Kitos.
_________________
If you need me, I'm here.

[Gray]

I couldn't find "My brother David". I will try if I see any opportunity for me to slip in.
_________________
First lesson - English, not english. I, not i. ~A student of English

[Kitosdad]

It is on the board now.
_________________
If you need me, I'm here.