Charlie was an ancient negro gentleman who lived in a shanty by the railroad track in Greensville, North Carolina. He had spent his life working for the railroad laying track all over the state, and when he retired he bought himself a small piece of land near the track and built his wood shanty there. He always greeted everyone with a friendly smile for, though he had been born shortly after the civil war and had experienced all the indignities of the segregated south, he bore no ill will toward anyone.
Charlie had a dog named Tender. The dog stayed with him for thirteen years until it died of old age. Charlie said the dog wasn’t really his. Tender just hung around because he wanted to and that was fine with Charlie. He never tried to put a collar or a rope around the dog’s neck. “I never would bother,” Charlie said, “Since he wouldn’t do what I told him no how. But if I wants him to do somethin’ I asks him, and if he wanta do it, he do it. An he know the difference too. When I tells him, he don’t do what I tells him, but if I asks him, most times he do.” It was an arrangment that suited both dog and man.
Tender, being an unusual name for a dog, caused many people to ask why Charlie had named him that; Charlie explained that when he had worked on the railroad he had worked a lot on a tender which was a small car attached to a steam locomotive that carried wood or coal to fuel the locomotive, and that it just sorta hung on behind which was what Tender the dog did, so Charlie called him Tender. Charlie would always go on to tell the listener that working on the tender had been some of the best times in his life.
Tender had one bad habit. He liked to chase the trains as they rolled by. Charlie asked him not to do that because he was afraid the dog might get caught under the wheels and crushed, but Tender ignored that request and kept chasing trains his whole life. He had a special knack of knowing when the train was coming even before it came into sight. Maybe it was the vibrations in the ground or the position of the sun in the sky. Charlie never did figure out how the dog knew, be he always did. When Tender was young he would chase the trains for miles, but toward the end of his life the dog didn’t really chase them anymore. He would sit beside the track and when a train came along he would stand and take a few steps, but then give up and sit down again. Later he would just sit and watch the trains pass and fade into the distance as though he still wanted to chase them, but just didn’t have the energy anymore.
After Tender died Charlie didn’t hang around long, as though Tender’s death had soured the shanty for him. One day he walked out onto the track, looked up and down then began walking. No one knows if he walked fifty miles or five hundred but he never came back to the shanty by the tracks, but the one thing everybody knew was that Charlie and Tender loved trains.
G. Lloyd Helm is the author of the Science Fiction novel DESIGN and the fantasy novel OTHER DOORS. He is also the publisher of the Antelope Valley Anthologies, which are gatherings of poetry, essays, and short stories from local Antelope Valley Authors. These books are available from www.mouseprintspublishing.com.
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15 Responses to “TENDER • by G. Lloyd Helm”
Comments
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July 1st, 2009 at 3:03 am
Sorry Mr Helm, I don’t know if I should address you as Lloyd or G, hope you don’t mind my formality? I loved this good old fashioned story, told the way stories used to be. Nothing at all wrong with ‘telling’ when it’s done like this. When you have used dialogue it feels spot on. Only one point that jarred for me was your use of ‘too’ as opposed to ‘to’, which I would have thought was correct in this context. Not saying you’re wrong, simply that – although we all use that expression in conversation – I’ve never seen it written down like that. Opinions, people. Still one great little story, whatever.
July 1st, 2009 at 4:45 am
Engaging and mellifluous. “Tender” captured in a flash.
July 1st, 2009 at 5:48 am
As Oscar noted, it is unusual to see stories presented in this “telling” form and it isn’t a style easy to pull off (or get away with). A convention that might assuage the disapproving reader might be to have this told through a character’s POV.
The last line rang a little hollow for me. It is clear the dog has a certain affinity for trains, but Charlie’s feelings are never made clear. He worked for the railroad, but did he love trains? His strongest characteristic is that he is unfailingly polite and held no ill will in his heart. In any case, what did his affection for trains have to do with his leaving? Perhaps I’m missing the point.
Living in NC, I know where Greenville is but not Greensville. Double checked the map and couldn’t find it.
Best,
–John
July 1st, 2009 at 6:34 am
Nice little “slice-of-life,” well written, but I don’t see much “story” in there. Nothing much happens. The dog gets older and dies, yeah, but that’s what we would expect. Then Charlie leaves … why? Not clearly explained.
Oh, I tripped over the too-to thing also, edit!
July 1st, 2009 at 7:07 am
Very beautifully written. I like the convincing dialect. I suppose the open-ended questions are supposed to be there, but I kept searching for answers regarding the pop-into-the-story by both Charlie and Tender together, like a grouped apparition. Did Charlie have the dog before he retired, explaining the dog’s interest in trains? Or is Tender some sort of mysterious alter ego of Charlie’s ? Only the writer could explain. Did Charlie build the shanty expressly to please Tender, since he left it at Tender’s death? The story is admirably and expertly written, but I wish I had a stronger tie-in to what was happening at whatever level it was happening on.
July 1st, 2009 at 7:48 am
This is a ‘nice’ story–not too many of those around any more. I think you get to know Charlie really well in this short piece and his intense love for Tender. I don’t think other details matter much. This is just a story of a man without much, who had a ‘friend’ in the form of a pet, briefly share his life. Not a whole lot of ’story’ here maybe, but still, it makes you feel good once you’ve read it. Well done.
July 1st, 2009 at 9:54 am
This story had the ‘feel’ of some of Mark Twain’s short stories, and that is a compliment. The only criticisms I see have already been spoken, but over all a sweet little piece. Keep up the good work.
July 1st, 2009 at 10:24 am
Despite the early typos of ‘the the State’ and utilizing ‘too’ instead of ‘to’, you held my attention well up until paragraph three and then I was distracted. Charlie was introduced as ‘working for the railroad laying track all over the state’. In chapter three he was talking about all the time he’d spent running the Tender. Those are two different railroad jobs.
By the time Tender was chasing trains I was losing interest. You should probably not have told the reader that the dog died in his introduction. That revealed where the story was going before it got there.
The finish with Charlie wandering off down the tracks was a good, strong ending. However, I’m afraid your prose unraveled somewhat at the finish. A 35 word sentence with two ‘but’ s and multiple subject matters just needs to be split.
July 1st, 2009 at 11:11 am
A nice start that could use some tightening. Agree with Jim Hartley – we don’t really know that Charlie loved trains until we are told that in the last sentence. Kind of a non-sequitor that spoils the whole.
July 1st, 2009 at 12:56 pm
Please excuse the typos, this tired editor has a one-month-old baby. They have now been corrected.
July 1st, 2009 at 3:48 pm
I suppose I’m one of the few who figured out from the context that Charlie loved trains. I really liked this vignette. It reminded me of the stories I enjoyed as a young girl.
July 1st, 2009 at 9:47 pm
One of the best shorts I’ve read here since “Wing Mending.”
July 2nd, 2009 at 12:23 pm
[...] At WotC: “MM2 Creature Competition Wallpapers“(Flash) At Every Day Fiction: “Tender” by G. Lloyd Helm.(Flash) At Everyday Weirdness: “A Blood-Spattered Letter from Mr. [...]
July 2nd, 2009 at 5:52 pm
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Thank you.
July 3rd, 2009 at 11:48 pm
A good story. Felt like I was listening at my grandma’s knee.