Somebody is Calling My Name

By j.i.m. lord

What if there was a man in this world,
could be a neighbor, an acquaintance, a complete stranger, that possessed the formula to cure all forms of blood disease but was incapable of healing himself? Believe it or not, he does exist, yet it is up to us, you and I, to find him. Or if one is blessed, or just lucky, perhaps he will find you!
Thus, this is the story of one Cosgral "Cos" Rodiack.

  
What if there was a woman in this world, could be a neighbor, an acquaintance, a complete stranger, that possessed the template to remedy those incapable of healing themselves? Believe it, she exists, yet it is up to this Cosgral Rodiack to find her, or if he is blessed, or just lucky, perhaps she will find him!
Thus, this is also the story of one Rhonda...Rhonda View...

• Language: English
• Publisher: j.i.m. lord
• Release date: Jan 5, 2016
• ISBN: 9781483522388

j.i.m. lord

J.I.M. Lord is the father of three and grandfather of three, of which the three grandkids have been adopted by Jim and his wife Emily after the death of their daughter. Jim & family live in Oklahoma and are on a first-name-basis with the ins and outs of food stamps, WIC, government housing, and the struggles to make ends meet by frequenting garage sales and re-selling those "gems" on Ebay...thus the lead character's name in "Finding My Way Back Home:"  JOBE!  Look for Jim's novels "Grandparents: Purpose" & "Grandparents: It Don't Come Easy" , memoirs of life in the "starting over" lane of parenting grandkids!

Book preview

SOMEBODY IS CALLING  MY NAME

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BY

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J.I.M. LORD

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1

1860

There is a lone covered wagon on the prairie of what one day will become Lebanon, Kansas. The campfire is Ike and Anna Kilpatrick's only source of. warmth. Ike paces. His face is twisted and he has been crying. Anna steps in front of him. She attempts to comfort him but he sidesteps her and continues pacing. The couple are in their mid-thirties, but can pass for much older.

Without so much as a glance at his wife, Ike states, We should have never set out for them gold fields, Anna. 

Anna walks over .to the campfire and warms her hands. "Ike, stop beat­

ing yourself about it. Gold’s probably all found nowadays

anyway."

It's my fault she's sick.

You had nothing to do with her getting sick. She walks over to the back of the wagon and peers in.

I don't even know where we're at, girl. He buries his face in his weathered hands. Lord, we're near out of grub. Ain't got any water. Even ol' Mose and Rita are goin' puny on us.  Ol’ Mose and Rita are tied to the front of the wagon. The old horses have seen better days. Ike ambles over to the campfire and

squats down. The fire illuminates his features, revealing the fear inside. We're still in the Kansas Territory, I 'magine...if I ain't mistaken. That child back there, our girl, I seen it before. The fever is on her. Anna wraps her arm around his waist. God'll lay his hands on her.

They gaze in to the back of the wagon and watch as their eight-year-old, Bess, tosses in her sleep. Her blonde hair is braided in pigtails and her bangs are matted to her forehead. Her breathing is hurtful, short and clipped. I can't watch this sufferin', Ma. I'll be back. He slips into the darkness.

Anna half-scolds him, Ike, you're frettin’... Ike Kilpatrick, don't you go gettin' yourself lost, hear? Lord'll handle it.

Alone in the darkness of the prairie, and out of his mind with worry, Ike bends to one knee and looks heavenward. "Dear Heavenly Father, in Jesus' name...Lord, please don't take ol' Bess back yon' in the wagon. She's

my light, Lord, and I ain't even man enough to provide her water. Lord, help her to... Ow!" Ike scrambles to his feet. He grabs his knee, then feeling around in

the darkness, he extracts a cactus needle from his pant leg. What in the whoop? He examines the needle. He stoops down and considers it’s source.

Back at the wagon, Anna continues the vigil. She has taken Bess from

the wagon. She is sitting by the fire, cradling the child in her arms.

./_

Ike approaches. Hes  carrying, very carefully, a piece of the cactus. What's that you're holdin' so precious there, Ike?

Ike explains, Always heard ya can get water outta one of these things. A cactus? In Kansas? Didn't know there was such a thing 'round here. Pricked me, back yon', talkin' to the Lord. He takes the cactus and

cuts a sliver off. He squeezes it. What appears to be water trickles out and the droplets hit square on his boot.

Old wife tale, Pa. Help me. She hands Bess to him and he holds her in his arms.

Here ya go, girl, he tells the sleeping child as he squeezes a single drop into her mouth. How long has it been since she spoke?

'Fraid you're right. I felt it, fever is on her, Ike.

He squeezes another drop from the cactus and this one hits its mark. The first one had hit on her parched lips. There ya go, girl.

Anna tells him, That ain't enough to...

Bess squirms in her Pa's arms. Her eyes flutter, then Ike exclaims, What the...?

Bess frowns. Whatta ya holding me for, Pa? You're squeezin' the life outta me. She squirms a second time. She frees herself from his grip then

she stands on her own two feet. She tells her folks, I'm hungry.

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2 

1960

There is a curbside mailbox in front of a two-story house in modern-day Lebanon,Kansas. Thename on the box reads: RODIACK, 425 North Cacti Street. The sun is just about to appear on this quiet Sunday morning.

On the Rodiack porch there is what appears to be a large straw basket A man in his mid-40s opens the screendoor. He is equipped with a cup of coffee. He doesn't notice the basket He is more intent on finding the Sun­ day paper. His name is Coslov Rodiack. He finds the paper and makes a beeline for the porchswing. He takes a seat and opens up the paper to the sports section.

At the opposite end of the porch the basket begins to move, vibrating this way and that. Slowly, Cos, as his friends callhim, lowers his paper.He peeks over the top of the baseball scores. He adjusts his glasses and stares

Ruff/Somebody is Calling My Name   5

at the basket. What the...?

The basket stops moving, then Coslov sees a pair of tiny feet pop up.

He hears crying. He stands and, cautiously, approaches the basket. Whispering, he calls to his wife. Graila. Then in a deep voice, though not loud enough to startle what he believes to be in the basket, he repeats, "Graila! Girl, you

better step out here a minute."

Graila steps out onto the porch. She is wearing a housecoat and holding a spatula. Where'd that laundry basket come from?

This time, loud and clear, the object in the basket lets go with a hefty wail. The Rodiacks take a step back then a step forward. .Coslov announces. Well, whatta we got here?

The baby cries, then after a moment he coos. Graila exclaims, A baby. Cos reaches in and takes the infant into his arms. "A buck-naked baby

boy. This kind of stuff don't happen no more, abandoning a child on a door­

step?"

Graila takes the baby and strides to the door. It does now.

Coslov glances across the street, then down the road, half-expecting to spy those who may have abandoned the child on his front porch. He scratches his head, then states in a hushed tone, Only in Kansas. Go figure.

Ruff/Somebody is Calling My Name 6

3

1970

There is a curbside mailbox in front of a two-story house in modern-day Lebanon, Kansas. The name on the box reads: THE VIEWS, 425 North Cacti Street. The sun is just starting to appear on this quiet Sunday morning.

On the View's front porch there appears to be a plastic laundry basket. A man in his mid-30s opens the screendoor. He is equipped with a cup of coffee. He doesn't notice the basket. He is more intent on finding the Sun­

day paper. His name is Ronald View. He finds the paper and makes a beeline for the porchswing. He takes a seat and opens the paper to the sports section. At the opposite end of the porch the basket begins to move, vibrating

this way and that. Slowly, Ron, as his friends call him, lowers his paper. He peeks over the top of the baseball scores. He adjusts his glasses and stares at the basket. What the...?

Ruff/Somebody is Calling My Name 7

The basket stops moving, then Ronald sees a pair of tiny feet pop up.

He hears crying. He stands and, cautiously, approaches the basket. Whispering, he calls to his wife. Donna. Then in a deep voice, though not loud enough to startle what he believes to be in the basket, he repeats, "Donna! Girl, you

better step out here a minute."

Donna steps out onto the porch. She is wearing a housecoat and holding a spatula. Where'd that laundry basket come from?

This time, loud and clear, the object in the basket lets go with a hefty wail. The Views take a step back then a step forward. Ronald announces. Well, whatta we got here?

The baby cries then after a moment, she coos. Donna exclaims, A baby. Ron reaches in and takes the infant into his arms. "A buck-naked baby

girl. This kind of stuff don't happen no more, abandoning a child on a door­

step?"

Donna takes the baby and strides to the door. It does now.

Ronald glances across the street, then down the road, half-expecting to spy those who may have abandoned the child on his front porch. He scratches his head, then states in a hushed tone, Only in Kansas. Go figure.

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4

1970

Cosgral Rodiack, now 10, and a big boy for his age, with blonde hair and hands the size of a catcher's mitt, is playing ball over there on the Roosevelt Elemen­ tary playground with his buddy Lenny Moore. Lenny is a cute kid with what some call girlish features. He is anything but, all boy, with red hair and freckles. All boy, as is Cos. Each has even kissed a girl before who wasn't their mom or

grandma, a little 4th grader by the name of Trudy.

The boys are clad in t-shirts and cutoff jeans. Both are barefoot. Cos has a scrape on his knee, but you can't see it because of the white gauze bandage covering the one-time skateboard accident. They have the playground all to themselves, it being a weekday smackdab in the middle of the summer.

Cos catches a fastball from Lenny, then Lenny gets distracted by a stray

dog crossing the playground. Cos doesn't see Lenny looking the other way. The ball comes out of Cos's hand before he can stop himself. The toss makes a beeline for Lenny's head.

The ball strikes him right on the side of the head, just above the temple. Lenny goes down, but, just as fast as he went down, he is back up on his feet.

Dang, Cos, wait till... Lenny reaches up and feels the blood streaming down the side of his face.

Cos hurries to his friend's side. He sees the one-inch gash the ball caused. Geez, Lenny, I'm sorry!.

Wait til I'm lookin' next time, Cosgral.

Cosgral? You only call me that when you're mad at...oh. I'm sorry, I really am. Dang. Cos exclaims, You're bleeding pretty good. You okay?

Lenny tells him, Gimme your shirt. The blood is flowing and there is a hint of panic in Lenny's voice.

No, here, Cos tells him. Cos reaches down and rips the bandage from his knee. He attempts to hand the bandage to his buddy.

Gross!. I ain't gonna use that!

Cos explains, It's gauze, man. Here, I'll tear off the bloody part. Carefully, Cos takes a couple of layers from the bandage, leaving a clean layer for Lenny.

Lenny sighs. I guess. Man, I hope you ain't got nothing I can catch! Here, Cos says, handing Lenny a clean layer of the gauze.

It hurts, Cos, Lenny tells him as he applies the clean layer to his head. "Don't be a wimp, Lenny. Just hold it there til you get home. You'll be

fine til your Mom can get at it and clean it up."

I guess, Lenny states matter-of-fact like.

Cosgral grabs their mitts and the ball and hurries to catch up as Lenny heads to his house. Wait up. He catches up. "Geez, Lenny, I'm sorry. I can't do anything right. I told ya, earlier, didn't I? I can't do nothing without causing

folks grief. Heck, I don't even know why I'm here. I threw the ball...l wasn't even... shoot, I wasn't even born right...got left on a porch and..."

Lenny pulls the gauze away from his head and examines it for blood. Cos stares in disbelief at Lenny's face. What? Lenny asks him.

I...I dunno...nothin'...

What, Cos? Is it bad?

The gash which had appeared after Lenny is hit by the ball is now gone. Disappeared. There is no cut. No blood. Completely healed. Feel your head, Lenny.

Lenny feels for the cut. What the...what happened, Cos?

As the boys mope off the playground and cross the street they have no idea they are being watched. From behind a clump of trees a ten-year-old girl appears. She has been watching the boys since they walked onto the

playground. She has a crush on both of them but has never quite been able to decide which one she likes best. Her name is Trudy.

5

1986

Rhonda View is a teenager, sixteen this year. She's a pretty girl, with light brown hair, brown eyes and an upturned nose. She sits at the vanity in the bedroom she shares with her stepsister. Rhonda is daydreaming, staring

out the window, probably wondering if ever the day will come she won't have to share anything with that certified brat across the room there.

Lillith, age 15, is sitting on the floor of the bedroom, painting her toenails a fire engine red. She contemplates the little toe on her right foot then she stares at the back of Rhonda's head. Lillith is a pretty girl, maybe prettier than Rhonda, with black hair and, of all things, black-as-night eyes. The girls are definitely stepsisters. Everything about them points to such a conclusion. Looks, likes, personalities. Lillith checks her toes again, then states, Rhonda? No answer. Rhonda, anybody in there? Rhonda, oh, earth to Miss Rhonda View?

Rhonda turns and eyes Lillith. Huh? Oh, I didn't hear you. I was thinking about...

Lillith snaps, You heard me!

Turning her attention back to the business at hand, Rhonda declares, Did not, Lillith. And don't start with me.

Lillith scrunches around on her rear, juts her left leg out, then begins to paint the nails on her other foot. I'll start with you. Ya know, you really are the wicked step-sister, aren't you? Lillith pulls her foot up as close as she can to her face, then she attempts to blow dry her big toe. She snipes to her sister, And while I'm at it, why don't you clean out those potato patches you call ears? Sixteen and practically deaf.

Without looking around, Rhonda answers, "While you're at what? Don’t take

all your worldly belligerence out on me, Lil. For good measure, Rhonda digs a finger into her ear and extracts a good bit of wax. Just for you, Lillith," she adds.

A look of disgust swells over Lillith's face. I knew it, you don't bathe. Smiling, Rhonda turns and holds her finger up, as if she is checking

wind direction. Look who's talking. Forget it. What do you want?

Lillith stands and walks on her heels over to her bed, the one still

unmade. I better not smudge... She sits on the side of the bed and once again stares at the back of Rhonda's head. She says, Can I borrow those earrings you're—

Rhonda cuts her short. "For the umpteenth time, Lillith, no, you can't borrow

my earrings. You don't even have pierced ears, dummy. Look, these are pierced earrings, not clip-ons...dummy," she adds, just for good measure.

Lillith jumps to her feet. Rhonda whirls around and, as if her wax-loaded finger is a gun, she points it straight at Lillith's nose. The ploy works. Lillith keeps her distance. Then Lillith shrieks, I told you to never call me a dummy!

Rhonda smiles, then in a mannered tone states, Too late. 'Sides, what're you going to do about it?

Lillith has heard enough. She approaches her stepsister, fists clinched. While edging toward Rhonda, Lillith brushes her bangs from her eyes, exposing a huge zit right in the middle of her forehead. That tears it!

Rhonda stands and squares off with her sister. Ee-u! Don't come near me with that big zit. What've it popped? We'd probably all drown, and Ron and Donna'd have to abandon ship. Rhonda laughs, cracking herself up with that one.

Lillith lunges at Rhonda, attempting to grab her sister's ears. Rhonda attempts to cover up. The fight is on. It’s clear Lillith is trying to rip the earrings from Rhonda's head. Gimmee!

Stop, you little creep, Rhonda tells her. Having had enough, Rhonda takes an open hand and slaps Lillith right on that headlight of a zit. The zit pops and Lillith, as if hit by a bus, falls to the floor.

Oh, you witch, Lillith screams. Man, I feel it, you got earwax all over my...my...

"All over your what, your zit? And that