Web Site: The Composer
Chapter 2- Wanderer
God's Son is about life. About learning one's place in the world. After contemplating suicide Daniels decides that several stories that truly affected his life are enough to persuade him to try again. . He learns that everyone has a place in this world and it takes time to find out just exactly what God has planned for you. After having the opportunity to speak with a homeless man, acknowledging he truly does have a sixth sense, listening to another homeless man play the trumpet, seeing Maya Angelou on The Oprah Winfrey Show, seeing Billie Holliday and Langston Hughes in a dream, and meeting a rebellious teen named Sarah, he truly has a new purpose in life and that is as God's Son.
Chapter 2 - Wanderer
I remember as I walked down the highway the loud sound of the cars passing by quickly awoke me from my zombie type existence. I was walking ever so slowly with my head buried in my chest. I didn’t want people to notice me. I was someone “different” now, that’s what the doctor had told me.
As I walked across the enormous field that led towards the parks entrance, it looked as if I were an ant among the large rows of dirt. It looked as if I were a stalk of corn. If the local farmer that plowed the field would have been out and about on his tractor, I would have been grinded up pieces of corn ready to be canned.
As I thought about becoming some type of canned good, my slow weary walk turned into a runner’s warm up jog. Eventually after warming up, I was in full stride. I don’t believe that the fastest runner in the world could have caught me. I made it to the other side successfully, and as I bent down and rested the palms of my hands on my knees, the view of the freshly mowed grass brought a smile to my face. I could see the park now. It was only steps away. It was dark then. I had traveled all this way, I wasn’t about to turn around now.
As I officially made it to the park I couldn’t help but be happy that I had successfully made it. A bit out of breath and tired, the first thing on my mind was to immediately sit down. There were no lights lit upon my arrival, a bit scared, I was very cautious of my environment as I didn’t know exactly what to expect. There was one light that flickered, but it was at the end of the street which was yards away.
I could see a little, not much. As I continued to walk through past various attractions, I saw a group of park benches resting in front of a row of bushes. I quickly made my way over and sat down.
“What are you doing here?”
I quickly jumped up and looked at the row of bushes. My first thought was to run but I just backed up a few yards and looked at the bushes.
“Hey!” The voice said. I thought that I had truly gone crazy.
“Hello…” I responded.
“I’m over here,” the voice said. It was apparent that the voice was coming from a male. I wasn’t coming any closer until I knew just exactly whom the voice was coming from.
“Don’t be frightened,”
“I won’t hurt you,” the voice said.
“I’m behind the bushes.”
As I walked behind the row of bushes I could see a man resting inside what was a cardboard box.
“You want me to turn on the lights that’s light this area of the park?” I could now see exactly who was speaking to me.
“I guess that would be fine,” I replied.
As the lights slowly began to light the area I was standing in I could the person which I thought was only a voice.
“You still there?” I asked waiting until the lights completely came on before I made my next movement. It was now clear. The gentleman was sitting inside a card board box. I remember it read Textile Inc.
I didn’t want to bother the man, I just was looking for a brief moments rest from everything that I had just been told. Although it was summer, he wore a long trench coat with a stocking mask. The kind you were during the coldest days of winter.
“Have a seat,” he said, pointing to the benches. I was unsure of just exactly what my next move actually would be. The dirt that covered the man’s face made it hard to get a view of exactly who he was. The cap was draped tight over his eye brows, all I saw were the whites from his eyes and his shadow. I didn’t know what to expect.
“What brings you this way?” He asked sounding almost exactly like my doctor had sounded earlier that day.
“Nothing, just wandering,” I replied.
“Well this is your lucky day,” He said beginning to laugh.
I didn’t know exactly what the man meant but for some reason I wasn’t scared at all, I didn’t move. I could see that the man was down and out, hard times had fallen his way, maybe he needed someone to talk to.
As the man dipped his head back into the card board box I couldn’t help but become a bit nervous as to what he was about to show me.
“What are you doing?” I asked him. As if he were about to blow up the world.
“I can draw,” he replied. He was apparently going to show me some of his work.
“Oh really,” I said a bit reassured that I wasn’t about to be harmed.
As the man brought himself back from the back of his home he had three pictures in his hand. He wasn’t lying, I felt as though then I could really trust him. He was one of the few people that I had let my guard down for in a while. I always thought other people were out to “get” me. I don’t know what it was; I think it was from the teasing I had unfortunately experienced.
As the gentleman handed me the pictures, I looked at him and begin to wonder what had unfortunately happened that he was now homeless. It was like he was waiting for me. Or someone. He was eager.
“Lucky-z the name,”
“Lucky?” I asked.
“I know that’s not your real name,” I told him giving him a slight shrug to the shoulder.
“Lucky-to-be-alive,” he said belting into a loud roar of laughter. His joke didn’t make me laugh, it saddened me. I began to think about everything that had happened to me earlier in the day.
“Something the matter?” He asked putting his pictures down.
It was obvious that although I was trying to be courteous, the reality of things were starting to set in. I thought about how I couldn’t control my nervousness, how every time I felt the least bit scared of something I had to run to the bathroom. It was constantly racing through my mind now, I was even sicker than I thought.
“You going to look at these?” he asked.
“Sure,” I replied extending my hand to take the pictures.
As I took the pictures and began to look at each one I was truly amazed. They were beautiful. It was apparent that the man did have talent. Why wasn’t he an artist? A painter? I didn’t want to pry into Lucky’s personal life, but I was eager to know more about his life and exactly what inspired these beautiful drawings.
The first picture was of the sun rising. It was refreshing. I could see birds in the sky, many things. To the side there was a waterfall, it looked as if there was a man and a woman holding hands as they watched the water flow.
“Who are they?” I asked pointing to the two people.
“Lovebirds,” he replied.
“Her name was Lula.”
“Was?” I asked as if the woman didn’t exist anymore.
“Yeah, she died years ago.”
“So that’s you?” I asked.
“Yes, many years ago.”
I took it as if the picture was in remembrance of the love the two once shared. As I stared at the picture Lucky seemed to be off in his own world. It looked as if he took a brief moment to reminisce before he began to tell me the story.
“Lula was the love of my life,” he said looking up into the moonlight smiling.
“We were together for 40 years.”
“High school sweet hearts.” He added.
God's Son will be released sometime in March or April by Publish America, stay tuned for updates.
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|Reviewed by m j hollingshead
|enjoyed the read|
|Reviewed by Judy Lloyd
|I love stories like these and I have something similiar in a story called The Power and The Glory. Good luck with your book.|