to Call Upon
a narration on Tchaikovsky
The phone rang, but no one was there to answer.
It was late at night. The call was to go to the boy’s father, but no one was there to retrieve it. The lights had been out, and the area was flooded. Sam needed to rescue the Sherrif’s daughter from the pond. After all, she was only five. She was trapped.
Hopelessly lost, the girl floats upon the water. In a sea of rage, the Sherrif called upon Sam. He was out-of-town, then, and happened upon a call from Susie, from her wheelchair.
“Sam! Sam! Mary-Lee is stranded in the pond! We’ve had a flood!”
“Susie, what is this about a flood?”
“The whole place is awash. Mary-Lee! She’s trapped!”
The gasp was the worst part.
“Well… I’ll call Sam, Mary-Lee’s friend’s dad. He’ll be there to answer! He’ll get to it!”
The call came.
Slowly, at first. He was hesitant to dial the number. But once your number is dialed in, a call comes, and you better be ready.
Sam was off duty, away, playing Russian roulette at a casino. Gambling not only his own time away, but the life of another.
Luckily, Mary-Lee’s brother, Ben, who’s eight, came by her on his bike, on the way home from practice. Ever the resourceful little fellow, he rescued Mary-Lee, on an offhanded chance, that doesn’t always pay-out. Sam might not have been able to get to his phone line, to retrieve his call. But it doesn’t always land on someone else. Only the person equipped for the call should really handle it. After all, it’s all we’ve got to do: What we’re called to do.
We don’t hedge our bets that someone else will always be on standby...

This makes me think of a devastating flood that happened last year and killed several.
I'm thankful for dry land and your prose.