Whispered on the Desert Sands

By Jerome Schorr

Andy is not ready to face his demons. Abandoned by his father when he was young, Andy is now dealing with the consequences of being an angry twenty-one-year-old man who just got into trouble with the law. To stay out of jail, he must now write a twenty-page essay on the plight of the homeless in Las Vegas.

While researching his essay, Andy meets Patches, a homeless man who wears bunny slippers in lieu of shoes. As he writes, he begins to immerse himself into the homeless culture, and in so doing, develops a friendship with Patches, who teaches him not to be too quick to judge a man until all the facts are in. His essay opens not only his eyes but also his heart to the homeless community. The valuable lessons he learns ultimately lead him to discover the insight, healing, and closure he needs as life comes full circle and the truth is unveiled.

Whispered on the Desert Sands shares the poignant tale of a young man’s life-changing journey as he searches for reconciliation for past hurts through the wisdom of a homeless man.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Archway Publishing
• Release date: Aug 21, 2017
• ISBN: 9781480849662

Jerome Schorr

He was born in Fort Wayne, Indiana, in 1955 and got his bachelor’s degree in business administration from Wayland Baptist University when he was thirty-one years old. He retired from the air force in 1995 and has four children. He currently lives in northern Maine.

Book preview

Prologue

A ndy once again pulled out the newspaper article from his shirt pocket titled Earthbound Angel gets its Wings, which was in that morning’s edition of the Las Vegas Review-Journal. It detailed the story of a man Andy affectionately called Patches.

The homeless community in and around Las Vegas revered Patches for the things he had done for them. Andy remembered what Tom, who found solace within the community, once said about him, He’s here because he wants to be.

Patches was renowned for showing up to help people who were at the crossroads of making a life-altering decision. He was there to guide them onto the right path. Once their situation or dilemma was resolved and his intervention was no longer required, they would turn to find no trace he had ever been there.

Tom had asked Andy once if he believed in angels and went on to say, Well, I think he might be the very thing.

Andy recalled the day Patches sat down next to him on the bus at a time in his life when he needed him. Andy had a lot on his mind as he rehashed the memory of his father abandoning him when he was just a child. These emotions were brought to the surface because his mother was getting married in a few hours to a man he didn’t know. He was angry, and he had a right to be.

On the bus, Patches had spoken to him as a father would to his son. He had told him things like, ‘A man’s life is tough, and it doesn’t always go in the direction he aims it. You must understand, we all live with regrets, and I’m sure,’ he said, ‘that your father regrets that he lived his life without you in it. I’m sure he loves you, wherever he is, and he always will.’

After saying what needed to be said, Patches got up and pushed the button above his seat to signal to the bus driver he wanted off at the next stop. But before he left, he squeezed Andy’s right shoulder with his left hand and added, ‘You’re going to be all right!’

Andy was caught off guard with what Patches shared with him because he hadn’t said a thing to him about his problems. It was as if he had read his mind.

He had tried to keep an eye on him as the bus pulled away, but in the time, it took Andy to blink, his friend was gone. It was as if he had melted into the desert scenery and was out of Andy’s sight within seconds.

A few months had passed since that day, and now Andy was attending Patches’ funeral.

If fate had not intervened when it did, this story would never have been told because the lessons learned would never have been taught.

On his 21st birthday, Andy got into trouble with the law. Luckily for him, his cousin Eric, a sergeant on the Las Vegas Police Department, was able to persuade the judge to have him write a 20-page report on the homeless instead of doing community service for his offence.

Eric thought if Andy understood the plight of the homeless better, he would realize that his father was not a bum; nor were many of those who called the streets their home.

Had these dominoes not fallen as they did, then Patches’ death, in all likelihood, would have gone unnoticed.

The funeral was held outside to accommodate the thousands who came to say their goodbyes. KLAS-TV 8 News NOW had a camera crew in place and was prepared to air the funeral live.

About five minutes before the service began, Andy rose from his seat and walked over to the open casket to say his final goodbye. He looked down at the man lying there and smiled before leaning into the coffin with everybody watching and whispered something into Patches’ ear before returning to his seat next to his cousin.

Chapter 1

A ndy often sat sipping coffee just outside of the Tropicana with paper and pen in hand. He loved writing and hoped one day to get a novel published. He had plenty of characters to choose from based from his perch outside the casino. He sat there for hours at a time honing his skills by writing poetry and short stories about the people he saw entering jubilantly with money in hand and later leaving with little to no jingle in their pockets.

The Tropicana Las Vegas is one of four casinos located on the Strip. An area opened only to pedestrian traffic, its four corners are home to four major resorts: Excalibur Hotel and Casino, Tropicana Las Vegas, New York-New York Hotel and Casino, and MGM Grand Las Vegas.

He believed he was more than capable to write this paper on the homeless given to him by the court and do it justice at the same time. It was this confidence, coupled with his lackluster attitude about doing it, that made him ponder his next move. With only five weeks left before he had to turn it in, he was beginning to feel pinched for time because he hadn’t yet started on it.

He tapped his fingers on the table before retrieving his cell phone from his shirt pocket. His cousin worked for the police department and he hoped he might have enough pull to get him an extension.

Under his breath, he said, At least it’s worth a try. His cousin Eric had told him never to call him at work unless it was an emergency. Andy reckoned this constituted such an occasion, so, he dialed in his number and waited for him to answer.

It rang about four times before Eric picked up.

Hello, this is Sergeant Sumner of the Las Vegas Metro Police. How may I help you?

Hey, Eric, this is Andy. I know you told me never to call you at work, but I have a big favor to ask of you. Are you free to talk now?

Eric sighed. Sure, cuz. What can I do for you?

I was wondering if you could talk with the judge and get me about a three-week extension. To be honest, I haven’t even started that report yet.

No, can do, cuz! That was a judge-ordered sentence. I was wondering how long it would take you to call. I was able to talk him into giving you that sentence because I told him I thought you could write a decent paper highlighting the homeless situation here in Vegas. At the same time, I thought you might learn a thing or two along the way.

There’s nothing you can do? pleaded Andy. I don’t think I can do it in five weeks."

You had plenty of time, replied Eric. Don’t waste more of it talking to me about it. You’d better get on it, and I mean today! Eric curtly added, I’ve got to go, cuz. Good luck. I’ll see you on Sunday for dinner at my place as usual. Tell your Mom not to forget to bring a strawberry ice cream cake for Heidi’s 33rd birthday. Bye! And with that, he hung up, before Andy had a chance to say another word.

Well, that wasn’t the response I was expecting, Andy thought. He looked around at everyone hustling about and suddenly felt completely alone in their midst. Five weeks wasn’t enough time to do this right, but if that was all he had, then he had better take his cousin’s advice and get started on it.

He took his laptop out of its carrier bag and put it on the table. Luckily for him, all the major casinos had Wi-Fi, so all he had to do to get online was to tap into their system. After he had run through all their requirements, he was able to get online. The first thing he did was type the word homeless into the Google search window. Within seconds, the following suggestions popped up: Homeless Services of Clark County, a list of Las Vegas homeless shelters, and a site called, Facts about Homelessness, as well as, a list of others.

Andy wanted to write a good paper, but this subject splintered in all kinds of different directions such as available facilities, available services, and specific locations where they congregated. As he studied the page, it became apparent he needed a theme so he could better structure his report.

It seemed obvious from any layperson’s perspective that a lot of the homeless had some connection to drugs or alcohol, but Andy wasn’t privy to all the other reasons individuals became homeless. He was aware some vets called the streets their home. These men and women were the elite. They willingly put their lives on the line for our freedom, and now the nation turned its back to their pleas for help. It wasn’t right!

According to Facts about Homelessness, many of our displaced citizens suffered from chronic pain that affected their joints, ligaments, and tendons (like arthritis). Others suffered from amnesia and severe mental illnesses. Some individuals had been released from hospitals and jails without proper community support. A lot were felons who couldn’t find jobs if their lives depended on it. The list went on.

As Andy read, he recalled how close he and his Mom came to being homeless themselves. He didn’t remember the details of what happened when his father disappeared because he was too young. He needed to talk to his Mom later about that when he had time; maybe she could enlighten him about what happened that day. The thought that his father would just take off had angered him his whole life, and now it turned out that anger he harbored indirectly was the sole purpose for him to write this paper.

He quickly jotted down a few questions he wanted to ask his Mom once he got home so she could clarify a few things for him.

After thirty minutes, Andy looked at what he had and was satisfied he had enough to begin his project. He looked at his watch and figured it was time he headed home. He closed the laptop and gathered his things together and started walking to the bus stop to catch a southbound bus to Henderson. The bus later picked him up and dropped him off about a half mile from his house, and he ended up walking the rest of the way home.

As he approached his house, he noticed his mother’s car in the driveway. When he unlocked the front door and walked in, he found her lying on the couch watching TV. Her hair was in curlers, and she was in her pajamas. She looked up from the bowl of popcorn she had been eating and asked, Where have you been all afternoon?

I was on the Strip at the café I usually frequent to work on my poetry, Andy replied. He could tell from the tone of her voice that she wasn’t inquisitive as much as condescending. He’d dropped out of the Community College of Southern Nevada a few months earlier, which had angered her to the nth degree. She had hoped he’d make something of himself, but the signs were just not there.

Nora wasn’t looking for a fight, so she added, If you get hungry, you can have some of the leftover spaghetti in the fridge.

Andy replied, Okay, thanks, and went to his room and closed the door. He figured he could wait until she was in a better mood to talk with her. Whenever they talked about his father, it rarely ended well.

He climbed onto his bed and propped a couple of pillows under his back before pulling his laptop out of its carrier bag and flipping it open. He again typed in the word homeless into the search engine. Then he paused and began to reminisce about the last time he saw his father.

He pictured himself sitting on the hard ground behind an old oak tree, hidden from view, a finger in each ear, singing, Twinkle, twinkle, little star, how I wonder what you are. He was oblivious to any sound going on around him. There was no more yelling or screaming. It was peaceful, and that silence made Andy happy as he listened to things he couldn’t hear.

He didn’t hear his father’s car door slam or the squealing tires of his ’76 Buick Rivera as he put it into reverse and angrily pulled out of the driveway, scattering gravel as he left. All he heard were the words to the song he sang over and over again. Twinkle, twinkle, little star, how I wonder what you are.

He assumed that his parents had had a big fight, and, instead of working it out, his father had just up and left. He’d never had all the facts. If he had, his whole perception of him might have been different. At this time in his life, he didn’t have a high opinion of him.

While Andy was reliving his past, the house-phone rang. He didn’t have an extension in his room, so he left it ring. One was in his Mom’s room, and the other was in the living room.

His Mom answered it and he overheard her say, Yeah, he just walked in. Hold on. She walked down the narrow hallway to his room and rapped her knuckles very loudly on his door. Nora’s eyes narrowed, and her face tightened, indicating she didn’t like the guy on the phone. Here, it’s Bob, she said as she handed him the phone.

Andy took the receiver from her and shrugged, as if to say, I didn’t do anything. He turned his back to her and closed his door in front of her face to get some privacy. Hello, Andy said into the mouthpiece.

Hey, I just wanted to see how you were doing, said Bob. What’s wrong with your Mom? She sounds as if she’s mad about something.

You think? She doesn’t like you because every time I’m with you I get in trouble. That’s why.

And she blames me?

No, Bob. She blames me. Okay?

Hey, don’t get so riled up. I just wanted to see how you were doing on your paper.

I haven’t started on it yet.

Nora shouted from the living room, Hey! When you get off the phone, I want to talk with you.

She sounds really angry. Hey, I’ve got to go. I just called to find out how you are doing. I’ll talk with you tomorrow.

Andy heard the phone go dead and was surprised that his friend would just hang up on him like that. He then opened his bedroom door and shouted back to his Mom and said, About what? You’re always on my case. I’m not a little kid anymore.

"That’s just the point. You are twenty-one, and I need you to start acting like it. And since we’re on the subject, I don’t understand this problem you got arrested for. And now I understand you haven’t even started on that report. What’s wrong with you? Do you want a blot on your police record?"

"All I did was close my car window when a panhandler stuck his hand in to demand money for cleaning my windshield. I told him before he began I didn’t want it done, but he went ahead and sprayed it with water anyway and wiped it off. Then he demanded I pay