Half a Mind

Yesterday I had in mind to tell the tale of Nicolaus, the homeless drummer, who I had mysteriously vanished. As my day progressed yesterday my time ran out and I did not get around to it, and it's a good thing, becuase he reappeared. Now I only have to tell the story of Nicolaus, the homeless drummer who disappears and then reappears.
I met Nicolaus on the corner of Santa Monica and Fairfax, while waiting for the 217, he appreciated my good vibes and felt that he should tell me so. I was tired and weary from my last conversation with a homeless, so I accepted his appraisal and quietly boarded the bus. Nick followed me on, I was surprised that he had cash fro the bus fair. He sat on a seat opposite me and turning his back to the window continued our one-sided conversation.
"It's nice to see people with a good vibe, so many people out here don't have it. I'm from Chicago, I moved here to be in a band, but I can't seem to keep it together. It's that fucking crack man. I have moved out here about four or five different times, and every time I was homeless. I could go back to Chicago, and live with my mom again, but I can't do that to her. I told myself that this would be the last time, that I would stay out here. I don't mind being homeless, but I'd like to have a roof. When I moved out here, I had to live in the hills, I knew I would, I wanted all that, now I just want something. Fucking crack. I had 80 dollars the other night, today I got one. I'm done with crack though, it just eats you up. "
I like the way he talks, so I enjoyed listening to his rather ragged sum up of his personal history. I was more inclined to listen to him because of the drummer thing. I gave him 3 dollars when we got off the bus. He asked me where I was going and then guessed correctly that I was going to work. I asked him what he was going to do, he figured he'd go up to the park on Franklin and take a nap.
That night on my way home from work I saw him again. He was beating on coffee cans on the corner of Hollywood and Highland. I said hello but had to quickly board a bus home.
The next evening I had a bag of BBQ Ribs which I was taking home from work, I ran into Nicolaus, and offered them to him. He was hesitant, but when I told him what they were he accepted them.
"Did you guys have a cook out today?"
I told him that my boss had the night before and brought me the left overs, I think he was disappointed. I could feel the Nicolaus had wanted me to have had a cook out that day.
I saw him everyday for two or three weeks after that. On my way out of the subway tunnel I can hear the reverberated beats of his sticks, off coffee cans and pipes.
I have seen him discouraged, and angry because someone robbed him of three dollars. I have seen him high.
When he was high once, or at least I assumed by his manner that he was high, he slurred:
"I call you my old high school friend, that's what I call you."
I thought for a second that he died when he disappeared, and then I hoped that he went home to his mother in Chicago. I avoided him last night when I heard his drumming.