"No, man, I'm not on the streets. I'm not. Do you want a beer? I have beer."
It was awfully cold that evening, and Jeff was shivering as he spoke. A bus came, but Jeff made no effort to get on. I'm not sure he would be allowed to board it, in any case, not that he had anywhere to go, really. Though he didn't look terribly dirty, Jeff did reek of days-old sweat and urine. He smelled homeless. Another bus came, then another, but Jeff would stay outside all night, as he had so many nights.
I went back to the same area on other days, but never saw Jeff again. I did encounter "the guided one," however, a man in his 60's with stringy, salt and pepper whisker, and a cap over his hoodie. Mahdi's belongings were stacked on two shopping carts and a most unusual, highly modified bicycle, and they weren't together but in three spots, over some distance. I'd think that if you didn't have a door and lock, you'd want to keep all your stuffs within immediate reach, to prevent them from walking away, but clearly Mahdi was willing to sacrifice this security to stake out a vaster territory. In his own way, he was practicing imperial overreach.
Of course, Mahdi's no emperor of anything, not even of ice cream. He has lost all but a few scraps, with even his ideas stolen from him, "I see these houses all over Oakland painted in the color scheme I came up with years ago. People are making lots of money from these fancy houses, but they're using my color scheme, and I'm not getting a penny from it."
"What color scheme are you talking about?"
"It's purple, green and brown. You see it everywhere, but, you know, sometimes they change it slightly. I came up with this color scheme years ago, decades ago! It has spiritual significance, for it brings harmony to all those who dwell within. You will feel calmer, you hear me, just by looking at it. Remember: Purple, green and brown. I call it my Intergalactical Cosmic Color Scheme."
If Mahdi had three drummers behind him, you might mistake him for Sun Ra. OK, I'm sorry, Mr. Ra, for you are the man! And a Philly badass, no less, just like B Franklin!
Not content to steal Mahdi's color scheme, the ungrateful world will soon snatch from him an even greater invention, Mahdi's magnificent sleeping bicycle. Attached to the frame is a cubicle, made of cardboard and milk crates, where you can actually lie down. You can't pedal while reclining, however, but then an RV owner can't sleep and drive either. In any case, Mahdi's invention is surely the RV of the future. After Social Security is finally wiped out, a retiring worker can be sent off with one of these tiny apartments on wheels, and when he dies, it will also serve, conveniently and economically, as his coffin. Seeing Mahdi's ingenious bike, smartasses had dubbed it all sorts of insulting names, "One guy called it the ghetto train, but this isn't a train, and it's not ghetto. Once they've stolen my idea, they'll mass produce my bike and make lots of money. You will see it all over Oakland, and all over America."
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