An Ode to Nic (558)

Nic (558) worked on the corner of Lonsdale and Elizabeth on the weekends; Hardware lane and Lygon street during the week. About four weeks before he died; and overdose, they think, he left Melbourne to work on a fishing trawler in the Northern Territory, or somethings like that.

Working around the Big Issue office, I saw him most mornings. He'd come in for a coffee and a cigarette with some others who were around. Then he'd buy some magazine to go out and sell. He'd often be listening to the radio, and he'd always say "It's Nic 558.com.au (558 was his Vendor number) when he called on the phone.
I only really knew him in such ephemeral ways until I really met him, and made a connexion with him one winter day last year. 

I worked Saturday mornings, and would often go for walks around the city to see where the Vendors were working and see how they were going. Nic was working his usual pitch, and I said hello. Suddenly he was asking me about myself, and through this process, he began to tell me about his partner, Tania.

He spoke of her fondly, saying she used to play tennis, but she gave away doing it professionally to go back to university. He also told me, as I said I wanted to write, that she had also been a journalist before she started her Phd. I don't remember what he said she was writing on for her Phd., but I remember, him telling me, even toned, "The day before she handed in her Thesis, she had a brain aneurysm, and died." It was one of the most profound moments I had experienced, as he continued on, encouraging me to keep writing; "Just write a little something everyday."

Vale Nic, Vale.