“Never mind. A pointless question,” said the stranger. Before the cops could begin debating whether it would be more fun to beat or pepper-spray him, he walked over to one of the drummers.

“Hello. What exactly is it you’re doing?”

A young woman nodded. “We’re showing that we won’t take it anymore.”

“And banging drums is how you’re going to unseat an entrenched oligarchy?”

“We’re doing it for Mother Earth,” said the young woman.

“Yeah. This is the rhythm of her heart,” said a young man next to her.

The stranger scratched his chin. “Maybe she should see a doctor. Her heart seems to be skipping a lot of beats.”

The young man gave him a darkly assessing look.

“Thank you. You’ve been very educational,” said the stranger.

“Are you a narc?”

“What’s a narc?”

“Yeah. He’s a narc,” said the young woman.

“You know, you can take lessons for this sort of thing,” said the stranger. “Drumming, I mean. People have been teaching it to each other for thousands of years.”

The drummers ignored him. When the stranger turned, one of the cops crooked a finger at him to call him over.

“What’s your connection to this bunch?” he asked.

“I was just curious about what they—and, of course, you—were doing.”

The policeman stood absolutely still for a moment looking at the stranger. Then he said, “Let’s see your ID.”

“You mean a driver’s license or birth certificate?”

“You carry a birth certificate around with you?”

“No. I don’t have one.”

“Then yes, a driver’s license.”

“I don’t have one of those, either.”

“How about a passport?”

“I don’t have any ID and I threw my guidebook away. I wrote my name in it, if that would help. It’s just back a block or so.”

Two more policemen came over and stood on either side of the stranger.

“I’m going to ask you one more time . . .”

“You can ask all you like. I don’t have any ID. But if it’s any consolation, I think I now know why you’re in such a bad mood. That awful drumming is giving me a headache, too.”

One of the cops took the stranger’s right arm in a powerful grip. “Come with us,” he said and tried to move him. But the stranger remained rooted where he was, much to the policeman’s surprise.

“I don’t think I’ll be coming with you. I don’t have time. But I want to leave you all with something.”

The cop kept tugging on his arm. Two more grabbed the stranger, but couldn’t move him.