Months ago, the two men (one white, one Pacific Islander) in neat aloha work shirts at the cemeterytold me that hospitals were ordering ventilators to make money. I yelled at them. From then on, Lilith and I simply waved and they waved back. A pleasantly empty friendliness. About ten days ago, the Pacific Islander mentioned to me that the election was coming up; I said I'd been waving signs and he wondered for whom. Yesterday, as he zipped by on his John Deere tractor/golf cart, he said, "I guess it's going to the Supreme Court!" to which I responded that Biden had won. Today, I looked through the plastic shield at the shack; he looked a bit sheepish. "It's over," quoth I. "Oh no, lots of mental games now," he said. "It's over," I repeated. He and the other guy laughed amiably as Lilith and I trudged by. For a change, Lily and I walked up to what used to be Ferdinand Marcos's tomb, from which we had a beautiful, if hazy, view down the coast. On the way out, the white guy hailed me with a friendly hello.
--11/6/20
No comments:
Post a Comment