Lilith and I were heading home on Hui Kelu when a guy in a pick-up truck drove by, baseball cap turned backwards. I thought I caught a flicker of interest, which seemed odd. Then, from the stop sign behind me, I hear "GO CARDINALS!!" and see a shaka sign pushed through the left open window. I was wearing my Bob Gibson (#45) teeshirt and Cards cap.
Two workmen in the cemetery, each with a hand in the mouth of a stone dragon. They'd been talking sound systems in pidgin on our way up the hill. "There's a ball in there; we gotta get em out," says the older of the two. "Da old man got his out already" (a third man stands at some distance apart, laughing). One workman, after working the mouth a while, pulls out a stone ball, the same gray as the statue. "I'm taking it home," he says, before putting it back in the dragon's mouth. The other guy is still trying, his hand still inserted into his dragon's mouth.
At the top of the hill, in front of the chapel, I'm taking photographs of circles; Lilith and I wander around the three women who walk the cemetery and the man who works there. He looks full Hawaiian. As Lilith and I walk by, the man asks if I'm from here. I say I live in Temple Valley and point in that direction. "No, were you born and raised here?" I say no, but I've lived here 31 years, and my husband longer, that his dad grew up here. One woman says "local." I say at least I can get a kamaaina discount. As Lilith and I move on, I say, "humid today, yeah?" Then add, "I didn't used to say 'yeah.'"
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