He was one of the pilgrims of Kahekili, more frequent these days. From the back, his sandals resembled those I remember from the book of Bible stories my father gave me as a child. If he'd had a donkey, he could have been Jesus. A man with a blue bed roll on his back, he carried a plastic bag in his right hand. He'd turned out from `Ahuimanu Park, was lucky the custodian wasn't there, who guards the place like a hawk from poor people and dogs. Wore a slight limp, turned to cross the highway toward the McDonald's on the corner. Having caught up to him, I said I'd spot him a cup of coffee, if I had any money on me, which I didn't. He was a worn looking white man with a white beard, who didn't look impressed at my imaginary offer.
At the end of our cemetery walk, Lilith and I heard a tour guide tell his flock (one of purple hair, another with orange, others more non-descript) that that was the only place where you could get spam and rice and look at such a beautiful view. "Are you talking about 'the most beautiful McDonald's in the world?'" I asked. "And where does that come from?" He told me it was all over social media. I mean, it's a beautiful place, but he's sure there are other beautiful places with McDonald's, too.
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