I've had a hard time remembering his name for more than two days running. Always offered a kind greeting at the front gate and a "walk safe" to Lilith and me as we headed in. I told his mother once how much I like him; she also works for the cemetery. As we approached our friends at the top of the hill, I asked them why I hadn't seen the young man lately. O made a throat cutting motion. Why? He'd missed too many days of work. But, said O, he had a doctor's note for every absence. "He was over this place," the guys said, and I agreed, "but quietly." H smiled. "The whole security crew is getting cut," O continued. "Well, no need for them if you've got all those cameras on high poles," I opined. "Humph, half of them don't work."
It began pouring rain as Lilith and I walked downhill; we'd seen gray sheets of it coming from the ocean. We ducked into a covered area where a funeral was going to be held and waited out the worst of it. The Ko`olau assumed their misty aura; in this scroll, the men using weed whackers are the scholars of old. A long row of drops formed along the tent's metal supports. Lilith was drenched. My bright red Springfield Cardinals shirt could have been wrung out.
The guard shack at the front is being renovated to include two rooms, more windows, and a computer stand. It's still white, not the dusky maroon color that for many years matched the temple. I wonder what the young man's mother is thinking. I hope he gets another job. I'm glad I got him a cup of coffee from McDonald's a couple of months ago. It took an hour inside "the most scenic McD's in the world."
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