Ghosts Next Door

Ghosts Next Door
by Lopaka Kapanui

Oct 1, 2018

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2018 #30


Save for the beautifully hand sewn quilt, the room on the second floor stood empty. It was where the queen had been imprisoned for the better part of eight months.
Out of respect for what she endured, the staff may have chosen to not recreate any evidence of her suffering and humiliation by way of physical properties. Hence, a table, a bed, or a plate made to hold a piece of hardened bread. Neither would there be a pitcher of water or the glass to receive it. Rather, there would be a large piece of plexiglass which housed a magnificent quilt sewn by the queen herself. It may have been that the quilt began with two swaths of cloth and grew into such a large size as the queen may have been unaware as to the duration of her imprisonment. On the second floor, there was a momentary lull in the number of visitors who roamed about. Meaning that the upstairs was empty, we on the bottom floor having entered through the back had occasion to hear a most beautiful lilting voice echoing down toward us. There was myself, my family and the first docent of the day. Hearing the music, it was evident by her countenance that she'd forgotten to uphold her composure and quickly rushed to the elevator. We followed close behind and to our surprise, she did not seem to be at all bothered by our presence.

"Hurry up," she murmured out of frustration. "These old elevators I tell you!"

Through the thick doors of the of the cart, lifting us to the second floor, the beautiful voice found it's way to us and moved us body and soul with a longing ache to be in its presence. Finally, as the doors receded we filtered past the gold room and carefully scuttled across the hall and into the imprisonment chamber. It was devoid of any human presence except for the quilt but ah.....the minstrel of voice came from the adjoining room whose stark floors reflected the sunlight from the open windows. There stood the angel effortlessly strumming a 'ukulele whose tune carried her voice to unimaginable heights. We were mesmerized as children would be had they looked upon the light of the heavens. Tears welled up and we moved closer together and held on to one another. The docent covered her mouth with one hand while her tears fell without the need for a reason. The room contained nothing but its own emptiness while a disembodied voice finished the last strains of its beautiful song.

"E ka gentle breeze, ke pa mai nei. Ho'ohali'ali'a mai ana ia'u, e ku'u sweet never-fading flower. I bloom i ka uka, o Paoakalani...."


  1. This is so beautiful. I had some tears with my coffee and a moment of quiet reflection for Hawaii's Queen and her people. Thank you.