Ghosts Next Door

Ghosts Next Door
by Lopaka Kapanui

Apr 9, 2019

Na'u

AFTER LIVING A FULL LIFE, Emma Kānehekili, at age 86, was near the end of her time on our earthly plane. 
It had been a while since she had gone for a routine checkup with her doctor, but she began to feel out of sorts. She could no longer do what she liked or move how she used to. So, Mae, her sister, suggested that she go for a checkup just to see if what her body was feeling was simply the onset of old age.

On the day of her appointment, Emma noticed that she was bleeding. It had been years since she'd had her ma‘i, so she thought it was unusual. It began with a simple spot of blood, which did not bother her. She changed to another clean pair of pale ma‘i and was soon on her way to the doctor’s office as scheduled. However, she had not even driven a few blocks from her home when the bleeding began to spread at an even quicker pace. She immediately returned home to find that her niece, Ka‘iulani, had not yet left for work. Emma called the young girl to her car and asked her to bring some wet towels to wipe down her seat. When the young girl performed this duty, Emma went into the house to call 911.

After cleaning her Aunty’s car, Ka‘iulani entered the house and found Emma almost slumped over at the kitchen table. The girl quickly took Emma into her arms to save her from falling off her chair and hitting the floor.

“Mama Emma! Are you okay? What do you need? Why is there blood on your car seat?” Ka‘iulani cried.

“I think,” Emma said, “I may be terribly sick," 

 Ka'iulani called for an ambulance. "They should be here shortly."

 "Do not say anything about this until the doctor tells me what’s wrong? Do you understand?" The girl nodded in agreement while feeling uneasy about the matter.

“In case it turns out to be nothing, I don’t want to unnecessarily send the family into a panic,” Emma instructed.

Shortly after, the ambulance arrived, and Emma was brought to the emergency room at Straub Hospital. Emma's doctor came to his office to see her and perform her tests there. When he was done, he simply told Emma that he wasn’t quite sure what the problem might be and that he would have to perform a few more tests to be sure.  

Emma wasn’t buying it. “Dr. Reyes,” Emma began, “I’m an old woman, but I’m not stupid. I’ve lived a long time, and over these years, I’ve come to develop an internal bullshit meter. Right now, my meter is telling me that you are full of shit.”

Looking her in the eye, Dr. Reyes asked, “Are there any family members waiting for you in the lobby?”

“Yes,” Emma said, “My niece Ka‘iulani.”

“I’ll go get her. I’ll  be right back.”

A short time later, Ka'iulani sat at her Aunty’s bedside. The two watched Dr. Reyes sitting uncomfortably as if he were fighting to get the words out. Finally, as he spoke, his eyes began to tear.

"Mrs. Kānehekili... you’ve been coming to me for many, many years, and I’ve come to know you as if you were my mother so…”

Emma reached out and held the doctor’s hand softly in her own. “It’s alright, Dr  Reyes. Just tell me straight. It's not as if we're breaking up and we’ll never see each other again, right?” Emma smiled.

“I wish it were that simple. You have pancreatic cancer. It's at a very late stage. Had we been able to diagnose it earlier, we might have been able to catch it and…” Dr. Reyes couldn’t finish. Ka'iulani began to cry until her Aunt stopped her.

“You have no time to cry, Ka‘iulani. There is work to do. I need you to prepare lunch for tomorrow at home. We'll have company, so you must make enough to feed the whole family, do you understand?”

Ka‘iulani quickly composed herself, took out a notepad from her purse, and began to list a menu for the following day.

“I’ll make every effort to see that you’re comfortable,” Dr. Reyes said.

Emma laughed, “Ha! There you go again, bullshitting me! I know what you’re trying to do, and I aloha you for that, but all that chemotherapy and tests and needles? You may as well pull the plug now. I’m too old, and my body won’t survive that. I’ll go with what dignity I have left, and I’ll die at home.”

On the drive home, Emma instructed her niece to call Aunty Mae, Emma’s older sister, and have her come to her house that evening. When Mae arrived with her husband, Luther, she sat them down and broke the news. They were just as devastated as Ka‘iulani had been earlier in the day and received the same reprimand as the girl.

“There is no time for tears, Mae. I want you to call everyone tonight and tell them to come here for lunch; there's an important announcement.”

 "You know how your daughter, Dianne, is Emma. Unless it’s about her, she won’t come,” Mae said.

“Then tell her it’s about money. She'll be here with her whole brood in tow,”  Emma replied sharply.

Mae made all the phone calls to the family while Ka‘iulani prepared lunch for everyone. The following day, when the gathering was underway, and everyone was well-fed for the afternoon, Ka‘iulani had them gather in the living room, where Emma sat in her favorite koa rocking chair.

“Aloha mai kakou, my precious ‘ohana. Mahalo to everyone for coming here on such short notice,” Emma said, looking over at her older sister. “Thank you, Mae, for calling everyone.”

Her older sister smiled and put her hand to her lips.

Looking at her niece, she said, “And you, my precious Ka‘iulani.  Thank you for feeding everyone.”

Taking a deep breath, Emma began, “Yesterday, I found out from my doctor that I have pancreatic cancer and that it has already spread too far and, as a result of that, I am beyond any treatment, save for the doctors giving me a shot from which I would never wake up.”

She gave her family a moment to let the news sink in. A few cried quietly, but many of her family were immediately grief-stricken and wept without restraint. Mae held on to Emma's hand as Emma regained her composure and spoke again.

“Because my husband Henry has passed, half of my money will go to my son, Thayer, and his family. Thayer, you’ve grown into a fine man and a great husband and father. Your papa would be very proud of you if he were alive today. Thank you for being a good son.” Thayer held on to his mother’s hands and cried. Realizing the truth of what his mother was saying broke his heart. She would never be there to share in her grandchildren’s first prom, graduation, or wedding. It was hard for him to take. He was finally led away by his wife, who lent him comfort as they stood in the comfort of their mother’s living room.

“Dianne,” Emma looked at her firstborn daughter. "Your money will come to you only after you have proven that you can hold a regular job for a year. I have an attorney who will look into the details of this. He'll get copies of your pay stub and the state notes from your checking account. He'll ensure you save some money to feed your family and pay your rent and other bills promptly. After that, you’ll get your inheritance, and not before.”

Sitting on an oversized couch directly across from her mother with her newborn child in her arms and her seven other children hovering about her, Dianne was not pleased. “Is this why you called me here? So that you could make me shame in front of everybody else?”

 No,” Emma said.

“Well, why then? Why the hell would you do something like this? Thayer gets his damned money, no problem. Why am I made to suffer?”

“I did this so that you and your husband wouldn’t use the money I give you to buy pakalolo instead of taking care of your family.”

“You go to hell, Mom! You go straight to hell!” Dianne was furious and couldn’t hold her tongue. The room went silent for a split second, but without warning, Mae’s husband, Luther, flew across the parlor and was nearly going to slap his niece for her open disrespect of her mother when Emma cried out.

“No, Luther! Let her go, just let her go!”

Withdrawing to his wife’s side, Luther stared at Dianne with a boiling fury. “Your mother ova hear dying, and you talk to her like that? You try to talk to your mother like data again, and I give you one wallop! Maaopo ia ‘oe?”

Dianne knew he meant business and could only utter a weak, “Yes, Uncle Luther.”

Dianne’s husband had become so emasculated by her over the years that he never quite knew when to step in or keep his mouth shut. His timing was always wrong, and he couldn't do the right thing in her eyes.

Glaring at her husband, Richard, she growled, “Thanks for defending me, Mr. Weak Ass.”  Richard could only respond with his cultivated look of helplessness. Emma continued with what she had to say.

“Mae, this house will go to you and Luther.”

Mae could only protest her sister’s decision, “Emma, you don’t need to leave the house to me. Luther and I already have our own home.”

“You two live in an apartment on Kinau Street, Mae. You take the house. It's only right that you should live in the place where you grew up. I'll hear no more about it. The matter is settled.”
 
Mae turned and smiled at Luther, who could only nod in agreement with his sister-in-law’s declaration.

Turning to her niece, Emma continued, “Ka‘iulani, my dear one,” With her arms outstretched, Emma reached for her niece.

“Ka‘iulani. You came to me as an infant child after your father and mother died so suddenly in that car accident. I raised you as my own, along with your two cousins. To you, I pass down all of our family histories. Our godly and chiefly lineage, our spirituality, and our hardship as people treated like house guests in our own land. You have always done all I've asked without complaining even once. This why I leave you my lei niho palaoa. It's a true mark of distinction as an ali‘i family who rightfully claim their heritage."

“Our name, ‘Kānehekili,’ is for the god of lightning. Our genealogy tells an old tale that the god Kānehekili took human form, came down from the heavens briefly, and lived among ordinary people. In his human form, he also became a victim of being flesh and blood. He met a human woman and fell deeply in love with her. They were married and had a child. The child grew up to become a great Ali‘i. His name was  Kānehekili, like his godly father. At the appropriate time, he was married to a pi‘o chiefess from Maui, and from that childhood came the many generations of family that would eventually trickle down to me and then to you. You will find the box in my bedroom closet on the top shelf. Bring it to me so I can place it around your neck.”

Ka‘iulani held on to her aunt and cried even more, saying, "Mama Emma, I would much rather that you live several more years here with me instead of having the lei niho palaoa! You keep it, Mama Emma, and you live; that’s all I care about.”

Richard whispered to his wife, “Isn’t that supposed to go to you first, being the oldest daughter?”

Dianne laughed out loud and now addressed her mother directly, “Geez, Mom, you’re still holding on to that old legend? I told you to take that whale tooth pendant to the Bishop Museum and trade it for money. It hasn’t done anything for our “Ali’i” status at all. What  joke!”

“Can you just shut up and show some damned respect?” Thayer yelled, “Mom is dying; all you can think about is yourself!”

“Shut up, momma’s boy,” Dianne countered.

“Shut up now!” Luther interrupted.

While the heated feelings began to permeate the room, Ka‘iulani was already looking through her aunt’s closet. The rectangular-shaped box seemed a bit light, considering its contents. Bringing the box to Emma, Ka’iulani placed it gently on her Aunty’s lap. As Emma removed the box cover and pulled back the wax paper, it was empty. There was no reaction on her face. She wasn't showing it if she was upset, infuriated, or mad with anger.

“Oh, my god, it’s gone!” Mae gasped.

The entire family gathered around Emma and couldn’t believe their eyes. Diane gloated and couldn’t hold her tongue as usual. “I told you.”

“Luther,” Mae commanded, “Call the police and report a theft!”

Sitting quietly in her rocking chair, Emma said, “It’s alright. There isn’t any need for that. Whoever took it is a member of this household, but they aren't true family.”

Ka‘iulani was confused. “ How can that be, Mama? It couldn’t have been any one of us. We've all been here in the living room the whole time.”

“There is no need for anyone to try to figure out who took it, so please, everyone, be calm and don’t get upset," Emma replied.

“How can we not be upset ?” Thayer asked, “That’s a family heirloom!”

Putting her hands up as a symbol to calm everyone down, Emma said, “Whoever took my lei niho palaoa will be at my ho‘olewa. All of you here will know who that person is because you will witness it yourselves.”

“Mom,” Dianne said, "Now you’re talking all that heebee-jeebee stuff. How are WE supposed to know who took your whale tooth pendant at your funeral?”

“Because,” Emma continued, "I will look that person in the eye from my casket, and by that, the thief will be marked by the gods of our family.”

“It wasn’t me!” Richard exclaimed, “I didn’t take it, so don’t look at me from your casket, for God’s sake, please, Emma!”

Ignoring her son-in-law, Emma took Ka‘iulani’s hands in hers and said, “At that moment, Ka‘iulani, when the thief is revealed, that person will fall dead at your feet.”

With no further explanation, Emma stood up from her rocking chair and retired to her bedroom to rest.

The following Thursday morning, as Ka‘iulani readied herself for work, she stopped in briefly to check up on her Aunty Emma and see if she needed anything before she left the house for the day. The old woman was fast asleep but appeared too ashen and gray. At that moment, Ka‘iulani noticed the odor of blood in the room. As she moved closer to her Aunt’s bedside, she saw that the quilt blanket was matted down with blood. Knowing that Emma had so few days remaining, she didn’t expect her to go this soon. Even as she was overcome by grief, she managed to call an ambulance first before contacting her Aunty Mae and her cousins, Thayer and Diane.

Arrangements for Emma’s services were made at Hawaiian Memorial Cemetery, where they would be held a month later at midday when the sun sat directly overhead and cast no shadow.

The funeral home exceeded its seating capacity and was standing-room-only, where people gathered within and without its walls. Flowers and wreaths were sent from numerous Hawaiian civic clubs and kanikapila groups to which Emma belonged. A letter of condolence was received from the Mayor’s office, where Emma had worked for many years, and it was read as part of the eulogy that Mae delivered.

Mae recounted fond memories of her childhood with Emma and how Emma managed to keep her maiden name even after she married her late husband, Henry. Mae would say it was unheard of during their particular era, but Emma never followed the norm and had a knack for doing things her way. As Mae put it, “Emma was just po‘o pa‘akiki.”

Thayer recounted his one and only “lickens” from his mother as the result of stealing candy from a local mom-and-pop store. Emma marched him back to the store the following day and offered her son's services in whatever way possible to the store owners.

“It was embarrassing for my mom because the store owners were also my mom’s classmates. Even after I raked their yard, washed their station wagon, and fed their chickens on the first day, I still got lickens from my mom when I got home.”

“But the part that Thayer forgot,” Dianne said when her turn came to speak, “Is when Papa came home and found out from Mom what Thayer did! He got worse lickens! I shouldn’t talk because of all my lickens from Papa and Mom…  I deserved it. I was rotten, I really was."

Luther also gave his ode of thanks to Emma, saying that Emma would help Mae and himself meet secretly when their parents had forbidden them to see each other because of his practice as a pugilist, which they disapproved of.

“Emma Kānehekili,” Dr. Reyes said, “was the most hard-headed woman I’ve ever known. She drove me crazy because she would never listen to anything I told her, and it was utterly frustrating. However, being far away from my home and missing my parents, Emma always ensured that there was a place for me at her dinner table whenever I felt homesick or wanted company. I’ve never felt such unconditional love from someone who expected nothing back except your friendship. I’ll miss the smile that Emma always gave me while she was busting my balls at the same time. There won’t ever be anyone like her. I’m going to miss her. I’m going to miss her a lot.”

After the eulogy, Ka‘iulani sang her Aunty Emma’s favorite song,  “Ua Like No A Like,” which did not leave a dry eye in the house.

Emma also had friends in the United Japanese Society who came to her services and offered a lively Taiko drum performance from their youth group. After that, a young Japanese boy came forward and offered a song in his native language called “Haha Yo,” meaning “Mother.”

The services for Emma reached such an uplifting crescendo that everyone forgot about the old woman’s dire prediction concerning the thief who had stolen her lei niho palaoa. Toward the end, the funeral director announced that the last viewing was bout to take place and that, since there was such a large volume of people in attendance, only the immediate family would be allowed to remain to say their last goodbyes. No one disagreed, and all in attendance complied with the family’s wishes. 
With that done, the pallbearers, Luther, Thayer, Richard, Dr. Reyes, and Dianne’s two sons, Haloa and Halauola, were ready to bring Emma’s casket out to the hearse. Everything went smoothly without incident as the vehicle brought Emma to the top of the hill, where she would be buried in an area facing directly toward the Ko‘olau Mountains. The immediate family sat under the large green tent as Emma’s casket was brought to its final resting place, where she would be lowered into the earth from whence she came.

Ka‘iulani stood up and began to sing, “Ha‘aheo e ka ua i na pali… ke nihi a‘ la i ka nahele…”

Soon everyone joined in, “E ‘uhai ana paha i ka liko… pua ‘ahihi lehua o uka… aloha ‘oe… aloha ‘oe…e ke onaona noho i ka lipo… one fond embrace… a ho‘i a‘e au… until we meet again…”

Standing now as the casket was brought to where it would be placed on the hydraulic lift, the crowd of people wept openly after offering such a heartfelt tribute in song to the one person who meant so much to them and because their lives would be a bit lonely now that she had passed into the realm of her ancestors.

A small gust of wind blew through the area as the pallbearers were about to place the casket onto the lift. In the next second, another wind whipped up suddenly through the gathering of people so strongly that it knocked some off balance. The third wind was like a giant fist toppling everything not nailed down. It stirred for a moment and, without warning, ripped the green tent from the spikes, which, up until that moment, held the tent down firm in the grass. The last wind seemed to specifically whip itself around the pallbearers in a miniature tornado, which caused blades of freshly mowed grass to blind them and throw them off balance.

Before they knew what was happening, the men dropped the casket on its left side just a few feet from where the immediate family was seated. The lid to the casket came off of its hinges and spilled Emma’s body halfway onto the grass. Her head snapped suddenly to the left and caused her eyes to fly open. Everyone was horrified to see that Emma’s eyes were staring directly at her older sister, Mae. 

Everyone moved back, fearing that whatever would happen to Mae might also happen to them if they were standing too close to her. No matter where Mae moved, her sister’s eyes followed. Mae screamed at the top of her lungs. Luther tried to grab her, but she kept pushing him away, yelling at him to leave her alone.

Torrents of rain suddenly fell, and thunder and lightning appeared out of nowhere. Mae only had a second to stop and look at the dark cloud that formed directly above her in the heavens. They seemed to be rolling furiously and forming into some ominous shape. The crowd gathered there and witnessed the unusual events in front of them. A more oversized, darker shape formed in the clouds, taking the guise of a man wearing a mahi‘ole and an ahu‘ula; Mae knew that it could only be one person, Kānehekili. The god of lightning. She stood there frozen in fear as Kānehekili extended his right hand out to one cloud and then extended his left hand out to another cloud. From both of these, he gathered lightning in his palms. Looking at Mae, Kānehekili clapped both hands together and sent a searing bolt of lightning directly toward Mae, splitting her right down the middle.

A second later, she fell dead at Ka‘iulani’s feet. The impact of hitting the ground almost caused Mae’s body to slide off and separate into two pieces. The only thing preventing that was Mae’s shoulder purse slung across her chest, which held her body together. The lighting had opened a gaping hole into the bottom of her purse, and there, as clear as day, everyone could see the contents of Mae’s shoulder purse. It was the lei niho palaoa, fully intact and unharmed.

............

Later that evening, with Dr. Reyes to keep her company, Ka'iulani read the letter from her Aunty Emma, instructing her to open it only on the day after her funeral services were completed. "It's funny," Doctor Reyes said to Ka'iulani before she began to read the letter. "It seems that during the embalming process, your aunt's eyes would not move the way they usually would." Shaking his head, he smiled, "Until the end, hard-headed."




Dearest Ka‘iulani,

If you are reading this letter, then you must know that your Aunt Mae has been found out as the one who stole the lei niho palaoa, and as of this writing, she is also dead. As I have said once before, the thief is a member of our household but is not blood family to us. This is why the lei niho palaoa was given to me, not my older sister, Mae. She was not blood. She was adopted as a child and was never told about who she indeed was per the instructions of our mother, Tutu Wawahilani. Our mother was a kind and gentle woman who believed in sparing the feelings of others rather than hurting or insulting them directly.

 After learning the truth, I had to be kind to Mae and make her feel more important than ever. I did as much as I could so that she would never want for anything. I did not love Mae any less. In fact, we loved her more. This is why the lei niho palaoa could not be passed on to her. The lei niho palaoa was given to you; it’s your blood right to have it.

Please see to it that someone checks in on Luther again and again. Oh, how he must be suffering.

Remember how much I love you, my dearest Ka‘iulani.

All My Love,

Aun y Emma



 

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