Ghosts Next Door

Ghosts Next Door
by Lopaka Kapanui

Sep 14, 2020

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2020 #47

 Most of the big money people I've met or know are great people, friendly, funny, outgoing, but when it comes down to the money business they're all about, they are ruthless.

Those I call the truly rich don't appear to be so, because they don't dress or drive the part. These are the people who have been and will be wealthy in perpetuity long after they're gone. George Bose Henry is a very unassuming man who I met in two thousand and five. He was on my ghost tour, and afterward, he invited me to have dinner with himself and his wife Jennifer. It was fun to be in their company because we had so much in common, being the same age. When we finally left Zippy's, the sun was coming up. George and I stayed in touch. He dabbled in real estate or knew people who would buy a house or business that needed their place blessed. George always called me and asked for my services. I cannot count the times that I practically ran away from him whenever he tried to pay me. "I don't ask for money, George, I told you that!" I'm in a full sprint to my car, and he's hot on my tail.

"I lettered all four years in track and field in high school, pal; you're gonna take the money!" He always caught up to me before I could drive off.

Two thousand and twelve, George called me to his house in Niu Valley; he was distraught. His wife went for her usual check-up, and the doctors found that she had cervical cancer. That wasn't all; she also had brain cancer. "Use your gift, my friend; money is no object. Bless her, make a miracle, I can't live without Jennifer."

"Death is life's inevitability, just as being born and growing old is inevitable," I choked back my tears. "No amount of money will change that."

"George!" Jennifer walked into the room after hearing her husband's request. "You can't ask that!"

She held George in her arms while he sat at his business desk. It was the first time since I've known them both that I saw them cry like that. Usually, it was from tears of laughter or a sad movie, but not like this. Jennifer reached out and grabbed my hand and squeezed it. She nodded toward her husband and gave me a look of resignation. I got the hint. I emptied the purified rainwater from the vile I wore around my neck on my open palm and placed it on the crown of George's head and blessed him. Jennifer Henry passed away six months later, but she made sure that the transition would be as easy as possible for her husband in that short amount of time. Jennifer had only three requests for her services, one that she be cremated and kept at home. Two that there be a celebration, no eulogy, no speeches, and remembrances, just a festival as if it were a huge birthday party. Three, to close the event, George had to play the song they danced to on their first date, "When will I see you again?"



Life went on, and George kept himself busy by traveling to places that he and Jennifer never had a chance to go. "Of all the places that you think I would find romance, it should have been in Italy or France, but it was right here in Hawaii." He laughed.

He called me early one morning to meet him at Starbucks so he could share the exciting news. "Her name is Sherry," he told me while opening my croissant package and spreading butter on the two pieces. He placed napkins in front of me and put my dragonfruit tea on my left. He caught himself and shook his head. "Ugh, sorry, man, old habits, you know?"

"No, problem, bro. It's nice being served; I just wished you were prettier," I winked.

"Shut up, Jerk," He laughed.

"So, Sherry, huh?" I took a bite of the buttered croissant and noticed a tall local Japanese girl headed our way. Jet black hair, tanned skin, and green eyes. Not contacts, but her own for real green eyes. She was stunning; she came upon George's side and put her hand on his shoulder. He looked up and stood immediately. I did the same, of course. I bowed slightly, and George made the introductions, "Sherry, this is my friend, the one I told you about,"

"Aloha," I bowed again.

"Aloha? Is that how Hawaiians greet?" Her curiosity is meant to be cute for those who don't know her, but I do; I recognize the type right away. Her cosplay, anime veneer, is a veil meant to hide her real self, a gold-digging bitch. 

"Anyone who's lived here long enough knows that it's how everyone greets one another, Hawaiian or not. Where are you from?" I deadpanned.

"Hawaii Kai," she curtsied and winked while simultaneously affecting a peace sign against the side of her face.

"Must be far south Hawaii-Kai," I chuckled with no facial expression. George didn't catch any of the subtleties. How could he? Sherry had him wrapped around her finger and a few of her other body parts. 

"I asked you to come here so you could meet Sherry, but also she's been feeling and seeing some strange things around the house too,"

"Around what house?" I must have squeaked the question too loud.

"Georgie and I met at the Cosplay convention six months ago, I gave him such a hard time, but I didn't know he sponsored the convention this year. I felt so bad, so I took him to dinner to say I'm sorry. He was so nice; he wouldn't let me pay for dinner. Pretty soon, we fell in love, and then he asked me to move in with him," she snuggled up against him and wrinkled her nose. 

"Anyway, Sherry has been spooked out the past few months, seeing ghosts in the house really," 

"You want me to bless it, George, I can do it, no problem," I offered.

"Well, Sherry already called someone, but I wanted you to meet him, you know? Check him out; let me know if you think he's legit. Sherry swears by him, but I don't know," Everything inside me said to reach across the table and smack George in the face and scream at him to wake up!

"He hurt my feelings, " Sherry moaned. "I know you're Georgie's friend, but I wanted someone who is for real, you know?" Before I could tell her where to shove her hello-kitty, a young local Japanese man walked up to the table and plopped himself down next to George. "This is Yuki; he is my personal psychic and spiritual guru. I trust him 100%."

His out of style, Keith Partridge hair grated on my nerves, as did his aviation sunglasses. His buttoned-down shirt revealed his pigeon chest was covered with several chains that had no real purpose. Bell-bottomed jeans, Jesus sandals, what a piece of work. "George tells us you're some Kahuna?"

"Anata o fakku," I replied. Yuki's eyes opened wide, as did Sherry's. 

"I didn't know you spoke Japanese, bro? What are you guys saying?' George was genuinely shocked.

"I'm telling Sherry that Yuki is indeed as talented as Sherry says he is," I smiled at my old friend. "I got a business call in a couple of minutes; I gotta go. Keep me posted, okay?" We hugged, and then I turned to Sherry and Yuki and bowed very slightly. They wouldn't look at me.


I couldn't bring myself to talk to George after. There was nothing I could say that would change his mind about Sherry and Yuki, the fucktard psychic. He would have to find out on his own, at least that's what I thought. I had a lot of sleepless nights; I couldn't get past the REM. I'd find myself sitting up in bed or pacing the floor until sunrise; only then could I sleep somewhat. One night, I craved Natto, so I went to my usual source, Don Quixote. It's always fun to see the looks I get from the cashiers when they see my purchase. "Dude, you eat that stuff?"

"Of course, it's good for your health, and it prevents the onset of colon cancer," that's always my joyous reply; they look at me like I'm crazy. I walked over to Pearl's for a meat jun plate, where I would spread generous amounts of Natto on the rice. I sat in a booth where the seats are high, so you can't see who is sitting there, but you, as the patron, can see who comes in and out the door.  I glanced up for a second and who should come in, holding hands, kissing, and ass grabbing but Sherry and Yuki. They were drunk; you could smell it on them, and you could see how flush their faces were. They ordered their food and asked the girl if she would bring it to them since they were a little tipsy. I said nothing, and I did nothing. Instead, I took pictures with my phone and sent them straight to George. In less than a second, he texted back. "I know,"

"What the fuck do you mean you know?" I texted back.


He called back instead of texting, and I answered right away. "Sherry brought Yuki over to the house that night, and the first thing he said was that to get rid of the ghosts, we had to throw out Jeniffer's ashes. He grabs her urn and heads to the kitchen sink to dump Jennifer's remains out; I had to kick his ass. What's worse is Sherry defended him, like she sat on the floor with Yuki and nursed his black eye, and broken nose, and his other black eye and split lip. I kinda figured by then that she was a gold digger and that they were going to scam me for more money."

"I'm right here," I told him. "I'm right here; you want me to beat his ass even more?"

"Nah, no sense getting your hands dirty," he moaned. Just then, the girl from behind the counter walked over and handed Sherry her order. The two of them walked out the door, and I quickly told George, "I'm still kinda hungry, man, meet me at SoraBol, okay?"

I hung up and headed outside to see if I could catch up to Sherry and Yuki; I figured I owed him a beat down on behalf of Jennifer as well. I never got the chance; those two were a lot more drunk than I thought. Without looking, they stepped into the crosswalk and got plowed over by three delivery trucks, one right after the other. The sound was sickening because they went right under the wheels. When I told George about it, later on, his only reply was, "Yeah, I should have seen the signs."

"What do you mean?" I asked him.

He rolled up his sleeve on his right arm and revealed angry bite marks all up and down. "Jennifer used to do this to me whenever we disagreed; she'd leave just enough of an impact to make an impression. It was playful, not out of anger. These started to appear once I brought Sherry home, I was blinded, I didn't get the hint."

"Score one for Jennifer," I smiled and smacked George on the shoulder.

"By the way, what DID you say to Yuki that day you met him?"

"I told him to go fuck himself,"

"You knew," George nodded. "I'm sorry man,"

"No need for sorry, just stop that shit," I shook my head. "Eat your food,"


The next day, there was a significant increase in money on my bank account. At the same time, I received a text from George. "Tired of chasing a man who obviously can't run, so here you go. Take it because Jennifer would want you to."