Ghosts Next Door

Ghosts Next Door
by Lopaka Kapanui

Sep 6, 2020

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2020 #55


We got our first Soundlite HR-6 egg-shaped radio headphones. I had the blue one, and 'Noodles' (short for fried noodles) got the red ones. They came with Soundlite and carry all cases in the same color.

Noodles and I were high up in the mango tree sitting in our adjacent branches where we sat and ate our deviled ham sandwiches. Below us was a platform we built from old wood scraps from some apple crates in our garage. On it sat my dad's old Coleman beer cooler, where we kept our RC Colas on ice. Noodles and I listened as the KKUA D.J. interrupted the current music broadcast for a special announcement. 

"We at KKUA refuse to play any Kalapana songs for the rest of the week. Stay tuned this Friday when we explain to you, the listeners, why we've taken this stance," the announcement was so sudden and filled with such ire that it took our breath away. KKUA was THE radio station to listen to back then. Why would they do that? Noodles and I turned the station dial on the left side of our headphones to another station to listen to our favorite Kalapana tunes. But after every song, we switched back to KKUA in case we missed anything; of course, we didn't. Friday couldn't have come soon enough. At 10 am, DJ Ron Wood announced that KKUA would continue to refuse to air any songs by Kalapana unless they agreed to put on a concert for the Honolulu populace. A dramatic pause kept us on edge for an eternal second. "Kalapana has agreed to our demands. Kalapana will put on a concert at the Waikiki Shell for three nights, June 25, 26, and 27 !" It was all one big promotional scheme that worked. With 25,000 people in attendance, that weekend was a sold-out show for all three dates. 

Noodles and I forgot where we were for a second; we were so happy about the announcement that we jumped off our respective branches and landed on our makeshift platform, where we whooped, hollered, and hugged one another while simultaneously jumping up and down. The wood from the apple crates comes from cheap pine. Although it held up a Coleman cooler filled with ice and soda, it wasn't going to bear the extra stress of two twelve-year-olds jumping up and down on it. The entire platform creaked once and gave way beneath our feet. Noodles and I perched pretty high up in the mango tree near the top. The plummet for both of us was enough to cause our deaths when we hit bottom. Noodles' death was merciful; he died right away. Me? I suffered for a little bit, trying to catch my breath and being horrified at my broken bones sticking out of my skin.


TODAY 2020

The people living in my house are nosey; they keep peeking out their windows, or they come out into the backyard and stare up at me and Noodles sitting high up in the tree, listening to the music on our egg-shaped headphones. We've tried to climb down from the tree and go inside for lunch, but we can't. For some reason, we're stuck in our mango tree in the middle of Waipahu.

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