He smelled like VO5 most times, but he also had that Vitalis aroma about him.
For his age, Adolpho was well-dressed all the time. Immaculately pressed slacks, spit-shined shoes, and a dress shirt of subdued colors. The rings he wore held the crest of the organization he belonged to, but they weren't gold. Instead, they were stand-out sterling silver. His hair was thick and slicked back, and even though he was balding at the crown, it added to his already distinguished look rather than taking away from it. In my day, Adolpho would be referred to as the old Filipino man who smelled like a barber shop. But he was much more than that. You see, you knew when Adolpho was in the area once you saw his 1967 Buick Riviera parked on the street. More than likely, he would be walking up and down the breezeway between the palace and the state capitol, waiting for someone to rob him. He was an expert at calling attention to himself and playing the victim. This is why he dressed the way he did; it was like casting a shiny bright object in the water to call attention to the barracuda to come to take a bite. It was usually a lone punk or a puffed-up one with the arbitrary friend in tow who approached Adolpho. He played along perfectly, begging not to be harmed. All he needed was for the aggressor to touch him in some way, shape, or form, and he would do the rest. Tonight, it's a five-foot-tall punk, hopped up on drugs and very overconfident. He's on a skateboard, carrying a thin steel rod twirling it around through his fingers. Adolpho is hobbling about when the punk skates right behind him and knocks him over. The punk immediately rifles through the old man's pockets and is surprised by the elderly gentleman's steel grip on his arm. It's painful, and he can't shake him loose. To his horror, the Adolpho morphs into a hideous bat-like creature with a long tongue. He crushes the punk's arms and legs so he can't move and quickly goes to work by sucking out the brain fluid first before it drains the body from every single drop of blood. Now you know. If you see a well-dressed elderly Filipino man lurking about late at night on his own, leave him alone and keep walking. He is probably an Aswang, looking for a meal.
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17A Productions Presents
LOPAKA KAPANUI - CHICKEN SKIN GHOST STORIES
A LIVE and IN-PERSON storytelling concert at the historic Hawaii Theatre. This master storyteller is one of Hawaii's most popular teller of tales and has been in the business of scaring people for more than 20 years. Lopaka is terrifically skilled at provoking that sudden chill going down one's back or causing the small hairs on your arms to stand up. Chicken skin is what we call it in Hawai'i. Others might refer to it as chills or goosebumps. Sharing real accounts of Hawaii's supernatural culture, Lopaka often leaves audience members questioning the darkness on their drive home and anxiously leaving the light on at bedtime.
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