100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. #91. HEAD.

  You know this story not because it's an urban legend but because it's real and happened to someone who could be our friend, brother, cousin, uncle, or father.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. #90. Cadillac.

 CADILLAC COMES BACK

Because of the adrenalin born out of my fear, I climbed the wrong telephone pole. I'd meant to climb the newer concrete pole, which was more massive, dug deep, and practically unmovable. But no, the 1966 Cadillac Hearse Fleetwood was hot on my heels, and the wooden telephone pole was the closest, so I climbed up on it because my mortality was at stake.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. #89. Lei.

She hated her English name and refused to be acknowledged by it or to answer it.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. #88. Hina.

 HINA 

The missionary family built their home at the edge of old Ko'olina near a stretch of sand that fell under the watchful shade of Waimanalo and Pili 'O Kahe. The heathens of the Wai'anae ahupua'a needed to hear the word of God and repent their lives of savagery and wanton lust among one another.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. #87. The Four Game.

 In a group, there are those committed to the game.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To 2024. #86. Lei Makana.

 My hands no longer have the dexterity they once did when weaving a lei of different flowers and ferns, which was as effortless as breathing.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. #85. Two Hermans.

 The accident was horrible, and I was dumbstruck as it unfolded in front of me. An errant driver in his Cadillac SUV with no care for his safety or anyone else's came at an alarming rate of speed from behind me.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. #84

 KA MEA

WAHI: KE ALA NUI 'O PUNCHBOWL


People like me have a healthy life or try to, even though we have the thing. Other people who have the thing make millions of dollars off of it, or at least they claim they do.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. #83. Torch.

 Marie Peters met me in her Waipahu home garage, dressed in an 80s-style one-piece jumpsuit. She led me to a round table. "Sit," she pointed to the fold-out chair opposite, where she took a seat. "I wanted to show you something first before we talked."

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. #82. Mākou.

 They donʻt hide in the shadows as we expected them to, as we see in investigative videos on social media.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. #81. Uncle Thomas.

 1

Because of my Uncle Thomas, my parents could buy the family station wagon at a reasonable price.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. #80. Aupuni Street. 3.

 It was the last evening of the final lesson.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. #79. Aupuni Street 2.

The third year was here before I knew it. Mom became more reflective for some reason.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. #78. Aupuni Street.

The time of my life was spent in Orlando, Florida, where I had a great job and an incredible nightlife.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. #77. Reese.

The Martins, the Corderos', and the Medeiros were our neighbors on that small plot second to the corner house at the end of Kaukamana Street, crossing Kula'aupuni Road.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. # 76. Pohina.

 Pōhina was worried that his acceptance letter to the school he applied to would never arrive.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. #75. Mahkthaaahmpsen.

 My brother Kainoa had autism, but growing up, my folks told me that he was in his own space and that he'd be fine.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. #74. Laumeki 5.

 The existence of these people flew on the tongues of those who spread the rumors, but it wasn't a rumor because here they were in front of him.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. #73. Laumeki 4.

 Lisa was finally found by another couple who lived nearby.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. #72. Laumeki 3.

 Raymond knew he had something he couldn't hold on to.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. #71. Laumeki 2.

 Somewhere in the pitch black, Raymond heard drums and then chanting.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. #70. Laumeki.

 The old fishing trail was only known to those who lived in Waipio Valley.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. #69. Koamalu.

 Like myself, the men in our kauhale took pride in saying that we fought alongside Koamalu in many campaigns against our enemies.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. #68. Get Over It.

 Some of us peak in high school, then graduate, and real-life seeps in.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. #67. Hope For Home.

 Having these last few beers on the most beautiful day I've seen in a while was difficult. 

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. #66. Hiram.

 It was exhausting to watch.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. #65. Desmond.

It wasn't magic; it was love.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. #64. Rua.

 I hate these occasions because they bring out the worst in people. 

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. #63. Pele.

 It was a sarong she wore, but not like the gaudy-colored ones you find in some touristy shop off the beaten path.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. #62. Kakahiaka.

Everyone was inside having Sunday brunch.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. #61. Slaps.

When you hear someone get slapped across the face enough, it sounds like heavy droplets of rain striking the bare sidewalk outside your house.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. #60. Loku.

 No matter the game, konāne, kilu, ho'opāpā, the game's stakes are what mattered.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. #59. Romy.

 If my memory serves me correctly, it was May 1981.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. #58. Kawelu.

 

When I had my first kiss, I heard bells from the nearby Buddhist temple.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. #57. Dead Vibrations.

 There are books with thick pages filled with knowledge that we have yet to learn.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. #56. Emotions.

 She sat up next to me in bed.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. #55. Breathe.

I lay quietly on my bare wooden floor.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. #54. Life Condition.

 In Buddhism, we say that man's oneness and environment are reflected in man himself and his life condition or state of being.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. #53. Chanelling In. 3

 "How long does your ex usually hang out after you escape your office?" I asked. 

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. #52. Chanelling In 2.

 "Who the fuck are you?" She demanded. "What happened to Maude and Harry?"

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. #51. Chanelling In.

 Why does it matter that the sidewalks on this street are littered with people with nowhere to go, and why is it my problem?

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. #50. Five Grams.

 It was one of those nights when the smoke circle was needed.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. #49. Nani Pololū.

Pololū valley. The sight of it hits you like a spiritual punch in the face, except it's in the heart. Pololū hits you all at once with everything it has. The entirety of it comes right at you: history, people living, and otherwise. That's the draw for those whose hearts and minds are wide open. By the way, I'm Terrence Kaina. With a name like Terrence, you already know I graduated from a public school. My parents scraped up enough money to send me to a community college for a two-year AA degree in Hawaiian studies. The remaining years at UH Manoa were on my own dime, which meant a lifetime of paying back a student loan unless I died. Which meant my issue would inherit my debt. Gotta love the system. 

I'm on a huaka'i on Hawai'i island for a personal study project over the summer, which is solely for extra credit toward my degree. I'm visiting all the historical locations where Kamehameha the Great moved about, made decisions, laughed, loved, and, yes, killed people and sacrificed them to his gods. The study was about his formidable years before his ascension to become the absolute ruler of the pae'āina. In visiting these places, I had to keep reminding myself that there were only two modes of transportation during the great chief's time: foot and canoe. I look at the vast plains and miles and miles of open lava fields and pili grass for as far as the eye can discern, and I have to shake my head. Walking around the Ala Moana shopping center, my feet get worn in less than an hour. Our ancient ancestors did it all the time. Then, paddle a canoe for basic transportation to get to and from wherever you're going while, at the same time, living under the restrictions of certain kapu, which you, as the everyday commoner, had to remember because it meant your life and death. 

That is why Pololū Valley caught me by surprise. I wasn't looking at it initially because of how hot it was. More concerned about getting a gulp of cold water down my gullet, I threw back the flask like a shot glass and let the liquid wash down. Then, I saw it—the entirety of it. In quiet awe, my body relaxed, and my hands fell to my sides. Good thing my flask was strapped to my hand; otherwise, I would have dropped it, and it wouldn't have mattered. 

"I wanna build a home here and live out the rest of my days," I thought. "I'll die here in the end, and I'll be a part of this earth, this lepo where I can see Pololū."

My i-Watch buzzed on my wrist. It was time to visit a man by the last name of Desha (Deshay), who is one of the direct descendants of Kamehameha The Great. I've got an hour to meet him at Pu'ukoholā heiau. I turned directly to leave, and I practically mowed someone down who was coming up behind me. We both screamed in surprise and shock. Whoever she was, she recovered faster than I did.

"What the fuck, man," she tsked. "Fucking shit, are you trying to kill me or something?"

"What are you doing walking right up behind me?" I retorted.

"I was going to ask you if you wouldn't mind moving so I could take a picture of the valley, but you turned around and fucking tackled me!" She was surprised, pissed, and a little bit hurt, but mostly pissed.

"I'm sorry," I dusted myself off. "I guess it's my fault,"

"Damned fucking straight, it's your fault," her tone wasn't as acerbic as it was a second ago. I feebly attempted to help her to her feet, which she accepted. 

"I'll get out of your way; sorry again," I left, but she stopped me. 

"If you care at all, my name is Kaluhea," she extended her hand.

"My name isn't as fragrant as yours," I replied, taking her hand in mine. "It's Terrence."

She broke down laughing, looking at me in disbelief. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to laugh, but considering what happened and the timing, that's really funny!"

I didn't get it, but I also had to get somewhere and quick. "Well, I'll leave you to it. Have a good day, and be safe!"

I was halfway to my rental when Kaluhea came running up behind me. "Hey, you dropped your flask,"

"Oh," I patted myself and realized she was right. I could have sworn it was strapped to my hand when I drank from it. "Thanks, I didn't realize I'd lost it,"

"Ok, well, I'm on my way to Pu'ukoholā," she said while walking to her jeep. "I have an interview with someone from the Desha family."

"So do I," I said. "About Kamehameha,"

"Me too!" She squealed. "Who knew?"

Really, who knew? To make a long story short, we both interviewed the same person, who was nice enough and patient enough to answer all of our questions, no matter how big or small. After that, we headed to Kona, where I insisted on treating her to dinner since I was the one who knocked her down. To be fair, she insisted on buying the drinks since she was the one who walked up behind me, not knowing that I'd turned around and plow her over.  In the conversation, I found out that she was there for a similar reason: extra credit for her Hawaiian studies class regarding the life of Kamehameha in the Kohala, Waipio, and Pololū areas. 

"I could buy a house and retire there and live out the rest of my days," we both said at the same time.

At that moment, I realized that the mana of Pololū Valley must have brought Kaluhea and me together—not in the romantic sense where harps played and birds sang, but in one big literal collision, almost like a wake-up call. 

Mahalo Pololū, for planting the seed.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. #48. Kaulima.

 My name is Murray Alcot. I took over as funeral director at a crumbling funeral home that had seen its last days.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. #47. Occult 5.

 There's me, finally, Larry Nahinu. A very reluctant Kahuna who didn't want the life but had no choice.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. #46. Occult 4.

 Officer Reginald Kahl loved the ocean, especially since he began working in the newly created occult division.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. #45. Occult 3.

After the powers that be reamed Officers Kahl and Gushiken sideways from Sunday, Chaplain Oku'u spoke on their behalf when the time came.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. #44. Occult 2.

 The way that possessions are being portrayed in the media, and by media, I mean the internet, social media, and film, is that the holy person who has been called to address the entity causing the possession always ends up being possessed themselves, because of some moral transgression from their past that has never been truly resolved.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. #43. Occult.

Of course, there's no official occult division within the confines of the Honolulu Police Department because, as far as we know, there have never been any occult killings or unsolved occult murders. So, why would they bother with me, of all people?

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. #41. Molly.

 Molly Riley moved to the islands twenty years ago after purchasing an acreage of land on which she and her husband had a house built, to which they subsequently moved themselves and their family. The fact that more people brought up land around them and built their own dwellings made Molly feel safe about having neighbors nearby. The land was on the island of Kaua'i. Much protest was created by the Hawaiians and the locals because, throughout history, it was proven that the land was an ancient burial ground. However, developers and the powers that be suddenly become deaf and blind in those matters. Molly's husband, Richard, was one of those developers, and he had more than a hand involved in the machinations of what he and his investors hoped would be a sprawling neighborhood. By the time Richard was killed in a freak accident, much of the sacred land had been tilled, turned over, and rented asunder by the development.

On the contrary, Molly fell in love with the culture, people, food, and lifestyle. She enrolled her children in a Hawaiian language immersion school and took a few classes herself. She tried to get Richard involved as much as possible, but all his attention was focused on development. At the same time, something about the estate felt off. Molly could not pinpoint a particular thing, but something felt wrong. There was a constant feeling of uneasiness, especially at night. Her children insisted on sleeping in the same room with the lights on. Even the nanny walked around with her crucifix in her fingers, rubbing on it and praying silently. 

One morning on the job site, a sinkhole appeared out of nowhere and took a few pieces of heavy equipment and Richard. The equipment was recovered, but Richard's body was never found. Simultaneously, things became more pronounced at the Riley estate. Molly and the children would hear disembodied voices in Hawaiian, calling their names or pitiful wailing and moaning. Most disturbing were the manifestations of people standing stoically about the house and then disappearing. It was only when the spirits began to physically do things that Molly felt enough was enough, so she sought help from the Hawaiian and local community. When the community realized where she lived and who she was, they refused to help. She was shunned by the other parents at her children's school, and people would not even look at her in public. Only through one of her children's kumu from a chat window online was she finally able to find help.

So, leaving her children in the care of their nanny, Molly flew to Oahu. After procuring her rent-a-car, she used the online map to find the address where she needed to go. 

"That's my story," Molly said. "I hope you can help me."

Tiny looked at Ivan, who looked at Rita, who looked at Boy.

 "Everyone in the state, Hawaiian or not, knows that the land there is an ancient burial ground, a massive one. I'm not sure how you couldn't have known that?" Boy said.

"My late husband Richard handled everything," Molly said. "We just packed up and moved; that was my contribution to the plan."

"He's the one that was on the news that got sucked into that sinkhole with the bulldozers and everything else?" Boy wanted to confirm. 

"Yes," too tired and exhausted to hide her emotions, Molly let her tears fall. "I had a memorial erected on that spot. It's his final resting place."

"So, what do you need from me, Molly?" Boy leaned forward, pouring some whiskey into a shot glass he handed her.

Taking the shot and throwing it back, Molly took a second to let it burn down her throat. "I need someone to bless my estate and make these spirits go away and leave us alone,"

"Molly, I can't help you," Boy said, making sure Molly looked him in the eye.

"What do you mean?" Molly was incredulous. "You can't do a simple blessing to get rid of these spirits?"

"This is beyond your comprehension; I can't help you because your entire estate is built on burial grounds. Which means these are spirits that are attached to the land. We as the living are supposed to adjust for them, not the other way around."

"It's not as if it's a cemetery or a graveyard; as you just said, it's burial grounds," Molly began to be upset.

"It's the same thing. Just because there are no headstones doesn't mean it's less important. Ancient Hawaiian ancestors are buried there. Like your ancestors, they are buried in their graveyards and cemeteries. You even erected a memorial to your husband on that same piece of land. I'm surprised you haven't seen the irony in that." Boy concluded. "You want all the spiritual activity to stop? Tear down your estate or move somewhere else. That's my advice."

~

In less than a year, Molly sold the estate and moved to Oahu. She found a nice place on the slopes of Makiki for herself, her children, and her nanny. Life was as usual every day. She didn't begrudge Boy's advice, because he spoke to her with compassion and not judgement but with a bit of strictness, like a father. On Kaua'i and throughout the Hawaiian archipelago, the battle continues. 

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. #40. Building.

The building on the corner of Kina'u and Maikiki sat unoccupied for a long time, but the building and its grounds never aged.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. #39. Possessed Ten Million.

The prize was ten million dollars.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. #38. Unbless.

 The most interesting thing about blessing a place is sometimes having to do the opposite—remove the sanctity from a location.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. #37. Amaya.

 In 1984, Damien Medeiros graduated high school with no honors, distinctions, or mentions of achievements. He just graduated as an average everyday student who fulfilled the requirements to receive his diploma after four years of high school.

---

Afterward, at the exhibition hall, everyone stood in their assigned spots, waiting to be congratulated by family and friends. No one came to see Damien except for his parents and a few of his teachers. There were people he talked to in school, but none wanted to delve beyond casual conversations. It was almost as if everyone kept Damien at arm's length. The following morning after graduation, Damien was still recovering from an overdose of soda and as much pizza as he wanted to eat. He even got to stay up for as long as he wanted, watching HBO until he couldn't keep his eyes open. It was 1 pm on a Saturday when Damien rolled out of bed. On his way to the bathroom, his father, Ezra, informed him that he would now have to get a job and help contribute to the bills and other matters. He found work at the local Taco Tyme the following day and started work that evening. In no time, Damien was promoted to swing manager, which gave him a boost in confidence he'd never had. Whenever he saw any of his former classmates in line, he'd have one of his employees service them at the cash register and just glare at them until they recognized him and greeted him. Damien would feign ignorance and pretend not to know them. 

In high school, there was Amaya Mikuni. She didn't care if anyone paid attention to her or liked her. She preferred it that way. After she received her diploma at graduation, she left and went out to a club in Waikiki, using a fake I.D. She got drunk and had sex with a random stranger, kicking him out of her hotel room once it was over. Now, a year after high school, Amaya was in danger of being kicked out of the house herself because of her party-all-night and sleep-all-day habits. On the morning that she applied at Taco Tyme, Damien sat at the beach on his day off. The store was short-staffed, and so the manager hired Amaya on the spot. If Damien had anything to do with the hiring process, Amaya's application would have been tossed in the trash once she walked out the door. 

When Damien arrived to manage his swing shift two days later, he was rooted to the spot when he saw Amaya on the line preparing Tacos and burritos. 

"What the fuck is she doing here?" Damien asked his senior customer service representative. 

"Paul hired her," the C.S.R. whispered. "She's into Black Flag and that weird Mötley Crüe band,"

"I fucking hater her," Damien nearly spat the words out of his mouth. "She hassled me all the time in high school. If she does one thing that makes her fireable, report to me, and I'll report to Paul."

Damien ignored Amaya for most of the day. That is, until her lunch break, she knocked on Damien's office door. "Hey Damien, don't you remember me from school? Amaya?"

"Yeah, I remember you," Damien made it evident that he was not thrilled to have her there.

"Listen, I know what went down between us in school, but I really need this job. If I don't do well, my folks will kick me out," Amaya pleaded. "I know I can't make up for what happened before, but I'll bust my ass while I'm here, I promise."

"We'll see," Damien stoically replied, waving her off to leave.

~

For the first three months, Damien left Amaya on the line and forbade anyone on the swing shift from showing Amaya how to do anything beyond that. All she did was wrap tacos and burritos and make salads. When the rush hit during the evening, Damien took it as an opportunity to lay into Amaya. "I thought you said you were gonna bust your ass? I don't see it!"

"I'm sorry," she would reply. "I'll do it better!"

"Then do it!" Damien antagonized her. "Do it better, faster, and cleaner!"

~

"What exactly did Amaya do to you in high school?" Danny, the store manager, asked.

"Push me, shove me, tell everyone who would listen that I had a small dick and that I was gay," Damien replied. "Stuff like that, she did it all the time, any chance she had."

"She told me that she did apologize to you and promised to work hard," Danny said. "That sounds fair. What more can you ask for?"

"You're the manager, and it was your call, but are we THAT desperate to hire people?" Damien asked.

"She's a good worker, does her job, never complains," Paul reiterated. "I'm gonna bump her up to C.S.R. starting Monday. You'll show her the ropes since you're the swing manager."

Damien's response to Paul's news was to walk across the parking lot to the nearby Golden Arches and apply for a job. He didn't care whether he had to start from the bottom up. He wasn't going to let Paul humiliate him that way. 

~

 

Initially, the Golden Arches management staff hesitated to hire Damien until something Damien said caught their attention: "There's no future in Tacos, but the Golden Arches has a hamburger college. I'd like to work toward that goal."

In less time than he could hope for, Damien was promoted to the swing manager position, and in less time than that, Damien saw Amaya standing in the line on a Friday evening. When she finally reached the front, Damien took her order while the three staff members got the food, drinks, and fries together. 

"Hey, Damien," Amaya smiled slightly.

"Amaya," Damien put on his best Basil Fawlty impression.

"Can you not sound like you just downed a bottle of penicillin or something, dude?" Amaya asked.

"I'll give it my best," Damien replied. "Good evening, Amaya! How may we service your needs tonight?"

"I'm the swing manager now," Amaya nodded with pride. "How come you left all of a sudden?"

"The lines getting long." Damien gestured behind her. "Are you gonna order something?"

"Three cheeseburgers and a large coke," Amaya replied. "That was so random. One day, you were there, and the next day, you were gone. Did something happen?"

"Ten-forty-eight is your total," Damien said while receiving Amaya's money. "Why don't you go have a seat? I'll bring your order to you."

~

Another employee ended up bringing Amaya's order to her. She sat alone for a few minutes before Damien appeared and sat on the opposite side. "Sorry for being rude, but the line lasted longer after you left. What were you saying again?"

"I just wanted to know why you left like that? You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," Amaya said while inhaling her burger. 

"It's because I hate you," Damien said plainly. "I've hated you since high school. See, Danny hired you on a day I was off work, but you wouldn't have gotten that job if I had been there. I would have made sure of it. He told me I had to be professional, but once I found out you were getting a promotion, I left because I hated you. In the past tense, the present tense, and all future tenses. I hate you."

"I'm shocked to hear that," Amaya was rattled by what she heard. "I thought we put all that behind us and were cool?"

"You put it behind you," Damien leaned forward. "For me, how do I put it behind me? All the teasing, leaving notes in people's lockers telling them I'm gay, or pulling chairs out from under me when I'm trying to sit in class? Or even smearing butter on my face in the cafeteria? There are even more reasons than that to hate you, but what I just said tops the list,"

"Oh man," Amaya sighed. "I really am sorry. I mean, all I can tell you is that it took my parents threatening to kick me out for me to get my shit together. I'm not the same person anymore; busting my ass and not complaining paid off. I'm in management now."

"I'm off on Thursdays and Fridays. You can come in on those days; congratulations on your management promotion. May now you can manage to go fuck yourself?" Damien got up and walked out to the parking lot, where he headed to his car, which was parked at the opposite end. He'd only managed to get the car door open when someone violently shoved him from behind. It was a 73 Plymouth Satellite Sebring with front and back bench seats. Damien went sprawling face first. He heard the door slam behind him and before he knew it, his assailant delivered punishing blows to his kidneys again, and again. Violently, turning Damien over on his back, Amaya straddled his hips and held her first up to his eye. In a flash, she pulled back, and before Damien knew it, Amaya punched him three times on his orbital bone. Through the haze of pain, Damien managed to sit up and push Amaya off him. The driver's side door was still open, so Damien put his knees up to his chest and exploded his feet into Amaya's body, sending her flying to the pavement. Sitting up now, he grabbed the door handle and slammed it toward him; a second later, the key turned in the ignition, and the car fired up; Damien kicked it in gear and pressed the peddle to the floorboard, causing the rear wheels to kick up gravel unit it caught the pavement and took off. Amaya hit her head on the pavement pretty hard, so she was having difficulty getting to her feet. She only saw a glint of red glare from the tail lights of Damien's car as it sped off into the night on Radford Drive. 

~

It's 2:28 pm in the afternoon on August 28, Wednesday 2024. Damien is sitting at the traffic light on Punchbowl facing the intersection at South King. The air conditioner in the car is off, so his windows are down, but that's not helping. Without imminent storms arriving at the archipelago, all the cool air is being sucked into the atmosphere, making it humid. The traffic light is taking too long to change, which is what happens when it is insufferably hot; the powers that be make you sit in your box of a car while the sun beats down on you like a kid getting caught smoking by his parents. Damien glanced up for a second and saw her in the middle of the crosswalk. She was older now, but that was it. She was dressed different but it was her for sure. She crossed the intersection and walked past Kawaiaha'o church until she turned right on Mission Lane. He followed as closely as he could without being suspicious. The metered parking stalls on the street were empty, so he pulled into one to make it appear as if he were going to park. The moment presented itself when she stepped off the sidewalk and crossed the road at the corner of Mission Lane and Kawaiaha'o. He had to be quick and not hesitate. He pulled out of the parking stall and pointed his car toward her, reaching 60mph in less than two seconds. He hit her from a weird angle, breaking her knees at the joints. When she landed on her face on the cross street at South, she got two fractures. One below her left cheek and the other on her orbital bone. At her age, if she survived, it would take a long while for her to recover if she didn't die from her injuries. Damien had already turned right on Queen Street, jetting off toward Ward Avenue. From there, he drove to the Ala Moana Beach Park and stayed there until an hour before closing. Nothing surfaced the next day or the following week about the accident. No eyewitnesses, so no reports. 

However, a month later, Amaya Mikuni, now Fujimoto, was on the six 'o'clock news. 

"It's been a month since my wife's accident in town, and we have no leads as to who might have struck her in that hit-and-run downtown. If anyone knows anything, please call the number on the screen. This has been a real problem in my life. First, my dog was run over, then my step-son, and now my wife. I don't know if it's bad luck or if it's one person doing all this, but if you've seen anything or have any information, please contact the authorities! We need your help!"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. #36. Uniform.

Kaukonahua Road. It's a long, winding road with many hairpin turns, so as you can imagine, there have been many accidents, and many ghost stories have surfaced throughout the years.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. #35. Ho'omake.

One day, a hiking group traversed a trail nearby. The expert guide showed the group rare plants, native fruits, birds, and fragrant ferns.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. #34. Eric

 A man named Eric purchased a home on the Big Island that once belonged to a large family that had lived there for years.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. #33 Kama Kaha

 Ancient Hawaiian chiefs were known to keep a tally of the people who lived in their village so that the chiefs would know how many mouths needed feeding, how many fished, hunted, planted, and harvested, and how many people could fight in a war. 

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. #32. Offerings.

Long ago, an elderly couple lived near this place in the uplands of Waialua.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. #31 Cameron.

 "It's all the social media, the A.I., drones, ring cameras, and the phone cameras.

100 Ghost Storie Counting Down To Halloween 2024. #30. Jeff.

Jeff Kamisato survived a long day at his state job and just wanted to go home and sleep in the comfort of his air-conditioned home.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. #29. Carmen's Bed.

Sherry Kagawa snuck into her friend Carmen's house, hid under her bed, and waited until she got home.

100 Ghost Stories Counting To Halloween 2024. #28. Kamaka.

 Wayne Higa and his buddy Kamka Hiona stood in line at the concession, waiting for their beer and snacks for the concert. Tower Of Power was in town for a one-night-only gig at the Waikiki Shell.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. #27. Kaipu 3.

 "Your father must be a paniolo or a lumberjack or something," Kaipu exclaimed when Hayes put the beef stew in front of her. "This is a big man-sized serving."

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. #26. Kaipu 2.

 ...continued from yesterday

Hayes worked as a healer for people who couldn't solve their problems.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween.2024 #25. Kaipu. 1.

When the water rushes up the beach in front of her house and recedes back, it sounds like rice crispies popping in a bowl of milk.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. #24. Kekahi Mea.

 Alani packed most of his little knick-knacks into a thickly layered cardboard box.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. #23. Blessings.

 The blessings I offer the community are not advertised.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. #22. Uncle Rudy.

The mango tree is so old that it's an entire canopy covering our home in perpetual shade. 

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. #21. Stephanie.

There was a time when our summers were filled with visitations from our cousins in Hilo.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. #20. Pounding.

 Brad's studio apartment in Pearl City had one closet with a door that closed from the outside.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. #19. Jean.

 Jean Gouveia was Hawaiian on her mother's side and embodied everything that her Hawaiian mother, Netty, was.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. #18. Claymore.

Claymore Laukahi sat silently on the banks of the old stream in the depths of Paoa Valley, tossing a few large stones in the water.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. #17. Shakuhachi.

The Kapahulu morning was like a dark painting with rain unrelenting to those foolish enough to be in it.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. # 16. Future Me.

I stopped taking the medications.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. #15. Smart Hawaiian.

 He was born when many Hawaiian men, like Mackey, Ocean, Lord, or Dayton, had interesting first names.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. #14. Ku'u Kahu.

Her mother and grandmother showed Alalani Lawehala how and when to go to Halema'uma'u crater to leave offerings for Pele. 

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. #13. Sharmaine 3.

Sharmaine was given a larger storage space in the basement a year later, which she doubled as her office.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. #12. Sharmaine 2.

Sharmaine had no choice but to take the job.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. # 11. Sharmaine.

Lyle Kalama was once called to a meeting at the old Kenny's at the Kam (Kamehameha) Shopping Center in Kalihi.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. #10. Lehua.

Soft, smooth jazz played on the Bluetooth speaker.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. # 9. Leeanne.

I remember particular moments from my past through a romanticized lens, conveniently forgetting the reality of those situations.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. # 8. Wailua Sky.

Hattie Kalauluhi remembers growing up as a little girl in Waialua, living in a humble home near the beach.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. # 7. Pulakaumaka.

 1

After Jolene De Garma's grandfather, Harry, passed away, she began having episodes where she'd break down sobbing or, to the contrary, she'd become too happy, too bright, and effervescent. At night, her parents would wake up and find her curled up, sleeping at the foot of their bed. Mostly, she'd stare at the black-and-white photograph of her grandfather as it sat on the mantle in the living room. Jolene's father, Michael, said his daughter would go days without eating and suddenly become ravenous. Her mother, Joanne, intimated that complaints were lodged against Jolene for being overly promiscuous with fellow staff at her job. Her advances were unwelcomed and inappropriate; she was given a week off with pay and then was required to attend counseling sessions, which were paid for by her employer.

"She'd always been a good worker and well-liked by everyone," Joanne said. "Her boss was perceptive enough to realize that her sudden behavior change might have been caused by something else. For that, my husband and I were grateful,"

"That is until that one night," Michael interjected.

"Yes," Joanne nodded. "Michael and I were sitting on the couch watching a late movie when Jolene came from her bedroom to join us. Except when she sat down, she sat on Michael's lap like she used to do when she was a little girl. We both thought it was cute for a second, but Michael moved her off his lap because she was a full-grown adult and too heavy,"

"Jolene didn't appear to have a problem with it," Michael said. "But then she started pushing her mother away with her foot, not gently."

"It suddenly became manic," Joanne said. "To the point where she began kicking me and screaming My daddy! My daddy!"

"I had to restrain her," Michaels' voice cracked. "She spit at me and called me a panty. I wasn't stunned; I wasn't ready for that. That's what my father called me when I was growing up. I hated that. Anyway, a second later, it was like nothing happened. She walked over to the mantle and stared at my father-in-law's picture for the rest of the night. It was like she was in a trance. The head doctors said there was nothing wrong with her; she was perfectly normal."

"Physically normal," Joanne inserted. 

Michael breathed deeply. "We're religious people, but this felt like something else."

"Then why come here if you're religious people?" Boy asked. "Shouldn't you have sought the counsel of your clergyman or pastor? You don't want to risk being ostracized, do you?"

"We're at our wit's end," Michael confessed. 

"Our clergy won't touch this," Joanne admitted. "Liability."

"And your daughter? Where is she now?" Boy asked.

"At home," Michael said. "If you could do this right away, it's asking for a lot of your personal time, but our daughter needs some kind of help."

"It's fine," Boy said, rising from his chair. "We'll go now. I'll follow both of you."

As the couple turned and walked out of Boy's office ahead of him, he removed a pinch of red 'alae salt and sprinkled it on the top of Joanne's head. Crumbling to the floor, the woman undulated on the finely platted floor mat while coughing up white foam from her mouth. Her body tensed up suddenly, and her eyes flew open wide. A thick black smoke came out of her, and as it materialized through the wall, it tried to take Joanne with it, but it failed. Boy shook Michael out of his state of shock, "I need your help, Michael. Do you understand?"

"Yes, yes...what..what's happening? What's going on?" Michael had difficulty putting words together.

"Your father-in-law's spirit has taken hold of Jolene by possessing her, but simultaneously, he's also been possessing your wife," Boy said.

"Jolene and Joanne, but why?" Micheal was incredulous.

"One second, excuse me," Boy said as he opened his office door. Rita sat outside at the reception desk, reviewing some computer ledgers. "Aunty Rita, can you please come in and watch over this woman? Michael and I have to head back to his house right away,"

"He aha ka pilikia?" Rita asked.

"Uhane noho," Boy replied.

Rita removed a pouch of Hanapepe pa'akai and went into the office. Boy and Michael headed to the birdcage elevator and would soon be in the garage. "It's better if we take my car,"

Kealoha started up the vehicle and they were on their way.

2

The drive to the home in Kalihi was uneventful. The house itself was at the top of Kaikunane Loop. Kealoha parked in the garage of the two-story home armed with his own pouch of Hanapepe pa'akai just in case matters went south. Entering the home through the garage, Michael led the way. Music from a Bluetooth speaker filled the home; its origin was unknowable because it seemed like the sound emanated from everywhere and nowhere. 

"..That's all I wanted..something special, something sacred in your eyes..

..for just one moment to be bold and naked..at your side.."

"This was our song," Jolene's voice came above the din. "Me and Joanne, it was special between the two of us. Just the two of us and no one else,"

"Jolene?" Michael called out. "Someone's here to help you, hun. Come out so he can talk with you,"

"...Sometimes I think that you never...understand me.."

"She's mine, Michael, she's always been mine," Jolene called out.

When Boy and Michael entered the living room, they came upon Jolene as she stood in front of the black-and-white photo of her grandfather. Michael gasped, and his legs went weak when he saw the same thick black smoke from Joanne sitting on Jolene's shoulders. 

"That's your father-in-law," Boy said. "It's highly likely that he molested your wife as she was growing up and that he began doing the same thing to Jolene before he died or that he wanted to. I have a strong feeling that he was more obsessed with your daughter, though,"

"What? What the fuck, why?" Michael demanded.

"Those abused become abusers. A rare few survive the trauma and swear never to repeat or visit their experience on anyone else. Your father-in-law Harry was not one of them. I'll banish his spirit, but the psychological toll is something that you and your family have to take care of by getting professional help," Boy advised.

With a handful of Hanapepe pa'akai, Boy quickly approached Jolene and gripped her throat, forcing her mouth open. He stuffed the handful of salt into her mouth and tightly held her jaw shut. The spirit of Harry Peahi screamed in agony before it dissipated into a steaming black vapor. Jolene fell to her knees before falling forward, nearly hitting her head on the floorboard. 

3

The De Garmas spent considerable time in therapy, but it was a good kind—practical and applicable. It's beautiful when a family can heal together, thus strengthening their bond as one complete household.

 Rita prepared pulehu steak with a spinach salad, poi, and peach slices sprinkled with li hing mui powder. Ivan and Tiny were in Las Vegas for the annual reunion of the veterans club. Surely, Tiny was taking every advantage of the Casinos while Ivan quietly sat at the bar nursing a glass of apricot brandy. This afternoon, however, they had a nice lunch together. Rita and Boy sat on the couch near her desk, enjoying the delicious meal.

"Aunty, you always outdo yourself," Boy complimented. "You're the reason why I exercise so much."

"This case you just had," Rita began. "With that girl and mother," Rita paused, cutting her pulehu into smaller pieces. "Before I went to live with my Tūtū, the same thing happened to my sisters. Especially the oldest. She tried her best to protect the rest of us by keeping him longer and doing more things so he wouldn't bother us," tears stained her cheeks. Boy could see that it was something deep-seated that must have been dormant in his aunt for as long as she'd been alive. 

"When you and her husband went off to their house with Kealoha, I could share this very same thing with that woman. I don't have the words, my nephew, but there was healing there for both of us. Two complete strangers who would have otherwise walked past each other in public without so much as a blink. Yet, here we were sharing, crying, and healing," Rita moved her spinach around on her plate with her bio-degradable fork. 

"I see," Boy nodded. "There's also something I need to say to you, Aunty. Do you mind?"

"No, not at all, Hanson," Rita sat up. "Please tell me?"

" This time, I think my lover understands me; if we have faith in each other, then we can be... stronger," Boy said it almost in a whisper.

Rita bolted upright, dropping her fork and running for the elevator. Boy caught up with her, and the two struggled. Rita did her best to keep Boy from putting the Hanapepe salt in her mouth, and Boy applied all of his weight to his aunt's petite frame so she would gasp for air. Boy thought to call out for Kealoha, but his huge, wide frame emerged from the elevator, his feet pounding the wooden floor as he ran to his boss.

"Hold her down!" Boy instructed. Whatever possessed the old woman was very strong, but Kealoha was stronger. Applying his knee to her stomach, the old woman gasped for air, and Boy stuffed the blessed salt into her mouth and held it shut. When the thick black smoke of Harry's spirit left Rita's body, it left with a thunderous strike that shook the entire building. 

"I drove Harry's spirit out of his granddaughter, but I forgot that Joanne was still in the office unconscious. His spirit went back and possessed her. You let Harry in once you shared your story about your eldest sister," Boy said.

"How did you know?" Rita asked.

"Because you kept staring at his picture on your computer, the one from his obituary," Boy said.

Rita shook her head and apologized. "With all the shared wisdom that your uncles and I have, you're still the most perceptive,"

"Only when it comes to the three of you," Boy smiled. 

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. # 6. Apapane.

 1

I'm only a walker or a hiker if I need time to think or if I'm perusing the neighborhood for those uniquely old plantation-style homes from the past.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. # 5. Alia

 Laukani was on vacation on Hawai'i Island.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. #4. Hāloa

 Haloa

Wakea, the sky father, married Ho’ohokukalani, the goddess of the stars.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. #3 Hā'awi no ka manawa.

The Ka'iwi 'ohana was tight-knit—very close, almost clannish, if you will.

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. #2. Voices Carry.

 I remember the weekend when our Kumu Hula took us up into the mountains to gather palai and Lauaʻe.  

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2024. # 1 Ho'opahulu

 1

My Mom kept a clean house.

Receiving

You received a card with someone's personal information on it: first and last name, date of birth, address, and phone number. Then, height and weight, along with religious and political affiliation. Last is if they are male or female. You then transpose that information to your computer, click the send button, and repeat and repeat for eight hours, not including your lunch break. Where the information is going and who receives it isn't the point. The point is that you type it up and send it off. I get paid six thousand dollars a month to sit in my little cubicle in the far left corner of a basement office in a state building off Beretania Street. Rather than a partition for my cubicle, I was allowed to have a shoji screen. For this little bit of freedom, I was grateful.

I'd completed a year of employment when my supervisor peaked at me from behind my shoji screen. His name was Troy Inazuma. He was the great-grandson of a well-known local boxing coach from Kaimuki. Troy wore a blue blazer, a light blue dress shirt, khaki pants, and loafers. To complete the ensemble, he also wore a silk blue paisley ascot. Needless to say, Troy was nothing like his great-grandfather. He went to Soka University straight out of high school and returned to U.H. for his law degree. He never became a lawyer or an attorney. The degree was his ticket to politics, but instead, it landed him his supervisory position in a state office. 

"Good morning, Keoni-san!" He sang his greeting in the karaoke voice he was known for. 

"Good morning, Mr. Inazuma!" I returned his salutation and stood up to shake his hand.

"What is this shake hand kine stuff?" He pulled me in for a hug. "It's Troy, too! None of this, Mr. Inazuma! You make me feel so old!"

"Okay," I chuckled.

"So, how are you doing down here? Do you not get stuffy and claustrophic in this space?" he asked like a concerned parent. 

"Well, they let me have a shoji screen rather than an off-putting partition, so I'm happy," I smiled.

"Come, we go eat! My treat! Get this lunch truck on Mililani Street; they have the best adobo!" Even before I could politely refuse, protesting that I was still on the clock, Troy reassured me that I shouldn't worry.

"I go mark um down as time and a half! Who going to know anyway? I'm the boss of the whole division!"

Ever precautious, I carefully clocked out anyway and made a notation that Mr. Inazuma said this would be marked down as time and a half in case I came back late. The walk from my office off Beretania proceeded across the street, through the rotunda of the state capitol, the back gate of the palace, through the grounds, and out the Kauikeauoli gate. Then we crossed South King and ended up at the holy grail of lunch trucks, Masa's Yellow Wagon. The whole while, Troy droned on about work, karaoke, traffic, his lack of a love life, and a new kind of organic shampoo used for dog grooming. He didn't notice the pigeons near the queen's statue committing gang violence on a single myna bird. Nor did he acknowledge the homeless woman who tried to return a pen that fell out of his pant pocket. I noticed, and while taking the pen from the woman's hand, I gave her ten dollars in exchange for her kindness. Troy was clueless as I inserted the pen back into his shirt pocket and kept up with his pace. After we got our food, we ended up sitting on the wrap-around benches at the Bayobab tree on the palace grounds. I ate my food, waiting for the point of Troy's endless diatribe about everything and nothing. When we were done, we walked to the nearest trash bin and deposited our recyclable lunch plates. 

"Anyway, Keoni. I wanted to say that you will get one promotion, and we will move you over to the receiving office in Pohukaina! Nice, yeah?" He clapped his hands together like hummingbird wings. Rather than be happy, I was exhausted because Troy had already sucked all the air out of the little bit of atmosphere that was left between us.

"You mean accounting and receiving? I tried not to sound too unenthusiastic.

"No, just receiving," he nodded.

"On Pohukaina street?" I wanted to be sure.

"Yes," he replied as he stuffed the address on his lunch receipt into my pocket. "You start tomorrow! So exciting!" He stood on his tippy toes, clapping only his fingertips together. I suddenly felt the urge to punch him.

~

The following morning at eight sharp, I pulled up to the address, a nothing Quonset hut made from corrugated tin. It stood between a car repair shop and an elder hostile with large ti-leaf plants in front of it. You'd walk right past it if you didn't know it was there. I'd find out later on that that was the purpose of the whole thing, that it not be discoverable to the general public. Then, why have the warehouse at all? Troy was already waiting out front, sunny and vibrant as ever. 

"So Keoni-san, all you have to do is receive the inventory brought to you. Ensure you get a correct count daily. The people who bring you the inventory will put it inside and then leave, and that's it!" He stood on his tippy-toes and clapped. Whispering to me, he continued. "This is a big jump in pay for you! You were making six a month, but now you are making ten! Sssshhh!"

"What's the inventory?" I asked him.

"Lauhala baskets, neatly wrapped with different kine-colored raffia," he got closer, and his face became deadly serious. Very contrary to his almost manic happiness. "Keoni, don't look in those baskets. You are going to lose more than just your job. Do you get it?" He pinched the skin on my forearm, and I jumped back, squealing in pain and shoving him simultaneously. 

"Owwww! What the fuck is wrong with you?" I bellowed.

"Just receive the inventory," Troy's eyes made him look like one of those ajumma from those Korean dramas who was about to whip up on you for being insolent. "Once the Quonset hut is full, you're done for the day." Pointing to a switch by the roll-up fence, he continued. "Roll the fence shut, apply the lock, and turn on that red switch. I'll give you a number that you have to text to tell me when you started and what time you finished. That's it!" His happiness came back, and he turned and literally skipped out the gate.

For the rest of the day, random guys wearing dark blue overalls wheeled piles of Lauhala baskets on hand trucks and dollies into the hut until it was filled from floor to ceiling. Before I could text Troy and ask him about my lunch break, lunch showed up. A nice big bento with a large can of Coke. That was the routine, every day for ten grand a month. Closing up time came around two in the afternoon. However, I discovered that no matter how many hours I was there, I still got paid for a full day. The fenced gates closed without a problem, and applying the chain and lock was no big task. Flipping on the red switch, though? That was literally a shock. This sudden loud buzzing came on, and I jumped back. The fence was amplified with a massive wattage of electricity. Did I forget to mention the crispy-cooked minah birds, cats, and the occasional dog I'd find in the mornings? Within six months of making that much money, I got lazy, over-ate, and drank a lot. In hindsight, that's what Troy and the state hoped for when they paid someone that much money once a month. That way, that person isn't curious about the Lauhala baskets being wrapped with different colored raffia, why they were piled separately in the Quonset hut, and why, the following day, when that person came to work, all the lauhala baskets were gone.

~

Usually, I have to wait outside in my little shed until the guys in the blue overalls show up and start loading up the Quonset hut. That's anywhere between ten and ten-thirty. It's 1:33 pm, and no one's here. There's no fan in the shed; today, it's hot. I'm not catching any sort of breeze at all. I know there's a fully working a/c inside the hut, so I opened it up and made myself comfortable. Man, the cold air feels nice. It's so relaxing that I lay myself on the floor; before I know it, I'm out. Fast asleep. 

It wasn't a sound that eventually woke me up. It was the feeling of slight pressure around my ankles and the sensation that something was pulling me across the floor. I woke up to see a massive shark with my foot in its mouth—not biting me, but securing my foot in its jaw as it wriggled backward towards an open hatch in the floor. I kicked it in the snout with everything I had, and it let me go. I got up and ran toward the door, down the short lane, through the front gate, past the ti-leaf plants, and onto Pohukaina Street. I didn't stop there. I ran to the Ala Moana shopping center until I sat in the most overcrowded place I could find. The food court. I felt safe there, and that's where I stayed until Troy showed up after I texted him. Instead of sitting across from me at the table, he sat next to me and tightly gripped the back of my neck.

"I gave you instructions on what to do! How come you didn't do it?" He hissed in my ear. I shot up from my chair and shoved him away a second time. Everyone at the Poi Bowl saw the commotion and stared wide-eyed at us. 

"I'm gonna beat your fucking ass! Do it again!" I dared him.

"For ten grand a month, you'll lick my boots if I tell you to!" He growled at me.

"Fuck you and your ten grand! It's not worth that shit!" I was in his face now. "I don't work for you anymore!"

~

So, what was really going on at that state-run receiving warehouse? Those Lauhala baskets contained very ancient Hawaiian remains—extensive in number, almost too many to count. They were all dug up in and around the Kaka'ako area. The different-colored raffia ribbons denote male or female, child or elder, Ali'i or commoner. The Quonset hut stood over a lava tube that led out to the ocean. The 'aumakua shark of the area would come and take all the bones in the lauhala baskets and bring them to the open sea, where they would never be found or disturbed again. It was a top-secret hush-hush job, so it paid very well. They can't access every single set of remains, but with the ones they can secure, whoever THEY are, those remains end up in a natural repository somewhere in the deep blue Pacific Ocean. Crazy, right? As for Troy? He got his dream job working as a district representative in the state capital. Imagine his dismay when he saw another person wearing an ascot? That's not the end of it. What strikes me as strange is that the receiving warehouse is a state-run operation. Since when did the state give a shit about anyone or anything Hawaiian? Yet here's this nothing Quonset hut sitting unseen in the middle of Kaka'ako unless you were looking for it, where ancient Hawaiian remains are taken by a shark god to be repatriated to a safer location. Either some higher-up in some state office really did give a shit, or this is something else entirely. I think I was chosen for the job because of what my previous job entailed: transposing pointless information and sending it up the line for nine hours a day, five days a week, without one complaint or asking for a raise. Perhaps that's what was needed for the receiving job, a state drone that did what they were told without question. 

I ran into Troy one night as he was coming out of a bathroom stall at Ward theaters. Even in a fitted shirt and jeans, he still wore an ascot. Something overcame me, and in an instant, I had his face wedged up in the stall door. 

"Aaaah! Aaaah!" He screamed. "That hurts Keoni-san!"

"I'm glad to hear that, you fucker," I slowly applied all my body weight to the door.

"I'll have your ass for this!" He screamed again. So, I applied more pressure. "Aaaaah!"

"You wish, you fucking psycho hummingbird," I sneered at him.

"Aaahh, what do you want?" He tried using his own weight to push back, but no luck.

"Nothing," I replied. "I just saw you and knew that I wanted to hurt you. That's all."

"I'll make sure you get hurt, financially, publicly, legally. I'll come at you with everything I've got!" He promised with his face all scrunched up. I'm sure that the edges of the stall door were going to leave marks on his cheeks.

"And I will stream live and tell the world what the fuck is going on in that Quonset hut, and I will name names. Mainly, your name, representative Troy Inazuma," I let the door go and watched as he stumbled backward until he sat on the toilet seat, rubbing the pain away from his face. By the time he was ready to get up and rush me, I was gone. 

~

That following Tuesday afternoon, just a little close to one fifteen. A black limo with two smaller black cars pulled up to the driveway. A security detail emerged dressed in aloha shirts and dark slacks. With them came a well-dressed woman who was obviously an assistant. I knew that because the governor stepped out of the car after her. The whole detail walked toward me without a word until the governor and I were face to face. She extended her hand, and I took it.

"Let's go inside," she said, pointing to the Quonset hut. The detail followed, but Governor Sheldeen Kalama turned and pointed to one guard. "Just Brad, everyone else, wait here." She was already five feet eight inches tall but towered over me with heels on. I had no problem with that; after all, she was our first female governor of Hawaiian descent. "I heard you and representative Inazuma had a personality conflict the other night?"

"We did," I nodded. "I reacted childishly, I should have known better, but I let my emotions get the best of me. I apologize, ma'am. I was wrong. The punishment must be big if you had to come here and tell me personally."

"It's not the beef between you two that is the issue," she began. 

"Eh, you guys like throw blows then go, I no care. Representative Inazuma can be or is too much. He vacillates so much sometimes I cannot tell who the hell I'm talking to! Keoni, what bothers me is the threat you made to him about exposing this place," taking a step closer, she leaned in and spoke in a low tone. "I'm the one who secretly initiated this whole thing," she said as she gestured her arms around the space we were standing in. "This whole thing."

"You did?" I was shocked and surprised.

"I cannot go into detail, but how this place became developed took a lot of Kapu and a few sacrifices, if you understand what I'm saying," she raised her eyebrows.

Nodding, I replied. "I understand,"

"Good," she slapped me on the shoulder. "If you see Troy in public from now on, just do me a favor, please? Ignore him and walk the other way. He was crying yesterday about filing a restraining order on you, but I told him to cowboy the fuck up and stop being so irraz."

"Yes, ma'am, I can do that," I promised.

"Okay, good 'den," she smiled and gave me a big hug. "K, Brad, let's go Boot's and Kimo's, I'm starving."

They all returned to their cars and were soon gone, and I returned to work. Soon, more lauhala baskets were going to arrive, and I'd have to count them all and close up once that was done. I felt a lot better now as if a huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders. I felt better about my job and didn't feel like a human metronome. It wasn't monotony anymore; there was a purpose to it. Now I understood why this place was chosen. In order to do what the governor needed to do, the location had to be non-descript and highly secure. Makes sense. Thinking about it now after talking with the governor, maybe I don't dislike Troy so much? Nah, I dislike him, but I won't risk this job because of him. 

Jamba 2014

 You can tell I’ve had a hard night on one of my ghost excursions because you’ll find me the following morning at Jamba Juice having a power-sized “Mango-a-go-go” with no boost.

Andra

 It was earlier than I cared to be awake, but a job is a job.

Waiulu

 Rain is always the theme on a day like this one.