Ghosts Next Door

Ghosts Next Door
by Lopaka Kapanui

Oct 29, 2019

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2019 #4

HUHUHUNE

WAHI: LANAKILA



I had an uncle that no one liked, not even my father, and they were brothers. However, we were all forced to be kind to him because he was the uncle that had money, and most of the adults did not.
Including my dad. So the uncle, his name is Theodore, but he made us kids call him professor. Whenever he came over, he specifically asked for us kids to see him. He'd play with us for as long as he felt like it until it was time to do business with the adults. Myself in particular? I didn't like him; in fact, I couldn't stand him. His old spice cologne, combined with the smell of the rope cigars he smoked, always made me want to throw up. Worse, however, was the erection he'd get in his pants whenever we kids ran into the living room to greet him. I never ran, I either took my time or conveniently had to go take a shit. I did my best to be the very last child to go and see the professor, but the second he saw me, he reached out and grabbed me by the arm and hiked me up on his lap. He'd quickly adjust his erection so that I could feel it under my butt cheeks.

"You're my favorite Tony-O, I always come just to see you," he'd whisper with his lips pressed right up against my ear. "You can feel how happy I am to see you, right?"

That's when I'd squirm and jump off his lap and go find my dad and sit next to him so that the professor wouldn't bother me. Just how badly did we need the money anyway? As luck would have it or misfortune depending and how you look at it, the professor passed away as the result of a massive heart attack. I, for one, was relieved truth be told, the other kids were sad, but the adults looked like the proverbial rug was swept out from under them. With the professor went the money because in his will he left them nothing. All of his money went to his bowling league, his family got nothing. Well, that's not true, he did leave one thing behind. His Rolex watch. That went to me. I didn't want it, and I insisted that my dad take it, and he did. He wore it for a while and then one day at work while two of his men were moving a double door refrigerator up a flight of stairs, one of them lost his grip, and the massive piece of appliance went sliding down the stairs at full speed. My dad never saw it coming, and he never had a chance to get out of the way. He was killed instantly.

A month after my dad's services, his younger brother Ethan took the professor's watch and began to wear it. He was killed in a freak head-on accident while pulling out front first from his garage. His wife, my aunty Lorene was pulling IN to the garage at the same time. The frontal impact didn't cause as much damage as it should have considering the circumstances. But it was enough to snap my uncle Ethan's head back with such force that it broke his neck and died. He technically or medically decapitated. 

~

Somehow, and I don't know-how, the professor's watch found its way back to me. Aunty Lorene handed it back to my mom, thinking that it was my dad's watch originally. I guess my mom remembered that it was willed to me by you know who. I never wore it, I just left it on my dresser. One night, after coming back to bed from using the bathroom. I began to re-settle myself under my sheets and blankets and slowly drifted back to sleep. I recall adjusting by rolling on my side. That's when I smelled it, the foul odor of Old Spice cologne and rope cigar. Once the smell burned into my nostrils, I felt an erection on the back of my buttocks. Then I heard it, "I always come to see you Tony-O, you're my favorite."










No comments:

Post a Comment