Everyone knew that the old building on Merchant street was woefully haunted. You name it, it happened. The structure saw better days during the territorial era but now it was old and worn out by the ravages of time. Some of the original wiring needed to be replaced and rather than spending a few more dollars for quality work, the boss at the office went with a cheaper family owned electrician business. It was nearly three ten in the morning when Masa Hiranaga began working on the wall sockets. His son Justin’s routine was to have the tool box open and hand his father the tools he needed.
“Gimme one flat head, Justin. The small one,” Masa held his hand out and the screwdriver was placed in his open palm. It was an inch too big for the screw. “The small one I said, this one is too big,”
Just as he Felt the smaller screwdriver placed in his hand, Masa got a closer look and saw that the head of the screw was shredded, "Oh no...tsk...gimme one pliers Justin, this thing is no good already,"
Masa suddenly heard thundering foot steps coming down the hall way and glanced up. Who could be here at this hour? It was Justin holding two cups of coffee and a white paper bag.
“Dad, I get coffee and doughnuts. Take a break real fast, we go eat!”
Masa looked behind him and saw the open tool box and a pair of pliers floating in the air. His face became pale and he scrambled to his feet and grabbed his son and ran out of the building. They never came back, not even for their tools.
The word of what happened to Masa and Justin got around in the electricians community and by the time the boss at the office was willing to pay a bit more for quality work, no one would do it.
No one sane that is.
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