I never assume anything. Like, I never expect that people can read my mind or that they can anticipate my actions or needs. Doing things for myself in the way I want things done is more manageable and less stressful. This is why past relationships have complicated situations, and that's why I don't get involved anymore.
Especially with what I do for a living? Involvement could be dangerous. Take, for example, the case I took on eight years ago. Moses Kele was the patriarch of his family who lived on Gulick avenue in Kalihi. He died suddenly one evening of a massive heart attack. The family was devastated by their loss. Moses was the central figure of their world, but at the same time, his passing finally gave them the space they needed to exhale. In life, Moses ruled his home with an iron fist, and no one could breathe without his permission, much less express their own opinion. A week later, Esther Kele, Moses' wife, passed away in her sleep. Everyone was heartbroken as it is known in some cases that after one spouse passes, the other is soon to follow. However, things began to take a severe turn once Moses' oldest son Benjamin passed away, and following him was the next son, Alfred. All that was left was the only daughter and sister, Mary.
Mary is the one who made that fateful call, and I'm the one who answered. In normal circumstances, she would have let her father handle a matter like this because he was the pastor of the small church that the family-owned, but he wasn't here anymore, and Mary was desperate. She didn't want to be next.
The 1925 styled home sat in the middle of Gulick, it's lite two-toned green color blended nicely into the grass and foliage that surrounded the house. Despite what transpired, the house had a lovely nostalgic feel to it. Whoever the first owners were, their hard work and sweat became a part of the architecture. While standing there, caught up in my daydream, the screen door to front porch opened, and a Hawaiian woman who was pleasing to the eye came forward and introduced herself to me.
"I'm Mary Kele; I'm the one who called you," she extended her hand and, I took it in mine.
"I'm sorry for your loss, Mary, but I'm not sure how I can help you?" I said.
"I don't have time, so I'll just tell you straight, it's my father. He still wants control over us, even in the afterlife, he's trying to take all of us with him." Tears fell from her eyes; it was evident that the fear she felt was real. "He was so stubborn and so strong-willed, it only makes sense that he would try to control us from the other side."
"I'll contact my cousin, who is a Kahuna of Ho'oponopono, it sounds like things concerning your father's spirit need to be set right," I offered.
"I appreciate it," she sighed and gave me a hug, which I was not expecting. I didn't reciprocate right away because it was awkward, but once I inhaled her natural scent, that was pretty much the end of that. I was all in. I didn't linger too long though, I mean I didn't want to come off as some kind of pervert, so I left like all good people in the field should do. A couple of days later, she called me back and asked me if I had time to talk? I assumed that the subject matter regarded her father, so I agreed to meet her. I locked up my house, and I was soon in my garage, starting up the car. That's when I saw her walking up to my driveway.
"Hey, how'd you know where I live?" I asked.
"Haven't you seen your Facebook? You've posted pictures of your street sign on it a few times," she was right, so that's one point off of her possible stalker status.
"Shit, I have to stop doing that," I said more to myself than her. "What's happening? Is everything okay?"
"I haven't been entirely truthful with you regarding my father's spirit," she folded her arms in front of her and looked down at her feet for a second.
"Like how?" I asked. "Wait, did my cousin contact you?"
"I'll get to that shortly," she replied. "But can I just tell you first?"
"Okay," I shrugged my shoulders. I pulled out a couple of chairs from the storage closet and dusted them off very quickly. We sat in front of my car, and I waited for her to share her thoughts.
"My father was strict on myself and my brothers growing up, but he could be kind when the mood struck him. Mostly, he was abusive to my mother; he tried to be with me as soon as I turned thirteen, but my mother wouldn't let him." Mary said.
"You mean physically abusive to your mom and yourself?" I asked.
"Sexually," Mary replied. "It had to be rough first."
"Rough?" I think I squeaked more than asked.
"Yes," she replied. "Like this,"
Without warning, Mary burst forward out of her chair and landed a devastating right hook under my eye. Her beauty is what polarized me, what she just did, and what she looked like really fucked me up in the head. I think that's what Mary was counting on. She landed a left hook to my ribs, which doubled me over. Then she followed up with a right uppercut, which put me on my ass; I was out cold. When I came out of it, Mary had my pants and underwear down to my thighs. I gasped in shock as I realized she had me inside her while she sat on me. "I didn't mean to hurt you, but I like you, and this is how I like it; rough. We're almost there," she moaned. "We're almost there, don't go without me, wait for me, wait for me."
I'm gonna tell you now that it took a considerable measure of superhuman strength to push Mary off of me. The fact that she was disgustingly crazy, however, was a more than a great incentive to stand upright and quickly zip my pants up. Mary, I suspect, was probably not used to anyone resisting her physically abusive sexual yearnings. The wide-eyed look of surprise when I knocked her to my garage floor with a straight right punch to her chin confirmed it. The police had a good laugh at my expense when they arrived later. They saw how beat up my face was, but they also saw my old gear locker laying doors down on the garage floor with me sitting on it. When I got off of the gear locker and asked the friendly officers to help me stand it up, I stood at the head of the cabinet, the other two officers stood on either side and on the count of three heaved it up. There on the garage floor, lay Mary, who was just coming around. When I explained the whole story to them from beginning to right then, they spent the first twenty minutes laughing before they finally put all the facts together and realized I was telling the truth. Believe it or not, Mary was arrested for sexual assault and battery. From what I know, Mary was bailed out from a relative, and three days later, she was found dead in her home. The cause of death was never revealed, and I didn't care to know even if it was her father's spirit or not.
So, there you have it all sweet and laid out clean and proper. You see why I don't get involved. Incidentally, if you haven't already figured it out, Mary never returned my cousin's call for Ho'oponopono. She had no intention of making things right, she was just on the prowl for another conquest. Hold on one second, my phone is ringing.
"Hello?" I ask.
"This is Lopaka, you called in regards to a personal story you wanted to share?" The voice on the other side of the phone asked.
"Yeah, Lopaka, this is Mike from Kāneʻohe. I have a story I wanted to share with you, just to see what you think?" I reply.
"Sure," he says. "Go ahead."
"Well," I tell him. "I never assume anything."
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