A Chilling Tale of Shave Ice

A Chilling Tale of Shave Ice is a poignant tale of the widow Mrs. Sugihara and her teeenage son who run a small store in a sugar plantation village on the island of Hawai'i in 1937. When the neighborhood stories of strange hauntings in the near-by Japanese language school reach the ears of Mrs. Sugihara, her fertile imagination concocts a supernatural plot which will soon have the entire village waiting for the return of the spirits of the dead. As they wait for an encounter with a ghost, the villagers spend the night telling ghost stories which capture the multicultural lore of the Hawaiian Islands. When the ghost of the Japanese language school fails to appear, Mrs. Sugihara then attempts to resurrect the dead, a turn of events which will spell disaster for the village and the Sugihara Store. The dialogue of A Chilling Tale of Shave Ice was developed by James Grant Benton and Arnold Hiura so as to capture the rhythms and diversity of Hawai'i's pidgin English. A glossary is included to assist readers who may not be familiar with the local terms which add cultural complexity to the story of Mrs. Sugihara and the haunted village.

From the Publisher

A Chilling Tale of Shave Ice is a poignant, delightful tale which not only captures a slice of island social history, but introduces readers to the fascinating world of Hawai'i's supernatural storytelling. The ghost stories which are shared within the context of the novel are all based on true ghostly encounters gathered from the author's 30 years of research into the folkore of the Islands.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

"Joshua is Burned by Pele" Chapter Two When Joshua Josephs was 10 years old, Halema'uma'u Crater blew its lid. The lake of fire which for 100 years had delighted thousands of visitors to the legendary home of Pele. . . disappeared one day in 1924. The caldera beneath Halema'uma'u had cracked, draining the massive pool of molten lava. As the hot magma poured into the earth, it hit an underground stream, resulting in a tremendous explosion that nearly doubled the size of the crater, causing boulders to hurl into the air so furiously that lightning struck the sky from the friction and steam to billow from Halema'uma'u resembling a giant mushroom cloud. . . Joshua was living in Hilo at that time with his grandparents, who had given him, his mother and sister a home after the premature death of his father. When visitors were once again allowed to go sightseeing at Volcano, Joshua's grandfather packed up the entire family in their Oldsmobile touring car and drove up to Kilauea. The family had a picnic at a little roadside turnout and then that afternoon began the long journey home to Hilo. A few minutes later they were cruising along a stretch of road in the park, when Grandfather suddenly slowed down. Sitting up in the backseat, Joshua saw that his grandfather was pulling over to talk to an elderly, bare-footed woman who was walking alongside the highway with a small, white dog. He could see the lady only from the back, but she had shoulder-length, snow-white, bushy hair and was wearing a dirty white bathrobe. She stopped a bit as she walked gingerly along the road. Grandfather called out to her, and she turned, looking back into the backseat where Joshua sat with his sister. Even a decade later, as he related his experiences to the hushed audience in Kamoku, his voice was trembling as he remembered the face of the old tutu who looked into the backseat at the frightened little 10 year-old boy. Her pure white hair framed a sun-blackened face which was crisscrossed in deep wrinkles, the flesh cracked, like the field of pahoehoe lava that stretched out for miles behind her. The pupils of her eyes were on fire, her red gaze literally generating a beam of heat that burned him on his flesh. "Owww!" he cried, shutting his eyes and ducking his face down into the seat. "Owww!" The flesh on his face burned where her eyes had looked at him. . . "Aloha, keiki! " said the old tutu. "Aloha!" Joshua refused to either speak or took up at the frightening old woman. "Joshua! Joshua!" chided Grandfather. "Speak to the tutu. She likes you." "She's spooky!" he muttered, refusing to sit up. "Talk to her, boy!" his mother now admonished him from the front seat. "Be polite to your elders!" Keeping his hands over his eyes, he finally obeyed his mother and sat up in the seat. His spread his fingers apart slightly so that he could see and peeked at the old woman. "Aloha," he barely whispered. She looked down at him, her wrinkled lava-like face set off by the white hair and the red, burning eyes. This time her hot gaze scorched the back of his hands. "Owww!" he cried again. "She hurts!" "Joshua, stop it!" scolded his Grandfather, who in Hawaiian asked the elderly woman to forgive his grandson for his rudeness. " 'A'ole pilikia, " she said. "No problem." She reached out with her hand into the backseat, placing a single finger on Joshua's shoulder. The heat of her touch did not burn his shirt, but it clearly seared his flesh. "OW!" he screamed hysterically, crawling down onto the back floor to hide himself from the woman. He was now crying from the pain of his burns. After what seemed an eternity, the engine of the Oldsmobile finally roared to life, the adults in the front seat waved aloha to the old woman and Grandfather resumed the cruise to Hilo. Joshua was just about to breath a sigh of relief when his little sister Martha, who had been standing on the backseat looking out the rear of the automobile, let out a scream. "Stop! Grandfather .. Stop!" she was yelling frantically. "Look at the old woman!" Joshua got up just in time to see the white-haired, lava-faced woman with the red eyes land on a huge ledge of lava that rose at least 30 feet from the field of pahoehoe. Martha later explained that the old woman had literally jumped from the side of the road to the ledge. . . The little white dog had followed her in her miraculous leap. Grandfather braked the car as the entire family turned to see the old tutu now looking down upon them with a beautiful smile. She raised her hand and waved to the Josephs family who, mouths agape, waved back. She and her dog then stepped back from the ledge and vanished behind the rock. The ride back to Hilo was very silent. Only Grandfather spoke as he told Joshua and his sister how the old woman had told Grandfather that she didn't want a ride to Hilo. She lived in this place and she loved watching the billowing steam cloud that rose from Halema'uma'u. "Never forget this day," Grandfather quietly advised the two children. "For on this day we were all blessed to have seen Pele." Unbuttoning his shirt, Joseph held one of the candles up to his shoulder which he bared for the audience. In the flickering light, those up close could clearly see, at the place where Pele had allegedly touched him, a reddish discoloration that was identical to a single fingerprint permanently burned in his flesh. Pele had left her mark upon the boy who had grown into a man haunted by an unforgettable encounter on a volcano road. With a single, quick breath, Joshua Josephs blew out the light of his candle.

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