PupuleMoke Manoa was a little nuts. At least, that's what the neighbors told Kamaki and Lina Akamu when they moved next door to the scrawny, elderly Hawaiian. The neighbors called the strange man Pupule, saying his brain was split in half. Pupule. Crazy. He always wore the same clothes and talked to himself and walked a little stooped over. Rain or shine, he rode a rusting three-wheeled adult tricycle with a basket on the rear loaded with bags of who-knew-what. A tiny flag waved high on a pole attached to the back of his seat so people could see him in traffic. The neighbors said Moke used to own a lot of farm acreage but got too old to take care of it. He sold it off and bought the plantation house he now lived in and saved the rest of the money to carry him through old age. He was Portug
