The Hoarder

Michael managed to blurt out: "I'm sure that's not the case, Mr McIntyre!" Suddenly, Michael felt like he was in trouble He knew nothing about corruption and was certainly not part of it if it did exist.

Kendal had something of the hawk about him as he watched Michael squirm.

Michael felt like he was in a trap. "I know nothing about anything like that!" he exclaimed, defensively. As far as he was concerned, he was doing his job as he always did. This place was an environmental hazard and that was that. No underhand agenda, no Machiavellian tactics, no coercion. Just an Environmental Health Officer doing his thing and he said as much loudly and with as much honesty in his voice as he could muster.

"I'm just here to do my job! That's all!"

Kendal stayed still, watching, until he visibly relaxed his posture and leant back into his chair. He maintained his gaze on the now terrified Michael whose breaths were coming more quickly and whose sweat was starting to bead at his temple.

And then Kendal did something very surprising, still holding Michael's gaze, his eyes never moving.

He winked.

"It's okay, Michael. It was purely hypothetical. I have no idea if that is even an approximation of the truth." He spread his hands out and shrugged. "It was merely an example for you, to illustrate what I was saying about the designs of men."

Michael visibly relaxed. He hadn't realised how tense he'd become - his neck tight, his teeth clenched, his eyes wild - until he was no longer in what he perceived as danger. He was starting to wish he'd never left his house that morning. Perhaps he could get a job working from home. Yes, that would suit him better. Nice and safe at home. He'd enquire as soon as he got back to the office.

If he got back to the office.

"Sorry if I frightened you, dear boy," Kendal chuckled. "Intimidation was, is, one of my superpowers, or so I've been told." He smiled. "I sometimes forget I have it in me nowadays." Kendal shook his head. "But it appears that it lives with me still." He placed his hands on his knees. "And it has been useful as well as other skills gathered along the way and has helped bring me to this point. Retired with a nice cottage, living a quiet life."

He looked thoughtful again."But old habits die hard, Michael and there's never a shortage of men with designs and the ability to act on their whims."

Michael felt like he had landed in some surrealist parallel world. He needed to leave and this was his priority now, to leave this old man, fill out his report and do his job. This talk of men with designs was all very well but what did it have to do with hoarding random stuff?

Carefully, as if delivering a verbal grenade, Michael asked, "Forgive me but what does this have to do with all the stuff you've accumulated?"

Kendal looked at him for a short second and then barked a laugh.

"Well, everything, Michael, everything! Oh, not yet maybe but this 'stuff' ", Kendal using his fingers to create air quotes,"will be invaluable."

Michael failed to see it but Kendal continued.

"The world is a dangerous place, Michael."

Michael was unsure about this, having not travelled further than Majorca and that was on a package holiday so he'd only seen the island from the air, the bus, the poolside and the hotel balcony. He'd heard about drug gangs and shoplifting and even sex trafficking but it didn't seem relevant in his small slice of English suburbia. His mum had had a gnome stolen from the garden once and the window of the library was broken by some wayward teenagers recently but that was about the full extent of Michael's encounters with danger.

Until today of course.

Kendal went on. "That's never going to change. Usually, however, the dark ambitions of men are kept in check by selecting leaders who do not share them or at least, leaders who can restrict them through laws and process and democracy. But what if a leader is chosen who is made up solely of dark ambitions? Of covetousness? Of shallow ego? Of a love for wealth and all things shiny? What if a leader is chosen who cares nothing for men or how they live? Whose only concern is to subdue? And if he can't subdue, his aim is to create fear and division and doubt, all towards our fellow humans?"

Here, Kendal leaned forwards, his tone becoming more emphatic.

"I'll tell you, shall I? What happens when men like this gain power is that we go to war - amongst ourselves, with others - and war is costly in so many ways." Kendal used the index finger of his right hand to count them off on the fingers of his left. "Economically. Agriculturally. Mentally. Never mind the cost to humanity and the blood that gets shed. And war causes shortages and again," Kendal held out his fingers again, "I could count them: food, resources, life." He paused. "The only thing that there's an abundance of is fear."

Michael nodded. He understood what Kendal meant as he had heard the news and overheard conversations from concerned individuals. His awareness was minimal - he didn't feel like it really impacted him - but the earnestness with which Kendal was delivering his defence for his hoarding was striking a chord with him, although it probably wasn't resonating as greatly as Kendal would have liked. Michael didn't live in fear. He hated the fact that he had to pay more for his fuel and that had happened quickly. Michael couldn't see how it could escalate to the heights where hoarding would be beneficial though. We were a long way from having to use old broken bits and pieces to get on, weren't we? It was hardly like the world was apocalyptic! He thought that Kendal was guilty of a little scaremongering, if he was honest.

Kendal continued: "Fear is a very powerful way to control a human being and their thinking. If you can harness that through charisma and belief, then it can lead people to places where they become susceptible. They can be convinced of things that are not true and do things that they believe are for the better when the opposite is true."

Kendal paused again. "People like to be led, Michael, even if it is along the pathway to their own destruction. But not all people. Some can see these despots for what they are. However, the chances are they can't stop them. Or certainly not easily. Especially if they have wealth behind them. And so it plays out. Escalating and escalating, faster and faster, like a tornado. And as it does, so things fall apart." Kendal started to speed up. "Or are torn apart. And the things on which we rely disappear as people are diverted, spending their time and energy resisting, fighting, dying. Supermarkets are no more, refineries, steelworks, hardware stores, repair garages, farms. They all become lost." He became increasingly more animated. "We will have to become resourceful again but how can we be resource-full if we don't have the resources? Where will those resources be? In landfill? Destroyed by guns? They need to be gathered and the gathering needs to start now." Kendal's voice was raising as his speech became more passionate. "This isn't about crafting or creating: this is about survival!" Kendal was short of breath, his energy making his passion known.

More quietly, Kendal added, "And that, Michael, is why I will not, why I cannot, move all of that stuff. As I said before, it is, I genuinely believe, a matter of life and death."

This is Part 6 in a serialisation I am writing. For Part 5, follow the link below: