The Hoarder

Michael held up his iPad as a shield but the old man only wanted to shake his hand.

"Kendal McIntyre," the old man proffered his hand to shake. "I'm so sorry I completely forgot my manners. Pleased to meet you."

Michael was once more completely taken aback. He was also a little shame-faced as he moved his iPad away from its defensive position and took the man's hand. He tried to get up himself as it felt strange having this old man, this Kendal McIntyre, standing over him, expectantly while he sat but his attempt at rising was awkward, hindered as he was by holding the welcoming hand of another and being quite firmly wedged into the armchair.

"Michael Moore," he managed to say, his position ungainly, half up, half down.

"Pleasure to meet you, Michael," Kendal said, shaking Michael's hand firmly.

Michael's core was unable to hold his pose and he sank backwards heavily into the chair, a spring letting out a small squeal as his weight descended. Kendal moved back to his seat and free of his tea, lowered himself down into the chair using the arms for balance.

"Michael Moore, eh. Like the American film director?"

This was not within Michael's sphere of reference - there was a film director called Michael Moore? - but he nodded politely.

"And I'm Kendal, like the mint cake," and Kendal let out a laugh. "Although I don't think I'm quite as sweet." He looked directly at Michael as he said this, expectingly. Michael had never heard of Kendal Mint Cake either so this conversation was becoming increasingly more baffling. He went to say something, to finally start his mission, but Kendal beat him to it.

"'Bowling for Columbine'. That's the name of the film, the documentary he was most famous for."

Michael must have shown the confusion on his face as Kendal continued in response, "Michael Moore. He directed it, was in it too. 'Bowling for Columbine'. It's very good. School shootings, you know, in America and firearm deaths." Kendal looked pensive and then added, thoughtfully, "America does love its guns."

"Oh," Michael managed to say. "I've never seen it."

Kendal nodded and brought his hands to his lips, palms together thoughtfully, looking directly at Michael. "Well, I can recommend it. Very thought-provoking."

Michael's senses were on high alert. He was becoming acutely aware of the unusualness of his situation. Kendal seemed benign but then hadn't Fred West? He was sure that he'd read that killers are the masters of manipulation and now he was in a conversation about guns in the house of someone who could just be pretending to be stable.

"I'll check it out," Michael said, politely in a bid to regain control of the direction he wanted this encounter to take, knowing full well that he would not check it out at all. Not even for curiosity's sake.

Wanting to keep the momentum going, he blurted: "Mr. McIntyre, I don't know if you know why I'm here but it's as a representative of the Council." He paused. "It's about the state of your property, I'm afraid. You see, there have been a number of complaints and at Environmental Health, we are compelled to act on them, to investigate."

Michael felt that had gone well. The ball was rolling.

Kendal had sat very still while Michael had spoken, his fingers still by his lips in pensive poise. He said, "I see" and moved his hands to the arms of the chair, resting his fingertips on the trim. He continued: "Please. Call me Kendal," and then, "What exactly have the complaints been about?"

Michael felt like it was obvious but expanded his explanation. "It's all of the stuff that you have on the front of your property. There have been complaints that it is an eyesore, or the accumulation of stuff is, that is, and more importantly, that it is unsanitary. There have been reports of," and here, Michael suppressed a shudder, "rats."

Kendal's eyes widened in response and he quietly said, "I see," again in the same thoughtful way as before.

Michael plunged ahead - he'd come this far and there was no shouting, no asking him to leave, no throwing of things - and so, he delivered his message. "I'm here to serve notice that if these things are not removed in 60 days, then we will seek to have a third party come in and remove them. We will get approval via the court, if need be."

His message delivered, Michael felt lighter. People couldn't be allowed to just live like this. There should be some consideration for others and he felt justified in passing the message on. He didn't like it but it was necessary.

Kendal drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair. "I see," he said again and then added, "60 days, you say? To remove the "stuff"?" Kendal said "stuff" in such a way as to make it seem unfamiliar as a noun designed to group things together. Michael felt like he'd insulted the old man in some way with the way that Kendal stated the word.

"Yes," Michael said. "60 days."

Kendal stopped drumming and sat very still. However, his eyes were darting back and forth as if he was searching his brain for information before speaking.

"Michael?"

"Yes," Michael said.

"I'm afraid that I cannot comply with your instruction. I'm sorry."

Michael supposed that his mouth was wide with surprise but in that moment, he was less focused on how he may have looked and centred on the acute shock he felt in his gut. He was about to protest when Kendal spoke again, quietly and respectfully.

"I'd like to explain why, if I may." Kendal leant back in his chair, his hands once more together at his lips, his fingers steepled. His calm control made Michael nervous. He was used to anger, defiance, emotion bursting out of people, not reasonable and rational behaviour. "I understand the concerns of you and my neighbours but on this, I must demur."

Michael didn't know what "demur" meant but he got the general gist.

"I'm afraid, Mr. McIntyre", Michael said with firmness that he wasn't necessarily feeling, "that you will not have a choice in the matter."

Kendal's eyebrows went up by a centimetre but he said nothing.

And then, just when Michael was thinking that no explanation was coming, Kendal began to speak.

This is part two in a serialisation I am writing. The link is below: