Monday, November 08, 2010

bug spray

‘They’re not like your usual anti-social neighbours. They know how to do it without getting caught. They come out at night. They do it at night, creeping around, squirting bug spray over the fence, soaking the fence with their disgusting chemicals, drilling holes so they can peek through. That’s why I had the CCTV installed, because otherwise you’d only imagine what they were doing and you’d go mad. But now I can catch them at it. They come round the front, lift the flap of the letterbox, and look through - spray through, they’re so vindictive. So spiteful. We’re terrified to go out or do anything. I’ve had rocks thrown into the garden. I daren’t let the cat out, and the dog I have to accompany out back when he needs the loo. We’re prisoners in our own house. They know it’s just me and my son. Thank god James spends half the week with his Dad. At least he gets some sort of break. They know what it’s doing to our health. We’ve been hospitalised with it. We’ve had the environmental health, the housing team, the police. Everyone knows about it but no-one seems willing or able to do anything and it’s absolutely destroying us.’
Mrs Enderby grasps the two hems of her dressing gown tightly together with both hands.
‘I’ve got a headache, shooting pains in the backs of my eyes, down my arms, my ears are ringing, my spine feels as if it’s on fire. I’m sick, dizzy, my chest is tight.’
She sits on the arm of the sofa. ‘But it’s James I’ve called you about.’
James Enderby is neatly arranged on the sofa, his long fair hair partially obscuring the sides of his face; he looks down at the scruffy little terrier lying with its head in his lap, and slowly strokes the fur between its ears.
‘And how are you feeling, James?’
He looks up.
‘I’ve got a headache and my breathing feels a bit tight.’
He holds his hands up; the dog opens its eyes, wondering why the stroking has stopped.
‘Pins and needles,’ he says, then lowers them back down, and carries on with the stroking.
‘We can’t go on like this,’ says Mrs Enderby, struggling not to cry. ‘It’s impossible. It’s a nightmare. I don’t know why no-one’s doing anything.’
The sitting room is so perfectly ordered, a tiny particle of wood I inadvertently walked onto the carpet from outside may as well have a police line around it; the fabric of the sofa has been hoovered to the ticking; a glass-fronted bookcase glints in a corner, each glass shelf with a central display of three figurines, precisely angled in, winged by dustless knick-knacks. A huge Swiss cheese plant rises up to the ceiling, holding a spread of dark, waxy leaves above our heads. There is an ancient cat asleep on a red and gold embroidered cushion beside the pot. It sneezes, then puts a paw over its face.
‘Everyone’s affected,’ says Mrs Enderby, getting up when she hears a car in the street outside and the motion detection lights snap on. The police.
‘They’re out in the front garden spraying all day and night,’ she says, dropping the curtain and moving to the hall. ‘They know what it’s doing to our health. We’ve had the windows shut all summer.’
She lets in two police officers. We hear her going through the latest developments in the hallway, her voice rising and falling in a monotonous sine wave of horror.
James carries on stroking the dog.
‘How’s your breathing now?’
‘A little better,’ he says.

16 comments:

tpals said...

Was this episode as surreal as it reads?

Spence Kennedy said...

It was very bizarre. The call was given as a breathing problem, but a couple of minutes after we got there it was pretty apparent we were dealing with something else entirely...

Anonymous said...

esh, this one is scary. There is certainly something to be said for the health effects of neighbors spraying chemicals, but...

Spence Kennedy said...

It was def a scary scene - really intense. I wanted to tuck the kid under my arm and run off down the road... And all the while, the CCTV screens in the hallway, showing the back & front of the house. It reminded me too much of Paranormal Activity! :/

kario said...

How sad! Makes you wonder what happened to make her so afraid of everything.

Spence Kennedy said...

As so often with these things, we just get to see the acute fall-out of something that's taken a long while to develop. You do wonder about the whole story, though. I know that other agencies were about to get involved, so hopefully everyone will get the help they need.

Thanks for the comment, Kario.

Anonymous said...

Were their dead bodies found next door or something - what's with all the spraying?

wisewoman60 said...

Your writing is well done. This could be a novel or a work of fiction. I enjoyed reading.

Spence Kennedy said...

Hey Alan
Well, you can never be too sure...
According to Mrs E., the neighbours had gone mad spraying for garden insects, trying to keep them out of the house. But we didn't actually get to speak to them (or even see them).

Thanks WW
Some of these scenarios are so bizarre I'd struggle to make them up. In this one alone there's probably enough material for a book, a housing project, a rip-resistant, quick-fit jacket and a new branch of psychology... :/

Jane Brideson said...

Brilliantly written and such a strange scene to attend.
Hope that they were helped.
I think this one will be staying with me.........

BB said...

Hi...Found you through Blogs of Note and loved the first 2. Can't wait to check out the rest. As an EMT you are to be commended. My late husband had to have paramedics on more occasions than I care to remember and they were the best. Very caring and very calming.

Barb.
bouncinbarbs.blogspot.com

Spence Kennedy said...

Hey Jane
The two incidental details that haunt me about that job were the gigantic plant dominating the living room - taking it over - and the crackly grey CCTV screen in the hall. *shiver*

Thanks BB
Sorry to hear about your husband. I'm so glad the local crews were able to help.

Cheers for your comments!

A is for ART said...

Brilliant story!!!
Thanks for your comment, if you need some illustration, ask me;-)
greetings from hamburg,
julia

Spence Kennedy said...

Cheers Julia! :)

Roti said...

Very well described!

Spence Kennedy said...

Thanks v much, Roti!