The next day, on my way out, various boxes were blocking my path. Jade was doing her fortnightly, ‘clean up’, that is pushing crap from one side of the room to another.
I went to move a box when Jade shouted; “Don’t touch them! I’ll move them!” with the violence of an axe murderer.
I pasted a smile on my face, stood and waited for her to do it, thanked her and went racing out.
Jade hated for anyone to touch her rubbish. Even to throw out her garbage. To touch her things, to yell at her cats, were offences which got her a step or two from homicidal. And when she got angry, one could see the insanity bubbling under her skin.
Jade developed a shrieking hatred for the landlady. The landlady who had served her an eviction notice and was taking her to court. Jade could viciously babble about this poor woman who had fallen for her lies.
The landlady, who had allowed Jade to move in, who permitted her to fill the ‘shared space’ with rubbish. The woman to whom Jade owed so much rent.
Once Jade began to speak about the landlady she would get louder and louder, her insanity pouring onto the veranda. Huffing and puffing, fully engrossed in her babble.
Jade could not pay rent. Jade had no money. So Jade cursed the landlady. Jade behaved as if she had a reason not to pay the rent.