The doorbell echoed around the house for the fifth time as the mint green garbed nurse rapped on the door loudly.
"Hello? Mr Jenkins?"
A series of grumbles and muttered foul mouthed swears were muffled through the oak door as the aformentioned occupent tried to open the door.
"Damn doors. Never do what I tell 'em to." He muttered as he swung open the door with surprising strength.
"What!" He yelled, as the middle aged woman did her best to stay impartial.
She tried to sound calm and friendly as she clutched her bag and clipboard tightly to stop her hands from shaking.
"Hello, my name is Joy. I'm from Mindful Care assistance. I'm here to discuss your care package today. May I come in?"
Jenkins did not budge, his knarled hand gripped the door with uncanny strength as he sized up the young girl in her twenties. She kept his hardened gaze as the door slowly edged open as the ninety three year old man shuffled off without a word, leaving the door wide enough for her to get through.
'I'll take that as a yes.' She thought to herself.
Joy strode through the narrow hallway as various bits and bobs of machinery jutted out from old angles, an old cuckoo clock sat upended as the bird cuckooed every few seconds as if still on the fritz.
"Shut it!" He roared as her passed the cuckoo clock, its beak seemingly clamping shut at the command.
Joy couldn't help but raise an eyebrow as Mr Jenkins shut the door to his workshop and continued on towards his kitchen where a variety of items began hissing and spitting noises at their owner.
"Don't mind them." He gesured wildly to the array of kitchen utensils.
The kettle whistled loudly as boiling water sputtered over the edge of the spout as the tap dripped ominously alongside it. The pots and pans rattled loudly inside the dishwasher as all the other utensils either looked poised to strike or backed away in fear.
Joy only nodded and smiled kindly as she stayed close behind him. She knew how bad this area could be in regards to living standards. The electricity was always short circuiting, the water only sometimes worked and the flats were very old and cramped.
She had been briefly informed of his situation by his relatives. He was in his late stages of dementia, stubborn, demanding and generally difficult to deal with. He had no relatives close by and had already managed to drive away four other carers from his doorstep with his crotchety demeanour and overall horrid nature towards anyone and anything.
Some barely made it though the door without recieving verbal abuse which caused her predecesors to run for the hills.
Literally.
But Joy was willing to listen regardless of how his family thought. Stubborn or not, she would do her job. Without even realising it, her client had moved into the adjecent living room.817Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwLtDKJBY5B
She caught up with him only to be met with a moth eaten couch shrouded in magazine clippings and doodles as Mr Jenkins decided to sit down in the seat next to it, felling the clippings like tree trunks as he knocked them away in one fell swoop.
"Well?" He demanded, pointing at the couch as if scolding a naughty child.
Joy felt compelled to do as he said as she gingerly sat down on the brown, dusty couch. Despite there being a dining room with a perfectly good set of chairs and a large table, he had decided to go through this ordeal in the most cluttered room of the house.
She cast her thoughts aside as she brought out the necessary paperwork for him to go through and took out a pen from her top pocket, clipping the sheets to the already full clipboard before smoothing her uniform out and placing the clipboard on her knee as best she could before preparing to write.
"Now then, Mr Jenkins. Before I go over the terms of your package, would you like to tell me a little about yourself?"
For the first time since her arrival, he didn't yell at her.
"No point. That lot put you up to this, didn't they? They told you all they need to know." He scoffed grumpily.
Joy smiled sympathetically. "Your family care about you very much. They only want what's best for you."
"No they ruddy don't. Tell the truth." Mr Jenkins demanded.
Joy sat bolt upright, the clipboard clattering to the ground as she was caught under his hypnotic gaze, unable to move. Speak. Breathe. Unless she told the truth of his daughter's words.
"They are afraid. They think you're crazy because you think you have powers. They told me get your trust, that they needed information about something. Something valuable. They said they'd pay me if I took you on as a client, despite the warnings."
Joy gasped for air, her entire body shaking as his hold over her broke. The words had fallen from her lips without even realising it. Mr Jenkins gave a rare smile. It was kind, understanding and soon turned into a booming laugh as he slowly rocked on his chair, suddenly breaking into a coughing fit.
Joy put her head in her hands, trying to calm herself down as Mr Jenkins coughing subsided.
"Calm yourself, girl." He said quietly as she suddenly felt her body instantly relax.
"What-" she began, trying to understand what just happened.
"I hypnotised you." He explained. "With my voice mainly. Eye contact works best though. It runs in the family. The older you get, the stronger it becomes."
Joy thought for a little while.
"So, this was all a plot?"
Mr Jenkins nodded, as if agreeing on what to have for dinner instead of a seemingly supernatural scheme.
My family want me gone for good so they use rather mundane methods to get me, offering riches and fame galore to anyone and everyone around me. You got caught in their trap. I expected that. It's been going on for months." He said, casually.
Joy stared at him in disbelief.
"Months? But that's barbaric!"
Mr Jenkins shrugged, grinning toothily at the thought. "You should've seen my inlaws.
Joy didn't know how to process all this information so he decided to explain further.
"When I die, the one who I feel most worthy gets my power. My oldest daughter thinks it should be her but we fought and she's been trying to kill me ever since."
Joy thought back to her collegues, hoping they hadn't obtained a sudden murderous streak.
"Does that include your previously assigned carers?" She asked warily.
He chuckled as Joy felt a weight off her shoulders.
"Oh, no! Not by a long shot. Those ladies were weak willed, they couldn't even get past my front door. To think, bested by a ninety three year old."
Joy couldn't help but giggle alongside him. The most recent attempt to provide Mr Jenkins with a care package had been a fifty eight year old woman called Gladys Allbright. She had returned to the office crying with a severe limp spouting about a old coot with an umbrella.
She couldn't have been more wrong.
"Y'know my Annie tried to get the milkman to poison my milk? The poor guy didn't know his poisons from his plants and turned the milk GREEN. Green I tell you! He tried to sell it off to me as some new health drink!" He continued on, laughing as he told story after story of his daughters failed assassination attempts.
Joy hadn't laughed this hard in a long time, her sides were hurting from laughing so much. Despite the odd situation, she couldn't help but enjoy his storytelling.
"Only last week she sent that damn cuckoo clock in the mail. The postman almost fainted when he tried to deliver it. He couldn't sell hair to a bald man, the fool."
Joy couldn't help but be curious, she felt like a child listening to her own grandfather's tales again as she chuckled alongside him. "So how did you deal with it? You can't hypnotise inanimate objects, can you?"
Mr Jenkins smiled knowingly, his gaze falling towards the still hissing kettle which could just about be seen through the open door. The kettle suddenly silenced as Joy couldn't help but applaud him.
"That's unbelievable! Are you telekinetic too?" She questioned as he shook his head.
"No, no. It's about the command. The conviction to convince whatever you need to happen, will happen. With age comes understanding." Mr Jenkins said, as Joy hung onto every word.
He spoke quite quietly but she could hear him as clear as day, despite its gravelly nature. But Joy couldn't help but worry. Her shift was over soon at it would be obvious, even without hypnotising her that she had failed to win him over.
"So, what do I do now? You know why I'm here. There's not much point going through a care package that neither of you want." She reminded him, collecting her things and stuffing them into her bag.
"Hang on a moment." He stopped her, just as she froze in place and turned to look at him.
"Sit up and listen. Just because I know, doesn't mean my daughter doesn't." He began as Joy sat rigidly listening. 817Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡDNqfc5wNOF
"Fill out the forms which suits the minimum of what my daughter wants. So weekly visits only. None of this around the clock crap. Just for company and odd jobs.Then, if she tries to change your mind tell her that was all you could get me to agree on." Mr Jenkins commanded as he watched her head bob robotically in agreement.
Joy may not have been able to control her own actions but she had to agree it was a good plan. The familar wash of warmth flooded through her as he dropped his command over her.
'Sorry about that." He apologised, yawning tiredly. "It does take a lot outta ya though."
Joy smiled, as she stood up to leave as he watched her go, too tired to stop her. Just as he began regretting his decision, she turned around with a wide grin on her face as he couldn't help but return the favour.
"So, same time next week?"
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