Occupied: Day 40

So my lawyer’s assistant called yesterday. We won’t be doing an eviction on Dec. 22. We will be getting an emergency order so I can go inside my own house.

Fascinating.

The guy changed the locks, so the last time I went out to see if he had allowed his dog and cats to cover the floor with feces again (at least I hope it was the dog and cats) we couldn’t get in. He passed us on the road in as we came out, so we went back. But he would not let us in.

This is illegal, but I cannot prosecute over it. That’s interesting to me. One feels the justice side should be errant toward the poorer party, but at a certain point does that mean there is no justice for the person who owns the property? Increasingly, at each point of his illegal actions, no recourse is available. It’s illegal, but so what?

We are not having an eviction on Dec. 22 because Legal Aid has gotten involved and filed several motions asking for documents of disclosure, information on the lease, etc. Each request is accompanied by a request for a separate court date. In other words, Legal Aid would like to cause the person asking for the eviction (me) to spend so much time and money that they drop it. This is a common Legal Aid strategy.

It is also one that most lawyers for those trying to make the eviction happen stand to benefit from financially. So that becomes tricky.

I am mistrustful of my lawyer for not disclosing that he would be away during a critical week of December. It feels like something he should have said when we started this journey. I am unhappy that he has offered several platitudes and reassurances, but not strategy. We have a call coming up. Let’s see what happens.

And I am miserably unhappy with the former friend who introduced me to the guy who is now occupying my property. I never once faulted her for introducing me to him, but recenltly I told her that she would need to testify, since she knew about the terms of the agreement (we made it on her front porch) and the circumstances of him taking up residence (we all drove out there together and inspected it and he asked her permission, basically, before moving out of her house).

Her exact words: “I can’t. I wouldn’t have anything to say.”

The most fascinating part of this process, when one steps back from the pain caused by it, is looking at the human decisions involved.

The guy has to be willing to harm people who did many things to help him. We gifted him a truck. We offered him a great work-for-rent deal. We accepted his need to flex his schedule when he notified us that he had appointments. OK, he’s willing to be a person who will do anything to get what he wants, and he has grown up in a world where this kind of behavior was normal, accepted, smart even.

My friend has decided “not to take sides.” She is watching me deal with a financial and emotional burden she has direct knowledge of, and holding herself disassociated from it all.

This feels like a worse betrayal than the guy, in all honesty. I expected better from her, if nothing else for his sake. Accountability may have to be an acquired skill, but can we get through life without it?

It feels unnecessary, this fight to take back what is mine. Had the guy fulfilled the terms of the agreement, he could have stayed. And it feels lonely. Friends don’t ask, and some friends turned out not to be. That part is hard.

A Beautiful Day, and a Long One

Saturday past was our Christmas Market. That’s when the medical students who have spent the year working with a rent-controlled apartment complex (making meals, playing sports, running crafts and edutainments) bring all their donations and spread them out on tables. Kids come with a list of people they want to find presents for, and shop with help from a med student. Everything is free.

Then they get the presents gift wrapped (we always get the future surgeons to do this; they make the best wrappers) and go home happy. They got to choose things and a bunch of adults paid attention to them. The med students go home happy from making the kids happy. The parents are ecstatic because we’ve solved a problem looming large in their mind.

Some people told us early on that we were being terrible, taking yard sale leftovers and presenting them as giftables.

Those people didn’t know shit. One of the kids, walking around looking at all the donations, said “This is the most generous place I’ve ever been to. This is awesome.”

The med students arrived at 9 am and we spread out the stuff. The market opened at 2. One of the med students discovered there was a Santa suit, and he went off with it when we broke for lunch. Since he was about 21, skinny like a beanpole, and Hindu, I had my doubts, but he came back with a squishmallow strapped to his stomach, the beard on askew, and a large tub of candy canes he picked up at Walmart “to make it official.”

His “Ho Ho Ho” came out “hu hu hu” and the kids LOVED him. We ran out of tape and started packing presents into donated purses and backpacks, then slapping bows on these. “Double presents” we told the kids, with just a hint of mania behind our Christmas cheer.

It was a glorious day. The parents thanked us, the kids left sticky candy canes all over the place, and the med students removed several sharp implements from the donations as we spread them out. We went home covered in tape, tinsel, and joy.

This is Christmas.