The Hoarder, Part 2 of 4

 Milton hung up, gloomily picturing the oaks in his front yard coldly evaluating all the stuff in his house in their new role as "decision trees."  Monday was too soon. "Dr. Thimble isn't even giving me time to get organized," he moaned.  He pictured a corps of masked aliens in green jumpsuits, swarming through his house with a prurient interest in his things, while the trees in the front yard waited to be called upon to render decisions. He felt panic, then fury.

"Well?" asked Martha, brightly.

"Guess they'll be here Monday morning," he said, keeping his voice even.

Monday came and things didn't go well.  Martha eyed Dr. Lessing warily. Why did Dr. Thimble think they needed her anyway?  They were already paying him plenty. His job was easy enough. He was supposed to tell Milton what to do and then see that he did it. Here was this naive young thing trying to take charge. Martha didn't like the way she asked Milton's permission to tour the house, as if the house belonged only to him.  After poking around longer than Martha thought necessary, Dr. Lessing hugged them both and said, "We can do this!  Let's gather everyone out in the driveway."

As soon as everyone, including the clean-up crew (wearing orange jumpsuits) was standing in a circle, she explained the rules. Three bins stood in the yard, marked "keep," "toss" and "maybe." A curbside dumpster stood ready for trash and garbage. At the end of her speech, she had everyone, including Dr. Thimble, join hands and chant, "Let's do it! Let's do it! Let's do it!"

Milton looked as if he were about to cry.  Dr. Lessing, who now wished to be called Emily, hugged him and said, "Remember, Milton, it's a process.  You always have the final say.