He had already marked the outline of the new garden bed.
The area followed the edge of the property, curving naturally around the corner before widening where Brenda usually parked.
At approximately seven o'clock, he heard a diesel engine approaching.
A large landscaping truck turned onto the street.
It slowed beside his driveway.
The driver leaned out the window.
"Arthur Mitchell?"
"That's me."
"Three tons of mulch?"
Arthur smiled.
"That's right."
The driver looked toward the yard.
"Big project?"
Arthur glanced at the damaged grass.
"You could say that."
The truck backed carefully into position.
A few minutes later, the delivery began.
Fresh, dark mulch spilled from the truck into large piles near the driveway.
The smell of newly processed wood filled the morning air.
Arthur watched the material accumulate.
There was more of it than most people would expect from a simple garden project.
Three tons was a substantial amount.
Enough to create broad planting beds across the corner and still leave material for other sections of the yard.
When the driver finished, Arthur signed the delivery receipt.
The truck pulled away.
He was alone with three enormous piles of mulch.
And less than an hour before Brenda usually arrived.
Arthur went to work.
He had already prepared the outline of the garden bed, so he began spreading mulch across the damaged section of lawn.
He worked carefully.
The material was loose and dark.
It settled into the ruts Brenda's tires had carved.
He spread it outward, creating a broad, soft bed along the exact section of grass where her SUV usually stopped.
The depth varied with the uneven ground.
Where the tire tracks had sunk into the soil, more material was needed to fill the depressions.
Where the grass remained level, he spread the mulch evenly to blend with the rest of the planned landscaping.
He shaped the edges neatly.
He made the bed look like part of an ordinary yard improvement.
From the street, the dark mulch formed a broad planting area.
There were no warning signs.
No confrontation.
No argument waiting to happen.
Just a homeowner improving his own landscaping.
Arthur continued working as the morning grew brighter.
He spread the material.
Smoothed the surface.
Checked the outline.
And stepped back occasionally to make sure the new bed looked balanced against the rest of the lawn.
By the time he finished the main section, the corner looked completely different.
The damaged grass was hidden beneath a wide expanse of fresh mulch.
The planting area curved naturally around the corner.
The loose material remained soft beneath the surface.
Arthur looked at his watch.
7:54 a.m.
He carried his shovel toward the porch.
Set it beside the steps.
Then sat down with his coffee.
The neighborhood was beginning to wake.
A few cars passed.
Someone across the street rolled a trash bin toward the curb.
A dog barked briefly.
Arthur waited.
At 8:03, a familiar silver SUV appeared at the end of the block.
He recognized it immediately.
Brenda Kensington was right on schedule.