She stared at me for several seconds.
Then turned.
“Come on, Jerry.”
They left.
Five minutes later, my phone rang.
Big Tony.
His actual name was Anthony Marino, but nobody called him Anthony except his wife when she was angry. He owned a fencing company, stood nearly six-five, and had a personality large enough to make every room feel smaller.
“You still need that fence?”
“Yes.”
“You got HOA trouble?”
“How did you hear that?”
Tony laughed.
“Patty Pringle.”
“You know her?”
“Everybody knows her.”
I leaned against the kitchen counter.
“What’d she do to you?”
“She once tried fining my crew because the truck was facing the wrong direction.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Something about visual rhythm.”
I laughed.
“I need six feet of privacy fence along the back.”
“County legal?”
“Yes.”
“HOA approval?”
“No.”
Tony became quiet.
“Michael.”
“Yeah?”
“You want a fence or a war?”
“Fence.”
“Same answer.”
Chapter 4: The Fence
Tony arrived Saturday morning with two workers.
Patricia arrived eighteen minutes later.
I know because I wrote down the time.
She rolled up in the golf cart, parked crookedly beside my driveway, and jumped out before the cart had fully stopped.
“Stop construction.”
Tony kept digging.
Patricia raised her voice.
“I said stop.”
Tony leaned on his shovel.
“We have a county permit.”
“You do not have architectural approval.”
“The fence is within municipal code.”
“That is irrelevant.”
Tony looked at me.
“She always this cheerful?”
“Mostly.”
Patricia pointed toward the first post.
“These dimensions violate community standards.”
I said:
“Then send that argument through the formal review process.”
“You were instructed not to make exterior modifications.”
“I applied.”
“And the board hasn't approved it.”
“You also never responded within the review period stated in your own rules.”
That irritated her.
People like Patricia liked rules.
They liked them much less when somebody else read them.
She stepped toward me.
“You think you're clever.”
“No.”
“I think I read.”
Her face reddened.
“You will regret treating this board like an enemy.”
“I don't.”
“You clearly do.”
“I’m asking the board to follow its own process.”
She leaned closer.
“I can put a lien on this house.”
Tony stopped digging.
The two workers looked up.
Patricia continued.
“I can make this property impossible to sell.”
I stared at her.
“Are you threatening me?”
“I’m informing you.”
Behind her, Tony quietly pulled out his phone.
Camera on.
I saw it.
Patricia did not.
She eventually returned to the golf cart and drove away.
That evening, I received another notice.
HARASSMENT OF HOA OFFICIAL.
I read it three times.
Then started laughing.
Atlas looked at me.
“We need a bigger binder.”
Chapter 5: The Story Changes
The fines continued.
Then the rumors started.
A neighbor named Harold Bennett stopped me one morning while I was walking Atlas.
“Hey, Michael.”
“Morning.”