We did not leave it opening directly into nothing.
Reflective temporary barrier panels had been positioned along my side of the crossing, visible through the gate. The HOA still had an immediate duty to secure its side, but nobody could reasonably walk through unaware that the bridge was gone.
Tommy looked across the ravine.
“That is the most expensive door to nowhere I’ve ever seen.”
I laughed for the first time in days.
At seven-thirty, Greg Tolson arrived in his golf cart.
I watched from an Adirondack chair with coffee.
He parked.
Walked to the gate.
Entered the code.
The iron panels swung open.
Then Greg stopped.
Completely.
For several seconds he simply stared.
The bridge he had apparently considered subject to HOA control no longer existed.
Only creek.
Ravine.
Morning fog.
And my reflective barricade beyond.
I raised my coffee.
“Morning, Greg.”
His head snapped toward me.
“Collins!”
“Good morning.”
“What did you do?”
“Structural maintenance.”
“Where is the bridge?”
“On my property.”
“That was community access infrastructure!”
“No.”
His face turned red.
“You put it back right now.”
“Do you have a bridge easement?”
“You know damn well—”
“Recorded easement?”
Greg pointed across the ravine.
“You’ve lost your mind.”
“Possible.”
Then Brenda arrived.
She did not drive calmly.
The Range Rover stopped crooked across Sycamore Drive.
She jumped out wearing workout clothes and a long coat.
“What have you done?”
“I removed my bridge.”
“You destroyed community property!”
“Nothing belonging to Oak Creek was touched.”
“That bridge connects to our road.”
“Not anymore.”
Her eyes moved toward the stored girders visible through my trees.
“You can’t just remove infrastructure.”
“I own it.”
“We will have you arrested.”
“Call Jenkins.”
She did.
Officer Jenkins arrived fifteen minutes later.
He parked.
Walked to the gate.
Looked through it.
Then looked at me.
I watched his mouth tighten.
He was trying not to smile.
“Morning, Noah.”
“Morning.”
Brenda rushed toward him.
“Arrest him.”
“For?”
“Destruction of infrastructure.”
Jenkins looked at the gate.
“Gate looks fine.”
“He removed the bridge.”
Jenkins checked his notes.
“The bridge identified on yesterday’s documentation as Mr. Collins’s private structure?”
“That interpretation is contested.”
“Do you have a recorded easement?”
Brenda changed direction.
“He has created a deadly hazard.”
Jenkins nodded.
“That part we should address.”
For the first time, Brenda looked relieved.
Then Jenkins pointed at her gate.
“You installed a motorized pedestrian and vehicle barrier opening toward a ravine crossing you do not own. Now that the private crossing is gone, your gate terminates at a drop.”
“He caused that.”
“You were warned he might decommission the bridge.”
Silence.
“His attorney sent your counsel notice.”
Brenda looked at Greg.
Greg looked elsewhere.
Jenkins called county code enforcement.