Drank beer on his back deck.
When he saw me, his expression tightened.
“Jim.”
“Cody.”
“What’s going on?”
“What do you mean?”
“Half the neighborhood acts like I poisoned somebody’s dog.”
He rubbed the back of his neck.
“I don’t want to be in the middle.”
“The middle of what?”
He looked toward the convenience store.
Then back at me.
“Gail held a homeowner meeting.”
“When?”
“Last week.”
“About me?”
“About the lake.”
“What did she say?”
Jim hesitated.
Then:
“She said you were trying to privatize it.”
I actually laughed.
“It is private.”
“I know what you mean.”
“No, Jim. It literally is.”
“She said you were trying to fence residents away from an amenity they’d paid for.”
“Paid for how?”
He looked uncomfortable.
“I don’t know.”
“What else?”
“She said you threatened legal action against homeowners who came near the shoreline.”
“I never said that.”
“She showed part of your letter.”
“What part?”
“Something about riparian rights and legal basis.”
“She showed the deed?”
“No.”
“The survey?”
“No.”
“County certification?”
“I didn’t see any.”
Of course.
Jim continued.
“She circulated a petition.”
“What petition?”
“Protect Our Lake.”
I stared.
“How many?”
“More than forty signatures.”
Forty neighbors.
People whose kids had fished my water with permission.
People who had eaten tomatoes from my garden.
People who had waved for years.
Now they thought I was stealing something from them.
Not because they had checked the title.
Because Gail stood at a podium and told them a story.
I drove home angry for the first time.
Not irritated.
Angry.
She had taken the letter I sent in good faith, extracted pieces, and used those pieces to frame me as a threat.
Then Jim called three days later.
His voice was low.
“Gail called a closed board meeting tonight.”
“For what?”
“You.”
“I’m not an HOA member.”
“That’s part of her argument.”
“What does that mean?”
“She says because you aren’t a dues-paying member, you have no right to challenge board determinations about the lake.”
I almost dropped the phone.
“The board determinations about my property.”
“I know.”
“What’s she asking for?”
“A resolution declaring you an unauthorized trespasser on HOA common property.”
I sat down.
“I sent every director certified documents.”
Jim was quiet.
Then:
“I don’t think they read them.”
“They signed for them.”
“Gail told them your packet was a legal threat and they should give everything to counsel without opening it.”
That explained the silence.
“She wants authority to take enforcement action,” Jim said.
“What does that mean?”
“I heard criminal trespass referral.”
The board voted that evening.
I learned the result two mornings later.