The first garbage bag hit my swimming pool at 4:17 on a Saturday afternoon. It landed with a heavy splash, sending blue water across the pale stone coping and soaking the expensive white flats of the woman who had thrown it. She stood at the edge of my pool wearing a bright-pink blazer, fitted white trousers, oversized sunglasses, and a thick gold necklace, looking almost pleased with herself as the black plastic bag slowly rolled in the water. Then she lifted a second bag, swung it with both hands, and threw it into the deep end.
I was standing inside my kitchen when I heard the second splash.
At first, I thought my daughter had jumped into the pool without telling me. She was eleven, loved swimming, and had spent most of the morning asking whether she could invite her friends over the following day. But when I looked through the sliding glass doors, I saw something that made absolutely no sense.
The former president of our homeowners association was standing beside our pool, deliberately dumping garbage into it.
A large gray wheeled trash bin stood behind her near the wooden privacy fence. The two black bags floating in the water were bulging with refuse, and one had begun leaking an ugly trail of debris. The woman was reaching toward the bin again when I pulled open the patio door.
"What the hell are you doing?"
She turned toward me.
Her blonde hair was twisted into a loose bun, and her sunglasses slipped slightly down her nose as she looked me over. I was wearing a cobalt-blue T-shirt, navy lounge pants, and black house slippers. I'd been working from home all morning and hadn't bothered changing because Saturday was supposed to be a quiet day with my family.
The woman looked at my clothes, then toward the pool.
"Finally," she said. "I was wondering when you'd come outside."
I stepped onto the patio.
"Did you just throw garbage into my pool?"
She lifted her chin.
"I'm conducting an emergency community sanitation action."
I stared at her.
"You're doing what?"
She gestured toward the black bags.
"This pool has been the subject of repeated complaints. Since you refuse to cooperate, I'm demonstrating how serious the problem is."
For several seconds, I couldn't speak.
My swimming pool had been professionally serviced three days earlier. The water was clear, the equipment was working properly, and the surrounding deck had been cleaned that morning. There were no visible sanitation problems, no strange smells, and no reason for anyone to enter our fenced backyard without permission.