The operator believed it had received authorization from the association.
Arthur returned home to an empty parking space.
He spent hours making calls before learning where the vehicle had been taken.
The towing company later placed the truck on hold while the dispute was examined, and the vehicle was eventually returned. But the experience left Arthur frightened and furious.
He'd paid some expenses to recover access to it and had retained counsel to determine what reimbursement or other remedies might be available.
The worst part, he told Isaiah, wasn't the money.
It was the way Pamela treated him afterward.
She spoke as though his attachment to the truck was unreasonable.
As though the vehicle mattered only because of its appearance.
As though an elected association officer could decide which memories deserved space in the neighborhood.
Arthur looked toward Isaiah.
"She told me I should be grateful the association was helping improve the community."
Isaiah shook his head.
"What did you say?"
Arthur smiled without humor.
"I told her the community was already better when people minded the limits of their authority."
Isaiah laughed softly.
Then the older man's expression became serious.
"Don't let them take your Mustang, son."
Isaiah looked toward the red pickup.
"They won't."
For a moment, Arthur studied him.
Then nodded.
"Good."
The two men spent almost an hour talking about their families, vehicles, and the neighborhood.
Arthur had been a principal for thirty-one years. He'd spent much of that time helping students who struggled with confidence or came from difficult home circumstances.
He believed young people needed boundaries, encouragement, and consequences that taught responsibility rather than humiliation.
That belief shaped how he viewed Dylan.
"His mother has protected him from every disappointment," Arthur said.
Isaiah nodded.
"That's what it looks like."
Arthur leaned against the truck.
"But when you protect somebody from every consequence, you don't make him strong. You make him dependent on somebody else fixing his mistakes."
Isaiah considered the words.
His father had taught him something similar.
Harold was generous.
But he didn't let Isaiah pretend a mistake was someone else's fault.
When Isaiah damaged a component during the restoration, Harold made him help correct it.
When he ordered the wrong part, he had to deal with the delay.
And when he became impatient, his father reminded him that careful work couldn't be rushed simply because someone wanted results.
Isaiah looked toward Arthur.
"Do you think Pamela understands what she's doing?"
The older man sighed.