“Send cease-and-desist.”
“Board.”
“Management company.”
“Security vendor.”
“Preserve evidence.”
“Ask for accounting.”
“And post a neutral notice on your gate.”
“What notice?”
She dictated:
This pool is privately owned and is not an HOA common element. No HOA representative has authority to sell or grant access. Any passes sold by third parties were issued without owner authorization. Please contact the HOA regarding refunds.
He printed.
Mounted beside keypad.
Monday morning, it was torn down.
Camera showed the HOA President removing it.
He watched twice.
Then sent clip to lawyer.
Her response:
Excellent.
He called.
“You’re enjoying this.”
“No.”
“You wrote excellent.”
“As evidence.”
He laughed once.
She continued.
“Put another sign up.”
“Use screws.”
He did.
Tuesday, a family arrived.
Saw sign.
Turned around.
Another called him through intercom.
“We bought access.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Can our kids swim today?”
“No.”
“Can we get money back?”
“You need to contact the person who sold it.”
“She says you’re refusing to honor agreement.”
“There is no agreement.”
The mother looked exhausted.
“My kids have been asking all morning.”
He looked at two little girls in goggles.
For a second, guilt arrived.
Then he recognized it.
Not responsibility.
Guilt.
Different.
“I’m sorry.”
“But I can’t let this continue.”
She nodded reluctantly.
They left.
By Tuesday evening, neighborhood social media had exploded.
Why is one resident shutting down emergency pool access?
We paid for this.
He knew about program.
HOA says he signed.
Kids are being punished over adult dispute.
Someone posted a picture of the homeowner’s house.
Someone else posted his employer.
The homeowner’s attorney called.
“Stop reading.”
“I need to know what they’re saying.”
“No.”
“You need to know what matters.”
“That page is not court.”
He stopped.
Mostly.
Wednesday morning, the Board Treasurer called.
They had met several times over the years but were not friends.
The Treasurer sounded nervous.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Yes.”
“Did you actually sign temporary access agreement?”
“No.”
Pause.
“President says you did.”
“She has a document with my signature.”
“That sounds like yes.”
“It was copied from another form.”
Another pause.
“Are you sure?”
“My attorney compared files.”
Silence.
The Treasurer lowered voice.
“Board never voted.”
“I know.”
“How?”