"Then tell the officers where they can contact you."
I wasn't going to physically prevent them from leaving.
The young man stared at me.
For the first time, he looked more frightened of his mother than of me.
She turned sharply toward him.
"Put your phone away."
He shoved it into the pocket of his hoodie.
I noticed the movement.
So did my neighbor.
Across the street, an elderly man was standing on his front porch holding his own phone.
He had lived in the neighborhood for nearly thirty years and had known my father longer than I'd been alive. He had helped us push the Mustang into the garage when its engine failed during my teenage years, and he still came over occasionally to ask whether I needed another pair of hands.
He called toward me.
"Everything all right over there?"
I looked up.
"Nobody's hurt."
He glanced toward the Mustang.
"That boy kicked your car."
The young man's face flushed.
"I didn't!"
My neighbor stared at him.
"Son, I'm old, not blind."
The HOA president turned toward the porch.
"This is private association business."
My neighbor laughed.
"That might be the first funny thing you've said all morning."
She looked offended.
He continued.
"That house isn't in your association. It wasn't in your association when his daddy lived there either."
The woman's jaw tightened.
"Property boundaries are more complicated than you understand."
My neighbor raised his phone.
"Maybe. But a shoe hitting a fender isn't."
I looked toward him.
"Did you record it?"
He nodded.
"Started when she began pointing at your face."
I exhaled.
"Please keep the original recording. The responding officers may want a copy."
"Already saved it."
The HOA president looked from his phone to mine.
Then toward the garage.
For the first time, I saw her notice the security camera above the doorway.
It was small, mounted beneath the overhang, and pointed toward the driveway. Another camera covered the side entrance, primarily because we'd had tools stolen from a nearby shed several months earlier.
Her expression changed.
"Are you recording us?"
I looked toward the camera.
"The system records my property."
She stared at it.
Then she looked toward her son.
He swallowed.
"Mom..."
The woman lifted one hand.
"Don't say anything."