Naomi thought.
“No.”
They looked surprised.
“It helped prove what happened.”
“But I don't like saying it saved me.”
“Why?”
“Because that makes it sound like I needed proof before I deserved not to be hit.”
The room quieted.
Naomi continued.
“The camera protected evidence.”
“The officer handled the evidence.”
“The process created consequences.”
“All useful.”
“But the boundary existed before any of them.”
She smiled slightly.
“I said don't enter.”
“That should have been enough.”
Years later, Naomi returned to Willow Glen for Tracy’s seventieth birthday.
The neighborhood looked almost identical.
Different cars.
Larger trees.
Her old house had been repainted.
She drove past slowly.
The gate was new.
Higher latch.
Naomi laughed.
Tracy noticed.
“What?”
“They listened.”
“To what?”
Naomi pointed.
“The latch.”
Tracy laughed.
They stopped.
The current homeowner happened to be outside.
He recognized Naomi from neighborhood history.
“Ms. Carter?”
“Naomi.”
He invited them in.
He asked.
That mattered.
Naomi entered through the gate.
The porch had changed.
Different chairs.
New planter.
Same basic railing.
The doorbell camera had been upgraded twice.
The homeowner pointed.
“Still have one.”
“Good.”
He showed her the side outlet.
“Previous owner told me there was a story.”
Naomi smiled.
“There was.”
“Want to use the leaf blower?”
She laughed.
“No.”
“Come on.”
“No.”
Tracy shouted:
“Do it.”
Naomi eventually accepted.
The electric blower was lightweight.
Quiet compared with the old one.
She stepped into the driveway.
Started it.
Leaves moved.
Nothing happened.
No pounding.
No green suit.
No police.
No phone camera.
Just leaves.
Naomi shut it off after thirty seconds.
The homeowner laughed.
“Worth it?”
“Yes.”
She handed it back.
Then looked toward the sidewalk.
She remembered herself at thirty-eight.
Work gloves.
Anger.
Confusion.
A woman entering after being told no.
At the time, the confrontation felt enormous.
Years later, its outline was simpler.
A boundary was stated.
Someone decided their title made the boundary optional.
Everything followed from that.
Naomi and Tracy walked back toward the birthday gathering.
Tracy asked:
“You ever wish you hit her back?”
Naomi laughed.
“No.”
“Never?”
“Maybe for four seconds.”
“That counts.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
Naomi thought.
“Because then the camera would've shown two people hitting each other.”
“Instead of one.”
“Yes.”
“Smart.”
“Scared.”
Tracy looked at her.
Naomi continued.
“I knew exactly how quickly the story could become complicated.”
Tracy understood.
They walked.
“That sucks.”
“Yes.”