Enough.
“Don't touch me!”
The volume of Naomi’s voice finally reached the neighboring yard.
A man two houses over looked up from washing his car.
Marjorie saw him.
Then looked at Naomi.
She reached into her handbag.
Pulled out her phone.
Naomi thought she was filming.
She was not.
“911.”
Naomi stared.
Marjorie turned away slightly.
“Yes, I need police.”
Naomi almost laughed from disbelief.
“There has been an assault.”
Naomi’s mouth opened.
Marjorie continued.
“My neighbor became violent when I attempted to deliver an HOA violation.”
Naomi looked toward the front door.
Above it sat her doorbell camera.
She became very still.
Marjorie did not notice.
“Yes.”
Pause.
“I'm still here.”
Another pause.
“No, I don't know if she has weapons.”
Naomi’s jaw tightened.
That sentence landed differently.
She stepped backward toward the door.
Not reaching inside.
Not moving suddenly.
Just increasing distance.
Marjorie kept talking.
“She is extremely agitated.”
Naomi said:
“Tell them you entered after I told you not to.”
Marjorie covered the phone.
“Stop talking.”
Naomi stared.
“Tell them you hit me.”
“I defended myself.”
“Against what?”
“You approached me aggressively.”
“I was standing between you and my outlet.”
Marjorie returned to the call.
“Yes, she's yelling now.”
Naomi stopped speaking.
Fine.
Let her talk.
Naomi walked to the porch bench.
Sat.
Pulled out her phone.
Opened the security application.
Doorbell camera.
Recording active.
Side-yard camera.
Recording active.
Driveway camera.
Recording active.
Her shoulders lowered slightly.
Marjorie saw.
“You think recording me helps you?”
Naomi looked up.
“No.”
She held the phone.
“But recording you helped me.”
Marjorie frowned.
“What?”
Naomi said nothing.
The first police cruiser arrived six minutes later.
It felt longer.
Officer Darius Cole stepped out.
Thirty-four.
Black.
Tall.
Calm.
Body camera centered on his chest.
His right hand rested nowhere near his weapon.
Naomi noticed that.
So did Marjorie.
Marjorie moved toward him immediately.
“Officer.”
Cole lifted one hand.
“Who called?”
“I did.”
“Name?”
“Marjorie Vale. HOA president.”
Cole looked toward Naomi.
“And you?”
“Naomi Carter.”
“Homeowner?”
“Yes.”
Cole scanned.
Gate.
Porch.
Leaf blower.
No broken objects.
No visible weapons.
No active fight.
Good.
He looked at Marjorie.
“What happened?”
Marjorie began immediately.
“I came here to deliver an official association violation concerning prohibited equipment.”
Cole glanced at the leaf blower.
“She became hostile.”
“What kind of hostile?”
“She refused instructions.”
Cole waited.
Marjorie continued.
“She moved toward me aggressively and put her hands up.”