“Comparative testing” was among the most absurd phrases anyone had ever offered him.
He looked toward the gate.
Closed.
The new brass lock hung from the latch.
Marcus had installed it eight days earlier.
After the second unauthorized entry.
His eyes narrowed.
“How did you get through my gate?”
Brenda's mouth tightened.
“I have association access.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
Marcus took another step.
“You absolutely do not.”
Brenda raised one hand.
“Do not approach me aggressively.”
Marcus stopped immediately.
Not because she frightened him.
Because the sentence told him where she intended the encounter to go.
Aggressive.
Good word.
Useful word.
A Black homeowner standing on his own patio demanding an explanation from a white HOA president who had entered without permission.
Brenda had selected her narrative quickly.
Marcus lowered his hands deliberately.
“Fine.”
He spoke more quietly.
“Turn off the hose.”
“I am not finished.”
“Turn it off.”
“Do not order me around.”
Marcus looked toward the pool again.
The clear blue water was turning cloudy.
Yellow spreading toward the steps.
He could smell it now.
His expression changed.
“That is urine.”
Brenda's lips pressed together.
“No.”
Marcus stepped nearer the edge.
The smell intensified.
He turned back.
“You brought urine into my backyard.”
“It is wastewater.”
“Urine.”
“Wastewater can contain multiple biological compounds.”
Marcus actually laughed.
One short sound.
Brenda's cheeks flushed.
“You think this is funny?”
“I think you just called a bucket of piss a biological compound because you got caught pouring it into my pool.”
“Watch your language.”
That made Marcus laugh again.
Stronger this time.
Brenda looked offended.
The absurdity of it almost overwhelmed his anger.
She had broken into his yard, polluted his pool, then corrected his vocabulary.
Marcus shook his head.
“Turn it off.”
“No.”
“Brenda.”
“You have ignored three sanitation notices.”
“I defeated three sanitation notices because your own testing company found nothing wrong.”
“You intimidate vendors.”
“I emailed their results.”
“You challenge every association action.”
“When it's unsupported.”
“You create hostility.”
Marcus pointed toward the hose.
“This is hostility.”
Brenda looked toward the neighboring fence.
Marcus noticed.
Checking for witnesses.
Interesting.
He followed her gaze.
No one visible.
The houses on either side sat far enough away that most backyard activity remained private.
Privacy had been one of the reasons Marcus bought the property.
Brenda relaxed slightly.
She looked back at him.
“You've embarrassed this board for months.”
There.
Different topic.
Marcus became very still.
“What does that have to do with pool sanitation?”
Brenda realized the mistake.
She recovered.
“Nothing.”
“Sounded like something.”
“You know exactly what I mean.”
“No.”
Marcus folded his arms.
“Explain it.”
Brenda turned off the hose completely.
The sudden silence made the backyard feel larger.
Water continued rippling from the contamination.
She dropped the hose onto the deck.
“You treat every HOA request like a courtroom trial.”
“You send fines.”
“Because you violate standards.”
“Then I show you the rules.”
“You humiliate volunteers.”