The Bolt Cutters
The first thing Jamal Reed noticed was the color.
Bright red.
Not the red of a stop sign or a warning light, but the glossy red of Linda Mercer’s blazer as she stood in the middle of his front lawn beneath the afternoon sun.
The second thing he noticed was what she was holding.
Bolt cutters.
Jamal stopped halfway down the walkway.
For several seconds, neither of them spoke.
The open utility box beside his driveway sat at Linda’s feet. A thin black fiber-optic cable emerged from the ground and disappeared beneath the shrubs beside his house.
Linda rested the heavy cutters against the box as though she were holding a clipboard.
“Your cable is against HOA landscaping rules,” she said.
Jamal stared at her.
Then at the cutters.
Then at the open utility box.
“Put those down.”
Linda lifted her chin.
“That cable has been cited twice.”
“That doesn't give you permission to cut it.”
“I am enforcing association standards.”
“You're standing on my property with bolt cutters.”
Linda smiled coldly.
“I suggest you be careful about your tone.”
Jamal pulled out his phone.
The camera turned toward her.
Linda's smile disappeared.
“Are you recording me?”
“Yes.”
“Put that phone away.”
“No.”
She stepped closer.
“Touch me and I'll have you fined, trespassed, and removed from this neighborhood.”
Jamal almost laughed.
“Removed?”
“Don't test me.”
He held the phone higher.
“Go ahead. When the police arrive, they can read the messages you sent before you came over here.”
Linda froze.
It lasted less than a second.
But Jamal saw it.
The tiny flicker in her eyes.
Then the expression returned.
Contempt.
Behind Linda, a porch door opened.
Martha Ellis stepped outside.
Across the street, another neighbor stopped beside his mailbox.
People were beginning to watch.
Jamal kept recording.
“Put the cutters down, Linda.”
“You were given forty-eight hours.”
“You were given the installation approval.”
“I don't recognize that approval.”
“You don't have to.”
Linda opened the cutters.
The metal jaws separated with a sharp click.
Jamal's voice became quieter.
“Show me the board vote authorizing you to cut private telecommunications equipment.”
Linda stopped.
“You don't get to interrogate me.”
“I get to ask why you're destroying something you don't own.”
“This resident has repeatedly violated association standards.”
“Resident?”