• removal or relocation of the fence,

• withdrawal of retaliatory violations,

• reimbursement of my costs,

• and preservation of all records concerning the fence.

Then he scheduled a licensed survey.

The earliest appointment was three weeks away.

Those three weeks were brutal.

Denise became even more confident.

She hosted a garden party behind the fence.

She posted photographs of her roses.

She told neighbors I was wasting money on a “redundant survey.”

One afternoon, she came to the edge of my driveway while I was working on my motorcycle.

“You know,” she said, “all of this could end if you admitted you misread your documents.”

I kept tightening a bolt.

“The survey crew comes next Tuesday.”

She laughed.

“You keep saying that like orange flags are going to save you.”

I looked up.

“No.”

She smiled.

“What, then?”

“They're going to expose you.”

Her smile vanished for half a second.

Then she walked away.

The Survey Crew

The surveyors arrived at 7:10 the following Tuesday morning.

I had been awake since four.

A white truck marked Patterson & Lowe Land Surveying pulled into the street.

Two surveyors stepped out.

The lead surveyor introduced herself as Carla Patterson.

She was compact, serious, and completely uninterested in HOA politics.

She reviewed the documents Marcus had provided.

Then she began setting up her equipment.

Denise appeared eight minutes later.

She wore sunglasses despite the early hour.

She carried coffee.

And she was smiling.

“Good morning,” she called.

Carla nodded.

“Morning.”

Denise looked at me.

“I hope this was worth it.”

I didn't answer.

That seemed to bother her.

Neighbors began appearing.

Mrs. Alvarez came outside.

Paul walked his dog in a strange loop that brought him directly past my house.

Grace arrived with a notebook.

Two cars slowed down.

Everyone suddenly had somewhere to be near my property.

Carla set up the tripod.

The survey began.

Surveying isn't dramatic if you don't understand it.

There is no shouting.