The Brick
The brick left the HOA president’s hand before anybody believed she would actually throw it.
For one fraction of a second, it seemed to hang against the bright afternoon sky.
Then it struck the center of the gas station’s front window.
The glass exploded inward.
The sound was violent enough to make two customers at the pumps duck beside their vehicles.
A rack of bottled drinks toppled inside the store. Cans rolled across the tile. Fragments of safety glass glittered beneath the fluorescent lights.
Then the security alarm began screaming.
The Black homeowner standing outside did not move.
He had been carrying a slim leather portfolio beneath one arm.
Now he slowly lowered it.
His charcoal business suit remained perfectly neat.
Crisp white shirt.
Dark tie.
Polished shoes.
Silver watch.
Everything about him looked completely wrong for the accusation the woman was already shouting.
“He broke in!”
The HOA president pointed directly at him.
“He has no right to be here!”
She was in her late fifties, polished enough to look as though she had dressed for a board luncheon rather than property destruction.
Platinum-blonde bob.
Pearl earrings.
Oversized black sunglasses.
Salmon-pink tailored pantsuit.
Her phone was already in her hand.
The homeowner looked at the broken window.
Then at the brick lying among the shattered glass.
Then back at her.
“You just threw that.”
The HOA president lifted her chin.
“I did what was necessary.”
“No.”
His voice remained calm.
“You threw a brick through my window.”
“Your window?”
She laughed.
“This station has been vacant for eleven months.”
The homeowner’s expression did not change.
“And?”
“And this parcel falls under the neighborhood commercial covenant.”
“No.”
“It does.”
“No.”
Her smile sharpened.
“You clearly have no idea who I am.”
The homeowner glanced at the security camera above the convenience-store entrance.
Its small indicator remained illuminated.
“I know exactly who you are.”
That answer irritated her more than fear would have.
She stepped closer.
“I’m the HOA President.”
“I heard you the first six times.”
A customer near pump two quietly raised his phone to record.
The HOA president noticed.
She immediately changed her posture.
Shoulders back.
Voice louder.
Performance beginning.
“This man has taken possession of an abandoned commercial property without authorization.”
The homeowner looked toward the customer’s phone.
Then back to her.
“You might want to stop.”
She smiled.
“That sounds like a threat.”
“It’s advice.”
“Good.”
She tapped her screen.
“Then you can explain your threats to the police.”
The homeowner adjusted one cuff.
“Before you do that, I strongly recommend you tell dispatch exactly what happened.”
“I intend to.”
“Including the brick.”
Her jaw tightened.
“You were refusing to leave.”