I waited.
“Margaret’s telling everyone you’re planning to close the road.”
“That’s news to me.”
“She says you’re going to install a toll gate.”
I looked toward the woods.
“A toll gate?”
“Yes. Apparently you’ll charge residents to get to the highway.”
“I haven’t even installed a farm gate near that road.”
“I know.”
“How?”
“Because I drive across it every morning, and I pay attention.”
He sounded older, steady, and careful with his words.
“I’ve been a resident here for 19 years,” he continued. “I’m a retired civil engineer. I’ve seen a lot of HOA business, and something about this whole situation isn’t adding up.”
“What isn’t?”
“Margaret says you threatened the board before she filed the lawsuit.”
“I had never spoken to her before she served me.”
A long pause followed.
“That’s what I thought.”
“Why?”
“Because when I asked at the meeting what you had actually done, she couldn’t give me an answer.”
“What did she say?”
“She told me I was undermining community security.”
I nearly laughed.
“Sounds familiar.”
“Then she reminded everyone that the board had authority over the access road.”
“She can claim authority all she wants. It doesn’t change the plat.”
Carl was silent.
“What plat?” he asked.
“The county plat.”
Another pause.
“Would you be willing to meet?”
I thought about it.
“Why?”
“Because I have some old records. And because I’m tired of watching this woman frighten people every time someone asks a reasonable question.”
We arranged to meet at a diner three miles outside Cedarwood Ridge.
When I arrived, Carl was already sitting in a booth with a coffee and a thick manila folder.
He stood when he saw me.
“Thanks for coming.”
“Thanks for calling.”
We sat.
He studied me for a moment.
“You don’t look like someone planning to charge 96 families to leave their neighborhood.”
“What does that person look like?”
“According to Margaret, probably like you, but with a black cape.”
I laughed for the first time that week.
Carl didn’t.
“She’s serious about destroying your reputation,” he said.
“I’ve noticed.”
“People are scared.”
“Of me?”
“Of losing their road.”
