Brenda stared at him.
The conversation was not going the way she expected.
For weeks, she had treated Arthur's requests as minor inconveniences.
She had moved his decorative stones.
Ignored his sign.
Dismissed the damage.
And continued parking wherever she found it most convenient.
Now the corner had changed.
And the SUV was trapped in the middle of it.
Brenda stepped toward him.
"You can't just turn this into a construction zone!"
Arthur glanced around.
There were no machines operating.
No open trenches.
No workers blocking the street.
Only a garden bed covered with fresh mulch.
"I'm improving my landscaping," he replied.
"Without telling anyone?"
"It's my yard."
Brenda folded her arms.
"Well, the HOA has rules about landscaping."
Arthur nodded.
"I'm aware."
"Then you should have submitted a request!"
Arthur looked toward the new bed.
He had planned shrubs, flowers, and decorative stones.
The work was ordinary landscaping on private property.
Nothing about it changed the street or interfered with the neighboring homes.
He turned back toward Brenda.
"I'm happy to follow any legitimate landscaping requirements. But that doesn't give anyone permission to park on my grass."
Brenda's expression hardened.
"That's not the issue!"
Arthur looked toward the SUV.
"Then what's the issue?"
She pointed at the vehicle.
"My car!"
At that moment, a neighbor appeared on the sidewalk.
He had been walking his dog when he noticed the silver SUV sitting unusually low in the dark mulch.
He slowed.
Looked at the vehicle.
Then at Brenda.
Then at Arthur.
"Everything okay?"
Brenda turned sharply.
"No! My car is stuck!"
The neighbor examined the scene.
He looked at the mulch bed.
Then at the curb.
Then at the tires buried in the loose material.
He pressed his lips together.
Arthur could tell he was trying not to smile.
Another neighbor emerged from a nearby house.
Then another.
Within minutes, several people were standing along the sidewalk, looking toward the corner.
Nobody had planned a gathering.
There was no neighborhood event.
But the sight of Brenda Kensington's silver SUV sitting in the middle of a freshly landscaped garden bed was unusual enough to attract attention.
And Cedar Ridge was the kind of neighborhood where unusual events traveled quickly.
Someone asked what had happened.
Another neighbor explained that Brenda had driven onto Arthur's lawn.
A third pointed toward the mulch.
The story began spreading before anyone had even decided what to call it.
Brenda noticed the growing audience.
Her face reddened.
She turned back toward Arthur.
"You need to get this car out!"
Arthur looked at the SUV.
"I don't have the equipment to tow a vehicle."
"Then call somebody!"
"You can call a towing service."
Brenda stared at him.