Before I could say three, the distinct, rising wail of a police siren echoed from the entrance of Mayberry Heights. Carol’s expression instantly reformed into one of triumphant glee. She lowered her phone and pointed a manicured finger at me.
“Oh, you’ve done it now!” she crowed, stepping closer to the machine again, confident that her rescue had arrived. “I called the sheriff’s department the moment you unloaded this monstrosity. You’re going to jail for menacing, and then I personally will oversee the foreclosure on this property!”
A white-and-blue cruiser rolled slowly down the street, its lights splashing red and blue against the vinyl siding of the surrounding homes. It pulled up onto the curb right behind my driveway. Deputy Miller, a stout man with a mustache that looked like it had been carved out of granite, stepped out of the vehicle. He adjusted his duty belt, took a long look at the yellow bulldozer parked in my backyard, and then walked toward us with a slow, unhurried gait.
“What seems to be the problem here, folks?” Deputy Miller asked, his voice calm and level.
Carol practically leaped at him, her clipboard shaking in her hand. “Officer! Thank goodness! This man is operating heavy machinery without a permit, threatening my life, destroying community property, and refusing to comply with legally binding neighborhood covenants! I want him arrested immediately!”
Deputy Miller listened patiently, nodding once or twice. Then he turned his gaze to me. “Sir, you want to turn that engine off for a second so we can talk like civilized neighbors?”
I reached over and turned the key. The bulldozer’s roar died down to a metallic click, leaving a sudden, heavy silence in the afternoon air. I climbed down from the cab, wiped my hands on my jeans, and stepped toward the officer……
