The top page contained parking diagrams.
Not rules.
Diagrams.
Brenda had apparently illustrated correct tire placement.
That should have warned me.
For the first month, I barely noticed the HOA.
I went to work.
Came home.
Worked on small projects.
Talked occasionally with my neighbors.
The couple to my left, Mark and Elise Hammond, had lived there nine years.
Mark was an electrician.
Elise taught middle school history.
Across the street lived Mrs. Bell, a widow in her seventies who knew absolutely everything that happened within a quarter mile.
Not because she was nosy, according to her.
Because she was observant.
“You met Brenda yet?” she asked one morning.
“Yes.”
Mrs. Bell made a face.
“What?”
“You’ll see.”
That was all she said.
I saw quickly.
A notice appeared on Mark’s door because one wheel of his work van touched the edge of the driveway overnight.
