THE HOA CLAIMED IT OWNED MY CREEK — THEN THE COUNTY SURVEYOR SHOWED UP AND ENDED HER POWER
CHAPTER 1 — THE BRIDGE
The creek had been behind my house long before the HOA existed.
That was the first thing I should have told Linda.
Instead, I let her finish.
“You have until tomorrow to remove that bridge.”
Linda Prescott stepped toward me and pointed directly at my face.
She was wearing a light blue polo shirt and beige shorts, her short wavy brown hair moving slightly in the breeze.
I looked at the small wooden bridge behind her.
It crossed the creek that ran through the back of my property.
“Why?” I asked.
Linda put her hands firmly on her hips.
She rolled her eyes.
Then she pointed toward the ground as if she were giving an order to an employee.
“Because the HOA owns the creek now.”
I stared at her.
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
The creek continued flowing beneath the bridge.
Birds moved through the trees.
Everything around us was peaceful.
Linda looked extremely pleased with herself.
She had the expression of someone who believed she had just delivered an undeniable victory.
“I already approved the demolition,” she said. “The workers are on their way.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“Does it really?”
Linda's smile widened.
Then we heard the truck.
A large white flatbed truck carrying a yellow mini-excavator turned onto the street.
Linda turned toward it.
Her posture changed immediately.
She looked proud.
Satisfied.
Almost victorious.
The truck stopped outside my property.
A bearded man in a yellow hard hat and orange safety vest jumped down from the cab.
He grabbed a clipboard and started walking toward us.
Linda looked at me.
“See?”
I didn't answer.
The foreman approached.
Linda pointed toward my backyard.
“That's the bridge. Take it down.”
The foreman stopped.
He looked at Linda.
Then at me.
Then back at Linda.
“Are you the property owner?”
Linda answered before I could.
“I'm with the HOA.”
The foreman frowned.
“That's not what I asked.”
Linda's expression tightened.
The man looked at me.
“I own the property.”
He nodded.
“Okay.”
Linda stepped between us.
“I already authorized this.”
The foreman glanced at his clipboard.
“I don't have an authorization for demolition.”
Linda's smile disappeared slightly.
“What?”
“I have a work order.”
“Exactly.”
“No.”
He turned the clipboard toward her.
“The work order says survey verification.”
Linda stared at the page.
The homeowner's confidence finally returned.
“Perfect timing,” I said.
I walked toward the backyard.
“The county surveyed this creek last month.”
Linda followed.
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“Everything.”
Near the creek, several wooden survey stakes stood in the ground.
Pink ribbons fluttered from them.
A woman wearing a white hard hat and orange safety vest was standing beside the creek with a digital tablet.
She looked at the stakes.
Then at the bridge.
Then at the property boundary.
Linda approached her.
“Are you the surveyor?”
“Yes.”
“Good. I already approved the demolition.”
The surveyor looked confused.
“Demolition?”
“The bridge.”
The surveyor checked her tablet.
Then she looked at me.
Then back at Linda.
“The bridge is entirely on his property.”
Linda's face changed.
“What?”
The surveyor turned the tablet toward her.
“The county boundary is here.”
She pointed toward one of the stakes.
“And the creek is on his parcel.”
Linda shook her head.