Chapter 3: Before the Saw Could Move
Officer Daniel Brooks stepped out of the cruiser with the calm, measured manner of someone who had no interest in turning a tense neighborhood dispute into something larger.
He approached the driveway.
Margaret immediately began explaining.
“I didn’t hurt anything.”
Officer Brooks glanced toward the oak.
“I can see that.”
“I wasn’t cutting the tree.”
David pointed toward the artificial trunk.
“She came here with the saw and was preparing to start.”
Margaret turned on him.
“It is a theatrical prop.”
Officer Brooks looked at it.
Then at her.
“All right.”
The simplicity of his response irritated her.
She seemed ready for an argument and instead found a professional who was not impressed by either her anger or her certainty.
“I was checking the situation,” Margaret said.
Officer Brooks asked, “What situation?”
“The tree.”
“What were you planning to do?”
Margaret paused.
That was the question she had been avoiding since David first stepped outside.
“I was going to see what needed to be done.”
“With the saw?”
She looked at the camera.
Her eyes narrowed.
“This whole thing is because of that camera.”
Officer Brooks followed her gaze.
“The camera didn’t call me.”
Margaret said nothing.
“The homeowner did.”
David remained on his porch, keeping his distance.
Officer Brooks looked at the saw again.
“Please put it on the ground.”
Margaret held it tighter.
“It isn’t dangerous.”
“I didn’t say it was.”
“Then why do I have to put it down?”
“Because I am asking you to.”
Her jaw tightened.
She looked at David as though he had somehow arranged the entire scene against her.
Then she looked back at the officer.
Slowly, she placed the saw on the pavement.
That was the first clear surrender she had made since arriving.
Officer Brooks nodded.
“Now step away from it.”
Margaret did.
The camera continued recording.
Officer Brooks asked David what had happened.
David did not embellish the story.
He did not claim Margaret had damaged the tree.
He did not say she had attacked anyone.
He simply described what he had seen.
Margaret arriving.
The prop saw.
The artificial trunk.
Her movement toward the tree.
Then the camera activating.
Officer Brooks listened.
When he finished, he turned back to Margaret.
“No damage was done,” he said. “That’s important.”
Margaret’s expression softened slightly.
Then he continued.
“But you still came onto the area with an object and appeared prepared to interfere with something that wasn’t yours.”
Her expression hardened again.
“I told you I was checking it.”
“And now I’m telling you to leave.”
The words were calm.
They were also final.
Margaret looked toward the camera.
She had not managed to create the scene she had imagined.
But she had created something else.
A record.
