The Board Turned My Three Minutes Into a Second Fine

Tomas stood beside the fence with a tripod and a bright orange vest. His truck door was open, and the old field book lay on the seat under a clear cover.

"Don't step on that nail," he said.

I stopped.

"It's my reference point. The rusty ones are free."

He spoke lightly, but he checked each number twice. He showed me a brass marker set in concrete near the bollard. On my old map, it looked like a small circle beside a note.

"The application shows the fence outside the access strip," he said. "The posts tell a different story."

"How different?"

"Let me finish before I give you a number. I don't sell guesses with a stamp on them."

I held the map flat while he worked. Across the inlet, the last light caught the ferry windows. My shed rose another inch on its guide hoops.

On Thursday, I took a copy of the agreement to the association meeting. Nina came with me. Her letter had not received an answer.

Mara sat beside four neighbors from the other old lots. I knew their boats better than their last names. That embarrassed me a little.

All five had brought access bills.

Felicia sat at the center of a folding table. A little brass bell stood by her right hand.

"This is a courtesy appearance," she told me. "You aren't a member."

"Then please explain how your board can fine me."

She rang the bell once.

"We won't start with accusations."

I set a folded paper boat on the table by my chair. I had made it while waiting for the room to open. Its two pointed ends were even.

"My name is Daeho Park. I own Lot Six. The recorded agreement gives that lot access across the waterfront parcel and use of the ramp. Your deed lists the same agreement."

I handed copies to Owen, who passed them down the table.

Felicia kept her hands folded.

"The ramp requires upkeep," she said.

"Then show us the upkeep bills. The agreement allows a fair share of actual costs."

"Seven hundred twenty dollars is fair."

"For what work?"

She looked toward the residents behind us.

"Some people think their age earns them special treatment."

Nina spoke without raising her voice.

"My client's age isn't the basis of his claim. Page two is."

Owen was already there. He turned the copy so the woman beside him could see it.

Mara stood.

"I've paid twenty-eight hundred eighty dollars. What did I buy?"

Felicia's face grew red above her coat collar.

"A cooperative relationship with this community."

"The invoices say access," Mara said.

The room became quiet enough for me to hear the heater fan stop.

Felicia picked up another sheet.

"Mr. Park was observed crossing the restricted area Tuesday with a contractor. Under our schedule, a repeat violation is four hundred eighty dollars."

She pushed the sheet toward me.

"That was my surveyor," I said.

"You were told to stay off."

"Did the board vote on either fine?" Owen asked.

Felicia turned toward him as if his chair had moved by itself.

"Enforcement is the president's responsibility."

"That wasn't my question."

She rang the bell again.

Nina took the second fine and wrote the date on her copy. She asked that both notices and our objection be attached to the minutes.

"We also request that all billing records and messages about these charges be kept," she said. "Please don't discard anything."

Nobody threatened Felicia. Nobody called her a name. Still, she said we had made the meeting hostile and ended it eleven minutes early.

In the parking lot, the five neighbors gathered around Mara's open hatchback. We laid their invoices on a clean towel.

Each had paid seven hundred twenty dollars a year for four years. Some had also paid late fees on those bills or fines for crossing without displaying a tag.

"I thought I was the only one asking," a man named Len said.

"So did I," Mara told him.

Nina asked permission to review their deeds. All five said yes. She explained that joining a case would mean sharing records and signing statements. They stayed to hear the rest.

Len took an old plastic tag from his key ring. Its edges had rubbed smooth against his truck key.

"My wife told me to ask questions before we paid," he said.

"Mine would have too," I told him.

He held the tag a moment longer, then put it on top of his invoices. Nobody laughed at him for having bought it.

Owen came out after the other board members left. He carried a folder against his chest.

"I requested the fence file as secretary," he said. "This was attached to the application."

He gave Nina a page bearing Felicia's signature.

Beside a checked box were the words: All Affected Access Holders Have Approved the Proposed Placement.

Below it was a list of our six lot numbers. The last entry was Lot Six.