Old Florida

I stared in disbelief as I watched the construction crew erect the sign on the property next door. "Imperial Lakes - Luxury Homes starting from the 800's" was emblazoned across the top. I just shook my head. All this building was a far cry from what things were like when I had first bought my 25 acre property out here in the 'Ranches' over 30 years ago. Back then we were the only homes this close to the everglades.

I enjoyed the relative obscurity. The ranch became my sanctuary. Lord knows I needed it. Shortly after my wife Jean and I moved in, our family grew. First my son, Jake and then my daughter, Sophie arrived on the scene. It looked like we had a perfect family, from the outside.

Inside however was a different story. The kids were ok and were quickly growing up. Jean on the other hand could never get the upper hand battling her own demons. I did all I could, was as supportive and loving as anyone. It was never enough. Jean resorted to self medicating and no matter what I did to try to intervene I couldn't stop her downward spiral.

The drugs fried her brain. There was no other explanation. Her behavior deteriorated so badly that I finally had to push her out in order to save my kids. She took off and I rarely saw her for a whole year. When I did see her it was only for her to plead for more money for drugs. I just couldn't give in to that. Her rage whenever I'd turn her down would border on animalistic. My wife was gone, replaced by this lunatic.

It was a few months after the last confrontation that I really began to worry. She'd never gone that long without showing up on the doorstep. I searched in vain. One night my worry for her made me break down. My young kids found me crying. They hugged me until we all fell asleep in the middle of the living room.

I woke up the next morning and just stared at the two little angels sleeping next to me. I vowed 'never again'. I needed to move forward for them. From then on I knew it would just be me raising the two of them. Wishing for her to magically come back as my wife was a fool's dream.

It was just as well. One month later, the sheriff knocked at my door. Deep down I knew what he was going to say before he even said it. Somehow I had felt her ghost in my bedroom the night before. I trembled as I reached for the doorknob.

I still grimaced at the news. I had to come down and identify the body. I got a neighbor to watch my kids. Good thing it was a good hour before we reached the morgue. I needed the time to button up my resolve for the grim task.

I nearly cursed her when they pulled back the sheet. God, I could barely recognize her. She was just a shell of what she was. I closed my eyes and pulled back. Later, the sheriff told me the details. She was found lying naked on the floor of some drug den. Heroin overdose. The autopsy report included "significant sexual trauma". Fuck. It was all I could do to keep it together until I reached my car.

I drove the long way home, sobbing. I needed to get it all out before I faced my children. As it was I could never let them know what it was I saw that day. I resolved to hold that secret to my grave. No way did I want my children to remember her this way. It was to be my own special corner of hell.

As the years passed and the kids grew, it all did seem to get a little easier. Time heals all wounds I guess. It helped that the kids seemed to be doing well and were emotionally strong. It would have killed me if they somehow fell prey to the same demons Jean did. Thank God that wasn't the case. I guess it helped that I was a devoted and loving father. Thankfully the little ranch was the sanctuary we needed to keep life simple and emerge from that trauma.

By now the kids had moved out and started their own families. Things had really changed all around me. Most of my old friends had given up, sold to a developer and moved away. Can't blame them really. The amount of money that had been dangled in front of them was just too high. My neighbor John was also one of the last holdouts. He gave up because he just couldn't keep up with the maintenance anymore. That and his wife wanted to 'travel the world' with the money. I wished him well.

I have to admit that I felt pretty alone by this time. I had poured all my energy into work and raising my kids after Jean was gone. It was the right thing to do for my kids, but I never really got to move on. Sure I went on one or two dates, but nothing ever came of it. I guess the scars just ran too deep. Now here I was losing the last few friends I had. I probably needed to just sell out and make a big change in my life. Somehow I just couldn't bring myself to do it. My little rancher and I had gone through alot together. It would have been like leaving my last best friend behind.

--

Construction started quickly next door. The cacophony of construction equipment hammered in my brain for what seemed like months. Didn't help that some of the damn contractors would drive over my property to try to short cut into some of the back areas of the new development. My complaints were always met with "no habla inglés". Shit. I finally took things into my own hands and began building fences. Put a stop to that crap.

I watched the 'mini-mansions' they were building go up. My God, do building codes mean anything anymore? These expensive homes seem to be made out of nothing but sticks and paper. I had a good laugh when John called me one day.

"John, who the hell did you sell your property to? The Tinker Toy company?" I said.

"What do you mean?" asked John.

"The houses they're building are so close together," I complained. "And they seem to be held together with scotch tape and chewing gum!"

"Really?" asked John. "They told me they were experienced builders!"

"Well," I responded. "They must not have experience building in Florida. One good fart would bring the whole development down like a row of dominoes!"

"Ha!" laughed John. "Well at least my old house will still be standing!"

"Sorry to tell you John," I continued. "But they bulldozed your place down. It did take them 4 days to knock it all down though. They underestimated how well it was built. They even complained to me about all the cement and cinder-block that was used!"

"Well," said John. "I'd like to tell them I'm sorry, but I'm not. I'm too busy sitting on a pristine white beach on some island in the Caribbean right now with a tropical drink in my hand."

'Gee thanks," I muttered. "And you leave me here with all the riff-raff."

"Sorry, man. Got to go," said John. "Apparently the wife says we have a couples massage scheduled. Good Luck!"

John hung up and I just sighed. My sanctuary seemed to be closing in around me. My dog, Cain, nuzzled up next to me with all the finesse a 150 lb Great Pyrenees can muster. In other words he bowled me over. I guess I should give him a break. He did lick my face as I rolled over in pain.

--

It wasn't much longer until folks began to move into the new houses. I even tried to be neighborly and walk over and introduce myself. I always got the same reaction. Coldness. I finally got a clue when one of the neighbors who was half drunk when I approached said, "Oh, you're the one that lives in that little shithole over there!" Pompous ass.

That little shithole he was referring to was my ranch house. Yeah, it was no McMansion, but it was no shithole either. Like John's old house it was built when there were rules to follow. There was a reason it had lasted over 60 years in the same spot. Cinder block and brick construction as well as oversized roof timbers. My little place was built to withstand the weather, unlike the crap they put up now.

We even had a name for houses like mine..."Old Florida". You still see them dotted around the landscape. Reason being was because they were nearly indestructible. Ever notice that when you see devastation from a storm on the news it's always some new development? Yeah, they never show an "Old Florida" home after a storm...because it looks just like it did BEFORE the storm.

After a few of the same interactions with my 'new' neighbors, I resolved to keep to myself. No matter. I had done just fine by myself up to this point. I didn't need a bunch of snotty self-important people to help fill my time.

--

Things seemed to be settling down with the development next door as they finally ran out of places to build. I figured I'd finally start getting some peace around here. I just went about my business like I had before. I figured as long as I kept to myself and the "Lakers" as they called themselves kept to themselves, then I'd be fine. But...I was wrong.

I was mowing the front field and decided to take a quick break and headed to the mailbox. Don't ask me why, there's never anything good that shows up in there. I paged through the stupid flyers and a few bills. At the bottom of the pile was some sort of notice from the "Imperial Lakes HomeOwners Association". I smirked. I figured it was just misdirected mail or something. I threw it in my basket on the mower and finished the job at hand.

When I was through I grabbed the mail and threw it up on the counter, made myself a little lunch and popped open a beer. I paged through the mail, discarding the flyers and tossing the bills on the stack to be paid later. I glanced at the letter from the HOA. I figured I'd just confirm it was for someone else, mark it up for the postman and let him deal with finding the right mailbox for a change.

I had to do a double take when I looked at the address. It was labeled for me alright. Weird. So I turned it over and ripped open the flap. I pulled out a three page letter. I turned it over to start reading. I got about two sentences in before I mouthed the words "what the fuck?"

To: Mr. Bryan Williams

It has come to our attention that your property does not meet the standards as defined in our HOA bylaws. A recent inspection of your property shows a significant number of violations as listed in the attached. We hope that you will address these discrepancies before we, the HOA, need to take punitive action. Since the number of issues is so lengthy, we have decided to give you at least one month from the date of this letter to either resolve these issues or at least submit a plan for resolution at our next board meeting.

Signed

Ms. Olivia Fenwick, President, Imperial Lakes HomeOwners Association

"Seriously? Fuck!" I yelled out as I accidentally spilled my beer all over my supposed list of discrepancies. "This can't be real," I muttered. "Someone's pulling my leg." I tried to decipher some of the things on the beer stained list. I couldn't believe it. Things like paint colors, that my boat shouldn't be parked in my yard, the fact that my dog is unleashed and menacing (He's fenced in), complaints about not raking the grass after mowing (I have 25 acres for God sakes, not the postage stamps they have). On and on. Even my mailbox wasn't the right type and that I should apply to have a box in one of their kiosks. I sat back in my chair in disbelief. It took all my willpower not to march right over there, find this HOA President, and shove the letter as far up her ass as physics would allow.

I shook my head in disgust as I tried to calm down. After I got over my immediate need to inflict some bodily harm, I decided to call my good friend down at the Sheriff's office to make sure I wasn't really responsible for all this shit. I had known Sheriff Roy all the way back when he was on patrol as a deputy. He was even there helping to console me after Jean's death. We went way back. I told him about my plight and he said he'd get back to me.

Later that evening, Roy rolled up in his patrol car. "Evening Bryan, how are you doing? Been a while!"

"Sure has Roy," I said as I shook his hand. "Sorry, just haven't been doing much lately. I've been trying to get over all the commotion from the development next door."

"So you said something about a problem with the new neighbors?" he asked.

"Yeah, I guess you could say that," I replied. "Or maybe they just have a problem with me. Seems as if I don't meet their standards." I handed him the letter.

Even Roy did a double take as he read the letter. As he looked at the now dry but definitely beer colored list, I could see the grin on his face. "Holy shit!" he exclaimed. "Who the fuck did you piss off?"

"That's just it," I replied. "I've just been keeping to myself over here. My first few interactions with folks over there were cold, so I quit trying. I have no idea why they have this bug up their ass."

"Well," continued Roy. "Looks like they've launched one hell of a shot across your bow. What do you plan on doing?"

"Nothing," I said. "I just need to make sure I'm not really under any obligation to these people, which is why I called you. Otherwise, they can stuff this letter where the sun don't shine!"

"OK," answered Roy. "I'll make a couple of calls to make sure, but I don't see how you could possibly be included in their HOA."

"Thanks Roy," I responded. "I appreciate it." Roy tipped his hat and sank back down into his cruiser. As I watched him pull away I noticed some movement over at one of the adjacent houses to my fence line. It looked like a woman who was watching us going back into her house. I made a mental note of her location.

--

A couple of days later, Roy got back to me. Bottom line was that I had no obligation to these people. He asked if I wanted him to go and talk to the HOA President, but I waved him off. They had to know the same thing I did, that I was not responsible. I figured that whoever thought they could strong arm me would get the hint and leave it alone. Again...I was wrong.

We had a little storm move through and I had lost some branches from a few pine trees. No big deal. I dragged them over to my fire ring. It was a nice calm day so I figured I'd go ahead and burn the branches while I made up some chili in my dutch oven. Cooking out in the open air was something I always enjoyed. I stoked up the charcoal in my outdoor pit and set the chili to cooking. I then set the fallen branches on fire in my fire ring, grabbed a lawn chair and set back with an adult beverage to enjoy the rest of my day.

I checked the chili and it was nearly finished cooking. As I gave it a final stir I heard the sirens getting louder and louder. I thought that whatever was going on must be close. Imagine my surprise when the fire engine pulled up in my driveway. Shit. Here we go again.

Funny thing was it was my brother, Dan, who popped out of the driver's side of the fire truck. He was a longtime volunteer fireman for the county. I walked up to him.

"Hey Bryan," he said. "We got a call about an uncontrolled brush fire on your property. What's up?"

I grimaced. "Shit. All I'm doing is burning a few branches in my fire ring and cooking some chili. You can come look if you want, but everything is under control."

Dan nodded his head and spoke into his radio. He called in to cancel the emergency, turning around any other trucks that were responding. He and the other two guys in the truck followed me into the backyard toward the fire ring. Before we were halfway there Roy pulled up in his patrol car as well. We waved him back to catch up with us.

"As you can see," I explained. "I'm not breaking any laws. You know I always check the weather and I never burn on dry or windy days. There is a hose right here to extinguish any wayward flames."

Dan smirked. "I see that your fire ring is operating within the law, but we might need to confiscate your dutch oven! That chili smells delicious!"

"OK. Guess I'll have to pay my fire tax today," I laughed. I grabbed some extra bowls and a six pack of soda for the guys. Even Roy took a bowl of chili. We all sat back around the fire ring and told some old stories. Ended up having a good time. I had almost forgotten that someone had called them out to get me in trouble. "Hey Roy," I said. "Any idea who made the call to sic the fire department on me?"

Roy went back to his squad car and made a call on his radio. He was shaking his head when he returned. "Looks like you owe this friendly visit to the Imperial Lakes HomeOwners Association."

"Crap," I responded. "I'd complain, but this ended up being kind of fun."

"Do you want me to go over there and give them a 'cease and desist' lecture?" asked Roy.

"Nah," I said. "They have to be getting tired of this by now." Just then I heard a door slam. It came from the same house I had noticed the woman standing in front of before. I figured she must be the culprit.

--

A week went by without any more uncalled for interruptions. I figured that the HOA president had finally reached the end of her rope and given up. I hopped on my riding mower to give the field nearest to the fence line between me and Imperial Lakes a trim. It was summer and it was all I could do to keep up with the grass. I noticed my dog, Cain, was running around on that side of the house near the fence line, but I didn't give him much notice.

I made a couple of passes near the fence, making sure I angled the grass discharge away from the fence and my neighbors. Heaven forbid a wayward blade of grass find its way onto one of their pristine lawns. I could only imagine the alarms that would go off.

As I got to the end of the field, I turned around and headed back in the opposite direction. I figured I was far enough away from the fence for the grass discharge not to matter anymore. As I turned around I saw Cain sniffing at the fence line. He let out a loud bark. As I moved closer with the mower he ran off, he never really liked being close to the tractor.

I got a little closer and I noticed a small powder puff of a dog on the other side of the wire fence. It was yapping up a storm. 'Oy,' I thought to myself. 'Those little dogs were barely more than a rat on a leash.' As I got a little closer, I noticed the woman had exited her house and was making her way toward the dog. She didn't look too happy.

As I pulled up nearly across from her and her dog, she started to try to wave me down, no doubt to complain about my inability to make perfectly straight manicured lines in my grass. Like I could give a fuck. I shook my head and reached down for the key to turn off the tractor and find out what she was going to rant at me about.

Just as I reached for the key, I hit it. We all know the sound of running over something big with the lawnmower. "KER-THUNK!" My eyes opened wide as I saw something shoot out the grass discharge at high speed.

My nose cued me into what I had just hit. Cain must have left me a big old steaming pile to find the hard way. God! What the hell did my dog eat!? The stench of his now airborne plopper sucked all the oxygen out of the air.

I watched in horror as the "Cain-grenade" hurtled toward my neighbor and her dog. The flying turd hit the wire fence and shattered into what could only be termed as a ball of shit shrapnel. Her dog recoiled as it was covered in the brown and greenish goo. It yelped and went running back toward the house.

The look on my neighbors face was priceless. I looked down and her shoes hadn't escaped the crap barrage either. I looked back up at her. It was all I could do to hold myself from falling off the tractor from laughing. I managed to smirk and say "Shit Happens."

I've never seen anyone turn that many shades of red and purple before. "Well, I never!" she screamed before turning toward her house, she coughed and gagged due to the aroma of her shoes and dog.

I fired up the tractor and headed for the house. I couldn't tell if the tears in my eyes were from laughter or from the stink bomb I'd just launched at my neighbor. Either way, I needed to hose down the tractor so that I could breathe again. I vowed to seriously reconsider my dog's feeding regimen.