Chapter 3
"Noah, someone cracked the tiles outside my garage. The footage is crystal clear," I said.
"Ms. Sanders, you know how Mrs. Wilkins is. She's got a short fuse. It's not a good idea to get on her bad side," Noah replied.
"Look, my tiles are busted," I insisted.
"I'll talk to her and ask her to be more careful," Noah said.
"How many times have you talked to her? Uh... probably three or four times,"
"Did it work?" I shot back.
Noah fell silent, rubbing his hands together with an awkward smile.
I went back and put up a sign herself, writing in big red letters: "PRIVATE PROPERTY. DO NOT USE."
The white paper with big red letters was slapped right in the middle of the car wash machine, anyone could spot it, even if they were blind.
On the morning of the fourth day, the sign was gone.
The security footage made it crystal clear, Mrs. Wilkins was the one who tore it down.
She glanced at the sign, scoffed, yanked it off, ripped it into four pieces, and tossed it in the trash.
After that, she spat right at the camera.
"Tch, acting all high and mighty," she muttered.
Mia's hands shook with anger as she dialed 911.
Two young cops showed up, and they were actually pretty nice.
Mrs. Wilkins really put on a show in front of the cops.
"Officer, I swear I know I messed up. I won't touch it again. I just grabbed some water to rinse off my mats, didn't even use much. She keeps accusing me of stealing, but come on, I would never do that. I'm always fair, you know..." she said, acting all innocent.
The cops checked the footage, glanced at Mia, and then offered a bit of mediation.
"Ma'am, that's her private property. Please don't use it anymore. Ms. Sanders, neighbors should try to understand each other. It's best if you can work things out," one of the officers said.
Mrs. Wilkins nodded like crazy. "I'll change, I promise. I really will."
As soon as the cops left, she stood in the hallway, her voice echoing through the whole building.
"Some people really think they're all that. Just because she installed some crappy car wash machine, she thinks she's hot stuff? It's not like we can't afford one ourselves. I just can't stand the way she acts! She called the cops? Go ahead, see if the police can do anything for her!"
The chubby woman appeared and chimed in, "Seriously, it's not even a big deal. Did she really have to call the cops? What a waste of the cops' time."
The skinny woman piped up, "She's always causing drama. She won't last here for long."
I stood at her door, listening to their chorus of insults, my fingers clenched so tight they turned white.
That night, David tried to calm me down. "Let it go, Mia. No need to stir up trouble over something so small, the water bill's barely anything. Plus, we just moved in. It's not worth falling out with the neighbors."
I stared at him, feeling a wave of frustration and hurt wash over me.
"David, let me ask you something."
"Yeah?" he replied.
"I paid for the car wash machine, right?"
"Yeah," David replied.
"I'm paying for the water, aren't I?" I pressed.
"Yeah," David replied.
"So why should anyone else get to use it? Why should she use my stuff, wreck my tiles, rip up my sign, and then have the nerve to insult me?" I demanded.
David opened his mouth, but couldn't find the words.
"Why should I have to put up with being bullied?" I asked.
He sighed. "That's not what I meant... I'm just saying, arguing with her won't get you anywhere. She's just... like that."
"So what? Are good people just supposed to let themselves get walked all over?" I shot back.
He fell silent.
I went back to her room, closed the door, and just sat on her bed thinking for ages.
I couldn't stop replaying everything in my head, over and over.
The water meter numbers creeping up. The busted tiles. The sign shredded and tossed. Mrs. Wilkins spitting right at the camera.
Those three plastic buckets were still hogging space next to my car wash machine, like they owned the place.
I had nothing to say.
Two more days went by.
"Mia, your car wash machine works great! A few of my girlfriends want to try it out too." Early Tuesday morning, Mrs. Wilkins was outside my window, her voice booming like a loudspeaker.
I opened the window and leaned out. "Mrs. Wilkins, I've told you already, it's for my own use."
"Oh, I know, I know. I just thought I'd let them try it out. It won't bother you," Mrs. Wilkins replied.
"No way," I shot back and closed the window.
When I came home for lunch and walked past the garage, I spotted a gray Honda parked right outside my door.
The heavyset woman was using my car wash machine, blasting her car with the high-pressure hose, foam was everywhere.
"Mrs. Wilkins said I could use it," she said.
She didn't even stop when she saw me.
"This isn't up to Mrs. Wilkins, it's up to me. This is my property," I said.
"Why are you so petty? I'm just washing my car, it's not like I'm stealing anything," the heavyset woman snapped.
She threw the hose down, splashing water all over my foot.
"All done. Thanks, I guess," she said with a smirk.
She drove off, leaving a puddle of suds behind.
Mia glanced at the water meter, 1.5 tons of water had already disappeared, just like that.
Thursday was even more over the top.
That afternoon, I was just coming back from the flower shop, she hadn't even stepped into the neighborhood yet when she spotted the skinny woman with her two kids, spreading out a bunch of stuff right in front of her garage.
There were scooters, bikes, a kids' car, and even an inflatable pool.
She was using Mia's high-pressure hose, spraying them down one by one.
"Lady, what are you doing?" I called out.
"Just washing some stuff. Mrs. Wilkins said it was fine," the skinny woman replied.
"Mrs. Wilkins doesn't get to decide," I shot back.
"Then go talk to Mrs. Wilkins, not me. I came all this way, I'm not leaving without getting something done," the skinny woman said, still not looking up.
She kept spraying, not even bothering to look up.
The two kids were splashing around in the water, their clothes drenched, giggling away without a care in the world.