Cami and Mia looked at each other.
“It’s true—I saw several men in a beat-up car driving through the neighborhood yesterday…” someone announced.
“They broke into the Silverwood’s house…over on Archer. I saw them attack two kids today!”
Cami frowned. A few people turned and looked at her. Word was already out about the identity of the mugging victims. More than one person nodded at her or offered a grim smile.
“Something needs to be done!” Marty bellowed.
“Yeah,” someone else agreed up front.
Harriet smoothed her dress and tried to maintain control of the crowd. “Now see here, this is a meeting, not a mob. We will follow parliamentary procedure and recognize the floor for each speaker. This is no different than the quarterly HOA meetings we conduct—“
“Get on with it, already! This isn’t Congress for crying out loud…”
Harriet frowned, her face lit by the flickering tiki torches. The reflected light did not do her expression any favors. She looked like a mildly irritated demon.
“The Board met earlier today, and we decided there are a few new measures we can implement to help keep Bee’s Landing safe in these trying times, at least until the authorities regain control of the situation.” That statement elicited a few laughs and some side conversations in the audience about the fate of Washington.
“Dollars to donuts she won’t want to do anything that actually works,” Marty said.
“First, we will take a head count and see exactly who is still in the neighborhood—“
“What for?” someone called out.
“Why,” Harriet said, blinking, “so we know what homes still have people living in them.”
“But why do y’all need to know that?” demanded Marty.
Harriet recognized his voice and compressed her lips into a thin line. “Because we need to know how many people need assistance with food and water—“
“So you can break into the other homes and take stuff, right?” pestered Marty. “So y’all think you’re a bunch of Robin Hoods, that it?”
“No one’s breaking into anyone’s homes,” Harriet said quickly as she motioned for the crowd to let her explain. “When you bought into the HOA, you were all required to provide a copy of the key to your house. We never expected to need the keys for a situation like this, but let’s be honest people,” she said, and put her hands on her hips, “it’s been almost a week since the tidal wave—“
“Tsunami!” Cami called out.
Harriet frowned. “Since the tidal wave hit Charleston and things have not started to get better at all. Quite the opposite, in fact. With hoodlums having gun battles on main street and armed thugs robbing people in our neighborhood…it’s getting—“
“Apocalyptic!” Marty shouted.
“Yes, Marty, apocalyptic is a good word for it,” Harriet said through clenched teeth. She cleared her throat. “The board is open to suggestions from members as to the next steps we should take as a community. Are there any suggestions?”
A hand went up toward the front. “We should set up roadblocks at the entrances.”
A general murmur of approval followed, along with a handful of dissenting opinions. Harriet frowned. “I don’t think that’s very neighborly of us…”
The man who’d suggested the roadblocks scoffed. “I’m not worried about being neighborly, I’m worried about someone breaking into my house!”
“We could set up a neighborhood watch—patrol the streets at night,” someone else offered.
Harriet turned from one suggestion to the next and tried to shoot them both down. “That’s not exactly what the board had in mind, in fact, I think that’s rather drastic, don’t you?”
“Not at all—seems to me that’s exactly what we should be discussing—“ another voice called out.
“Well, what exactly does the board want to do?” asked Cami in a tone she hoped was more reasonable than it sounded in her head. She was worried the crowd was going to get ugly if Harriet continued to poo-poo all the reasonable solutions put forward by worried homeowners.
“I’m glad you asked,” Harriet replied as she squinted in Cami’s direction. “The board,” she said, as an oil-slick smile spread across her face, “is recommending we coordinate a collection of extra food and supplies to be redistributed to those in need—“
“You want to force us to hand over food to people who don’t have any?” someone shouted.
“We want to collect unused supplies, yes—but not from you, from the vacant houses,” Harriet added quickly, before the crowd erupted. “It’s not for some great stockpile, it’s not for the use of the board—it’s for people who don’t have anything,” Harriet said, her eyes wide as she searched the crowd. She found Cami’s face and smiled, “For people like Mia Stevens—she has two children and her husband never came home from work after the tidal wave…”
People looked where Harriet pointed, and Cami felt Mia’s embarrassment in a wave of heat that radiated off the younger woman. Most people near them offered sad smiles and a few ‘it’ll be okay’ looks, but the pity on some faces didn’t show at all on others. Cami shifted her weight on her feet, embarrassed for Mia, but she refused to step away from her friend.
“Mia’s not the only one, folks,” Cami said, in an attempt to take the attention off Mia. “There’s plenty of you who haven’t heard from husbands and wives since the tsunami hit,” she said. “We shouldn’t single people out—“
“Yes, yes, I wasn’t trying to make dear Mia feel bad,” Harriet said with a dismissive wave of one pearl bracelet-adorned hand. “I’m merely using her as an example. There are many more people here who are running low on food—I know because
