Instead, he started keeping notes in a small spiral pad: April 11 – 7:40 PM, cement truck lights facing house, 10 min. April 12 – 3:10 PM, truck over lawn again. April 14 – mailbox on the ground The list grew quickly. Each day, something new. They parked closer. The generators ran longer. The trucks arrived earlier.
The valley’s once-quiet mornings turned into a low, constant mechanical hum. When Howard returned two weeks later, his tone had changed. The charm was still there, but thinner, stretched over something harder. He leaned against the gate like it belonged to him. “Mr. Briggs,” he said evenly, “we’re about to start groundwork. We’d really prefer to have this resolved before then.”