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Chapter 92 - The Treaty of Oak Street

The morning frost was still clinging to the shaded blades of grass as my father and I crossed the quiet asphalt of Oak Street, heading straight into Arthur Henderson's front yard. Henderson was already out there, wearing a fluorescent yellow safety vest over his sweater, pacing back and forth with a clipboard in one hand and a wooden stake in the other.

When he saw us approaching, he jammed his hands onto his hips, adopting the stern posture of a seasoned general preparing to defend his sovereign territory.

"Took you long enough, Tom," Henderson barked across the lawn, eyeing me suspiciously. "And you brought reinforcements. What is this, a military tribunal?"

"Consider it diplomatic mediation, Arthur," I said, stepping onto his lawn with my hands tucked loosely into my pockets. "My father and I are here to ensure peace and prosperity for both sides of the property line."

Henderson grunted, walking over and slapping a laminated municipal blueprint onto the hood of his parked pickup truck. "Look at the specs. Ten feet high, reinforced cedar posts, and a shingle roof that matches the pitch of my tool shed. Not an inch over the boundary. But I want a verbal agreement that your oak tree's leaves won't clog my new gutters every October."

My father stepped forward, peering closely at the blueprint over his reading glasses before looking up at our neighbor with a deadpan expression.

"Arthur, you've lived across the street from that oak tree for twenty-four years," my father pointed out. "It shed leaves when George Bush was in office, it shed leaves when the internet was invented, and it's going to shed leaves long after we're both feeding worms. You want a leaf-free gutter? Buy a screen filter."

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Henderson opened his mouth to argue, then closed it, letting out a sharp, relenting sigh before bursting into a hearty laugh. "Damn it, Tom, you're right. Always have been."

Henderson extended his hand toward my father, and the two aging neighbors locked grips in a firm, binding handshake. The Henderson Accord was officially ratified. No federal oversight required.

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