PART 2 — THE STRONG WIND
The recording showed everything.
At 12:47 in the morning, Ryan climbed over my fence carrying a fruit picker and two buckets.
He stripped apples from the branches, shook the smaller limbs and climbed into the tree when some fruit would not come loose. Several branches snapped beneath his weight.
Then he carried the apples to my front garden and dumped them across the grass.
He made six trips.
During the final trip, he stopped directly in front of the hidden camera to catch his breath.
His face was perfectly visible.
I watched the video twice.
Then I began planning.
I collected every apple that remained whole and left the damaged branches untouched. At two in the morning, I carried paper tags, string, gloves, a wheelbarrow and a large sign into my garden.
For the next three hours, I attached a numbered tag to each usable apple.
Every tag read:
“Removed from Sloane’s tree without permission.”
There were 245 apples.
I carried them carefully to Ryan’s garden and arranged them in perfect rows. I did not throw them, damage his plants or touch his house.
In the centre of the display, I placed a sign:
“Strong wind appears to blow both ways.”
Then I returned home and made coffee.
Ryan discovered the apples at sunrise.
His shouting woke half the street.
“What is this?” he yelled.
I stepped onto my porch.
“The wind must have been especially strong last night.”
“You did this!”
“I have no idea what you mean.”
“I’m reporting you to the homeowners’ association.”
“Go ahead.”
He had walked directly into the trap.
Mira arrived twenty minutes later. Ryan rushed toward her, claiming that I had covered his property with rubbish.
She examined the numbered rows and read the sign.
“Sloane, did you place these here?”
“Yes,” I answered. “I also have video showing how they were removed from my tree and scattered across my garden.”
The colour disappeared from Ryan’s face.
Mira turned toward him.
“Did you enter her property?”
“No.”
I held up my phone and played the recording.
The video showed Ryan climbing the fence, filling the buckets, breaking branches and dumping the fruit.
When it ended, the street fell silent.
Ryan claimed the branches had crossed onto his property.
The footage clearly showed that he had entered mine.
Then he accused me of editing the video.
Mira’s expression hardened.
“You had no right to enter her garden, damage her tree or remove the fruit.”
Ryan pointed toward the apples on his lawn.
“And she had the right to do this?”
“Placing items on another person’s property is not advisable,” Mira said.
“I’ll remove them,” I replied.
“After they have been documented,” she added.
By then, several neighbours had gathered nearby.
Mrs Patel from across the road stared at Ryan.
“You climbed into her garden in the middle of the night?”
Ryan ignored her.
Mira took out her phone.
“What are you doing?” he demanded.
“Calling the police.”
His confidence vanished.
“That isn’t necessary.”
“You trespassed and damaged private property.”
“It was only a tree.”
“It was not your tree.”
When the officers arrived, Ryan changed his story several times. First, he said the apples had fallen naturally. Then he claimed he had entered my garden to clean them up. Finally, he insisted I had given him permission.
The video disproved every version.
An arborist inspected the tree later that day. Two branches had suffered serious damage, but the tree would survive.
Ryan was fined, ordered to pay the repair costs and assigned community service.
The judge appeared to have a sense of humour.
Ryan was sent to help maintain the public orchard in the town park.
For several Saturdays, he picked apples, cleared leaves and removed fallen fruit from the paths.
The first time I drove past and saw him carrying a basket, I laughed so hard that I had to pull over.
