"When you go in, throw a handful of these to the left. While they eat, you walk to the pool equipment on the right. If one approaches you, do not run. Just offer more peas. It's a toll."
Steve looked at the bag, then at me. "Okay, cool. I like peas."
We walked in. Steve was calm. He didn't have the stench of fear or entitlement on him. He tossed the peas to the squad, which swarmed the green treats, completely ignoring him.
"Nice birds," Steve said, kneeling down by the pump. "Chinese geese, right? My grandma had these. Loud as hell."
"They get the job done," I said.
Steve fixed the pump in 20 minutes. He even hand-fed Fluffy a few peas before he left.
"You know," Steve said as he packed up, "that lady down the street, the one with the hair helmet, stopped me on the way in. Asked me if I felt unsafe working here, asked if I wanted to file a report."
"What did you say?"
"I told her the birds were nicer than some of my human customers. She didn't like that."
I laughed. "Thanks, Steve."
This proved a crucial point. The geese weren't mindless killing machines. They were discerning judges of character.
They hated intruders. They hated aggression. And they really, really hated Mrs. Higgins.
We were now three weeks into the standoff. The grass in the backyard was getting long, but the geese kept the weeds down. I didn't care.
I was enjoying the solitude. But I knew the final boss battle was coming. Higgins had gone quiet. That meant she was plotting.
The blow fell on a Tuesday. I was working on a particularly nasty piece of code when my doorbell rang. Not the frantic ringing of a delivery guy, but the authoritative press and hold of someone who expects to be obeyed.
I checked the front door camera. It was Higgins. But she wasn't alone. She had a man with her wearing a city uniform. A badge hung around his neck. City Code Enforcement, and behind them was a guy in a locksmith van.
This was it, the nuclear option.
I opened the door. "Mr. Henderson," Higgins said. She was smiling. It was a terrifying, triumphant smile.
"This is Officer Davis from City Code Enforcement, and this is Mr. Lowry, a licensed locksmith."
"Can I help you?" I asked, leaning against the door frame.
"We are here to execute an emergency access order," Officer Davis said. He looked tired. He looked like a man who had been nagged into submission. "We have a report of a code violation regarding unpermitted structures and sanitation hazards in the rear of the property. The shed and the waste."
"The shed is under 120 square feet," I said. "No permit needed, and the waste is fertilizer."
"We need to verify that," Davis said. "And since you have refused entry to the HOA, the city is stepping in. We have the authority to remove locks to access the property for inspection."
"And the animals?" I asked.
"Animal Control is on their way," Higgins said, her eyes gleaming. "To impound the dangerous beasts."
"They're 20 minutes out," Davis corrected. "But we need to start the inspection now. I have a tight schedule."
"I wouldn't go in there without Animal Control, Dave," I said, using his first name from his badge to throw him off.
"It's Officer Davis, and I've handled dogs before. Open the gate or the locksmith will do it, and we will bill you for the service."
I looked at the locksmith. He was a young guy looking at his phone, completely uninterested in the politics of this suburban war.
"Fine," I said. "I'll unlock it, but I am formally stating that I am under duress, and I am warning you again. The geese are loose. They are territorial, and they do not respect city badges."
"Just open it," Higgins snapped.
I walked them around the side. I keyed the padlock I had put back on just to annoy her. I removed the chain.
"After you," I said, stepping back.
"Officer Davis, please proceed," Higgins commanded. She stood behind him, using him as a human shield.
Davis opened the gate. He stepped in. The yard was quiet. Too quiet.
"See?" Higgins said, pushing past him to get a better look. "They're probably hiding. Cowardly things."
They walked toward the shed. The locksmith stayed by the gate. Smart man. I pulled out my phone and started recording.
As they reached the middle of the lawn, roughly 20 feet from safety, the trap sprang. But it wasn't just a charge this time. It was a pincer movement.
Lucifer and Attila came from behind the shed, but Fluffy, Karen, Ripper, and Brutus came from under the deck, cutting off the retreat to the gate. They had been flanked.
"Oh crap," Davis said.
Lucifer let out a honk that sounded like a war horn. The charge began. Davis, to his credit, tried to stand his ground. He put his hands out. "Hey, hey, go back."