I played a silly prank in my mister few years ago. While he was away the plumber came to do some maintenance, so I had to move some things around to create access to the drainage pipes. Mister came back home before I reorganized the house, and when he noticed some things were not in their place, I acted traumatized and informed him that we had been robbed. He was worried, angry and sad, he felt helpless for a minute only to realize I was joking when I burst into laughter. He promised he will get back at me.
I was having lunch with my brother when I received the call. Immediately I remembered what I had done, I knew he was pulling a prank on me. “We have been robbed” he said to me. It was impossible for this to have happened. We have heard stories of people being robbed, we have empathized with some of them, but how could anyone rob us? You never imagine.
We lived in a secure place, with Closed Circuit Television Cameras all over the compound. We had two gates between the outside and our house. Our entry door was strong, as strong as the church doors. Why are church doors that extra strong? Who would want to lock in Christ or lock out anyone from reaching Him? I don’t get it. Anyway, we had church door strong doors at our entry way, and behind those double doors was our home, our entire intimate being.
I didn’t imagine why and how someone would intrude into our space, so I did not believe him, until I got home that evening.
I first leaned forward and pushed my head through the door. I let my eyes wonder and survey the losses. My flat screen was missing, for someone who loves her movies, it’s the first thing I noticed. Whomever it was made away with my telly. I took a deep breath and then walked in, we had been ransacked.
At this point my Sherlock Holmes instincts kicked in. I desperately needed to find the culprit. I knew it was one person because two or more would have caused greater losses. I needed to find this fellow, not to have him arrested or punished. I just needed to give him a strong and angry woman slap. A woman slap would have made me feel better. This kind of slap is strong, and it usually straight from the heart, at this point I felt it would make sense to just slap him. By the way we had been ransacked, it couldn’t possibly be a woman, she would have had some sense of organization.
Walking into our bedroom made my emotions run higher. I did not understand what this man was looking for under our bed. I understood him stealing perfumes and clothes, I even saw why mister’s electronics would have caught his eyes, but why in hell would anyone look under the bed?
Our neighbors had no idea who had come in unnoticed, the cameras were conveniently not working and the police came by and left leaving behind more fear than hope in our hearts. We didn’t understand if they needed to be bribed to investigate further or if they were just disinterested.
I stayed awake that night. I was afraid of what could have happened if the burglar decided to return in the darkness of the night. Seeing that this mysterious person had combed through our house, I felt so helpless and vulnerable. I was in deep thoughts, what exactly was this person looking for under our bed? What did he take and what was he planning on taking at a later date? What would have happened if I were in the house and he found me bumming on our couch watching some series? Wait, am I actually afraid of watching my own series and bumming in my own house? A house that we sweat blood to maintain?
This one petty criminal had aroused a lot of emotions that not only gave me sleepless nights but also worrisome days.
Even with all this confused feelings, I couldn’t help but blame myself a bit. How had such a person walked through our church like doors and seen nothing church like in the inside? I had to do something, I had to leave him a message for the next time he brings his unwelcome self into our space. I pulled down one of my favorite photos from my most priced frames and put in a note with clear words ‘Jesus Loves You’ I then placed it strategically by the door, such that no one would miss it if they walked through. I needed him to find something Christ like, then maybe, just maybe that is enough to help him turnaround from his sticky fingers. I also often leave some food, in case he comes hungry. That’s the character irony you become when you get robbed.
As for everything else, that is just but vanity.