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Chapter XII
Phobia Of Thieves

 

In an earlier chapter, I recommended that you be wary of thieves. With excess interfering in everything, fear of burglars can become obsessive, and even border madness. Those who suffer from this psychosis spend their entire life waiting in anguish for the intrusion of a housebreaker.

Personally, I know in Puerto Plata a few gentlemen who are afflicted with this horrible phobia of thieves. According to rumors circulating in the city, these kleptophobes are trying to resist falling asleep every night as long as possible. It seems they want to have full use of their faculties to receive the hypothetical nocturnal visitor, and eventually to hunt him down by lodging a bullet in his buttocks.

Now let us consider the economics of this morbid fear of robbers. Firstly, it should be noted that most of these obsessed individuals build around their house a Cyclopean wall, crowned by threatening and murderous coils of concertina wire. Without exaggeration, I can only say in passing that the ridiculous amount spent for the erection of this impenetrable wall would be nearly enough to complete the construction of a modest house. However, this gigantic structure akin to real fortifications is not enough to appease these paranoids. Who knows? If a thief succeeds in climbing the imposing barrier, one must prevent him at all costs to enter the house.

Now comes the time to talk about the ruinously expensive category of antitheft devices: first, many wrought iron fences that are installed at all doors and windows of the house, including lucarne and oxeye windows. The manufacture and installation of all those metal guards is so expensive that they could have, for the same price, build another small home.

I would be remiss to ignore the dismal appearance conferred to these houses by this expensive precaution. Virtually, every home equipped with these outrageously simple or ornate fences, have become inhospitable prisons. By observing the occupants of these houses, sitting on a porch facing the street, you realize they resemble unhappy people incarcerated behind sturdy iron bars.

All things considered I think I prefer the house of my friend Anselmo. Although he is part of the fellowship of people obsessed by thieves, his luxurious villa has no enclosed verandas like a wild beast's cage. In return, each wooden door is decorated with three locks and a hasp with a large padlock. Upon hearing the doorbell, Anselmo comes running with an incredible keychain of fifty keys as he wastes two long minutes before finding those he needs.

For enhanced security, my friend has seen fit acquiring two menacing guard dogs and a sophisticated alarm system, which cost him a small fortune.

However, I think that on the topic of protection against the intrusion of thieves, we must strive to maintain balance. On the one hand, we must not forget to take some intelligent and practical measures. On the other hand, we should not fall into the opposite extreme, spending a considerable amount of money to make an impenetrable citadel out of our home.

After all, the results are often relative. This reminds me of a lengthy ritual that my father carefully observed before going to bed. Each evening, he spent at least fifteen minutes hanging antitheft devices on every door of the house. These safety devices were none other than pots, bowls, and all kinds of aluminum utensils. A thief, by touching one of these doors, would immediately cause an audible alarm generated by the tumble of the kitchenware. My father, a poor insomniac, would then jump immediately out of bed.

Lo and behold on a beautiful morning, my farsighted dad, noticed upon awakening that an unoccupied room of our house had been thoroughly ransacked by a burglar. Yet all the antitheft metallic paraphernalia was in place and had not moved a hair.

Warned by a sixth sense, the villain who must have been pretty skinny, broke into the house, sneaking in a through an imperfectly barred dormer window.

 

English Translation By Vadim Dambreville

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