How to case a house

Last evening, as I stood on the deck waiting for Terry to come back inside, a police SUV crawled past the house. The officer reached the end of the street, turned around, and came back up the street. He drove slowly and flashed his spotlight into people’s yards. It hit me in the face and he stopped a moment to observe me. Then he saw Terry blast back up onto the deck with her tail wagging and he continued on up the street. Clearly, he was looking for someone. That tends to set one’s nerves a little on edge. He returned several times over the course of the evening.

A couple of minutes later, a friend across the street called with a shaky voice and said, “Someone just tried to get in my house. I called the police.”

It wasn’t your average type of break-in effort, either. She’d been sitting in her living room talking on the phone, with the television on, when someone quietly opened her front screen door and gently turned the door knob on the inside door...then pushed full body weight against the door. Fortunately, the door was locked with a good strong deadbolt. My friend peeked out the window and could see no one. There were no cars in front of the house. Whoever it was had been on foot. She was scared and, I have to admit, her tale made me jumpy. I turned on my back porch light and made sure my doors were locked.

“Did you see that guy who came around the neighborhood this afternoon?” she asked. “He stopped here and he wasn’t selling anything. All he had was a plastic cup in his hand and he asked for a ‘personal donation’. I told him I was busy and didn’t have time. I wonder if he came back tonight.”

I wondered, too. The young man was probably 20-ish and he was a bit scruffy. When he came to my house, my front door was wide open, though the screen/storm door was locked. He bounded up onto the porch and called through the screen, “Hello, hello, I’m here.” Oookay.....

I peered around the corner to take a look and providently he was staring off in the other direction at that moment. From what I could see, he was clearly not the usual Greenpeace kid or summer magazine sales type. And definitely not the Mormon or Jehovah’s Witness youngsters who inevitably turn up at least once a year. As a rule, I will not go to the door if I suspect someone is trying to sell something or convert me. And, indeed, he had a plastic cup in his hand and nothing else. I stayed out of sight and he left after a minute or so.

So did he return last night? That seems to be the consensus.

The neighborhood threw a large yard sale this morning and we neighbors were out chatting between customers. My friend’s house across the street wasn’t the only one hit. No one suffered any losses or anything, but evidently the same individual tried the doors on a number of houses up and down the street. I’d figured that mine was bypassed because my front door was still wide open and an uninvited guest would lose the element of surprise standing there in plain view. Several neighbors thought it was that kid from yesterday.

The only houses bothered last night were the ones where he’d made contact with the owner(s). Perhaps because he knew who was behind the doors. For all he knew, the rest of us could have included hulking 6 foot guys. There were barbells sitting on my living room floor and a couple of pairs of the lads shoes that I need to send to him. The kid would have surmised that there was a grown (and fit) man living in my house. If you’re going to bust in on someone in their living room, it’s probably quite advantageous to know exactly who is on the other side of the door. That is a clever way to case a house.

Although, really...if his intent was thievery, it would have made a lot more sense to wait until all the houses were dark and people were in bed. Maybe he just wanted a meal. Who knows?

In any case, I was glad when morning arrived (as we all were). I opened my eyes and thought, “Whew! I’m still here.”