When my wife and kids told me that they would love to go to my brother’s house to spend the weekend and kill boredom, I did not hesitate to give it the nod because I also needed some quiet time alone in the house. I was working on a proposal that was to be submitted on Monday morning via email. The insistence by the company to send it via email was because of the restriction in the movement of people over the COVID 19 issue.
My wife was a law enforcement agent and would not have any challenge navigating through the hundreds of checkpoints on the roads.
“Make sure you guys return on Monday,” I said as my wife led the kids out of the house. “I don’t want to hear stories.”
She chuckled. “There will be no stories. Please follow us to the junction so you can help me collect my clothes from the laundry man. He called to tell me that he would be waiting.”
I would not have left the house that morning if she hadn’t said that. Outside the gate where Mubarak had a kiosk, I saw three young men smoking cigarettes and engrossed in a hearty conversation.
“Ina kwana,” Mubarak greeted us cordially. “This one that everyone is dressed ceremonially, I don’t think this is a short journey.”
My wife nodded and smiled at him. “We will be back on Monday evening. Please put eyes on the house for us.”
He said he would. My wife hopped onto the driver’s seat and I sat beside her on the passenger’s side. My three kids giggled at one another as they occupied the back seat. Since her own car had had some mechanical fault and was taken away by the mechanic prior to the Corona virus pandemic, we had both been managing my own car. Carefully, she hurled the Toyota Corolla past Mubarak’s kiosk and honked. Mubarak had been a very good neighbour. He would keep an eye on the compound whenever we were not around.
In return, the family had also treated him like a brother.
The laundry man was not in the shop when we got there. My wife was furious because her uniforms were the clothes she had given him to wash. I decided to go and check on Tony at home. He was a very good friend whom I had learned a lot from. His own family had travelled as soon as the virus matter began and he had been all alone. He was glad to see me. We ate the food he prepared and watched a movie together. That took a long time.
By the time I returned home in the evening, Mubarak had closed because it was about to rain. The sky was thick with a storm.
I opened the main door and closed it carefully. That door needed repairs but I hadn’t bothered to fix it. If you shut it from the inside without sticking a paper in it, it would be difficult to open from the inside. Someone would have to open it from the outside or else you would remain trap inside. Several times, my wife had reminded me about it but I didn’t just care because the house was usually never empty.
Because I was alone, I was careful to put a piece of paper in it before closing it. And because I had no plans of going to bed immediately, I didn’t bother to lock it with a key. Never in my wildest imagination did I think that a burglar would break into the house that night.
I was watching the news on Aljazera when the lights went off. Soon, the rains began to hit the roof like pebbles thrown in hundreds from the sky. The wind too blew heavily like millions of giant birds flapping their wings.
I went into the bedroom and sleep found me there in no time.
It was the shrill cry of a baby that woke me up later. The rain had stopped. Darkness still enveloped the sky. It was past one o’ clock in the morning.
I began to wonder what was wrong with the child that was crying. Her voice tore miserably into the silence of the dark and made me feel very uncomfortable. What could be wrong with the child? I thought as I crept out of the bed towards the window.
The cry was coming from the house adjacent mine.
It was a small building without a fence. In front of it was a rickety Golf car painted in taxi colours. Since I bought the house over a year and a half before, I hadn’t bothered to know who my neighbours were.
I was still wondering why the baby was crying and disturbing the entire neighbourhood when I began to hear the sound of the front door opening. I wanted to scream but intuitively decided against that. The cry of the child continued to waft into my ears and I suddenly began to tremble.
Hang on for the Final Episode tomorrow…
© Japhet Prosper
Image : from Dark night movie, IMDb