Since the night Zera had returned, she, Walda, and Egen made it a ritual to pray together each evening before retiring to their separate rooms. Two weeks passed quietly. Yara went about her usual routine waking early, cleaning the house, cooking when needed, sometimes reading, and occasionally visiting friends during the day.
It was the first day of the first week after Easter, just a few days since they'd celebrated as a family. Around 8 PM, Zera stepped outside to enjoy the night breeze.
The compound was peaceful, lined with flowered sidewalks, the air scented with lemon trees. Lamps hung from the house walls, casting a warm glow across the compound.
On the balcony, there was a seat she often used to relax. Yara would usually place a kettle of basil tea there for her, kept warm on a small stove.
"I'll rest a bit before prayers," Zera murmured, patting her stomach lightly as she made her way toward the balcony in brisk steps.
But just as she approached the first stair leading up, something caught her eye. It looked like a bundled knot of threads, with two lines on either side holding the center together. She bent closer to see what it was but they weren't threads.
They were termites crawling over one another, swarming in a concentrated stream. Zera turned instinctively, scanning the ground. To her shock, she had already stepped on a line of them making their way toward the stairs.
"What is it now, Lord?" she whispered to herself, her heart pounding. Her eyes darted around the balcony and windows, searching for more routes and there they were. Lines of termites disappearing into the grass and crawling along the balcony.
"Walda," she called cautiously, careful not to disturb the termites further.
"Walda!" Her voice trembled slightly as she noticed more routes on the windows too.
It was Egen who appeared first, coming from his study table near the sitting room.
"Mom, what's wrong?" he asked, stepping out and scanning the area.
"Be careful there are termites all over," Zera said, pointing to the balcony and the windows.
"Oh my Lord, where could these be coming from? " Egen breathed, carefully stepping past the insects toward the tea stove.
"I'll get some oil to burn them," Zera added, turning swiftly toward the kitchen.
Walda joined Egen on the balcony. The two stood together, watching the shifting lines of insects with concern.
"What could this mean?" Walda asked, brows knitted tightly as her arms folded across her chest.
"I'm not sure," Egen replied, his eyes flicking around the compound. "Could be the weather."
Walda soon returned with a bowl of oil.
"Let's start with this heap at the stairs," she said holding a small ladle in her right hand.
Together, they poured oil along the termite routes and a match was struck. Sending flames through the termite lines, quickly consuming the insects. From the balcony, they watched the fire cleanse the paths.
Yara, meanwhile, was in the kitchen preparing for the next day, unaware of what was happening outside.
After the fire died down, Walda swept away the remains, and with Egen's help, they disposed of them in the flowerbed soil.
Two hours passed. The house quieted as everyone settled for the night. Yara was in the inner kitchen, placing utensils back in their cupboards. Then she remembered she had left some pans in the outside kitchen.
Careful not to wake anyone, she tiptoed to the back door and opened it slowly. She hurried to the kitchen and picked the pans off the counter and rushed back toward the back door.
Suddenly,
Du du du Dududu du du
A knock, Loud and rhythmic hit the gate, an old wooden one, too tall for someone to climb quickly.
Yara froze but before she reached for the handle, she heard Zera's voice at the gate.
"Who is Mom talking to this late?" she whispered, curiosity flaring.
Yara placed the pans down and slid through the side of the house and up toward the front. Her petite frame blended with the wall's edge as she pressed into a shadowed corner on the balcony, eyes fixed on the gate.