XXIX
DADDY’S HOME
I HAVE an intuition, Betty, that the men will soon be home,” Millie said one morning. “I’m going to mix some mud and fix up that unsightly hole in the kitchen wall, so the place doesn’t look so rundown when they arrive.” The months had been long and sometimes admittedly lonely for the two women carrying on the station. Mud houses aren’t easily made to look spick and span, but they set to work. Loose clay in the walls was patched up. The old rusty woodburning stoves were pulled out from the walls, and freshly blackened with stove polish. Startled cockroaches were unceremoniously routed from the cupboards and their eggs scraped off the underside of shelves. (Not that others wouldn’t swarm in to take their place.) Trunks that served as tables were stripped of fabric covers for washing. The Bacuris watched the preparations with enthusiasm.
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