There was a refugee bus in front of Sam’s house. The paint was dark and smooth but it had the feel of war surplus. There were three seats and then the rest of the bus was empty. It was hot. Angelina lay on her side beneath the bus. She didn’t even lift her head when I looked at her. The kitchen door was open. All the windows hung away from the house on their hinges. It was cool and dark inside. I dropped a bag of oranges into the sink and put a package of spinach into the freezer compartment. There was a strong, unfriendly smell inside the place. I heard a rubbing and scratching sound from somewhere. A mattress took up half the living room. It humped over the cushions and the piles of books. A mound of clothes was piled at one end. The noise and the smell came from the bedroom. I went to the door.

Carlotta was crouched in the bare little room scrubbing with a wad of wet rags. Next to her, the big saucepan was full of suds. An open bottle of green fluid sat beside it on the old boards of the floor. She rocked back and forth, rubbing at the wood until it was dark and wet and the stench of the disinfectant was stinging.

“Hello.”

She rocked back on her heels and looked at me. Her eyes were red and streaming. Clear snot ran from her nose down over her lips. Her smile was shiny with snot and tears.

“Why are you crying?” I asked.

“It’s just the disinfectant.”

“When’s our friend due?”

“Anytime.”

She brushed her arm across her face. There was a hole in the armpit of her sleeve. The seams of the red dress were split in places, and long ovals of her white flesh showed through. Her belly was wider than any other part of her.

“Spike’s wife is really nice. We’ve gone over there and they’ve come over here a few times. She told me all about what to do and what to get. She gave me some things, too. I went to her doctor. His name is Bump.”

“Will he come here?”

“No. But he looked and said everything seemed all right. He thinks I’m planning to go to a nearby clinic for the birth.”

“How do you feel?”

“Fine. I feel finer all the time. Any time now, my little boy will be here and everything will be all right.”

She continued scrubbing. Her belly jolted and swayed, it scared me. I took the rags from her. Her long white hands were sore and red and her knuckles bore deep cracks.

“The walls and ceilings are already done. The smell kind of bothers me.”