Double Take (5 page)

She watched as it grew smaller and smaller, then stared down at the wrinkled slip of paper still in her hand. Her bus ticket to New York. She pushed up her sleeve and looked at Madison’s pretty silver watch to see it was already close to five o’clock. It seemed her only option was to go to the bus station and proceed with Madison’s crazy plan. What choice did she have? And what did she have to lose anyway? What if she was able to find Jacob in New York City? Wouldn’t that make all of this worthwhile?

As Anna sat on the bus station bench, studying Madison’s notes and trying not to feel too guilty, she remembered something her father sometimes said when something strange occurred on the farm or in the community.
God works in mysterious ways.

Was it possible that God could do something with this mysterious mess that she and Madison had created? Anna bowed her head and attempted to pray. Suddenly she became aware that her head was uncovered—not only that, but she was wearing boys’ trousers! How would it be possible for God to listen to her prayers now? Oh, what had she done?

Madison leaned back in the seat of the buggy and sighed. So far so good. Anna’s uncle hadn’t even given her a second glance. As she looked out the window, watching the houses along the street slowly pass by, she felt transported to another time. The rhythmic rumble of the wheels rolling down the uneven street, the gentle swaying of the carriage, the afternoon shadows of trees and sunlight—all made Madison very sleepy. She briefly considered a nap, but unsure of the length of the buggy ride, she decided it made more sense to study her notes.

She reached for the duffel bag and suddenly remembered something. She had forgotten to get her Blackberry from Anna! That was going to be her lifeline. She had meant to hide it somewhere, just in case. She’d meant to pocket a Visa card too. But in those last minutes in the café, as they tried to exchange information, it happened so fast—the uncle arrived early, and now she was cut off. She smoothed the front of her apron and took in a deep breath, slowly letting it out. Wasn’t this exactly what she’d wanted—to disconnect from all the pushing and pulling in her life? Well, here she was.

She pulled out her notes and booklets and spread them out on the worn leather seat. She decided to practice a phrase that she planned to use to explain her loose grasp of Pennsylvania Dutch language—her everything excuse.
I fell and hurt my head
. . .
I cannot remember some things.
Hopefully it would work.

Madison’s childhood friend Lucinda Tompkins had suffered a head injury while skiing, and it had changed her personality as well as her language skills. If Madison could just convince Anna’s relatives that this had happened to her, perhaps they would overlook some things.

But the more she thought about this whole mad scheme, the crazier it all seemed. Had she lost her mind? She wondered what Anna would do when the week was up and it was time to change places again. How would Anna explain her sudden ability to communicate clearly again? Would she have to pretend she’d fallen and hit her head again and returned to her senses? Really, this whole thing was nuts. Yet it was fun too. Madison decided she would coach Anna when they met in town—create a reentry plan.

Of course, this brought up a whole new set of challenges. How would Madison schedule this exchange meeting without the convenience of her cell phone? And without revealing her true identity, which would get Anna into trouble, how would Madison convince Uncle Daniel, who seemed a bit on the grumpy side, to bring her back to town next Saturday?

Madison shook her head and turned her attention back to her pages of notes. She would have to think about her exit strategy later. Right now she needed to do all she could to pull this off successfully. Fortunately, she’d taken a couple years of drama and loved participating in productions. For this performance, she should win a Tony! She tugged up one of the black stockings and went over her notes.

After about an hour, the charm of riding in the buggy had worn off. They were well into the countryside now, and the road was bumpier than ever. Madison’s backside was starting to ache, and she desperately needed to use a restroom. She pulled out the house plan that Anna had sketched and searched for the location of the bathroom. Hopefully there would be one on the first floor and near the front door because she needed to go—bad. But she couldn’t find a bathroom on either the first or second story. Anna seemed to have forgotten to include this.

Madison was tempted to call out to Uncle Daniel, asking him how far it was to the house, or if he might care to make a rest stop, but he was just turning down what appeared to be a long driveway. She peered out the window to spot a red barn and a tall white farmhouse at the end. In the dusky light, with the periwinkle sky and the golden light in the windows, this charming, quintessential scene could’ve been on a calendar or postcard.

As the buggy drew closer, she spotted a small structure between the house and barn, a shedlike building that looked very much like an outhouse. Not that she’d ever actually seen a real outhouse in person, but she’d seen them on shows like
Little House on the Prairie
. Was it possible that this outhouse was the family’s bathroom? If so, why hadn’t Anna mentioned this? Madison shuddered. Why hadn’t she considered this possibility?

The buggy finally pulled to a stop near the house, and Madison fumbled with the door, rushing to get out. Uncle Daniel was saying something to her, but she just waved her hand at him. “Toilet!” she exclaimed as she hurried toward the small structure, which did indeed appear to be an outhouse.

Opening the wooden door, she held her breath and felt thankful that she wasn’t wearing her normal clothes, because she discovered that when you’re in a hurry, a simple dress with a full skirt could be thrown over your shoulders, which made using the toilet much faster and easier. The small space was definitely rustic and the smell was disgusting, but all in all it was better than having an accident. How embarrassing would that be?

However, as she finished up, fumbling in the dusky light to find a roll of sandpaper-grade toilet paper, she wasn’t too sure she’d care to make a trip out here in the middle of the night. Seriously, what had she gotten herself into? And how long would it take to get out of it? She pulled down her dress, straightened her apron, and quickly emerged from the smelly outhouse, gasping for fresh air as the door slammed closed behind her.

Uncle Daniel was waiting nearby, peering curiously at her. He said something she thought was an inquiry as to what she’d been doing, which seemed rather obvious.

She pointed to the outhouse. “Toilet.”

She blinked as he questioned her judgment in his odd-sounding German. Then he told her rather explicitly that there was a toilet
in the house
. Well, go figure.

He pointed to the outhouse now. “That is for
Yuchend
.”

She couldn’t help but laugh. He was informing her that the outhouse was for the boys. She held up her hands and gave him a helpless look, again speaking in German, saying, “I don’t know.” It was a phrase she would probably use often this week. If she made it for a full week.

With her bag in one hand, Daniel waved toward the house, telling her to come to dinner.

She rubbed her stomach for dramatic effect, telling him in German that she was very hungry.

He frowned curiously at her as he held the back door open. She suspected her German was not working for him. Or else he was questioning her identity, but she hoped not. Certainly she hadn’t blown it already.

She followed him into an old-fashioned kitchen that was lit by several kerosene lanterns. There he greeted a very round woman with tired eyes, obviously Aunt Rachel, then he went out of the kitchen, saying something about putting Anna’s bag in a room. He seemed eager to get away.

“Anna! Anna!” The plain-looking woman put a lid on a black pot, then rushed over and wrapped her arms around Madison and pulled her close.

“Aunt Rachel.” Madison returned the hug. Her nose was being assaulted by so many different aromas now. Food cooking, perspiration, mustiness—not terrible smells, but they would take some getting used to.

Rachel held Madison at arm’s length, staring into her eyes, and in that same odd German she said that Anna was different. Madison nodded nervously. How could it be that Rachel was already suspicious? Anna said it had been two years since she’d seen her aunt. Wasn’t it possible that Anna had changed somewhat since then? As a distraction device, Madison pointed to Rachel’s bulging midsection, inquiring to her well-being.

Rachel shook her head, telling her she wasn’t feeling too good.

Madison made a sympathetic face, then hearing the voices of children in the other room, she nodded her head toward the doorway, asking about the children.
“Un die Kinner?”

Rachel let out a sigh, pushing a loose strand of mousy brown hair behind her ear, saying that as usual the children were loud and busy. As if on cue, the young voices in the other room grew shriller, and Madison was unsure of what to do. She wanted to look around, study the old-fashioned kitchen, figure things out. But that might draw Rachel’s attention. What would Anna say or do now?

Before she could think of anything, Rachel took Madison’s face in both her hands and examined her closely. Her words said that Anna looked older, but Rachel had a question in her gray eyes, as if something was not quite right.

“
Ja
,
ja
,” Madison said in a dismissive way. Was the jig up—had Rachel already figured it out? Before Rachel could press deeper, Madison offered to go check on the children. Thankfully, this seemed to please Rachel.

Madison hurried from the kitchen into the next room, which was boxy and plain. Although the wide plank floors were attractive and a big rock fireplace dominated one wall, the general impression was sparse. There were a few pieces of rustic-looking wooden furniture lining one wall. There were no paintings, and other than several strategically placed kerosene lanterns, there were no decorative touches of any kind. On a worn rag rug in the center of the floor, three boys dressed in old-fashioned trousers with suspenders were arguing loudly, it seemed, over a wooden board game.

“Hello,” Madison said cautiously.

One of the older boys jumped to his feet. “Nicht Anna!”

She recognized the word for
cousin
and paused for a moment, trying to recall the twins’ names. She took a wild guess as to which one this was. “Ezra?”

“Ja!”
He laughed as she ruffled his blond curls.

“And Noah.” She pointed to the identical boy. That was easy. She’d gotten lucky with the twins, but it wasn’t likely to happen again. She pointed to the younger boy. “And Jeremiah.”

He smiled shyly, then, while his brothers were distracted, he grabbed up some pieces from the board game and took off running. The two older boys yelled something unintelligible and chased after him. Jeremiah ran into a little dark-haired girl who had just toddled around the corner, knocking her onto her bottom on the hard floor. She burst into loud sobs. Just like that, chaos erupted, with the older boys yelling at Jeremiah and the toddler wailing. Madison wanted to cover her ears.

Instead she went over and picked up the crying girl, attempting to soothe her, but little Elizabeth’s wailing grew more intense, probably from being held by a stranger. Then the volume of the boys’ voices increased. Ezra shouted instructions at Madison, telling her to put down Elizabeth, who was now kicking her feet. Meanwhile Noah was demanding that Jeremiah return the game pieces.

As Madison set the struggling toddler back on the floor, she knew she was in over her head. This was too hard. She would not last one full day in this house. What on earth had she been thinking?

But there was no time to think. Rachel was calling them to dinner now.
“Schnell!”

Like magic, all the children, including the sobbing toddler, raced to the kitchen and scrambled into their wooden chairs. Rachel helped Elizabeth into her high chair, but the child was still fussing, and the boys continued to bicker over the board game. When their father entered the room, the decibel level went down considerably. Other than a few more whimpers from Elizabeth, the table grew amazingly quiet as Daniel bowed his head as if to pray. Everyone followed his example, including Madison. No words came from his mouth, although he appeared to be praying silently. Still, she was astonished at how long he kept his head bowed, and she was certain the food would be cold by the time he finished. But most astonishing was how his previously uncontrollable children waited patiently, especially when she was feeling fidgety.

When he finally lifted his head, the meal proceeded in a quiet and controlled fashion. It seemed obvious that these children respected, perhaps even feared, their father. Conversation was minimal, and the main focus was on the food and eating. It seemed that a special meal of baked ham, scalloped potatoes, and green beans had been prepared in honor of Nicht Anna’s visit. The food, while plain and simple, was fairly palatable, or else Madison was just hungry.

When dinner was over, it seemed clear that the expectation was that Nicht Anna would wash the dishes while Aunt Rachel went to put her feet up.

The family had barely left the room when Madison knew this was going to be hopeless. Not only was there no dishwasher, which she barely knew how to operate anyway, but after running the tap water into the big stone sink, she realized there was no hot water either. How could there be with no electricity? She studied the sink area, trying to think how to best tackle something like this. A large enamel pan already had some gray soapy water in it, but it was cold and disgusting. She dumped it down the sink, then went over to where a big black wood-burning stove dominated the back wall of the kitchen. On it was a large cast-iron kettle. When she lifted it, she discovered it was extremely heavy—but it was also full of hot water.

Feeling like a clueless alien, Madison slowly put together a plan for washing the dishes. She would fill the enamel pan with this hot water, add soap—or what she hoped was soap—then wash the dishes in the hot soapy water and stack them in the sink. After that she would pour more water over them, and hopefully that would rinse off the soap. It seemed feasible. But as she attempted to carry out this plan, everything took exceedingly long. By the time she finally started to dry the dishes—which, thanks to the stubborn soap, had to be rinsed several times and eventually in cold water since she’d used all the hot—her arms were exhausted.

“Oh, Anna, Anna.” Rachel frowned as she came into the kitchen.

Madison held out her now soggy apron, staring hopelessly at the dishes spread around the counters of the still messy kitchen. She was so frustrated she felt close to tears. And her hands looked like prunes.

Rachel looked truly disappointed as she asked Madison what was wrong.

Madison attempted to answer, explaining in a mix of broken German and English what she was doing, or attempting to do. But knew she sounded like an imbecile. Rachel shook her head and rambled on about how Anna was doing it all wrong—
all wrong
.