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 boar
d 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.
Madison held up her hands hopelessly, admitting that she knew it was wrong but couldn’t help it.
Rachel studied Madison with a creased brow, then asked in German, “What happened to Anna? Did she get taken away, replaced with another girl?”
At least that’s what Madison thought she said, but she wasn’t sure because this dialect was so different from what she’d learned in school and what she’d spoken in Germany last summer. Anyway, it seemed obvious that Rachel had figured her out. She appeared to know that Madison was an imposter. What now?
Madison just shrugged, ready to quit this crazy game. She felt slightly sick to her stomach, not to mention tired.
Rachel put a hand on Madison’s forehead as if to see if she had a fever. That’s when Madison remembered her “get out of jail free” line. Perhaps it was worth a try. She would do her best for Anna’s sake. Using her best German mixed with English, and showing a sad expression, Madison told Rachel a whopper, saying she’d suffered a concussion that had damaged her memory and language skills. Not unlike a device employed in a poorly written soap opera. Would Rachel buy this story, or would she see right through her and throw her from her house?
Rachel looked concerned, asking when this fall had happened.
Madison thought fast and then continued her pathetic little story in broken German and English, saying how she’d slipped on the ice last winter, falling and hitting her head on a rock and lying there unconscious for some time. Rachel nodded as if she understood how this might happen. Madison pointed to her mouth, saying her words got jumbled at times, and it was very odd, but she now understood English better than German.
Again Rachel nodded. Finally Madison pointed to her head, saying her thoughts were jumbled too and that she forgot many ordinary household things like how to wash dishes. Rachel put an arm around Madison’s shoulders and squeezed her. “Poor Anna. I know something is unnerschittlich—I mean you are different.”
Madison begged Rachel not to tell her mother about this. “Mamm will worry,” she said, going on to say how her mother had been anxious about letting Anna come to help, but that she’d assured her mother she would be all right. Most of all, Madison wanted to ensure that Rachel didn’t report this tangled tale back to Anna’s mother.
“Ja. I know what we will do.” Rachel gave her a firm nod. “I will help you. And you will help me. Together we will work this out.”
“Together?” Madison asked hopefully.
“Ja, ja.” Rachel pressed a forefinger to her lips. “It is our secret.”
Rachel helped Madison to finish up the kitchen work in the proper way. She showed her “simple” tasks like how to store perishable foods in the icebox. She reminded her of the right way to dry the dishes and where the dishes went. How to save the food scraps into the right containers—blue bucket was for compost, black bucket was for pigs and chickens. Rachel was basically treating Madison as if she were learning impaired. Maybe she was.
After that they worked together to put the boys to bed, all the while Rachel instructing Anna step-by-step how to do this and that, which pegs to hang which clothes, where to place the dirty clothes, where the boys were to set their boots, how to help Jeremiah wash his face with a rough cloth, how to listen to their prayers, and to be sure not to leave the kerosene lantern behind since Jeremiah nearly set the curtains on fire recently. Finally they stood in the hallway next to the door to the bedroom that Madison was to share with Elizabeth.
“Denki, Anna.” Rachel clasped her hand. “Good Nacht.”
Madison told Rachel good night and thanked her too. With a kerosene lantern in hand, she tiptoed into the room where Elizabeth was already tucked into her small wooden bed. Madison paused to listen to the even breathing of the baby, and not for the first time, she felt guilty for being an imposter in this family. She shuddered to think of how these people might react, especially the sullen father, if they discovered she was not Anna but an interloper from the outside. It was frightening.
But Madison was so exhausted, she didn’t have the energy to consider these things too seriously. By the time she searched through Anna’s duffel bag—not bothering to hang anything on the pegs by the window, just digging until she found what she assumed was a nightgown since it was plain white cotton—all she wanted to do was sleep. The narrow bed creaked as she climbed into it, and despite the grainy feel of the rough sheets, the hardness of the mattress, the musty smell, and the strangeness of everything, Madison was thankful for this bed. Every bone in her body felt tired. As she was drifting off to sleep, she knew she would not be able to continue her charade. It was impossible.
In the morning she would come clean about everything. She would confess the truth to Rachel, beg to be taken to a phone since there was none in the house, and call Anna and tell her to come back here. Really, it was ridiculous to think she could pull this off. As for taking a break from her real life . . . well, she’d been wrong, wrong, wrong. For starters, this was no break. Even if her real life had some forms of stress, compared to living the
Amish life, it was easy-breezy. It seemed her illusions about the simple life were just that—illusions!
6
Anna’s heart pounded as she stepped onto the big silver bus. She’d never been on a bus before, had no idea what to expect. She hurried to find a seat, setting Madison’s purse in her lap and waiting to see what happened next. The bus started to move, slowly at first and then faster. Suddenly she was clutching the seat, fearful that this big bus might go so fast it would fly right off the road.
To distract herself, she looked out the window, watching the countryside whizzing past. Fields, barns, horses, cows . . . What if a loose cow wandered in front of the bus? Surely there would be a horrible wreck. What then?
A young woman dressed in gray pants and a red jacket sat across the aisle from Anna. She opened a black leather satchel—or perhaps it was a briefcase—and slid out a smooth black object, opening it up like a book, only sideways. Anna peered at it curiously. Was it a computer? She knew what computers were—sort of—and she knew that Mr. Riehl supposedly had one (strictly for business use and something he never spoke of). She’d read of them in books, but she’d never actually used one herself.
Anna tried not to stare as the woman peered intently at a blue screen, pausing now and then to do something with the buttons. Anna wished she was brave enough to ask the woman what she was doing. It was taking all her confidence and self-control simply to sit there—to not stand up and scream, “Stop this bus and let me off!”
Anna looked ahead of her to see an elderly man reading a newspaper. On the other side, a woman about her mother’s age was reading a hardback book. Anna wished she’d had the foresight to have purchased a book before boarding this bus. That would have helped to pass the time. She couldn’t imagine how long it would take to reach New York. Wasn’t it an awful long ways away? Perhaps she wouldn’t even be there until morning. Yet if that was so, where would she sleep? Right here on the seat? Why hadn’t she thought to ask? Madison had written it all down—perhaps that was the “book” Anna needed to read right now.
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