Double Take

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Double Take Page 8

by Melody Carlson


  The waiter left, and Garret turned back to her. “So your car . . . where is it?”

  “I had to leave it in Friedrich,” she told him. “Until it’s fixed.”

  He looked dubious. “Don’t tell me you’re trusting some small-town mechanic with your beloved Cooper?”

  She thought for a moment. Perhaps Cooper was another word for car. “A very fine mechanic,” she said. “But I thought you wanted to hear my story, Garret. Or do you prefer to talk about Cooper?”

  He nodded. “Yes, please, continue your story. It’s like something from The Twilight Zone.”

  She wasn’t sure how to respond to that either, so she simply continued. “While in Allentown I met a girl who was Amish, and we spent quite a bit of time together. You see, I was waiting for the bus to come.” She paused to take a sip of some of the strange fizzy water that he’d ordered for her.

  He still looked puzzled, but thankfully, he kept his mouth shut.

  “The girl’s name was Anna, and she told me about her boyfriend who is living in New York City.”

  Garret’s perplexed expression seemed to be bordering on boredom now.

  She needed to hurry her story. “I told this Anna that I would try to find her boyfriend for—”

  “Hey, is he one of those guys like on that MTV show with the weird name? You know, where Amish force their teens to go out and live on their own, and these guys do all kinds of wild and crazy—”

  “No. Not that kind of rumspringa,” she said quickly.

  “Yeah, that’s what it’s called. Rumspringa.”

  “It is not like that,” she told him. She considered how much to say without revealing her true identity. “Anna told me that Jacob didn’t agree with his family on some things. He had a grandfather who’d come from New York. So Anna felt sure that Jacob would be here.”

  “Did Anna have an address or phone number?”

  Anna frowned. “No. Just his name.”

  Garret gave her a hopeless look. “Finding an Amish guy with just a name? Let me guess, his last name is Smith. That should make it really easy.”

  “No. His last name is Glick. Jacob Edgar Glick.”

  “Even so . . .” He shook his head. “You’ll never find him.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  Garret went on and on in a rather arrogant way, talking about how many people lived in the New York City metro area, how there were so many boroughs, so many places for people to hide who didn’t want to be found. “And with no phone . . .” He held up his hands. “Impossible.”

  “For someone who sounds so smart, like he’s such an expert, you certainly give up easily.”

  “I’m an expert?” He frowned.

  “You talk as if you know so much about it, Garret. As if you are so much smarter than I am. Doesn’t that sound like an expert?”

  He shrugged. “Not really.”

  “Just not smart enough to actually find someone though.” She was hoping to challenge him. It was a tactic that often worked with her brothers—to act as if something was too hard for them—and then they would attempt it.

  “I don’t know.” With a thoughtful expression, he broke a piece of bread in two. “I might be able to find him.”

  “Really?” She tried not to look too hopeful.

  “Why is it so important to you anyway, Madison? Since when did you start to care about poor little Amish girls?”

  “They’re people too, aren’t they?”

  His eyes narrowed slightly, almost as if he suspected he wasn’t really speaking to Madison.

  “Remember what I said, that change is good.” She smiled. “I thought you liked that.”

  To her relief, he smiled back. “I do like it. I’m just trying to get used to it.”

  Their food was served, and as she imitated how he ate and tried to pretend she was enjoying some strange-tasting foods, she also worked to keep him distracted. She hoped she was getting him involved by plying him with questions about how one would hunt down a missing person in New York. By the time they were served dessert, some kind of a chocolate cake that was actually quite tasty, Garret almost seemed to be growing interested in helping her. Unfortunately, he seemed equally interested in getting her to come to a vacation house with him—one that was owned by his family and was vacant for the entire week.

  “I can’t think of going anywhere or doing anything,” she told him when they were back at Madison’s building, “until I do everything possible to find Jacob Glick. I promised Anna.”

  “So you’re saying that if we locate this Glick dude, you’ll come to Nantucket with me?”

  “I thought you said it would be impossible to find him,” she said in a teasing tone.

  “Well, maybe I want to prove myself wrong.”

  She gave him her biggest smile. “If you do that, Garret, you will be my own personal hero.”

  His eyes lit up. “Really?”

  She nodded.

  “Can I come up with you?” he asked as he helped her out of the car.

  “No.” She shook her head. “All I want to do is go to bed right now.”

  He made a face like a small boy might do. “It’s not even late.”

  “I am very tired.”

  “Okay. I’ll call you in the morning.”

  “Oh yes.” She remembered something. “My phone is broken.”

  “Broken?” He looked dubious.

  “Yes. I was talking to Vivian and it quit working.”

  “It was charged?”

  She frowned. “Charged?”

  His brow creased like he questioned her sensibility or, worse, her identity.

  “Thank you for dinner,” she said quickly. “I need to go to bed so I can get up early tomorrow. I will start looking for Jacob Glick.”

  He gave her a mystified look, but it seemed tinged with something else too. Perhaps admiration. “You know, Madison, I’m liking this change in you. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so concerned about someone else. It’s kind of attractive.” He leaned toward her, but before he could kiss her (she felt certain that was about to happen), she slipped away, shooting him a big grin as she waved and dashed toward the doorman.

  “See you, Garret.”

  “I’ll call you in the morning,” he yelled after her.

  “Thank you!”

  Anna knew she was being false. She knew it was wrong to trick Garret into helping her like this, playing as if she would reward him somehow if he found Jacob. But it seemed her only chance. It seemed a safe risk. As badly as she wanted it, what were the chances Garret would actually find Jacob? If he didn’t, she would owe him nothing.

  On the other hand, if he did find Jacob . . . well, wouldn’t that just change everything? Naturally, her real identity would be revealed then. How could she keep it a secret with Jacob in the picture? And if he was in the picture, it would no longer matter what she’d promised to Garret. All that would matter would be starting a new life with Jacob.

  At least that’s what she told herself as she fell into a bed so soft she imagined it was a cloud, like a heavenly bed she might sleep in someday. That is, if she ever straightened out her life enough to have a chance to be received in heaven. That seemed highly unlikely now.

  8

  Something had disturbed Madison’s sleep. Not that she’d been sleeping very soundly since this mattress must’ve been stuffed with potatoes, or maybe rocks. She had been having an interesting dream that she wanted to finish—traveling in a foreign country, she’d been speaking and thinking in fluent German.

  “Mamm! Mamm! Mamm!”

  Madison sat up and rubbed her eyes. What was that? Blinking to see a dull gray light peeking beneath the bottom of the white linen curtain on the window, she realized it was predawn. Had she ever been up this early before? Maybe at summer camp. She heard a rooster crow, followed by the sound of a child crying. Then she remembered where she was—realizing this wasn’t just a dream.

  “Mamm! Mamm!”

  �
�Shush, shush,” Madison told Elizabeth. She spoke in perfect German—just like in her dream. Although telling this fussing child to go back to sleep was probably like telling the sun not to come up.

  With great reluctance, Madison got out of bed. Shivering, she crept across the drafty pine floor to peer into the wooden crib. Elizabeth looked at her with a curious expression, watery eyes, and a drippy nose.

  “Guder Mariye,” Madison said in a gentle voice. “What do you want?”

  Elizabeth held her hands out to be picked up.

  “You want Nicht Anna to hold you?”

  Elizabeth nodded as if she understood English. Maybe she did. Madison reached down and picked the child up, holding her close and attempting to soothe her with a mix of English and German. To her relief, Elizabeth seemed comfortable with her this morning. She even smiled, patting Madison’s cheek with a chubby little hand. That’s when Madison realized that her nightgown was growing damp.

  “Oh!” Madison held Elizabeth back to see that both of their nightgowns were soggy and smelling of urine. She wrinkled her nose. “You are wet.”

  “Wie geht’s, Anna?” Rachel yawned as she came into the room. “Wie geht’s, Elizabeth?”

  “She is wet,” Madison said.

  Rachel laughed, saying something in German slang to Elizabeth as she gingerly removed her from Madison’s arms. Setting the little girl on the floor, Rachel peeled off the soggy nightgown and tossed it toward the crib. She pointed to the pegs by Elizabeth’s bed. “You can dress her.”

  Madison nodded. Rachel padded out of the bedroom, leaving Madison to figure out how to do this. Shouldn’t the child have a bath? Would that involve heating water? Elizabeth was shivering, so Madison decided just to get some clothes on her before she developed pneumonia. After a brief struggle, Madison managed to get the child into fresh undergarments and a dress, but no shoes, before Elizabeth dashed from the room.

  “Good riddance.” Madison shut the door and looked down at her own dampened nightgown, wondering how she would get herself clean without the comfort of warm water. Seriously, how did people live like this? And why?

  She gathered up Anna’s dress, the same one she’d worn yesterday, and went down the hall to the sparse bathroom. Using a rough rag, cold water, and some soap that smelled like old tennis shoes, she attempted to clean herself and dress. She had to get out of this place—the sooner the better. If only she’d remembered to keep her phone.

  As she went back to her room, tossing the soiled nightgown next to the child’s on the floor, Madison remembered something.

  “Uncle Daniel has a phone in the barn,” Anna had told her yesterday. Was it only yesterday they’d sat in the café together?

  When Madison had asked why anyone would keep a phone in a barn, Anna had explained that it was only for farm business and emergencies.

  “Well, this is an emergency,” Madison said as she slipped her feet into Anna’s shoes. “Anna better answer the phone!”

  Madison tiptoed down the stairs, but the wooden treads creaked here and there. She hoped the sounds of the boys’ voices would camouflage her noise. It sounded like Rachel was getting them up, telling them to get dressed and get to their chores. Madison crept through the living room and peeked into the kitchen to make sure Daniel wasn’t lurking in there, but other than a big pot boiling on the cast-iron stove, the kitchen was still. She quietly opened the back door and surveyed the farm, which seemed stark and harsh in the light of day, much less romanticized than it had appeared last night in the purple dusky light. Some chickens squawked and a cow mooed, but no one seemed to be in sight.

  She looked every which way, then sprinted across the hard-packed soil to the barn. Once she was inside, hiding in the shadow between the door and a wooden wall, she could hear someone doing something up above her. The sound of footsteps and scratching sounds and loud thumps told her Daniel was probably working up there. Hopefully he’d be occupied for a while.

  She noticed an old-fashioned black phone, the kind with a curly cord, hanging on a post by a door. Did she dare do this? How could she not?

  Holding her breath, she waited, listening to the noises overhead, and finally decided that if she spoke quietly, Daniel might not even hear her. She reached for the phone, quickly dialed the numbers of her cell, and heard the rings and the sound of her own voice saying, “Hey, it’s me, you know what to do.”

  Irritated that Anna wasn’t answering, she quickly launched into a desperate message. “It’s me,” she said softly. “I’ve decided we need to switch back, Anna. Immediately. I can’t do this. I want out. I don’t want to get you in trouble, but we have to undo this. I’ll call you in about an hour if I can. You better answer then.”

  As she hung up, she realized the noises above her had stopped. Worried that Daniel had overheard her conversation, she waited, but now she heard what sounded like someone working outside. She slipped out the side door, then peeked around the corner to see not middle-aged Daniel but a much younger man doing something with hay bales on the backside of the barn.

  The shirtless man hoisted one hay bale on top of another as if it were an oversized building block. Madison gaped at his perfect abs and ripped muscles as he shoved the bale into place. His torso was tan and glistening in the sun, and with his shaggy blond hair, chiseled profile, perfect nose, full lips . . . seriously, this guy could model for the front of a romance novel.

  As if he could feel her eyes, he turned and stared back. Madison’s hand flew to her mouth and she considered running, but instead she started to giggle.

  As he reached for a light blue shirt that was lying on a nearby hay bale, he asked in German who she was.

  She paused to gather her thoughts. The sincerity in his eyes almost enticed her to say her real name, but then she remembered the switch. “Nicht Anna,” she said as she cautiously moved closer. Curious if he was as attractive up close as from a distance, she explained how her mother and Rachel were sisters. In response, he told her that Daniel was his uncle, his mother’s brother.

  For a long moment, they just stood looking at each other, transfixed. Then his slow smile revealed straight white teeth and his blue eyes sparkled in a way that told her he found her attractive too. She took in a quick breath. This guy was so good-looking! He smiled as he said something else to her, but it was like her inner translator had checked out and the words went right over her head.

  She held up her hand to stop him, brokenly explaining that English was more understandable.

  “You speak English?” he asked.

  “Yes.” She pushed a strand of hair from her face, wishing she’d taken the time to comb and pin her hair. She realized she’d forgotten her cap too, but hoped that wasn’t offensive.

  His eyes lit up. “I speak English . . . fluently.”

  “Oh, good.” She tried not to jump up and down for joy. He was fluent in English! But instead of launching into her normal speech pattern, she controlled herself. She needed to keep her character believable. “That is good. We can speak English together.”

  He nodded as he adjusted his suspenders over his shirt.

  “What is your name?” she asked.

  “Malachi Stoltzfus.” He stuck out his hand. “And you are Anna—Anna what?”

  She thought for a moment, trying to recall. “Anna Fisher,” she declared. It was weird, but as she said this, she actually wanted it to be true. Right now she wished she really was Anna Fisher.

  “Malachi!” Daniel hurried around from the other side of the barn with a severe expression, as if he were extremely displeased about something. Perhaps Madison shouldn’t have been talking to Malachi like this. She remembered Anna said the rules in this community were quite strict.

  “Wie geht’s, Uncle Daniel?” she said nervously.

  “Uncle Daniel.” Malachi’s smile faded when he saw his uncle’s grim expression. Daniel launched into what sounded like a severe scolding, pointing at the bales of hay and shaking his head. Was he complaining because
Malachi wasn’t working hard enough? Was it some unpardonable sin to take a break? What was wrong with these people anyway?

  Madison didn’t know what to do. Maybe this was her fault.

  Daniel stopped chastising Malachi and turned his attention to Madison. He pointed at her and growled something unintelligible. Then, shaking his head like she was hopeless or some kind of degenerate, he muttered something under his breath and stormed away.

  “What did he say?” she asked Malachi. “Did I get you in trouble?”

  Malachi chuckled. “No. I make my own trouble.”

  “Why?”

  “It is Sabbath,” he explained. “No work is allowed. Only daily chores.”

  “Oh.” She nodded.

  “I was meant to move this hay yesterday.” He nodded to the bales. “I forgot. So I came over this morning and then I forgot it is Sabbath.” He shrugged. “It seems I am nothing but trouble.”

  Madison was still trying to process what Daniel had said to her and why he was so angry. It couldn’t be that she was working on the Sabbath. Then she remembered how he’d pointed to her head. She reached up and remembered her cap was missing. “My cap,” she said quickly, trying to do this right, like Anna would do. “I must go to house.”

  “I will see you again?” Malachi smiled.

  She smiled back. “I hope so.”

  As if embarrassed, she turned and hurried back to the house, feeling light-headed. Malachi was an unexpected surprise. Equally surprising, he seemed to like her as much as she liked him. Perhaps she’d been too hasty in wanting to get away from this place.

  “Hello?” Rachel’s brows arched with curiosity as Madison came into the house.

  “I was outside,” Madison explained. “Fresh air.”

  Rachel nodded, then turned to stir a pot of what looked like oatmeal. “It is almost done. You can set the table now.”

  Madison tried to get the dishes and silverware in the right places, but even this task required coaching from Rachel. Meanwhile, Elizabeth was pulling pots and pans out of a cabinet. It seemed Madison’s best contribution was to keep Elizabeth out of trouble so that Rachel could finish cooking.

 

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