Double Take by Melody Carlson Page A

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—