Trading Secrets by Melody Carlson Page A

it’s been choreographed.
    â€œI know some of your clothes are still on the line and wet,” Katy tells me as she fastens Sarah’s white kapp into place, straightening the strings alongside her chin in a maternal way. “And I put your other dirty things from last night in Mamm’s wash basket for today.”
    â€œThank you,” I say sleepily.
    â€œSo I thought you probably have no dry clothes to put on. That’s why I set out some of my things for you to wear.” Katy points to a teal blue dress and some other things lying overthe foot of my bed. “Unless you want to wear man clothes again.” She giggles. “Then you’ll have to borrow something from Zach.”
    â€œDo you always wear man clothes?” Ruth asks me with wide eyes.
    â€œNo,” I mumble. “Not really.”
    â€œZach’s clothes would be too big for her.” Ruth states this in a way that makes her sound older than just ten. “You should wear Katy’s things, Micah. You’re about the same size anyway.”
    With Ruth watching and making her wry little comments, Katy and Sarah help me get dressed. I’m embarrassed to admit that I do need help. First there are these funny old-fashioned undergarments, followed by the loose-fitting dress that has no buttons or zippers to keep it closed. Instead, the girls show me how to use straight pins to hold it together. I don’t say what I’m thinking, but really, this seems odd. Who decided straight pins were the correct way to fasten your clothes—and why? It all seems pretty complicated to me, especially for people who admire simplicity.
    â€œYou always pin your clothes together like this?” I ask Katy as she’s finishing up. “Or is it just because this dress is unfinished or something?”
    â€œThis is how we always dress,” Katy assures me as she secures the last pin. “We have our reasons.”
    â€œIs it religious?” I ask curiously.
    â€œI can’t explain it all right now.” Katy turns around to help Ruth braid her hair, as Sarah pulls on her long black stockings. With Ruth’s braid finished and pinned tightly to the back of her head, Katy secures her white kapp snugly into place with more pins.
    â€œDo I wear a kapp too?” I ask Katy. I’m kind of getting into this now. It’s like wearing a costume. It might be fun to parade about like an Amish girl for one day. At least until my own clothes are ready to wear.
    â€œNo, Micah. There’s no reason for a kapp ,” Katy tells me.
    â€œWhy not?” Ruth asks her big sister.
    â€œShe is not really Amish,” Katy says.
    â€œA woman is not supposed to go out with her head uncovered,” Ruth points out to her sister.
    â€œOr with her hair down,” Katy adds. The youngest sister is studying me now, almost as if she doesn’t quite know what to make of me. I’m sure I’m an amusement to all three of them.
    â€œHow about if I put my hair in a braid,” I suggest. “I sometimes do that at home.”
    â€œ Ja , that would be good, I think,” Sarah says with childlike authority.
    â€œMamm will appreciate it.” Katy gives Ruth a gentle shove toward the door. “Time to do chores. The chickens are hungry.”
    â€œBreakfast is at 7:00,” Sarah informs me.
    â€œDon’t be late,” Ruth warns.
    Suddenly the three girls are gone and the room is quiet. For some reason, the image of Zach’s sisters getting ready for the day reminded me of a scene from Fiddler on the Roof . Lizzie and I had small parts in the musical last year, so I know it pretty well. As I finish getting dressed, pulling on the black stockings, the “Matchmaker” song starts going through my head. I tie my athletic shoes, which look slightly out of place with my old-fashioned outfit, deciding that the Miller family isn’t so unlike Tevye’s. It’s as if the Amish are