Curtis, part twenty-one

Leta spent much of her Tuesday morning managing wet clothes and emptying pots and pails filled with leaking rainwater, for the heavy rain that started in the middle of the night continued. Fortunately, the girl fetched enough wood from the pile out back to keep the kitchen warm and cozy and stave off the damp. But Leta felt far from productive. And she had so many plans to transform the dirty, rickety house into a clean and pleasant home for her new husband and by extension his twelve children.

That he had twelve children became apparent later in the afternoon when the school bus stopped out front, and the number crammed into the house increased from four to eleven. Further, the new arrivals were all wet, mud-coated and hungry.

While Leta was arranging their coats and hats on the clotheslines she had strung throughout the kitchen, one of the girls grabbed the basket of biscuits sitting on the counter and passed them out to the others.

“Biscuits again?” one of the twins griped. “Biscuits, biscuits, all we got around here is biscuits!”

“Hush up,” one of the older girls ordered, “you know Papa don’t like backtalk.”

Still, they devoured them all, the older ones having two each. The portioning of the bread raised tempers, and they were already irritable. They began to pinch, poke and slap each other, and Leta understood that such bickering would soon escalate unless she put a stop to it.

“Here, here,” Leta said, “that’s enough of that.”

They didn’t listen at all. The four-year-old pressed against her, either out of sympathy for her plight or simply to use her as a shield for the upcoming sibling battle.

Leta gritted her teeth and raised her voice a little, “I said, that’s enough of that.”

Still, the children continued, their volume and agitation increasing.

Finally, Leta could refrain no longer. She lifted a large skillet and slammed it hard onto the stove.

“Stop it!” she ordered.

The children froze where they were and stared with gaping mouths.

“Now that I have your attention,” Leta said, “we can get some things accomplished around here.”

She couldn’t remember any of their names, so she just pointed.

“You two are now in charge of all of the leaks. I want you to empty whatever pots and pails we’re using to collect the drips into the large tub over there in the corner.”

“What do we do when we’re finished?” one questioned.

“You won’t be,” she answered.

She pointed to the second oldest girl. “You are in charge of clothes and coats.”

The girl looked at her with confusion.

“That means rinsing out the muddy clothes and hanging them on the line, taking down the dry clothes and coats and putting them away. You’re also in charge of keeping the floor clean. There’s water on the stove, but I’d put another pot on there if I were you.

“You two are in charge of fetching apples from the cellar,” she continued. Use these pots. And I don’t want you tracking mud into the kitchen, so you will stand at the back door and hand off your full pots to her, and she will dump them in the sink. I think about eight trips should do it. I’m going to be making some applesauce.

“Now, who’s left?

One boy, the oldest girl and her little guy raised their hands.

“You,” Leta said, pointing to the boy, “are in charge of gathering all the dirty dishes you can find. I’ll put some water on and then you will be washing and drying them and putting them away.”

“But that’s women’s work!” he protested.

“Ma’am,” the oldest girl added, “I can do that.”

“No,” Leta said, “I need you to help me peel the apples. I think he can manage.”

“But papa says—“ the boy began.

“—I am the boss of this kitchen,” Leta interrupted firmly, “and you will do what I say.”

Then she addressed the two youngest.

“And I have special jobs for you,” she said. “We are going to have lots of apple peelings that need to be taken from the sink and put into that pail over there. Do you think you can manage?”

They nodded.

“Can’t I have a man’s job?” the disgruntled boy mumbled.

Leta ignored him. “We all have our jobs. Now let’s get to work.”

To be continued.