The two waited, their sacks poised. The weight pulled them perilously close to the edge of the gable and they teetered anxiously, poised on the edge of the slanting roof above the porch.
"Here he comes," Joe whispered mischievously. "Get ready."
"I wish he'd hurry up. My arms are falling off. And I've got a crick in my neck."
"Quit moaning, will yer? It'll be worth it just to see his face."
"I'm nearly falling off," she said, wobbling precariously.
He grabbed the back of her shirt. "Twist around," he murmured. They maneuvered so they were lying along the edge. They had to turn their heads to the left to see below.
Their heads were still slightly lower than their feet as they lay on their stomachs waiting.
"Hurry up!" Scamp muttered.
They heard the door open and craned their necks as they looked down. Hoss passed beneath them.
"Ready?" Joe hissed.
"Yup."
"Now!"
They shook the sacks upside down and a thick shower of white powder fell onto Hoss's head underneath. But to their horror their brother was not alone and as they scrabbled to right themselves, their father's roar split the air.
"MARIE! JOSEPH! GET DOWN FROM THERE! NOW!"
"Uh-oh," Joe muttered.
"Oh, heck, it's Pa!"
"BLASTED KIDS!" Hoss bellowed.
Father and son stood like two powdery ghosts, glaring upwards as the twins hung from the gable, dangling their feet in the air. Ben first put his arm around their legs, then their waists, edging them down so they would not topple over, before lowering them to their feet.
"You naughty, NAUGHTY children!" Ben cried, giving them a little shake. "I'm gonna skin you alive for this!"
"Sorry, Pa, it was only a joke," said Joe.
"A joke?!...I ought to...You could've killed yourselves! Go to your room! This minute!"
"But, Pa - " Scamp started.
"Now!" he shouted, smacking their rears. They dashed away. "You're going to get a good talking-to!" he added as they thundered up the stairs.
They threw themselves onto Joe's bed. They laughed when they thought of Hoss's face but their father's expression had sobered them up.
"He's gonna tan our hides," Scamp said glumly.
They had never been severely spanked before, apart from single swats on the behind, but they had sometimes been threatened when they had been very bad. They stared at each other in alarm. They both hoped it was merely a threat, but they had the feeling their father was serious this time.
"Yeah."
"Why did he have to come along just at the wrong moment?"
"Dunno." Joe chortled. "Did you see their faces?"
"They got drenched, didn't they?"
The little cook had scuttled in from the kitchen when he heard the uproar.
Hop Sing stared at them in astonishment. "What...what you do, Mr Ben, Mr Hoss? What happen?"
"You mean, who happened?"
"Little Joe. Scamp."
"Yes. Only they won't be laughing shortly. They'll both be feeling as if they've sat down on a red hot stove for the rest of the day!"
"Don't be too hard on them, Pa," Hoss said, brushing himself and sending another cloud of flour to the floor.
"They've cooked their goose this time, Hoss! They steal about a ton of flour - "
"That flour?! That my flour?"
"Yes, Hop Sing, that is your flour." He put his hands in placation as Hop Sing began his tirade. "And it's everywhere! All on the porch, on the floor...Added to that, they nearly killed themselves by lying upside down on the roof!" He was drowned out by deafening Cantonese. "Please, Hop Sing! Please! English!"
"I...I..." Hop Sing spluttered, "...I work all day. No time for such foolishness! I can't - "
"Hop Sing!"
"Hop Sing quit! He quit now!" He started to take off his apron.
"Hop Sing! Hop SING, stop!" Ben took his hands and held him still. "Now, listen. Calm down and listen! The children will wash our clothes and clean the floor. And if they don't do it properly you have my permission to drum a tattoo on their little backsides with that spoon of yours. They're going to get a dang good hiding as it is. Now, we need some brushes and hot water to wash our hair. Those dratted kids!"
Despite their best efforts, the twins' high spirits were dashed somewhat as they waited for their doom. They heard the shouting and gazed at each other, perturbed. The door crashed open and Ben appeared, like a wraith, caked with powder from his head to his feet. His jet back eyes pierced the white on his face. He looked so comical that they could not help giggling, despite their predicament.
"Still laughing, are you? I suppose you think you're hilarious, right?"
"Sorry, Pa."
"You kids are in so much trouble!"
"We're sorry, Pa," said Joe, "it was only a prank."
"Only a prank? Well, this is only a spanking!"
He put him over his knee and spanked him until he screamed. Joe struggled and tried to get his hand behind him.
"Not...laughing...now...are you?"
"Ow, ow, Pa, stop!"
"I'll stop when I'm good and ready, young man!" Ben cried, slapping his legs even harder, so the blows could have been heard a mile away, "and not before!"
"OWWW! STOP! OWW! PA!"
To which Ben merely spanked him harder.
Joe threw himself on the bed, shrieking and sobbing in a paroxysm of grief. Ben grabbed Scamp and her cries soon mingled with her brother's.
"Darn kids!" Ben repeated, waggling his stinging hand. He stamped out and slammed the door. A thick white trail followed him across the floor and the twins were covered in flour from their father's pants.
They cried themselves into a headache and lay, speechless. After an eternity Scamp moved in Joe's embrace and immediately burst into tears again.
"OWW!"
"Don't move, Scamp."
"Why does he have to do it so dang hard?!" she sobbed.
"I dunno."
She flopped her head back down onto the pillow and they stared into each other's eyes as they always did when they were in trouble. "Doggone Pa!"
He stroked her face and his tenderness made her cry more. Their heads were so close together they could feel each other's tears. They half dozed for a while, their cheeks nestled together, after which he summoned up his courage and worked himself slowly to his feet.
"Aahh! My backside is burning!" he wept.
"So's mine." She paused. "I feel sick."
He rubbed her back gently with his fist. "Do you think we're allowed down yet?"
"Dunno. How long's it been?"
"Dunno. I'm hungry, though."
They forlornly stood by the window.
"I wanna go down."
"So do I," said Joe.
Knowing their disgrace they stayed on the bed, every now and then crying with pain and humiliation, but it was a long time before Ben opened the door. They heard running footsteps, banging, shouting, curses. For a while they were afraid someone else would come in and wallop them again. When Ben eventually did come, he had changed his clothes but still had faint streaks of white in his hair. They no longer felt like laughing. He paused, looking down at them, as always wondering how such angelic faces could hide such impishness.
"Alright, you two, get up. What have you got to say for yourselves?"
"Nothing, Pa."
"I suppose you thought it was very funny, huh?"
"Yes, sir."
"But not so funny when I scorched your bottoms?"
"No, sir," said Joe, rubbing his face with the back of his hands. The childish, innocent gesture made Ben's heart hurt.
"We got a real dose of hot-bottom-itis, didn't we?"
"Well, I reckon you needed it. We've had to change our clothes and wash our hair. I'd be extra nice to Hoss if I were you, and as for Hop Sing...well, you'd better just avoid him altogether. You've made a lot of extra work for him."
"Sorry, Pa."
"Scamp, Joe, listen to me. You know why I spanked you, don't you?"
"Yes, sir," said Scamp. " 'Cos we played a trick."
He shook his head. "No. Not really...or only partly. I might have given you a few swats for that but what I'm really angry about is the danger you put yourselves in. What really made me scald your hides was you lying on the roof upside down. If you'd fallen you'd have landed on your heads and killed yourselves. Because I'd rather you have a sore bottom than a broken neck."
"Yes, sir."
"Promise me you'll never do that again."
"Yes, sir."
"Say it. Say 'we promise'."
"We promise."
"I'll expect you to keep that promise, hear?"
"Yes, sir."
"Alright. Go down."
They followed him to the living room and Hoss glared at them. "Ah, here they are, the two jokers. You pull a stunt like that again, you little demons, I'll stretch yer lugholes for yer, hear me?"
"Yes, Hoss."
There was a scurry from across the room and in a flash Hop Sing had seized them by the scruff of their necks. "Bad chillen! Wicked chillen! Hop Sing work all day and then wash clothes, heat water, steal my flour! Hop Sing no have time – cooking! He smack you with wooden spoon!" He waved it over their heads as they squirmed.
"You'll have to get in line," said Hoss. "You can have it after me. Which is exactly what I'll do if you try something like that again!" He swatted their heads with Ben's paper.
"Everyone wants to tan us," Joe moaned.
"Can you blame them?" their father asked. "I think you owe Hop Sing an apology, don't you?"
"Sorry, Hop Sing."
"And Hoss."
"Sorry, Hoss."
"And me."
"Sorry, Pa."
"Now you sweep the floor and the porch. Then you go off and help him with those clothes." He grimaced as they began to complain. "You dirtied them, you can clean them."
"But, Pa, our butts are killing us!" cried Joe, starting to grizzle.
"You deserved it. If you mess something up, you put it right again. Look, Hop Sing's got enough to do and it's not his job to wait on you hand and foot. And you'd better do a good job or I'll fetch Hoss and Hop Sing that wooden spoon myself."
They watched them as they worked; the brooms and mops were taller than they were. It hurt Ben to be so strict with them but he felt it was the only way they would learn. Hop Sing showed them how to mop; they only complained and pouted once or twice. Ben told them they would get another talking-to if they persisted and so they were quiet. Afterwards Hop Sing hustled them through, none too gently, and pushed them into the small laundry yard behind the kitchen.
"They soak in lye. You scrub. There brush, there mangle, there dolly. You scrub and you soak. You play and I spank. Huh!" The rest of his scolding was in rapid Cantonese and the children rolled their eyes, only to receive a light but sharp tap with the spoon.
"OW!" They both started to cry again, rubbing their scalded legs.
"Hey, what was that for?" Joe wept indignantly.
"Yeah, Hop Sing, we've already been spanked," Scamp sobbed. "We don't need another one!"
"Huh!"
"But...but..." Scamp looked at the tubs, her eyes round. "How do you do it?"
"Easy. Watch." He demonstrated. "Now you get on or Hop Sing spank with spoon!"
"I reckon he would n'all."
"Doggone Hop Sing," Scamp sniffled as they turned to the washing tubs. "Anyone'd think he was Pa."
"He's worse than Pa. He shouldn't do it."
"Why don't you tell Pa about it?"
They giggled through their tears.
"The last time I told him he said he'd give me another one if I tried to sneak on Hop Sing again. And harder."
"They're in cahoots."
"On who can whack us the hardest."
"Oh, Pa does. Only he doesn't use that spoon. And I'm glad of it."
Joe clicked his tongue and did not reply for a while. As they rubbed, their hands started to shrivel. "Look at my fingers! I've got blisters!"
They inspected their hands and the sores developing on their knuckles.
"Doggone Pa! I bet no-one else has to do this."
"Especially boys. Ow! Doggone it, Scamp, I've got enough pain!" He glared at her and rubbed his arm where her fist had caught him.
"You think because I'm a girl I should do it and you shouldn't?"
"That's not what I said! But it is ladies' work, isn't it? Don't you dare! I'll hit you back!"
It was not fear of him that made her stay her hand but the knowledge that they were on thin ice and were likely to receive further punishment if they started fighting in the dirt. They felt as if they had had enough for one day. Hop Sing came out and peered suspiciously at what they had done.
"You scrub?"
"Yes, we scrubbed," Scamp answered wearily.
"Then you put back in to soak."
"Can we go now?"
"Hm. But you take out after supper and hang. Supper almost ready."
They went back inside. It had been several hours and although they were still sore, they were able to sit down, if a little gingerly. Adam had returned and was playing chess with Hoss.
"How do you like your new career as laundry maids?" Adam asked amiably.
"Shurrup."
"Don't tease them, Adam," said Hoss. He moved his queen. "Check."
"Why not? It's our duty to tease them."
"I wish you'd shut up, Adam," said Scamp. "You're giving me a headache."
"You've been giving me a headache for the last seven years."
"Oh, you're so funny. You ought to take to the stage."
"I think so."
"OK, enough of this nonsense. Adam, stop tormenting them."
"As I said, Pa," Adam shrugged. "Our duty."
"Did you two help Hop Sing?"
"Yes, sir," said Joe, "like two old washerwomen."
"Good, good. I hope it'll teach you never to do such a stupid thing again."
"Yeah, sure did," said Scamp, rubbing her bottom. "It still stings."
"Well, I'm sorry I had to do it. But it's the only way to get through to those thick heads of yours sometimes. You could have broken your necks."
"Getting through to their heads through their tails," Hoss laughed.
"Well, quite."
"We didn't mean no harm."
"Unlike the English language, Little Joe," said Adam. "You mean plenty of harm to that."
Joe scoffed. "Oh, don't start that again!"
"It's hard to remember you're my brother sometimes."
"What about Hoss?"
"Well, him, too."
Scamp marched around the table comically in time to her words. "Well, we can't all speak lah-di-dah and oh-ever-so-Eastern and cultured as our august brother there." She bowed majestically. "Monsieur Adam Cartwright."
"Please pass the cucumber sandwiches, Miss Cartwright, ma'am," said Joe.
"Oh, of course, Master Cartwright, sir!" Ben and Hoss guffawed and Adam flung his king in their direction which struck Scamp just above her ear. "Ow!"
"Does that mean you've resigned?"
"Yes, Hoss," Ben grinned. "I rather think it does."