The morning of the Rachel and Leah dedication was a busy one. The day before, the Handmaids had done a mock run-through of their part of the program. In the gymnasium, the cots had been pushed to the walls, and junior Aunts had mapped out on floor with tape where everyone would stand at the Rachel and Leah Centre, and how they would move. Handmaids were good at these synchronized dances.
New Handmaid capes and wings had been handed out as the girls gathered that morning. Even their boots had an immodest spectacular shine to them. Each was told which Red Centre van they'd been assigned. All the vans had been detailed the night before and were spotless. It reminded me of one of the campaign stops my senator, back in the old times, had made. Back then a snafu had meant she was going to be speaking, essentially, to an empty auditorium. We needed to round up 200 supporters to fill it toot sweet.
So that morning I called a local union hall. The local leadership supported the senator. They had about 100 people in the hall ready to be assigned work, but because it was later in the morning the hall was going to just send them home.
"No!" I told the local president, "tell them there's $50 in it for each of them, if they can just sit tight and wait for some vans." I had no idea at that time where I was going to get vans. But 100 people was also not enough. The senator could not be seen speaking to a half-empty hall. So I risked, "Say, can you guys wildcat? Pull another 100 from their work? I need 200 people in total?"
The local president said, "What's in it for us?" I offered him an hour alone with the senator before she flew back to Washington. He said, "Done. Have your vans here in an hour. I'll have 200 people for you. But the people I pull from work will have to be compensated for their lost pay." $5,000 cash for those going home, was now going to be triple. Or more. If I could get to a branch of my bank, I could probably get $20,000. In fifties.
I had no idea how I was going to get reimbursed to replace that money of mine. But this was the kind of thing Bobby Kenndy had done for his brother, Jack. Then again, the Kennedy's had been rich. None of this had been done with the permission of the senator, which is probably just as well. If it ever got out, I could be fired with no harm to her. The logic of these things meant I would have to be sacrificed if this got out. But all that was for later. I pulled out my Visa card and lucked out on my first call to a van-rental. The rental company guy drove one van over to the hall (that cost me $100 tucked tidily into his fist) to get the union-drivers. Right on time fifteen 14-passenger vans showed up at the union hall, the senator had a full hall of adoring supporters, 100 people got a paid-day off, another hundred took home $50 and later that local union president had one hour alone with the senator. Oh yes, the rental guy scored two crisp Ulysses Grants, and the TV News soundbites were great. Not knowing the underlying theatrics for the day, afterwards the senator had asked me, "What was that about? How'd he get an hour with me?" I told her, "Don't ask." So she didn't.
I eventually got reimbursed. My only gripe was that I'd paid from my own pocket for 10 empty seats on those vans. Fifteen times fourteen is two hundred ten. There could have been 10 more people at the senator's rally, if I truly had this planned right! I beat myself up for that.
Which is a long way to go to come back to that morning of the Rachel and Leah Centre opening here in Gilead. A quick calculation of the number of handmaids going, combined with the number of available vans times the number in each van - long story short, that left one van virtually empty. And yes, I had factored in the escorting Aunts.
Checking my list, I did not see Aunt Lydia's name. Mine was there, Vidala's was there, as was Helena's. This morning of all mornings, it was all hands on deck. Lydia must be going by some other means. No matter, there's just too much to do to obsess about trivial things. Meaning, I feared I was making the same mistake twice.
It nagged at me. True, these Red Centre vans were not summoned by my personal Visa card, so I did not have a dog in this hunt. It just bugged me. From the distance I was at, I could see the vans as they were being loaded. The van assigned to me had it's rear doors open, well-dressed Handmaids packed inside waiting for me to quit obsessing, and squeeze into the lone remaining seat. But, dammit, there was one less van here than we had summoned! I yelled to the driver of my van to wait, I wanted to go back into the Red Centre building to see what my file had said. I'd only be a minute.
In my office, I could see from my window what the problem was. The missing van was in the inner courtyard, not out front. Lydia was leading Ofglen to its rear door, the mute Ofglen. They were accompanied by an unarmed Guardian. The Guardian took Ofglen's wrist and seemed to be fiddling with something in her hand. From the looks of it, she was its sole occupant, because when Ofglen got in, Lydia just closed the door and the Guardian got into the driver's side, while Lydia returned to the building.
I hustled back out to the lone remaining van out front, mine, and we took off quickly catching up to the caravan of handmaids. My van had been at the rear of the procession out of order, or so I thought. The last remaining van pulled in behind us. I'd bet all the money in my pockets that that was the van with only the mute Ofglen in it, if I had pockets. I made a note to raise this wastefulness with Lydia when we got back.
The rest is history. Explosions and death. Suffice it to say that the new Rachel and Leah Centre was not to be, and the Former University Compound, aka. Harvard Yard, became where we, the Founders, were to establish Ardua Hall. Lydia was the first to have a statue of her erected there. More importantly, in Ardua Hall's nooks and crannies, Gilead's most secret secrets were hidden in places accessible only to Aunts.
And not just any Aunts. I mean, those secrets had not been accessible to me, and I was a Founder!
It was dangerous what I had seen. In another person's hands, seeing Lydia load Ofglen into an empty van would have been a power card to play in this place. But sensing that even I, a senator's aide, was out of this league, I just never mentioned it.