SHOULD HAVE LAID LOWER
"He's asking about you."
Who's asking about me? I'm new and blessedly anonymous here. Kept my head down. I continued with the potatoes at the sink. All anyone ever saw was the back of my gray-smock.
"Matron told me," the other trainee had said. "Bloody gaslighters. He'd been in her office. The two came out, she came to me and said, 'What do you know about Rita?'" She knew nothing about me! But she continued kibitzing, "I asked her who the guy had been in the office, and got a whack for my trouble. 'Keep your inquiries to yourself,' she'd said. Then, after telling me to mind my business, she asked about you. That's gaslighting."
One of the few times I'd said anything to anyone there, I asked what she'd told the matron.
"I told her you were a decent cook. You keep to yourself. You could clean. Obsessive. Annoyingly clean. But, you don't gossip." Heavens, all I'd done that past week was work on potatoes! How on earth would she know I could cook? Or refrain from gossip?
"He's going to want to talk to you, that's what the matron said. So take care of yourself." Said this guy had been in the war out West and had distinguished himself there. She said it was strange that this hero was now, essentially, "a grunt". Out West he'd been giving orders. Here, he was taking them.
Another of the women there at the domestic's centre had heard a rumour that this guy was tied-in with one of the big Commanders, someone I'd never heard of: Commander Pryce. A big cheese. That rumour could not have been true, she'd continued. Why would a guy with connections like that be a guardian at a holding centre?
Guardians from all over came there twice a day for meals. Even Guardians gossiped at the tables. We spent either the morning or the afternoon working on various menus, and there needed to be someone to order and sample them. We were rated. There was a mock livingroom, as well as sitting rooms that the Guardians would sit in (waiting for meals). We were invisible waiting on them, and, yes, they kibitzed among themselves. They'd be encouraged to mess up the rooms. Yes, you guessed it, we cleaned them. We were rated.
Then I got called away from the sink by the matron. Behind her a Guardian, that small one, Nick, from the holding centre. He'd been in the boss's office when I'd messed myself. Eyes down, hands neatly folded in front of me, I went with them. I hoped meekness would spare me.
We sat at the far end of one of the long tables by the far wall, just me and him. We were not totally alone, we were visible to everyone else at the other end of the dining area plus the kitchen. Oh yes, the matron was also standing about 15 feet from us. But the good news, so far I'd not been taken away.
INTERVIEW WITH MICK
"Hey, remember me? I'm 'Nick'?" I said nothing in return so he continued.
"You're Rita." Yes I knew that. He apologized for what had gone on back at the holding centre. Told me that he, personally, did not approve of all that went on. A lot of it was too far. "It's not really well organized," he'd said.
Why was he telling me this? Was he baiting? "Look, let's cut to it - I'm being reassigned." I thought, you know I don't know you, right? He said, "You can speak, you know." He waited for me to say something, but I was frozen. "Look, I get it. Tell you what: I've got the paperwork here, but I'm going to leave it to you. You decide. I'll have eaten in about an hour, and if the Matron takes you to my SUV outside, I'll know we're on. You'll be a Martha to The Waterfords. They're my new assignment. Actually, you'll be working for the Martha already there. Sarah."
He giggled a wry giggle, "Once you meet her, it'll be interesting to hear if you think I've done you a favour."
"You want to know more? I'll see you in the SUV."
When he stood, I stood. He then walked away. I froze. Then I felt the matron's shove, back towards the kitchen and my potatoes. "Don't look a gift horse in the mouth, dearie," was what she said.
After dinner, I was cleaning up. The matron came in.
"Rita, go get your things."
What? There were not a lot of "things" of my own to collect. Good thing, too. I'd not said anything. "Stop by the quartermaster on your way out." At the quartermaster's, I was given a large duffle-bag, as well as a thick full-length dress-bag, with six hangars sticking out the top. All she said in handing me that heavy, double bundle was, "Four work-Marthas, two dress-Marthas. Don't ask for any more." From that point onwards, I was told, my supplies were the responsibility of my Commander. I tried to pick them up, but I wasn't prepared for their weight.
Outside, Nick saw me coming, jumped out of the driver's side, grabbed my "things" and put them neatly in the back. "I'm glad you agreed to come. You won't regret it. With Sarah, keep your head down. You'll be fine. We have one stop before the Waterfords."
It's pitiful to say it, but riding in the back of an expensive car relaxed me. The vista of the city outside was only the second time since my…. 'arrest'? Was it an 'arrest? Nevermind, only the second time that I had time just to sit and survey the urban surroundings. Boston was not as busy as I'd have expected.
Nick knew what he was doing. The first armed check-point I'd not been sure. At them he'd always roll down the window beside my seat. Some teen-aged, uniformed boy with a gun would look at me. Then slap the roof of the SUV, and say, "You're good."
We'd made it downtown. We were now parked outside what must have been one of the few working hotels in the city. I thought they'd all been repurposed. Nick had been gone more than half an hour. Truly, this was the first time in 'forever' that I'd been alone, by myself. Then he and a woman in Martha-issue came out a service door, walked to the car both laden with boxes of various sizes. He pulled out my things, packed in the boxes, then laid my things gently on top.
The woman came to my window and signaled for me to roll it down. I looked at Nick who was getting in the driver's side. He said, "Beth wants to meet you."
I rolled down the window. "So you're the puppy Nick has adopted. You must have been a sad little thing, Nick's such sucker." The woman sighed, "Don't worry, honey, he won't lay a hand on you. Much to my grief, he's not touched me either, not once. Bugger. Have fun!"
Nick drove away as I put the window back up. He wanted me to talk, so I talked.
I stifled a yell by clenching, "What as that all about? Who was that?" He told me he listened to Beth. Beth, "ran things". He smiled when he said, "She's also a trouble maker. Mostly, it's good trouble."
I repeated, "You're adopting me? Listen, what's this about?" We had to stop at another checkpoint. Nick continued with that ease, even at those places. He told me that he'd been in the room back at the holding centre, he'd been there when I'd messed myself. "Out at the front, guys did that all the time. Truth be told…. well, I don't know you that well, so you don't need to know. I just felt for you. There's too much of that stuff at that place. So when Pryce reassigned me, I thought you needed a break."
Pryce? Weren't we going to the Waterfords? So it was true, Nick knew the legendary Commander Pryce!
"I've done some driving for Commander Waterford. Been over there 100s of times. Now it's permanent. For us both. It wasn't hard to convince either Sarah or Mrs. Waterford. One Martha makes the house look pious and frugal. Two or more means upward mobility, and bragging rights at the Wives' Teas. Makes the Commander look, well, like a Commander to have a permanent driver and this own car. Especially one with Guardian training, and who's served."
THEY REALLY DO THIS
I still didn't know why Nick was doing this for me. According to Beth, whoever she was, it's not for sex. Another panic was coming on.
When the panic was finished, I'd not realized I'd even exited the car. I found myself standing at a mansion's parking pad, in front of an older, matronly woman in Martha-issue. She said, "Is that clear?" It must have been the look on my face, because she repeated, "Is that clear!"
Was what clear? I did not know what I was answering to; Nick piped in, "I told her everything in the car. The kitchen is yours, she does what she's told. Everything else, she asks." Nick ushered me inside, showed me the closet into which I was to put my things. He must have seen the look on my face, because he said, "Ok, it's small, but it's yours. You'll be able to sleep under where the clothes hang."
The next day, I was presented to Mrs. Waterford. Tall, slim, hair tightly and severely pulled back. Knitting. She did not raise her eyes to me, and neither did I raise mine to hers. The only words I recognized were, "just stay out of my way." It was all of a minute.
A week later, I met The Commander. He arrived, driven by Nick, with a young woman wearing a red cape.
That night, me, Nick, and Sarah were called into the study. By the fireplace, the woman in the red-robe was now kneeling on a red pillow that Sarah had set out. (Nick whispered to me, "Pay attention, one day you'll have to do this.")
The Commander and a sobbing Mrs. Waterford came in. She said through her tears, "Let's get this over with." The Commander pulled out a Bible, read from Genesis, mumbled it really. "And she said, Behold my maid Bilhah, go in unto her; and she shall bear upon my knees, that I may also have children by her."
WTF!? Sarah and Nick looked almost bored by this. Mrs. Waterford shifted to anger and humiliation. The Commander provided the piety in the room. I never did see the face of the woman kneeling.
I'd heard of Handmaids, but it was bizarre to see The Ceremony. Did they really do this? It was hard to fathom that it was real. The Commander and his wife went upstairs with the Handmaid, Nick went outside, and Sarah and I returned to the kitchen. Sarah complained, "It's impossible to cook here when you get called away. Like that. They'll be late again to the table. Last time Mrs Waterford and the girl never came. There's so much waste here."
That was it. Where was I? Where had Nick brought me?
Next day? Mrs Waterford came into the kitchen, opened a few cupboards, turned and socked Sarah. Not a warning, just a punch. I'd seen my father once punch a guy. I had been little. It was a good one. Not a girl-punch, it was like a hockey game. In the face. Mrs Waterford knew what she was doing. Mrs Waterford stormed out. I went over to Sarah, she cursed at me. "Get away. Do your chores or you'll get one."
Where was I? Where had Nick brought me?
