HOMEWORK
Emily was getting on with her life. Still not right with Syl or Oliver, though. That one still was strange, but we all operated on our own speed. She was throwing herself into the Refugee Aid Foundation of Canada, Moira's group. All of the post-Angel's Flight stuff was ongoing.
Moira? She was tight with a woman named Oona, herself the director of the Commission for Emergency Relief Aid. Dangerous work in danger zones, as such Moira had agreed to go to Chicago with Oona on the CERA ship with supplies.
Me? My homework? Far more pedestrian. Inner torments.
This. What you are reading, this is my homework. My therapist called it harder than what any of Emily, Syl, Moira or Oona were dealing with.
Mrs. Waterford. She was my homework. The therapist said that if it worked out with The Missus, that I was to go see Commander Waterford in the ITWC lock-up. My therapist, methinks she got it the wrong way around.
THE HELLO
Warden: Ok, I'll call her in. -Upon returning- Ok, Mrs. Waterford, you know Ms. Blue? Ms. Blue if you'd take a chair over there. Mrs Waterford, Ms. Blue: Officer West will stay for the course of the conversation you wish to have. For as long as it takes. If you go long, Officer West will enjoy the overtime pay.
Waterford: Hello Rita.
Blue: Hello Mrs. Waterford.
Waterford: Please, call me Serena Joy. Or Serena.
Blue: Ok. -pause, nervously- Serena.
Warden: I'll take my leave of you, leave you in the officer's hands. At the end, Officer West will page another duty officer to escort Ms. Blue and her support person to the parking lot, and Officer West will take Mrs Waterford back to her unit.
Waterford: 'Blue'. My apologies, Rita, I'd never known your surname! How silly of me. -pause- I haven't seen you since the trial.
Blue: Nor me, you. -long silence- The court has yet to lift the publication ban, so all I know is that they've recommended charges be laid.
Waterford: I wish we'd had an opportunity to chat before it all.
Blue: -long silence- They told me that that would have been difficult, and probably was not possible until now, Mrs… Serena.
Waterford: Lawyers.
Blue: I've been happy with mine.
Waterford: You had a lawyer? What on earth did you need a lawyer for?
Blue: -rises from her seat, goes over to Officer West, who in turn opens the door and addresses someone in the hall. A few minutes later, closing the door, West escorts Blue back to her seat.-
Ya, I was given a lawyer. Mainly to have the process explained to me. At no time was I in any trouble, but apparently Gilead had also accused me of all sorts of things since my arrival here. In Canada. So I was told I needed a lawyer. At one point someone suggested that I could have been subject to extradition back to Boston - I would have been on the wall for sure. Gilead would have made sure of that. My lawyer arranged sureties that I was safe from your State.
Waterford: Not 'my State', let's be clear about that. -silence- Well, aside from the outcome, I've been happy with my lawyer. -pause- I really do like your hair, Rita. It's long. I've never seen it like that. We were together in the house for, what was it, four years? I must say, I preferred you over Sarah, that was clear. Your hair has a bit of colour in it. And those boots!
Blue: Neither are Martha-issue, ma'am.
Waterford: No they're not.
Blue: -silence, Blue glances back at Officer West- I must say, you look great in something other than blue, ma'am. Pants suit you.
Waterford: And you'll be pleased to know that I have to take care of my own clothes. -silence- Rita, I have some wonderful news. God is good…..
THE PAST IS BURIED IN THE PRESENT
Truly, it was all I could do to stay. So much of 'way-back-when' was welling up with me. So much so that it was difficult to even be in the room with her. Even with her as the prisoner and me, free to go.
After she declared the goodness of God, she reached forward to hand me an ultrasound photo. All pretense of 'Serena the head of the household' was gone. As I stared at the ultrasound she morphed into 'Serena the Sorority girl', giggling with me as if I'd been her BFF.
My mind was freezing. All the automatic responses I had memorized and honed in the Waterford household were no good there. My panic? If I started putting words wrong here, would I survive? (Of course I would, so said the therapist. This had been Serena's jail, not mine. Shows you what therapists know about Gilead.)
After Serena's smile beamed the, "God, is good," all I could manage was, "In his name….." letting my voice trail off, lest it betray that we were now in Toronto, not Boston.
THE ROYAL US
Blue: All of us could use some good news, Mrs. Waterford.
Waterford: -beaming- I'm pregnant, Rita! Me. God has graced us with a child! -tears, clutching her belly-
Blue: Oh, praise be, ma'am. Wow.
Waterford: I want you to be part of it, Rita, I really do. I want what you and I had in New Gilead. You were so good with Nichole, I want you part of this. -passing an ultrasound-envelope to Rita- Hang on to that! Can you believe it's real?
Blue: I don't know what to say, ma'am. God is, indeed, good.
Waterford: I'm looking forward to getting to know you better. We knew each other in Gilead, worked well together there, shared a house. Raised a baby. I'm appreciating that being here in Canada is like another universe. Especially behind bars!
Blue: -silence- I have a boyfriend. -silence- At my age. His name is Mark.
Waterford: That's wonderful. Is it serious?
WORD IN EDGEWISE
Serena had said, 'That's wonderful' as flatly as she could, reminiscent of the times I'd served her tea and it wasn't to her satisfaction. My tea had rarely been to her liking, but she was too impatient to wait another 20 minutes for another pot to brew. Me, I never learned. Why? It was not something she'd ever have hit me for.
What was plain, according to the therapist, was that Serena was totally uninterested in 'Mark'. Not even that he shared a first name with Mark Tuello, the American consulate guy. Serena listened politely to my description of my Mark, who I'd been set up with by my lawyer and his wife. It had not even been subtle.
Mark would cook, Mark would clean. How on earth was I to explain to Serena that after Gilead, having a man do those things for me was a source of panic? That he'd never done any of those things to Serena's liking, not that she'd ever met him!
TURNING ON A DIME
Blue: Well, he's Canadian. As you know, I haven't exactly 'been in circulation' for a long, long time. But Mark is nice. He takes it slow. He looks after me, knows what I've been through. He speaks French. From Montreal. But he's an Anglophone, as they say. He cooks. He cleans. -said awkwardly- I've got nothing to do when I'm at his place.
Waterford: That's great. -silence- What you've 'been through'? Is that what you call it? You've not been in prison, Rita. Look, I'd like to hear more of your story since we last saw each other, I do. I was as much a victim of Gilead as you…..
Blue: Oh, Mrs Waterford, please forgive me. I was going crazy. I didn't mean those things at trial. Please forgive me. Please, please.
Waterford: Rita, what's the matter with you?
Blue: -crying- Get away from me, don't touch me.
Waterford: Get a grip, Rita, I'm nowhere near you.
Blue: -turns to Officer West- I need to go. Please get me out of here.
-door opens, Rita stands out in the hall speaking to an unnamed person-
Unnamed: Ms. Blue, are you ok?
Blue: I told you I couldn't do this. She knows people. I'm not safe.
Unnamed: Ms. Blue, just take a few breaths, ok. Just concentrate on these surroundings. This is her prison, not yours.
Blue: But you don't know what she can do. She'll get away with it, too.
Unnamed: Breathe, Ms Blue, breathe. Just look at me.
Officer West (closing door, then to Waterford): Mrs. Waterford, I don't know what happens from this point on. If Ms. Blue does not return, your lawyer isn't expected for some while. I may just take you back to your unit.
Waterford: What's going on? I'm the one in prison. These people are unstable. Unbelievable. I offer her a place in the one good thing which could happen, and she goes to pieces. Ungrateful and unstable, and they turn on you on a dime. -sitting impatiently- This is ludicrous. I'm doing this for her, not to her. She has an opportunity to be with another baby!
THE COMMANDER
My therapist was perplexed as to why I was so seemingly nonchalant about that afternoon's appointment to see Commander Waterford? Needless to say, it had not gone well with Mrs. Waterford. I'd needed three sessions with the therapist to convince me that I was under no obligation, none at all, to help Serena raise her baby. It had been at the third session that the therapist got me to admit to something quite apart from me that I'd not considered - who was the baby's father?
Had not the Waterford's been part of of the Red Center/Bilhah program? Had they not driven one Handmaid to suicide? Had they not got Nick to impregnate June?
Was baby Nichole actually the Commander's!? Once the therapist had 'pulled me from myself', I began to fear other things, fear for others apart from me. Strangely, the therapist had called that 'healthy'.
Remembering that both Luke as well as Moira had made their own pilgrimages to the ITWC lock-up, I went by their place the morning before seeing The Commander. Knowing that Moira was away with the CERA boat, I expected to see Luke. Instead, Emily answered the door and welcomed me in.
"Where's Luke?" I asked, as Emily took my coat, brought me into the kitchen. She sat quietly with her coffee for a bit. She then said that last night Luke had got a call, he then had called her to stay overnight to watch Nichole. He said he was heading to Sault Ste. Marie.
As Emily concluded, "Apparently they found June." Emily said that flatly, given the content. "She's on the CERA boat, they found her in Chicago of all places." She then looked down at her coffee as she fidgeted with its handle. "That cannot be good. CERA could be blown from the water if Gilead finds out."
Later, I waited in the hall outside the Commander's ITWC cell. I was told it made no difference if I'd told him about what was transpiring at the north end of Lake Michigan.
What was I haunted by? That two-letter word, 'us'.
Serena had included me in the 'us' that belonged to her unborn baby. My therapist had saved my life, she had unhooked me from the 'royal us' that I'd been forced into a time long ago, in a place far far away.
The time with Fred Waterford was surprising short. True to form, he stayed seated as I entered. Even Serena had stayed seated, I had not noticed that one. Seeing me he said, "Thank goodness, a friendly face."
I replied, "I'm not your friend." My therapist, she had got it the wrong way around about those two. Neither being terribly articulate, and surprisingly uncowed, hardly cowed at all, I thought: friends don't let friends own their friends. It was a mystery why I had not been as short, nor as sweet with Mrs. Waterford. Maybe it had been because in their household, none of the men had ever laid a hand on me.
He said, "I was never cruel to you."
I paused. "Here," I said, recovering a small envelope from my purse, then passing it to the Commander. "Take care of your own family."
Opening the small envelope, his eyes widened. There it was in his hands, Serena's ultrasound. I'd never seen him that shocked. The past was now officially the past.
As of today, there was no, and there never had been an 'us'.
