UPHEAVAL

I was to be assigned to the Monroe residence on a temporary basis. Commander Monroe and Mrs. Emma Monroe already had two marthas - I quickly realized the reason why I was there.

Ofwarren, now Ofdaniel. When they were transferred and changed names like that, it was hard to keep it straight.

I'd said it dozens of times, but only once to Mrs. Putnam. Ofwarren was not going to make it. I should have kept that to myself.

The trouble, it was just after the Mexicans had been in New Gilead, and our Handmaids and children had been presented at a banquet especially for them. Ofwarren was my personal responsibility, she was looking forward to 'a party'. At the last minute she, Oflyle, Ofthomas, Oftim and Ofjohn were removed because of their 'imperfections' as Mrs. Putnam had said, quoting Mrs. Waterford.

After, me, my casual remark to Mrs. Putnam was probably why it happened. I'd been the one who'd had to stay with Ofwarren in the kitchen late that night while she ate the extraneous-extra banquet ice-cream that Aunt Lydia had saved for her. The ice-cream was to make up for Ofwarren's humiliation - that she herself seemed crazily oblivious to.

Over ice cream, Ofwarren muttered about 'love' in the kitchen that night, all the way through multiple extra helpings. She was losing it.

After little sleep that night, I awoke with Mrs. Putnam summoning me. I just had time to get on my utilities and make it to the kitchen to hear Mrs. Putnam sarcastically telling the head-Martha, my boss, that she was simply going to have to make do…..

…... without me. At that Mrs. Putnam went back upstairs to her room.

The head-Martha turned to me and said, "You heard Mrs. Putnam," which I hadn't. "Get your things, the birthmobile will be here in 20 minutes."

"Everything?" I asked. She confirmed it, repeating - yes, everything.

She said, "Who knows when you're coming back." She said that people were bending over backwords for 'that one-eyed freak'. She then said that I was being loaned out to the Monroe's, and that from now on Ofwarren was Ofdaniel. "Put your stuff outside, then go ready the girl."

This was not good.

UNCEREMONIALLY

If they had asked, I would have told them that all this was a bad idea.

The Ceremony had started as usual, with the household gathered in Commander Monroe's study. The Commander read the story of Bilhah from the Bible. As they did things there, we waited in the study while the three went upstairs.

It wasn't 10 minutes later that the Commander came pounding down the stairs, saying that he was 'calling the Red Centre', to 'end this'.

He pointed at me, and ordered, "Get up there!" Which I did, post haste.

Mrs. Monroe was standing over in the corner of the bedroom, which I noted was she hovering over Ofdaniel. Mrs. Monroe was trying her best to console the fetal-positioned girl.

"He loves me," Ofdaniel was repeating. "He's coming for me," she said, adding, "we're going to have a life together." Then her words were drowned out by repetitions and sobs.

I could have told you. Mrs. Monroe turned to me and shrugged her shoulders. I approached and motioned that I wanted to take Ofdaniel back to her room. Mrs. Monroe nodded permission.

THE BRIDGE

At first I thought he had been my husband. I'd been dreaming that dream, the one that always left me cold when I awoke. I'd almost said something inappropriate, as I remembered the early morning back massages my man used to give me. The massages that had become ever so rare as our daughter entered our lives.

Guardians usually left marthas alone, so it was unusual to have one standing over me - in my room at 5 am. With his rifle at the ready. 'Ok,' I thought, 'none of this is mine anyway'. I got mad at myself, I had to be at the ready in case something like this was part of a ploy by my husband to free me.

I had to quit thinking of Guardians as bad. My husband was one, or at least had been.

The one in my room, his subsequent demeanor woke me fully. "Get dressed," he barked. Which I did. With him present both of us were at risk, being in each other's company like that.

I was taken to the Commander's study, where Daniel and Emma Monroe were, still in their bedclothes. There were half a dozen Guardians there, none of them my husband.

"Where'd she go?" barked the Commander at me. I quickly decided not to ask who he was talking about, and made the best guess I could - both about who he might be talking about, and where she might be. Experience suggested that guessing wrong meant something bad.

My mind raced, I blurted out, "have you tried the Putnam's? Her daughter is there."

At that Mrs. Monroe glared at me. I'd guessed right, but had made a grave error nonetheless. Making mention of biological lineage like that was verboten. Yet the gravity of the situation meant that I sidestepped the faux pas.

Commander Monroe picked up the phone, said, "Connect me to the Putnams." He waited a good 90 seconds for the connection - "Security chief? I need to speak to Warren Putnam." Commander Monroe loudly and sarcastically confirmed that he knew what time it was!

Five minutes passed. Then Commander Monroe said, "I'm not telling you how to run your home, Warren. Don't disturb Naomi, but go check on Angela." Commander Monroe repeated his words, apparently Commander Putnam was having a hard time fathoming what was going on at that time of the morning. As we all were.

Especially me.

BEACON STREET BRIDGE

A Guardian's SUV pulled up outside the Monroes.

It was for me. Well, not just me, Commander Monroe was all ready in it. That part was strange, because he had his own dedicated security vehicle, and this one was not it.

Now 1 pm, seated in the back, we sped off. I was as bewildered as ever as to what was going on. All I knew was the chaos all around, and the fear of putting another foot wrong.

Commander Monroe looked at me. In a first, he addressed me by name. (At the Monroe's I had grown uncertain that I still had one.)

"You're going to come out of this a hero," he told me. "No one is going to hang this on you, especially if it goes south. If you hadn't been at the house, we'd have been none the wiser."

My husband's words throbbed in my head, 'Say nothing, step back, blend in, do what you're told when you're told.' I had violated all of that.

So it was, it took effort to speak, I felt I was disobeying my husband. "Commander, where are we going?"

He looked out the window beside him as the street sped by. "We're picking up the Putnams. Angela is gone." He winced a wry-wince, "Your little tart of a Handmaid exchanged a blow-job for a ride. It was one of ours."

My husband was begging me to stay silent. Instead, I asked, "One of our 'what', Commander?"

His wry-wince made his cheeks puff, "the 18 year-old Guardian. She played him like a flute."

He looked at me and continued, "You're our contingency. Depending on where we find her, we may need to send in a friendly face." Yah, a friendly face to fetch Angela before Ofdaniel got blown to pieces by a Guardian's rifle.

A possibility which he had anticipated. "She's my discretion. Emma and I have decided that she's not to be touched, not right away anyway." He then made a remark about how the Red Centre simply had too much say, 'these days', as he put it. "We're letting women run us!"

"This one, it's a tug of war between Chancery and the Red Centre. My Lord, and they are all women!"

"With respect, sir," I risked. He looked at me as we were pulling into the Putnams, itself littered with security vehicles and flashing lights. He told me to 'spit it out', that it was about to get crazy. 'Crazier than this?' I thought.

"If it's a friendly face you need, go get Offred." Commander Monroe leaned back with surprise.

"Waterfords' girl?" he asked with eyebrows raised.

"Yes. They've been together through everything. Ofdaniel listens to Offred."

At that, Commander Putnam himself opened the SUV door and stuck his head in. All he said was, "Beacon Street Bridge."

Commander Monroe looked at me and said, "You've just earned extra dessert."

CONVALESCING

It was him.

It had been my husband.

Commander Monroe had said that I had exited the vehicle illegally, but that I should be given some slack. Commander Putnam agreed.

They thought I had unauthorizedly run from the Monroe SUV because I had been in shock at seeing Ofdaniel being particicuted - stoned by her fellow Handmaids for endangering Angela.

They thought it was out of loyalty to her, that I had put myself in harms'-way - and had received the butt end of a rifle for my efforts. My jaw had been shattered, but I only had another week handcuffed to this hospital bed, before being returned to the Putnams.

I'd gone crazy. It wasn't Ofdaniel - it was my husband. He'd been one of the Guardians who was supervising the Red Centre's disciplining of Ofdaniel. There he had been, it was him.

I couldn't have got close to him - otherwise he'd have interceded and I wouldn't be in here. As it was, I have no memory as to how close I'd got. When she'd visited, Mrs. Monroe said I had almost got to where the Handmaids were standing in a circle - that I was lucky I had not been shot. That both Commanders had vouched for me, that although foolish and criminally-interfering in a Red Centre particicution, that they were going to let me heal.

Then return me to the Putnams. Where Naomi Putnam had said, according to Emma Monroe, 'Our house is a merciful house, just as God has been merciful to us'.

I had a thousand questions when Mrs. Monroe visited. Having my jaw wired shut did not help. In a former time, I would have written them out.

So it was, my dreams/nightmares got a major upgrade. Alternately my husband had seen me there and saved me, or he had seen me there and had been the one to break my jaw. The dream/nightmare got an upgrade about our daughter - she was now being raised by my husband's new wife. In my dreams.

Mrs. Monroe has always been in the habit of saying too much. This is what she'd said about Ofdaniel's/Janine's disposition.

"It wasn't just a major embarrassment for Naomi," Mrs. Monroe had said. "It was an epic humiliation. I mean, they had salvaged that poor 18-year old Guardian because he had succumbed to sin with Ofdaniel. Warren Putnam, he got off light by losing an arm. If he'd been anyone else other than a Commander…" Mrs. Monroe went on about how Naomi Putnam had appeared before 'the Council' and had appealed to them to punish her husband 'according to the law', which meant being given over to 'the common mercy of the State', which meant hanging. So Mrs. Monroe said.

"Ofdaniel?" Mrs Monroe finished. "No longer Ofanything. She was shipped to the Colonies with other perverted, unwomen. She'll wish her mates had taken care of her at the particicution."

As I had often said, she wasn't going to make it. Yet if she could make it out there, maybe I've been wrong.

My husband?

No one but me knew. Had he seen me?

He'd seen me only in my mind.