Mom and Dad

I know I've been a disappointment. But there's a lot going on. It's hard to get into the frame of mind to restart cellular microbiology. Unlike before, this time I would appreciate being in the lab, rather than the classroom. My mind is not agile any more, the give and take with students used to be very life-giving. Now when someone talks to me, I find myself just staring at them. It's embarrassing.

These days I have been engrossed with the Refugee Aid Foundation of Canada. My friends Moira and Luke are movers and shakers in it. Luke is the husband of June, June is the woman back in Gilead who is Baby Nichole's mother. Yes, 'that' baby-Nichole. Moira 'gets' me. She's very extroverted, which as you know is not like me. She's overwhelming.

I've been caught in the media's cross-hairs. The first interview with the CBC I had to walk out. Accused me of child trafficking. Gilead wants me prosecuted. I've been assured by my lawyer here in Toronto that that is unlikely.

It's been slow with Syl. Before that day at Logan Airport, Syl was my ground and confidant. Oliver was my all. It frightens me that he is curious as to what had happened in Gilead. Syl was cross with me when I grabbed Oliver once too hard. Mostly he is a sweetie, and he is so big. He has an intriguing mastery of language. Syl tried to tell me about all his 'firsts', but I asked her to stop.

I won't bore you with my injury. In many ways it seems so trivial.

I have thanked Syl for corresponding with you during my absence. It's why I love her so, she does not give up easily. She and I just need time.

You may have heard of Angel's Flight. I was there with RAFC at the hangar when the airplane was towed in. Yes, 86 children and almost a dozen women. Moira and I are working at settling children with any kin they may have in Canada - not everyone is near to Toronto, many kids have no people here at all. So it has been a logistics nightmare. I still have nightmares about the women who came down those aircraft stairs. The looks on their faces was unforgettable. I cannot describe it. I recognized one, a woman named Rita. It was hard to believe that I had once looked like her.

I'm in therapy as well as a self-help group that Moira runs at a local library. With other escapees. Not sure it does any good, you know me, I'm not very chatty. I don't see why it helps to air one's insides.

Syl has been patient. I have a place of my own, and when time allows Oliver sleeps over. We're not separating or anything, it's just that I need time.

I apologize, I've not once asked about you. I gather I wouldn't recognize the old town, the one that holds all those teenage memories. In your letters to Syl you've said that electricity was spotty, and that the Blackfeet and Assiniboine have been a godsend. Is it really true that the Crow are no more? It's good to know that you are fiercely holding on to American territory. You know me, dad, we used to argue about the 2nd Amendment. My oh my have my views about that changed.

I'm not trying to shock you when I say, put a bullet in one of them for me. I mean it.

If there's a chance of us coming out, I've asked Syl if it could just be me and Oliver. No, we are not separating, I don't want you thinking that. Please just accept who we are, especially now.

Emily, Sylvia and Oliver

A short note. We're no longer in Montana. We're at RCAF Station High River across the line in Alberta. It's a refugee camp. It's very different from what life sounds like in Toronto. There you pretty much have free rein. This is a real refugee camp. Tents and wire. We had to surrender our weapons. Surrender them or no food and shelter. We cannot come or go. There's no timeline to head back to town. We're told the southern neighborhood is no more.

The drones pretty much made life in town back home unlivable. Neighbors used to make sport of blowing them out of the sky - we'd have competitions with the Blackfeet reservation over CB radio. They've got proper ground-to-air. No one knows where they got them. We have no reason to distrust the Blackfeet because they've been so good to us, but they have not had to abandon their lands. There's a rumor that they've made some sort of accord with Gilead. We don't believe it, though. I went to school with the guys now leading them.

Life in the camp is hell. The cold is here, and the place is not really designed for people en masse. It's a WWII airbase. The Calgary Consulate checks up on us, but basically they tell us we should be grateful. I asked about some sort of visitor's visa so that we could get to Calgary - for a visit with you. The best the Consulate could manage was to arrange a visit for you here at the Camp - kind of like visiting a prison. You'd be searched upon entry, and we'd be searched once it was over.

It's enough to know that you are safe, Emily. However, we can imagine the time you must be having. We know how much Sylvia and Oliver mean to you. We've been talking, and we want to apologize for a lot. Don't lose track of her, Emily. She's family.

Even though this is Canada, mail is spotty. It was better at Sweet Grass USPS. Others in the camp complain. We're treated like Gilead sympathizers.

Mom and Dad.

MOM AND DAD

I'd thought that Sylvia had not known. But she does. I can't believe she's still talking to me. For some reason I need to tell you.

I'd had an affair in Gilead. You may not know what 'Marthas' or 'Handmaids' are, but Marthas are unfertile women who are domestics in elite homes. I'd had an affair with one of the them, in the same home in which I had been posted. It's what led to my injury.

Gilead being Gilead, they condemned her to the 'common mercy of the State'. For finding love in that ocean of death called Gilead. She was Martha 6715-301, that's all she was to them. They made me watch. It is strange writing all this down.

Sylvia knows. She always has. She says she doesn't care what I'd done in Gilead. I'm terrified to find out what else she knows. Has she told Oliver?

I was stalked here in Toronto by a woman from Gilead, she'd been the 'Aunt' who'd turned us in. Me and the Martha. That Aunt, when I refused to talk with her, she hanged herself. I'm not sorry. I'm glad. My friend Moira, she wants me to be sorry. I cannot face Sylvia about this. I don't know if Oliver knows. What do I tell Oliver when I'm glad she took the coward's way out?

MR AND MRS MALEK

I gather that Emily is now writing to you directly. That is a good thing, mostly. I gather she's told you and she and I are taking some time. She's throwing herself into RAFC work.

I also have heard that you're now at a refugee camp in southern Alberta. Just the little of what Em has told me, it sounds horrible. Tell us what we can do from here in Toronto? The Calgary Consulate sounds swamped.

Tell us what you need.

Sylvia and Oliver

Emily and Sylvia

Mom is gone. I can't believe it. I still hear her voice.

I'm recovered. Somewhat. Physically, I mean. The Gilead bastards hit the camp with drones. Dozens killed. Murdered. I didn't know what happened until they told me at the Calgary triage center two days later.

We're now at the abandoned Currie barracks in Calgary. I'm still not 100%. It would be your mom needling me about behaving myself. Now there's no one.

If you can make it, I would want to see you. All three of you.

Gilead made a breakthrough at Great Falls, all the way up to town. They killed the remaining men and took women. Some of your highschool classmates. I was told not to tell you that, but you have a right to know.

I'm lost. I can still feel her. She had her opinions. Emily, let me say this. If you have half the attachment to Sylvia I have to her, hang on. Hang on to Oliver. There was no funeral. Only a memorial for all those killed. And taken. Names were listed. It was impersonal.

Grandpa Ollie

GRANDPA

Ollie, I am so sorry about grandma. We told Oliver, but did not say everything. Yet he's not stupid, he 'gets' things that neither of us get. This is a horrible world for kids. He knew that grandma did not approve of me.

The Toronto Consulate said that they've already informed Calgary people so you may already know. I hope, though, that you hear it from me first.

Emily has been arrested again, this time for murder. I was going to say, 'here in Canada', but that is what is presently under dispute, not whether or not she participated in a crime 'in Canada'. You may have heard about Gilead's 'Commander Waterford' being extradited back to Gilead from Toronto, that shortly after being taken at the border, he disappeared. Then was found dead hanging about 20 feet south of the 45th parallel - the 45th is the border out east here.

They say that Emily was involved. So much is unknown, what is known is that that area is 'disputed' between Gilead and the old United States. It's not Canada (although only 20 feet away) and never was.

Emily appeared at my place, wanting to see Oliver. Of course I let her in. She looked comatose. Worse than even that first day. Oliver asked her if she had killed 'the bad man'. She froze for a second, then said, 'yes'. When Oliver replied 'good!', Emily hit him. I called police and children's services. The police had already been searching for her.

There's no other way to say it. Emily is being investigated, and the Consulate here says her refugee status is being reviewed by the Canadian immigration minister. They say that the murder investigation will probably be dropped for lack of jurisdiction. But that that doesn't end her problems. She can't see Oliver unless supervised.

I feel like I'm pouring it on way too much, for that I am so sorry Ollie. You have so much to contend with out there in Alberta as it is. I will keep you posted as best I can. I promise that I will keep Oliver safe.

I look forward to the days when we can have an ordinary 'chatty' letter. Are you allowed e-mail or internet?

Sylvia and Oliver