The Coles were hosting a party. Anne pulled an even more obscene number of tokens than normal, so many in fact, that James drove Ofmilton and I to the store so the trunk could be used to hold the plethora of Gilead's finest meats, fruits, vegetables, and spices. The past few days had been a flurry of cleaning and decorating and cooking, all under the watchful eye of Mrs. Cole. The smell of glazed ham and candied bacon flooded the whole house. My stomach ached for a bite, my appetite making an appearance for the first time since being assigned. Maria and I were rarely allowed to help in the kitchen. Mrs. Cole was quick to find a chore for me to do outside of it anyway. Anne, it turned out, had been a chef in the time before, Maria had told me one afternoon after we'd been shooed out to dust the furniture for the third time that week. Maria had once overcooked the rice so badly that Anne had refused to trust another soul to cook again. We giggled in the hall until Mrs. Cole-the vulture we called her between ourselves-magical housekeeping senses alerted her to the lack of dusting.
"Crabby vulture," I muttered under my breath after she left. Maria coughed violently.
The evening of the party arrived and dozens of Commanders, Wives, and even a few Handmaids flooded in through the blue sitting room. Men and women segregated, the former to the two lounges, the latter to the many sitting rooms, parlors, and tables set up in the gardens to enjoy the unseasonably mild weather.
Maria handed me a platter of hors d'oeuvres. Other Handmaids were given similar platters of meats, cheeses, and breads. Wine was poured and served. One Handmaid, however, stood out among the others. Ofeli, another whispered to me as stood beside me. Even in her shapeless red dress her bulging belly announced itself proudly. Ofeli sat in a place of honor among the Wives. Ofeli's mistress kept a protective hand on her belly as the other wives fawned over her. Ofeli's face remained a blank mask through it all, like a red Russian nesting doll.
After dinner, I ventured upstairs to the men's lounges with an assortment of desserts. The Commanders grew silent as I entered, I could feel their eyes clinging to me as I wove through the crowd, silently proffering my tray to them. Surprisingly few took from it. I searched for Commander Cole through the smoky rooms to no avail. Of all the Commanders, he was the one I wanted to upset the least. While he didn't look at me with the overt hatred of his wife, I hadn't failed to notice when he occasionally came home with dried blood under his manicured nails. Where could he be?
I gave up, heading downstairs, when I heard muted voices leaking from Commander Cole's study. Heart pounding, I crept towards the door. Locked. I picked out Commander Cole's voice among a handful of others.
"We will not let this insult stand," a man said. "First they place sanctions on us, then refuse to recognize the Republic, and now supplying those infidels," he spat the word, "with weapons? There must be consequences for the Canadians."
Conflicting voices toppled over one another. I pressed my ear closer to the keyhole.
"-like Chicago."
"Don't be ridiculous."
"All out war would be a disaster."
Commander Cole's voice once again rose above the rest. "Gentlemen, gentlemen, there is a solution. I've spoken with the Russian ambassadors, they are willing to negotiate a trade: weapons and troops along the Canadian border in exchange for information about-"
"What do you think you're doing?" Someone demanded. I started, spinning wildly around. I breathed a sigh in relief that it was Maria, only mildly annoyed.
"I was looking for Commander Cole," I confessed. "I didn't want him to miss his port."
"Don't bother," she said. "He's always cooped up after dinner parties and he hates being interrupted. You're lucky I'm the one who found you and not Mrs. Cole. She'd cut your ear off if she caught you listening through the door."
Chagrined, I headed downstairs. I looked back to see Maria still waiting by the door. I couldn't stop wondering at what I'd overheard though. Was it possible that Gilead would go to war with Canada?
The party had long since ended when a soft knock sounded. My heart leapt into my throat, only to drop back to its rightful place at the sight of Maria. She was dressed for bed with her pale gray nightgown and dark hair let down. She gestured with the lit candle in her hand.
"Mind if I come in?"
I bit my lip and craned my neck to check the third floor for lights. A faint glow trickled from the Commander's bedroom.
"It's against the rules," I said.
"Only if we get caught," Maria replied, pushing past me into the room.
She looked around before settling at the foot of my bed. She motioned for me to join her. I cursed her and myself as I joined her. If we got caught, I would turn her in with no hesitation. How dare she put me at risk for a nighttime visit?
"Why are you here, Martha?" I asked coldly.
She grimaced at the title. "Geez, so stiff all the time. I just wanted us to get to know each other a little better. There's little opportunity to hang out with girls my own age, y'know?"
"Anne was right, your informality is going to get you in trouble one day. I don't want to get dragged down with you."
"Relax. No one is going to find us. James and Anne will be fast asleep by now, and the Coles don't leave their rooms once they turn in. The night shift Guardians don't check inside at night, they just patrol the grounds once in a while when they aren't playing cards, the slackers." Maria leaned back casually on her arms. "I just wanted to talk about what you were doing listening in on the Commander's meeting."
My breath caught in my throat. "I don't know what you mean. I told you earlier, I was going to bring him his port. You know that."
"You're a terrible liar. You didn't have any port on you. I watched long enough to see you were snooping."
"Are you going to turn me in?" I asked.
Maria laughed. "Don't be ridiculous. If I wanted to do that, I would have done so already. I wanted to know what you overheard. We Martha's have to get our daily dose of gossip."
She nudged me with her elbow, smiling. I didn't return it. "Gossiping is a sin, Maria. Besides, I didn't hear anything worth gossiping about."
She sighed. "Don't you ever break the rules? Just once in a while? You had to end up a Handmaid somehow. You ever prank an Aunt or get flirty with another Handmaid, ever seen someone do something they weren't supposed to and not rat them out? Come on, you can tell me."
Maria placed her hand over mine. Her thumb stroked my fingers. I met her gaze. There was a hungry sparkle to her eyes that sent a chill down my spine. There was something more to this than her reckless desire to break the rules.
Dangerous. This was very dangerous territory.
"Watch yourself, Maria." I said, pulling my hand back. I felt a pang of guilt as her expression became pained. "I'm not a gender traitor, and even if I was, it is too risky for you to be pulling something like this. You could get killed or worse, sent to the Colonies."
"Ah, right. The Colonies," She said. Something felt off in the way she said it, but I couldn't put my finger on it.
"I think you should go," I pressed.
I stood up and opened the door. Maria slowly followed me.
"Good night, Maria."
"Good night. Thanks for the chat."
I fell against the door as soon as I closed it and squeezed my eyes shut.
I woke up to a familiar tight, twisting pain in my stomach. A part of me still held out hope until I saw the blood staining my underwear. They hadn't given me any of the old fashioned sanitary napkins that Gileadan women had to use in lieu of pads. They were little more than thick cloths, like a reusable diaper, and they had a bad habit of sliding with any movement. I hated them. Maria had told me Mrs. Cole expected me to ask her directly every month in a strange bid for power. My ears burned with embarrassment at the thought.
I stuffed toilet paper to tie me over until I could beg Mrs. Cole for the napkins. When I was younger, I'd had no choice but to use toilet paper over pads or tampons. They'd been too expensive. I'd forgotten what a luxury pads had been after my father came into money. I hadn't known at the time that money was coming from the Sons of Jacob.
The Cole's were seated for breakfast. As always, I stood two steps behind the Commander's seat, just as he liked it, to fetch them anything they wanted. Maria ducked out as soon as I entered.
I surreptitiously scanned the reports he read. I couldn't see well enough to make out much, and I didn't dare to stare longer or come closer, but I risked longer glances than normal today. There had been an uprising in what had been North Carolina. I had gotten to where it said "600 casualties" before he closed his folder. My heart skipped a beat. People were still fighting back, and they had taken down hundreds before falling. I wondered if any had managed to survive. I hoped so.
Breakfast was coming to a close. I cleared my throat. "Mrs. Cole, my monthly cycle has come, may I have sanitary napkins?"
Mrs. Cole's fork clattered onto her plate. A pregnant pause. "So. You've failed your sacred duty. I expected better than that."
"I'm sorry Mrs. Cole, but these things can take time even in perfect conditions. I'll try harder next mo-"
Mrs. Cole's ice blue eyes lit up with fury. "Don't you lecture me, Handmaid!" She spat.
"Charlene, be reasonable." Commander Cole warned, his tone cold. "We will try again next month."
They faced off silently. The fire in Mrs. Cole's eyes dimmed. Commander Cole grunted in approval as he rose from his seat. "Well, I'd best head out. A new military operation is in the works and I can't be late."
Once the front door snicked shut, Mrs. Cole yanked me by the bun. I yelped as she dragged me out into the snow that had freshly fallen that night. The cold bit my face. She thrust me into the snow.
"You insolent bitch," she hissed. Her claws ripped the cap from my head, taking a clump of hair with it. My eyes watered.
"How dare you speak to me, a Wife, that way, do you think you are better than me?" She kicked my stomach. "You are nothing but a common harlot" more kicks followed punctuated by her frenzied screams. A part of me wondered through the blood and the pain whether the neighbors could hear.
Freezing water shocked me out of the daze of pain I'd fallen into. Mrs. Cole hauled another bucket over as I spluttered and stumbled away. The second wave bit deep into my bones.
"You stay out here until you go shopping. Let this be a lesson of what happens when you fail."
She made me shop in my wet clothes, and when I'd returned, she'd doused me again and left me out until nightfall. That night I was sent to the hospital with frostbite and hypothermia. I lost three of my toes from it. Aunt Claire scolded Mrs. Cole for endangering the life of a Handmaid, and Mrs. Cole made sure to keep the bruises in places covered by clothing. Unfortunately that meant almost everywhere.