WORKING OUT THE KINKS
Fred was in a foul mood. Dealing with Ray Cushing's misdeeds was always exhausting for Fred. When Ray went off the deep end, Fred would feel a need to be there. For him.
It was unusual for Fred to arrive home in a cab, but there he was. Serena saw him out on the street arguing with the driver. For her, that was just like old times. In former times, she had admired the 'little man' who had to fight and scrape for everything.
But now, Serena, she was fed up. This was the third week since she hadn't left the house, she being on a bit of a strike. Her pantry was emptying. Soon, though, she was going to have to manage public transit - their food stores needed replenishing. Fred, he was a Commander of the Faithful - Serena, she was on public transit, having now to sit with econowives and undesirables.
What was the point of being married to who she was, if she had to deal with that? All of that could be solved if wives were allowed to drive - not econowives, there's no need to stray too far from what she had written.
Fred stormed up the sidewalk, up the stairs, in the door, threw his coat towards the hall rack so that it missed, fell to the floor. Muttering not so silently, he stomped off to his office.
It meant that he'd not seen the condition of the house. Him missing the mess, that pissed off Serena royally. She had purposely not lifted a broom or a duster for days - he, though, was bound to notice in the morning when he had no clean or pressed shirts. A stickler for personal image, Fred was bound to get pissed at that!
"Honey, we're a team," he used to say. Some team. The Waterford house was fast coming to a boiling point.
SUMMONED TO THE OFFICE
Fred had never bellowed before. Yet there it was, his voice booming through the house from his office. "Sereeeeeenaaaaa!"
Obediently she answered with her presence, she opened the large oak door, there he was sitting at his far off desk opposite. "Yes", she said from the door. He hand-waved her to come over, reminiscent of the first time he'd waved like that - when they'd been dating. His first time meeting her parents. He'd showed irritation at the parents attitude towards him, he'd hand-waved to her right in front of them.
Fred had been irritated at Serena's dad's barbs aimed his way about the advertising business, as well as how stalled Fred's career seemed to be. Fred just wanted to go. Serena was not going to walk out of her own parents' house just before a dinner.
So she came in, closed the door, then approached Fred's desk. The scene looked a bit like she was being summoned by the school principal.
"Serena," Fred said, trying to dial down his anger, "this office has not been cleaned. It's impossible to work here."
Finally, she thought, he'd noticed. She said, "Fred, we were promised a live-in house keeper." He told her that that was taking more time than the Commanders had thought. He told her that only about 1/3 of what he called, 'elite homes' had such 'luxuries'. That 'we' were going to have to just make do in the meantime.
"You don't know the day I've had," he said with resignation. Fred had tried to sell the Chancery on leniency towards Cushing - to 'send a message' as Fred had put it. That day, Ray Cushing's fate rested on Fred's salesmanship skills.
"Even the cabbie argued with me. I'd told him to bill The Chancery. The gall of the guy, he said, 'the Chancery doesn't pay its bills', he'd said." Fred's anger tempered when he remembered, "I guess we've laid-off too many civil servants. The lack of bean counters are going to sink Gilead!"
Serena decided to go for it. No time like the present. Standing straight as if a teenager, but going for the scolding motherly voice that always worked with him, she said, "Fred, if you want a clean office, we're going to have to have a live-in. I've decided I'm going to write the book anyway. 'A Woman's Place' is not enough. Not nearly. You Commanders simply don't have a roadmap - 'A Woman's Place' is not legislation, it is an idea. My next book will be what needs implementing."
Fred fiddled with the pen in his hand as his ire rose. "Serena, we've had this conversation. You cannot, repeat, cannot be writing."
"Fred," she scolded, "I'm tired of you coming home complaining about some screw-up of public policy. The men are spinning their wheels. Let the wives have a go!"
He yelled, "And I'm tired of not getting any support here at home. This place is a pig-sty. Where's dinner?"
"Oh that," Serena said, "there's leftovers in the fridge. I know you can manage. I'm going upstairs, and I'd appreciate not being disturbed."
THE PEN IS NOT SO MIGHTY
Serena had intended to write only until midnight. She'd had her outline on 3x5 cards, and had always written out the first draft in long-hand on lined paper. Cursive writing was becoming a lost art. If the more radical of the Sons of Jacob had their way, it would disappear altogether - in women.
There she was, fast asleep in her chair, head down on the desk. She was awoken by the rustling of paper. She'd fallen asleep, thinking that at 2 am all she needed was a nap to get re-centered in her train of thought. It was now morning.
Waking she saw Fred, stuffing her 8 1/2 x 14 sheets of draft text, stuffing it roughly into a pillow case.
Standing and grabbing at him she yelled, "What are you doing?" He pushed her away, telling her she did not know the fire she was playing with.
He again roughly pushed her. She said, "Fred, that's my book! You boys down at the New State House need it."
"It's not the State House, it's the Chancery. And if Ray Cushing gets wind of this," he said holding up the pillow case, "we'll both be on the wall."
The what? Serena asked, "What are you talking about? Ray and Sonia are friends! Ray's the the doghouse!"
"The Wall," Fred repeated. He then muttered something about Sally, the former cleaner that they'd had. "High Commander Pryce told Cushing that since it was his home, that Cushing could deal with it."
Serena repeated that she did not know what Fred was saying. What wall?
"Remember Sally?, Fred said, "So much for Bilhah service. She'd have been perfect. Yet Sally had been found in the Cushing daughter's bedroom very early one morning last week. Pryce turned her disposition over to Ray. Ray took a group of guardians down by the river-wall and they hanged her, right for all to see. She's probably still there."
Serena briefly thought that she should be feeling more 'shock' at the news about Sally. It didn't, not really. But it settled one fear of hers. She had feared that Sally would end up there, in their home, for the Bilhah program. That would have been weird, Fred fathering a surrogate child with someone they knew.
Fred held up the pillow case. "Wanna hear the fire you're playing with? At the very least, a hand. A fucking hand, Serena! At worst, the Wall! Do you hear me." Fred went through the whole menu of punishments that the Commanders had just reviewed that week.
"My shirts," he continued, while resuming putting every paper or notebook of Serena's into the pillow case. "There's one, one, that I'll risk wearing today. But so help me, woman, my closet will either be up to snuff this evening, or there'll be hell. You have no idea the pressure I'm under."
At that, they heard a car-horn from outside. "Fuck," Fred sputtered. "It's the cab. Lord above, Gilead is going to hell and we've barely started." At that he ran to the basement with the pillowcase, stopping at the furnace to throw it in and briefly watch it catch. Then he was upstairs, picking up his coat, still on the entryway floor and going outside to do battle with yet another cabbie.
THE FOUNDERS
Fred came home that night just after 8:30 pm. Serena now had had enough experience with cooking for such a busy man, that she knew how to keep things warm - he now could be in any time from 5 pm until midnight, would always have a warm dinner. If later in the evening, she'd have time to relax. Today, all his shirts had been laundered, and the ironing had gone well. Not a crease out of place.
The best thing about eating at 9 pm? She had had enough time to do everything so that she could sit with him. Hear about the day. Fred said that he liked it when she showed interest in them as a couple. Sitting and talking, like the before times.
This had been Serena's default mode when not making any headway with Fred on big things. Like her writing.
During the day alone, Serena had cried uncontrollably. Then she thought hard while washing, ironing, mopping, and making sure Fred's office had been straightened and dusted. She'd taken the opportunity to read some classified Gilead documents Fred had left laying around.
She'd been worried about how The Commanders were going to roll out the Bilhah program, the seminal action Gilead would take to combat infertility. Serena had reserved a few chapters in her new book to her thoughts, but that now no one was going to read that.
Off the table into the furnace.
FRED FINDS HIS FEET
Fred had just finished his plate and was sipping some wine. Serena took advantage of the silence, said, "Fred, it's not as simple as rounding up fertile women, and assigning them randomly to homes. I mean, who does the assigning? I'm telling you, Fred, that us wives are going to have reactions to that sort of intrusion. Into our homes."
"Into 'my' home, you mean," Fred interjected. "Don't forget that."
"Don't misunderstand my meekness, Fred," Serena quipped. He assured her he never did. Serena continued, "There has to be some sort of vetting."
Fred put down his wine goblet, motioning for a refill, and said, "Way ahead of you, darling, way ahead of you." Serena got up, made a point of filling her own goblet first, then going over and refilling his.
After she sat, Fred continued. "Pryce knows a Son of Jacob, a woman. Vidala, Vidala something-or-other. Vidala will head up a Bilhah training school of some sort. Wants to call then 'Vidala Schools'. Lord above, even women have egos. She's hand-picked her staff. Someone named Elizabeth, also Helena - oh, do you remember Lydia Clements?"
Serena asked if that was the 'Lydia Clements' who'd been a teacher and a family court judge? Fred said, "I think so." He then concluded, "We're way ahead of you dear."
Serena took a long sip of her wine, then said, "Is that where Sally would have gone?" Fred looked surprised and asked 'where?' "Instead of on the wall?" Serena said in a low voice. All Fred said in response was that Ray and Sonia's daughter was safe, that was all that mattered.
Fred added said softly, "and Ray will be all right."