HOLDING COURT

"When you get yours, make sure she's not a Mary. All ours ever did was talk, talk, talk, talk - anything but clean or cook. She made the mistake once of giving her opinions to Ray."

Sonia Cushing was holding court at this, the first in a to-be-established tradition of the wives gathering. Or as Sonia was to christen it, the 'Wives' gathering, with a capital 'W'. As Sonia said, "Graciously hosted by Naomi, Commander Putnam's Wife." There was the appropriate, dainty applause befitting the group.

And why not have Sonia hold court. The Cushing household was the first of the Commanders to enjoy all the perks. Ray's rehabilitation was now complete. Ray now had a permanent Guardian who doubled as a driver - 24/7. They had a daughter, a placement. They also had a Bilhah placement. A Handmaid, as the girls were now called. The name 'Vidala Schools' had not caught on. They were now referred to as simply 'Red Centres' based on the solid-red colour that the girls wore.

Serena, she was still doing the household laundry. Still cooking. It's why her status at those lunches suffered. Fred still took taxis. Although if the Waterfords were ever assigned a girl from the Red Centre, they would first have to have a live-in. By policy. So even though Sonia was today being an 'entitled bitch', as Serena thought of it, she listened intently as to how the Cushing's home was functioning. It soon would be such for all those gathered today.

The elite.

Serena had never met Naomi Putnam before. She had a beautiful home, was Commander Warren Putnam's wife….. ah, er, Wife. Had a live-in, no children. Yet. Naomi was friendly, everything that Sonia was not. Naomi was also opinionated, and it helped that she and Serena held mostly the same views.

"I loved your book!" Naomi had said in a hushed voice, lest others hear. Serena was holding out for the day when her own home-life would stabilize enough so that she could visit with the likes of Mrs. Putnam privately. Have her own driver. Talk with Naomi about the future Gilead should be taking.

Can't do that when arriving by transit.

Sonia, she was still droning on. Because of Ray's reputation, none of the Wives wanted to get on her bad side. There was plenteous gossip about Ray's killing of their handmaid, and how he'd only been 'slapped on the wrist'. Except that that ship had already sailed for Serena, one-to-one she would say what she really felt about Sonia. Always sprinkling the gossip with, 'the terrible time I endured with her on Antigua and Barbuda'.

"Don't get a Mary," Sonia continued. "She got fired, sent back. Our next one was a Martha - she's exceptional. She knows my needs even before I do. She's just like Martha in Luke, chapter 10. Like in the Bible, Martha is far, far more useful to her Lord than Mary ever had been. No talk, talk, talk, talk."

NO TRUCE

Commander Putnam had provided the afternoon's program, reading from the Bible. Genesis 30:1-3. He then led in prayer, that God would bless the Bilhah program, and that children be finally be able to flourish in God's chosen land - Gilead. Then he was off, driven back to Chancery. The Wives had been blessed by his presence.

Then a free hour. It was sixty minutes before Serena's own taxi would be there. As such, she'd be able to be home in time for Fred's dinner. The cost of this outing was that the laundry would have to wait until late in the evening. Serena was determined to make a good use of this time, kibitzing as much as possible. High on her list of deprivations was talking with other women.

Which Serena hoped would not be spoiled by Sonia sauntering over to her, which she was doing tea-cup in hand.

"So, sister, you look like shit," Sonia offered quietly but pointedly. "Dishpan hands. Deep pits where your eyes used to be…"

Feeling herself welling up with ire, Serena managed, "Stow it, bitch. Come to rub it in, have you? Ever since Antigua, you've been nothing but a vicious hag."

"Yah, what happened?" Sonia asked with a giggle in her voice.

Serena said, "You started telling lies. Lies about Antigua. Lies about Fred. Hell, how can you even be trusted when talking about your own Commander? Did he really beat you? Or were you going for sympathy?"

"Suit yourself," Sonia said. Taking a sip of tea she continued, "I happen to know that Ray and Fred frequent Jezebels, use the girls there as a cover for whatever it is they do."

Serena laughed, "Now you're just making things up. There's no such thing as Jezebels."

It was Sonia's turn to snicker. "Oh? Ok. Have it your way. Have you kept track of the number of times that Ray's driver drops Fred at home, late into the evening?" Serena had never looked. Had always assumed it was a taxi driving away.

Serena paused and asked, "What happened to Sally?" Sonia replied that she knew no one by that name. So Serena refreshed her memory, "Sally, the woman who Ray put on the wall?"

Sonia said, "Oh, that psychotic bitch. Broke into our house. Was in my daughter's bedroom. She got what she deserved." Sonia paused for a bit, then asked, "Do you want to hear something funny?" Serena did not answer, anticipating that nothing from that point on could possibly be funny.

Sonia deadpanned, "No sooner had your 'Sally' been taken down, than our 'Mary' got put up. Same rope." At that Sonia wandered away, looking for another person to kibitz with.

AS THE WORLD TURNED

It happened just as Serena was contemplating another cleaning-and-cooking strike. Fred came home with the news that they were moving. To a bigger place. With a carriage house above the garage. For the Guardian-driver that was to be assigned to him. Soon. Probably assigned even before the move.

And Fred had news which would be good fodder for the next Wives' tea, the one to come up at the Deeds' home. The Waterfords were getting a Martha. "Just like I promised," beamed Fred. "We're a team. See? We're climbing this ladder together!"

The new house was nothing if not stately. Indeed, Glen Deeds' house was two down, and the new Waterford house had 1000 sq. ft. more, as well as a small greenhouse. Serena made Fred promise that they would not move in, until the driver and the Martha were in place. She knew from bitter experience that Fred would be no help with the move, and she did not want to set up a new home by herself.

Except that the next day, Fred came home - by taxi, not alone. Home to the old house. He had a girl clad in red, with a starched-white bonnet - looked like nun's-wings, they came in together through the front door. The girl stood quietly, hands neatly folded in front of her, eyes down.

"Who's this?" Serena asked, fearing that Fred had had a stroke, and had brought home one of his Jezebels girls. The Jezebels that she'd just told Sonia did not exist.

Fred just said, "Honey, this is Offred. We're starting a family."

They hadn't even moved yet! Where was the girl going to sleep? "Not with us!" Serena almost said out loud.

The debacle which ensued in the old Waterford house led to major reform in the Red Centre. The debacle led directly to the Aunts - now headed by Aunt Lydia, of all people - visiting, vetting, and educating Commander's Wives about their obligations in what was to develop into, "The Ceremony." A Ceremony beginning with a reading and prayer, involving the whole household. A Ceremony to single out the Commander and his Bilhah-girl, but also remind the Wife of her obligation.

None of which had been done that night at the Waterford's old place. Fred had just told Serena to remain clothed, lie back on the bed - and he'd return with the girl, Offred. Fred had insisted on 'doing the deed' elsewhere, then making the two lie together in the same bed. He'd put it as, "clothing in the north quadrant optional." But that the south quadrant had to be clear.

When they came in he turned the girl to lay down on top of Serena, face up. "Really?" Serena thought.

This was Fred's second 'go' at it in a few minutes, Serena thought. 'Optimistic!' she added in her head. Since when was he that virile? After much grunting atop of the girl, Serena not being able to breath underneath, Fred pulled back from the bed and said, "Fuck me." He then left the room.

Serena was not surprised to find herself in tears. Sobbing outloud, she pushed the girl onto the floor at the foot of the bed. Serena got up, barely noticing that the girl herself was crying as Serena pulled her up from the floor.

At that, Serena leaned back and punched the girl, straight in the face. A good one. As her dad many years ago had shown her, which he would always add, "Don't hit like a sissy. Keep you elbow, your hand, and your target in a straight line."

The girl now just lay there, on Serena's bed. Silent. Not moving. Serena yelled, "Fred! Get in here!"

The detailed description of which was in a folder at the Red Centre marked, 'for eyes only'. Which Aunt Lydia brought with her to the Waterford's at their new house the next month. Now that they had a driver and a Martha. As well as that same Handmaid. The now damaged one. The one Fred took to Jezebels.

THE RED CENTRE VISIT

When Aunt Lydia had arrived, Serena opened the door and burst out laughing. Aunt Lydia stood there on their stoop, and said, "What could possibly be funny?"

That's not how The Aunt had rehearsed her first official visit, the first time a woman - any woman of Gilead - had authorization to exercise authority over a man and his house.

In this case, Commander Waterford and his domain.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Serena Joy offered, inviting Aunt Lydia in, she holding tight to her doctor's bag.

When seated, Serena had poured the tea she had set out, for the two of them.

Aunt Lydia looked around, "this place is clean." She then added with a pronounced tone, "for a house without a Martha."

Serena said, "well, we're not in the new one yet. I've told The Commander that it would be best to postpone the actual day of the move…..", which she did not finish. Aunt Lydia had understood that Mrs. Waterford had meant, until the other 'staff' were in place.

Lydia finally asked, "where's the Handmaid. I am going to need to see her. Chancery has been very clear of Aunts' authority in these matters."

Serena said firmly, "she won't be coming down. I'm afraid she's under the weather." She had been since Serena's punch. The Handmaid complained of headaches, as well as an inability to either focus her eyes or concentrate on her thoughts. Which Serena would always add, 'what that they are, you're not here for your thoughts, dear.'

Lydia added, "I'm afraid I must insist, Mrs. Waterford. Perhaps we should get The Commander in here, so that he can explain Chancery's remit?"

Serena said, "Fred is not here today."

At which, Lydia put down her tea-cup, picked up her medical bag and stood. "Then - if Moses can't go to the mountain…" She motioned to Serena to remain seated and added, "I can find my way. The house is not large."

CHANCERY CHECK-UP

The next week, Fred had reported to Chancery how the first Red Centre visit had gone. The very first visit in all of Gilead into a Commander's home, where a woman - the Aunt - had held sway.

Fred had said, "it's necessary, my brothers. It's in service to our commitment to the Bilhah program - which is going to save our world. So hear me correctly, I am not talking against it."

"But mark my words," he added. "It's the slippery slope. It's dangerous." Fred looked at Ray Cushing opposite him, then scanned the other Commanders. "It's the end of privacy for us, our homes will no longer be solely our castles."

Andrew Pryce spoke, "what are you getting at, Waterford? Spit it out!"

Waterford added, "I'm an ad-man, High Commander. I've made a living controlling narratives. I'd like to think that that is my service to God's cause with you good gentlemen."

Waterford paused. "The Aunt, she kept notes. She wrote things out. Without so much as a how-do-you-do. Just pulled out a pencil and pad, and wrote out everything about me and my Handmaid."

Commander Cushing said, "I've heard nothing about a salvaging of an Aunt! You mean, you let that slide!?"

Waterford said, "and there won't be a salvaging. The Bilhah program requires it, and we're certainly not assigning men to the Red Centre." He rested his elbows on the desk in front of him, "but it is the slippery slope, my colleagues. Mark my words." Making notes, meant the storage of those notes. The storage of those notes would grant the archivist of same, eventual informational power.

And that was that.