I was still smiling as I sat blindfolded, bound, and gagged on the ride back to the Coles' house. The crowd had been quickly dispersed after Jade's death. She had been carried away on a stretcher under a white cloth, but her blood had soaked through it instantly. The other six Handmaids had been left on their poles, like macabre puppets with their strings cut. I couldn't tell you exactly why I smiled. I knew I wasn't supposed to. An hour ago my friend died a slow, agonizing death. It was the worst thing I'd ever seen. That made me want to laugh. But I mustn't laugh. Why did I want to?
A blow struck my face with enough force to knock my head against the metal of the van and for stars to flash in the dark of my eyelids.
"How dare you laugh at such a tragedy. You foul, demonic Jezebel!"
I recognized the voice of one of the Aunts from the Red Center, but I couldn't remember her name. I tasted blood, but the laughter continued. I couldn't make it stop.
"You won't be laughing for long," the Aunt spat. "As soon as that child is freed from your rotten womb, you'll die just as they did and you will spend an eternity in Hell regretting your evil ways. Your Commander recommended a public vivisection. I do hope the Council approves it, even though the Handmaids won't be able to atone through their participation. You deserve the worst sort of death."
I laughed so hard tears stained my blindfold. I couldn't breathe. The Aunt quickly gave up her diatribe. Perhaps the laughter scared her like it scared me.
Hours later, I had stopped laughing and crying. I was numb again. Sane. A guard had removed the blindfold and gag as soon as I was chained in my cell. He left the light on this time. Perhaps the Commander had cared more about the sanity of his plaything more than he'd claimed. More likely he was worried about the safety of "his" unborn child trapped in the womb of an insane woman. Maybe Mrs. Cole was worried her precious Birth Ceremony would be ruined if her Handmaid laughed and raved. The reason didn't matter, the result was the same.
There wasn't much to say about the room. Boring beige walls, a metal table out of my reach, a camera with a little red light in the far corner. It was a precious gift compared to the darkness of before. I hardly cared when the Commander came and had his way with me, even rougher than usual in his anger at the day's events. The death of a pregnant Handmaid because of his failure to control his own made him look bad, he said.
It was easier to keep track of time, now that the lights turned on and off to mark the passing of days. Aunts, doctors, Maria and the Commander came and went, each poking and prodding me. It wouldn't be much longer before they killed me, I could feel it though they didn't speak to me. The baby's head pressed painfully against my cervix and my lower back tightened with contractions. There wouldn't be much time after the birth to secure my baby's escape, but I had to do something. There was no point in planning for myself, it was far too late for me. Realistically, I knew it was too late for the baby too, but I couldn't let myself die without doing everything in my non-existent power to save him or her.
—-
I pressed my cheek to the cold floor as a burning cramp wracked my body in a vice-like grip. I imagined Aunt Claire leading Handmaids in a chant: inhale, inhale, inhale. The cold air was a balm against my feverish skin. Hold, hold, hold. It was hard to tell with nothing to judge time with but meals, but this interval between pains felt shorter than the last. Exhale, exhale, exhale. The pain faded.
I counted to 288 before the next cramp began. Five minutes since the last. I couldn't say for sure how long this had been going on. The pains had first come around lunch, but had been far apart and more uncomfortable than painful. Dinner came and went with the cramps getting stronger and closer together. My stomach growled between the cramps, so morning must not be far off.
I crawled to the door and banged as loud as I could. "Help! Somebody help me! The baby is coming!"
The floor outside creaked as a Guardian walked away. Hopefully they'd call an Aunt or a Martha. Then at least I'd be let out for a bit even for a false labor. After what felt like a few minutes, the floor creaked again and the lock clicked open.
As soon as my eyes adjusted to the bright light of the hall, I skittered back. It wasn't a Martha, but the Commander.
"I heard our fun together is coming to an end," he drawled as he stepped inside.
I flinched again when he turned the closet light on before shutting us in. I debated screaming for help again, then dismissed the notion. It didn't matter who knew. No one would dare stop him, not even the Aunts.
"Please," I swallowed, my mouth suddenly dry. "Don't do this. Not now. Please just call the Aunts, you could hurt the baby. I beg you."
He lifted my chin and placed a papery soft kiss on my lips.
"I like it when you beg. Do it again."
Hot tears dribbled down my cheeks. I shook my head. "Please."
But the Commander was already stripping. He stepped towards me as I backed away, right until I hit the wall. I sunk against the corner and he placed his hands on my thighs. Just as he did so, a contraction ripped through me, stronger than any before. An involuntary hiss escaped my lips.
The Commander made a sound of pleasure and thrust deep into me. For once he was instantly hard. I yelped in pain as he slammed again and again into my swollen cervix. His dick butted against where the baby's head pressed against me. My vision flashed white.
My yelp was cut short by his tongue shoving down my throat. His gut crushed against my taught stomach. I couldn't breathe.
I bucked against him in an attempt to dislodge him. He came inside me instead.
"Isn't this more fun than pretending?" He teased. He yanked on a bit of my hair as the contraction passed. What little air had been left in my lungs was knocked out as the muscles loosened.
"Get…off," I wheezed. My vision was going blurry.
He rolled to his side and I gasped greedily for air.
"You've had your fun. Now please, call the Aunts."
"Had it? Oh no, Sweetheart, the fun is just beginning." He grinned maliciously before pouncing on me again.
He had impeccable timing for contractions, it seemed. Just as they emerged he would shove himself into me with crushing force. I grit my teeth to keep from screaming, it only encouraged him. He pulled at my hair, clumps of it ripping free of my scalp. His nails dug into my arms, leaving bloody crescents. His teeth tore at my hypersensitive breasts, causing them to bleed as well. Five, ten, twenty I lost count of how many contractions passed this way. The part of me that wandered in between wondered how many Viagras he'd popped for this. It was the only explanation for his sudden virility.
I pushed myself off the floor and braced myself against the wall, gasping and shaking. I could feel bruises forming on my thighs, back, and stomach. Blood stained my stockings, the scarlet stark against the starch white. Commander Cole lazily raked his eyes over me. His semen dribbled down my leg.
Another contraction caused my knees to buckle. I heard a sound, but I couldn't place it until the peak had passed: the splash of water. The Commander and I made eye contact. His lip curled as looked at the floor between my legs. Slowly, I followed his gaze to the small puddle of clear fluid soaking through my stockings. I hadn't realized I was positioned right over his shoes which were now ruined.
"My water broke," I said numbly.
The Commander huffed, pushing himself to his feet and dressing. "At least I got a good ride out of you while it lasted. Pity it didn't take longer."
He closed the door behind him and turned the light off. I banged on the door, cursing him as loud as I could. It didn't take long for the door to open again, this time to my relief, it was Anne.
She avoided looking at me as she took my arm. I collapsed against her and immediately burst into tears.
She patted my shoulder gently. "I'm sorry. I wish I could stop him, you know I do. It'll all be over soon."
She nudged me towards the door, supporting most of my weight as my under-used legs threatened to betray me.
"Come, let's get you cleaned up before everyone arrives."
Anne helped me wash and dress while below the house bustled with activity like a freshly kicked ant mound. Everything had taken on a surreal, foreign quality now, after so long in that beige cell. Mrs. Jennings shouted orders at the Marthas hastily borrowed from the neighbors while trying to simultaneously console her daughter in the midst of pretend contractions. The cooking for the birthday feast was already well underway. The smell of baking pastries wafted up the stairs which made my mouth water and stomach ache. I'd missed breakfast thanks to the Commander.
Anne sat with me in my bedroom while we waited. She kept a protective hand on my back.
"Anne, there are strangers in your kitchen," I said teasingly.
She gave me a side eye. "Your point?"
"You aren't chasing them out with a butcher's knife. Where's the Anne we all know and love?"
She rolled her eyes and muttered something at the ceiling. "You are more important than some blasted croissant. I doubt they'll manage to blow up my kitchen before the Aunts arrive. Until then I'm staying with you."
My eyes welled with unexpected tears. "Thanks. That means a lot."
The doorbell rang and Mrs. Jennings' voice called out from downstairs. "Oh Aunt Elizabeth, how wonderful to see you! My daughter is this way and is in such distress, please come see her."
"See to her yourself. I'm here to deliver a baby, not cater to a hysterical woman's whims. Where's the Handmaid?"
Anne snorted. Aunt Elizabeth marched into the room without so much as a knock, one hand on her hip, the other clutching her bag.
"What are you doing there girl? You should be in the Wife's room. Come, up you get. That's it. Martha, go attend to your duties, I don't need someone breathing down my neck while there's work to be done."
Anne's fist clenched but she did as she was told, shooting me an apologetic glance on the way out. Aunt Elizabeth scarcely waited to see if I followed before heading upstairs. I nearly fell halfway when a contraction came, earning me a scowl from Aunt Elizabeth.
"Don't be so dramatic girl, it'll get a whole lot worse than this before the day's end."
I leaned against the wardrobe as we waited for the Handmaids. My legs struggled to support my weight. Fortunately, we didn't have to wait long. Aunt Claire arrived with a stern expression. "It is truly a blessed and glorious day." Her apathetic tone undermined her words. "May God see our faith and prove you fruitful."
A sea of red poured into the dusty blue room. I was greeted with stony glares and cold silence, a sharp contrast to the bubbly excitement present at most births. It was clear that while I had not been publically accused of treachery, they all knew I was to blame for the death of seven sisters. I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding when I finally spotted Jenna in the crowd. She wrapped me in a hug.
"Everet's still alive. Don't give up hope, we'll figure something out," she whispered.
I kept my face neutral, despite the stubborn bit of hope that bubbled in my chest. Someone set the step stool and Jenna helped me into the bed which had been unmade and propped with pillows. Around me, Handmaids kept in fluid motion setting up the birthing chair, towels, bowls of water. A Martha distributed punch. I chuckled as I remembered the last few birthdays, but was cut off by a spike of pain.
"Inhale, inhale, inhale," the chant started. I clung to it like a lifeline.
"Let's see how far along you are, shall we?" Aunt Elizabeth said once the contraction had passed, thrusting her hand up into my already brutalized body.
I winced as she felt around inside me.
"Five centimeters dilated. You've got a ways to go. You sure are a dramatic one, you had me convinced you were at least 8."
"Only 5? But I've been in labor since noon yesterday!" I exclaimed.
Aunt Elizabeth looked unimpressed as she replied. "It's your first time, it usually takes awhile. If you are lucky the baby will be here before sunset.
I collapsed against the pillows and squeezed my eyes shut. A tear ran down my face. Sunset. If I was lucky. I couldn't last until sunset. I could hardly take it now.
A cool washcloth was pressed against my forehead. A finger brushed the tear on my cheek away.
"Hey, listen to me." It took me a moment to place the voice. Molly, one of the neighboring Handmaids. The one who was always smiling. Why was she still smiling after all I'd done? "Listen to me. You've got this, you are so strong right now. Tonight you'll get to hold your baby."
If I was lucky. Hadn't we all said the same thing to Jenna before her son was born dead? And what if the baby was a shredder? They would be taken away and God knows what would happen to them. Even if the baby was healthy, would I even be able to hold him or her?
I thought these things and more tears threatened to spill past my eyelids. I couldn't bring myself to voice them only to be given false reassurance that everything would be alright. Instead, I forced myself to open my eyes and smile at her.
Something was wrong. The hours dragged on, sunset came and went. Another pregnant Handmaid had been escorted from the room to rest, the others sat on the ground, a few dozing. The contractions were close together, only a couple minutes and they lasted about as long as the gap between them. I was drenched in sweat, every muscle shook with exhaustion, but Aunt Elizabeth said again and again that it wasn't time yet. Twice now had a Wife come in asking what was taking so long, and when would it be time to push, only to be turned away. The Handmaids left for meals in shifts. That hadn't been necessary at any of the other births I'd attended.
I knelt on the floor with Aunt Claire holding me upright with her embrace. A contraction like rings of barbed wire pulling tight enough to shred my organs returned. I moaned into her shoulder, my legs trembled. Someone opened the bedroom door, and the smell of steak cooking down below wafted in. My mouth prickled and my stomach churned, then I promptly vomited into the basin next to me.
Two sets of arms hoisted me into the bed as another contraction tore through me.
"Taking too long…not progressing…danger,"
"Exhale, exhale, exhale."
In the lull between agonies, I cracked open my eyes. My heart dropped like a lead weight into my stomach. A man in a black coat was in the room.
"Wh-what…is…happening?" I panted to Jenna. She shifted on the bed so her back aligned with the man, blocking him from view.
"Don't worry, it's nothing. Just breathe, you're almost there."
Both Aunt Elizabeth and Aunt Claire, along with a third were speaking with the man. He had a black bag in hand. The Aunts glanced back at me then leaned in further.
"Something's wrong," I choked out. Jenna shushed me.
I shook my head. She held me close.
"I need you to promise me something," I panted.
"What?"
"They are going to have me executed after this. It's too late for me. If the baby survives, you and Everet must get the baby out of Gilead. It doesn't matter what it takes. Tell Everet our child doesn't deserve to live with the consequences of our actions. Promise me."
Jenna winced, then schooled her face into neutrality. "I promise."
Aunt Elizabeth was back. She smoothed my hair out of my face. The last few hours had seen her go from cold business to tenderness. That scared me.
"Just breathe, everything is fine. We just want to make sure the baby is doing alright. The doctor is going to examine you, just breathe."
I gasped as a cold stethoscope was pressed into my abdomen. He checked blood pressure, temperature, and dilation. He whispered something to Aunt Elizabeth.
"Good news, everything is alright. The baby is doing just fine. The doctor is going to set up an IV here which will help move things along."
"Inhale, inhale, inhale."
I didn't notice the IV being set up or stuck in my arm. I may have blacked out.
The doctor stayed in the room after that. Another Aunt was called in to replace Aunt Elizabeth, but Aunt Claire stayed faithfully by my side, never leaving even to eat.
Something shifted inside me, a heavy weight locking into place deep between my hips. Electric pain ran up my spine. A scream echoed through the room. The pain didn't let up. I couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't see. There was nothing but the pain for a timeless place. I couldn't do it, I was going to die and the pain would follow me even there.
The pressure became unbearable, then my body shifted again, my insides shoving themselves out of my body.
"Tell the Wives it is time!" The new Aunt said. As the pain faded at last, I was aware of the room springing into motion once more. The IV was removed and I was helped-nearly carried-to the double-seated birthing chair in the center of the room. Handmaids were woken and brought from the other rooms, chatter filled the air.
A wail came from the stairwell, followed by a wave of blue dresses of all shades pouring in. Mrs. Cole looked perfect in her crisp white gown, dry and unstained. Mine was nearly see-through except for the blood and other fluids coloring it. Her brunette and gray hair was down from its bun, curling neatly down her back, perfectly styled and pinned away from her face.
She wailed again, leaning on her mother and another Wife for support.
I needed to push, I groaned. She cried louder.
Aunt Claire murmured in my ear. "Don't push yet. Mrs. Cole needs to get in position."
I glared at her and pushed anyway. I wasn't in control of it, the pressure demanded it.
She was led to the chair, her slippered feet resting on a cushion by each of my elbows. My head rested near her crotch like it had nine months before.
"Push, push, push!" The chant rang out.
I bore down, the pressure increasing. The noise faded in the room. No sound, no light, no time.
The contraction ended, and it all returned at once. Again, again, again. The sun rose. Light shone into the room. Breakfast scones were distributed to the wives.
It burned, burned like fire between my legs. I screamed.
"It's crowning!"
"Breathe, breathe, breathe and push, push, push!"
I bore down with all my strength and the flames grew. Again and again, I pushed, the agony peaked, and then…
Mrs. Cole's foot wasn't touching me anymore. Everything was red. Then I heard it, a timorous cry. I searched above me for a face and found Jenna beaming at me, tears running freely down her face. She cupped mine in her hands.
"You did it."
"This is a blessed day indeed!" Aunt Claire cried.
I craned my neck, trying to find a gap in the wall of red. Jenna coughed pointedly and a small gap appeared. Mrs. Cole was on the bed, propped by a throne of pillows and surrounded by a court of Wives. And there, nestled between her arms, was a baby in a blanket. A baby. My baby.
"What…what is it?" I asked timidly.
Aunt Claire beamed as she announced "a beautiful, healthy baby boy."
I grinned as I was buried by the hugs of my sisters. Their hatred forgotten. Many were crying, I was too.
My grin turned into a wince. The afterbirth contractions had begun. I grunted as the pressure mounted. Aunt Elizabeth rubbed my back.
"Take a deep breath, these ones aren't as bad and they'll stop soon enough."
It wasn't fading though, the pressure was only growing, just as painful as before. I bore down on the pain, gritting my teeth.
Someone gasped. "Aunt Elizabeth, there's a foot!"
"A what?" Aunt Elizabeth crouched in front of me, pushing my legs further apart.
The blood drained from her face. "There's another baby, and it's breach. Push girl, push! We need to get it out now!"
"What is happening?" Mrs. Cole demanded. She shoved my son into Mrs. Jennings' arms and rushed over. I heard her body thump to the ground. The room filled with noise once again.
I mustered what little strength I had left and pushed. My body screamed in protest, but I couldn't relent. I could not say how long it was before the second child slid into Aunt Elizabeth's waiting hands. It felt like an eternity. Another Handmaid pushed up against my chin, tilting my head to the ceiling to prevent me from seeing the baby.
There was no cry as the baby was born, only a pent-up silence. I pictured Jenna's still, lifeless, and discolored baby. I couldn't breathe. So much like Jenna's son. Aunt Elizabeth begged for the baby to cry. No no no no no-
A hiccuping wail ended my suffering. The collective breath held was released and congratulations were exchanged. I sobbed with relief and then heartbreak as the baby was whisked out of my sight and into the arms of Mrs. Cole, who was being revived from a faint by her mother.
"Twins!" Aunt Claire proclaimed. "God has blessed us today greater than we could have imagined! A healthy boy and girl both! Praise be His mercy!"
A chorus of "praise be" filled the room.
Molly put her hand on my shoulder and smiled down at me. "They're perfect. Absolutely perfect."
Jenna was standing apart from the commotion now. I tried to catch her eye, but she didn't look my way before slipping out unnoticed by everyone else.
Commander Cole was led into the room by a glowing Anne. He pushed his way through the throng of women and planted a long kiss on his wife's lips. He sat beside her on the bed, eyes shifting in disbelief between the two babies in her arms. He did not spare a glance for me.
"What are their names?" A Wife asked.
Mrs. Cole shifted herself primly on the bed, as if she hadn't just fainted. "Margaret for the girl, after my mother. For the boy, to honor his father his name is…" she looked lovingly at Commander Cole. "Martin."