The Testaments(74)

It was wonderful to sleep in a real bed instead of under a bridge. I missed Garth though.

Each night I was inside that bedroom, they locked my door. And they took care that during my waking hours I was never alone.



* * *



—

The next couple of days were spent in getting my Aunt Dove papers ready. I had my picture and fingerprints taken so they could make me a passport. The passport was certified at the Gilead Embassy in Ottawa, then sent back to the Consulate by special courier. They’d put in Aunt Dove’s identifying numbers, but with my picture and physical data, and they’d even infiltrated the Canadian immigration database where Aunt Dove had been recorded coming in, removed the real Aunt Dove from it temporarily, and posted my own data plus my iris scan and thumbprint.

“We have many friends inside the Canadian government infrastructure,” said Aunt Beatrice. “You’d be amazed.”

“So many well-wishers,” said Aunt Dove. Then both of them said, “Praise be.”

They’d put an embossed stamp on one of the pages that said PEARL GIRL. That meant I would be let into Gilead immediately, no questions asked: it was like being a diplomat, said Aunt Beatrice.

Now I was Aunt Dove, but a different Aunt Dove. I had a Pearl Girls Missionary Temporary Canadian Visa that I had to give back to the border authorities when exiting. It was simple, said Aunt Beatrice.

“Look down a lot when we’re going through,” said Aunt Dove. “It hides the features. Anyway it’s the modest thing to do.”



* * *



—

Aunt Beatrice and I were driven to the airport in a black Gilead government car, and I passed border control with no trouble. We didn’t even get body-searched.

The plane was a private jet. It had an eye with wings on it. It was silver, but it looked dark to me—like a huge dark bird, waiting to fly me where? Into a blank. Ada and Elijah had tried to teach me as much as possible about Gilead; I’d seen the documentaries and the TV footage; but I still could not picture what might be waiting for me there. I didn’t feel ready for this at all.

I remembered SanctuCare, and the women refugees. I’d looked at them but I hadn’t really seen them. I hadn’t considered what it was like to leave a place you knew, and lose everything, and travel into the unknown. How hollow and dark that must feel, except for maybe the little glimmer of hope that had allowed you to take such a chance.

Very soon I, too, was going to feel like that. I would be in a dark place, carrying a tiny spark of light, trying to find my way.





45


We were late taking off, and I worried that I had been found out and we would be stopped after all. But once we were in the air, I felt lighter. I’d never been in a plane before—I was very excited at first. But it clouded over, and the view became monotonous. I must have gone to sleep, because soon Aunt Beatrice was nudging me gently and saying, “We’re almost there.”

I looked out the little window. The plane was flying lower, and I could see some pretty-looking buildings down below, with spires and towers, and a winding river, and the sea.

Then the plane landed. We went down a set of steps they lowered from the door. It was hot and dry, with a wind blowing; our long silvery skirts were pushed against our legs. Standing on the tarmac there was a double line of men in black uniforms, and we walked between the lines, arm in arm. “Don’t look at their faces,” she whispered.

So I focused on their uniforms, but I could sense eyes, eyes, eyes, all over me like hands. I’d never felt so much at risk in that way—not even under the bridge with Garth, and with strangers all around.

Then all these men saluted. “What is this?” I murmured to Aunt Beatrice. “Why are they saluting?”

“Because my mission was successful,” said Aunt Beatrice. “I brought back a precious Pearl. That’s you.”



* * *



—

We were taken to a black car and driven into the city. There weren’t very many people on the street, and the women all had those long dresses in different colours just like in the documentaries. I even saw some Handmaids walking two by two. There was no lettering on the stores—only pictures on the signs. A boot, a fish, a tooth.

The car paused in front of a gate in a brick wall. We were waved through by two guards. The car went in and stopped, and they opened the doors for us. We got out, and Aunt Beatrice linked her arm through mine and said, “There isn’t time to show you where you’ll sleep, the plane was too late. We need to go straight to the chapel, for the Thanks Giving. Just do what I say.”

I knew this would be some kind of ceremony about the Pearl Girls—Ada had warned me about it, Aunt Dove had explained it to me—but I hadn’t paid close attention so I didn’t really know what to expect.

We went into the chapel. It was already full: older women in the brown uniforms of the Aunts, younger ones in Pearl Girls dresses. Each Pearl Girl had a girl around my age with her, also in a temporary silver dress like me. Right up at the front there was a big gold-framed Baby Nicole picture, which did not cheer me up at all.

As Aunt Beatrice steered me down the aisle, everyone was singing:

    Bringing in the Pearls,

Bringing in the Pearls,

We will come rejoicing,