Маргарет Этвуд - The Testaments

Aunt Helena hurried back from her visit to Doorway C, giddy with the excitement of her discovery: the girl Jade had eloped. “With a plumber named Garth,” Aunt Helena added. “She claims to be in love.”

“That is unfortunate,” I said. “We shall have to locate the pair, administer a reprimand, and make sure that the marriage has been properly performed. But Jade is very uncouth; she would not have made a reputable Aunt. Look on the bright side: the population of Gilead may well be augmented by this union.”

“But how could she have met such a plumber?” said Aunt Elizabeth.

“There was a complaint about a lack of bathwater this morning from Doorway A,” I said. “They must have called in the plumber. Clearly it was love at first sight. Young people are impetuous.”

“No one in the Hall is supposed to take baths in the morning,” said Aunt Elizabeth. “Unless someone has been breaking the rules.”

“That is not out of the question, unfortunately,” I said. “The flesh is weak.”

“Oh yes, so weak,” Aunt Helena agreed. “But how did she get out through the gate? She doesn’t have a pass, it wouldn’t have been allowed.”

“Girls of that age are very agile,” I said. “I expect she climbed over the Wall.”

We continued with lunch—dry sandwiches and something ruinous that had been done to tomatoes, and a dessert of runny blancmange—and by the end of our humble meal the girl Jade’s premature flight, her acrobatic feat of Wall-climbing, and her headstrong choice to fulfill her womanly destiny in the arms of an enterprising Economan plumber were general knowledge among us.

We pulled up beside the ship. On the deck were three shadows; a flashlight shone briefly. We climbed up the rope ladder.

“Sit on the edge, swing your feet over,” said a voice. Someone took my arm. Then we were standing on the deck.

“Captain Mishimengo,” said the voice. “Let’s get you inside.” There was a low hum and I felt the ship moving.

We went into a little cabin with blackout curtains on the windows and some controls and what was likely a ship’s radar, though I didn’t have a chance to look at it closely.

“Glad you made it,” said Captain Mishimengo. He shook our hands; he had two fingers missing. He was stocky, about sixty, with tanned skin and a short black beard. “Now here’s our story, supposing you’re asked: this is a cod schooner, solar, with fuel backup. Flag of convenience is Lebanon. We’ve delivered a cargo of cod and lemons by special licence, which means the grey market, and now we’re heading back out. You’ll need to stay out of sight during the day: I heard from my contact, via Bert who dropped you at the dock, that they’re bound to be looking for you soon. There’s a place for you to sleep, in the hold. If there’s an inspection, coast guard, it won’t be thorough, it’s guys we know.” He rubbed his fingers together, which I knew meant money.

“Have you got any food?” I asked. “We haven’t eaten much all day.”

“Right,” he said. He told us to wait there and came back with a couple mugs of tea and some sandwiches. They were cheese, but it wasn’t Gilead cheese, it was real cheese: goat cheese with chives, a kind Melanie had liked.

“Thank you,” said Agnes. I’d started eating but I mumbled thanks with my mouth full.

“Your friend Ada says hello, and see you soon,” Captain Mishimengo said to me.

I swallowed. “How do you know Ada?”

He laughed. “Everyone’s related. Around here, anyways. We used to go deer-hunting in Nova Scotia together, back in the day.”

We reached our sleeping place by going down a ladder. Captain Mishimengo went first, turning on the lights. There were some freezers in the hold, and some big oblong metal boxes. On the side of one of the boxes was a hinged flap, and inside were two sleeping bags that didn’t look very clean: I guess we weren’t the first people to use them. The whole place smelled of fish.

“You can keep the box door open as long as there’s no problems,” said Captain Mishimengo. “Sleep tight, don’t let the bugs bite.” We heard his steps receding.

“This is kind of awful,” I whispered to Agnes. “The fish smell. These sleeping bags. I bet they have lice.”

“We should be grateful,” she said. “Let’s go to sleep.”

My GOD/LOVE tattoo was bothering me, and I had to lie on my right side to avoid squashing it. I wondered if I had blood poisoning. If so, I was in trouble because there was definitely not a doctor on board.

We woke up when it was still dark because the ship was rocking. Agnes climbed out of our metal box and went up the ladder to see what was happening. I wanted to go too but I really wasn’t feeling well.

She came back down with a thermos of tea and two hard-boiled eggs. We’d reached the ocean, she said, and the waves were rocking the ship. She’d never imagined waves that big, though Captain Mishimengo said they were nothing much.

“Oh God,” I said. “I hope they won’t get any bigger. I hate throwing up.”

“Please do not use the name of God as a casual swear word,” she said.

“Sorry,” I said. “But if you don’t mind me saying, supposing there is a God, he has totally effed up my life.”

I thought she’d get angry then, but all she said was, “You are not unique in the universe. No one has an easy time in life. But maybe God has effed up—as you put it—your life for a reason.”

“And I can hardly fucking wait to find out what that is,” I said. The pain in my arm was making me very irritable. I shouldn’t have been so sarcastic, and I shouldn’t have sworn at her.

“But I thought you grasped the true goal of our mission,” she said. “The salvation of Gilead. The purification. The renewal. That is the reason.”

“You think that festering shitheap can be renewed?” I said. “Burn it all down!”

“Why would you want to harm so many people?” she asked gently. “It’s my country. It’s where I grew up. It’s being ruined by the leaders. I want it to be better.”

“Yeah, okay,” I said. “I get it. Sorry. I didn’t mean you. You’re my sister.”

“I accept your apology,” she said. “Thank you for understanding.”

We sat in the dark silence for a few minutes. I could hear her breathing, and a few sighs.

“You think this is going to work?” I asked finally. “Will we get there?”

“It’s not in our hands,” she said.

By the beginning of our second day, I was very worried about Nicole. She claimed she wasn’t ill, but she had a fever. I recalled what we’d been taught at Ardua Hall about caring for the sick, and I attempted to keep her hydrated. There were some lemons on board, and I was able to mix some of their juice with tea and salt and a little sugar. I was finding it easier now to go up and down the ladder that led to our sleeping quarters, and reflected that it would have been much harder in a long skirt.

It was quite foggy. We were still in Gileadean waters, and around noon there was a coast guard inspection. Nicole and I shut the door of our metal box from the inside. She took hold of my hand and I squeezed it hard, and we stayed absolutely quiet. We heard footsteps tramping around, and voices, but the sounds dwindled and my heart stopped beating so quickly.