Chapter Fourteen

Chapter 152,805 wordsCompleted

Offred descends the stairs after the bell rings and enters the sitting‑room, noting the precise arrangement of furniture, red‑shod feet, velvet drapes, Chinese rug, two dark‑dressed women’s paintings, an oval mirror with candlesticks, dried‑flower arrangements, and the lingering scent of lemon oil and Serena Joy’s lily‑of‑the‑valley perfume. She imagines stealing a small object—an ashtray, silver pillbox, or dried flower—but restrains herself. She sits kneeling before the chair where Serena Joy will soon sit, feeling the weight of the ceremony’s protocol.

Cora arrives first, followed by Rita, both wiping their hands on aprons and sighing at the summons. Nick enters, stands directly behind Offoff, his boot toe touching her foot; he shifts his foot repeatedly, prompting an uneasy awareness of their contact. Serena Joy enters hobbled, in a sky‑blue dress with white embroidery, lowers herself onto the footstool, lights a cigarette, and clicks a lighter. She commands the television, which switches to a male choir singing “Come to the Church in the Wildwood,” then to a garbled satellite feed, and finally to a news broadcast.

The news shows aerial footage of forested hills, helicopters, a prisoner being given a cigarette by an “Angel,” and an announcer’s voice describing battles in the Appalachian Highlands, the “Angels of the Apocalypse” versus Baptist guerillas. A calm anchorman assures viewers that peace will come. The report then declares that an underground “Eyes” network has been broken, five Quakers arrested, and that “Resettlement of the Children of Ham” continues, with three thousand children arriving that week at “National Homeland One” in North Dakota. Serena Joy, impatient, changes the channel to a baritone singing “Whispering Hope” and turns it off.

Offred watches the broadcast, feeling both hypnotized and skeptical, noting the propaganda’s selective victories and the soothing tone of the anchorman. She reflects on her own powerlessness and the illusion of belief.

The narrative then shifts to a flashback of a Saturday morning escape. Offred and Luke sit in a car with their dead daughter’s doll‑filled back seat and a picnic basket. They have forged passports, a stamp collection, and grandmother’s jewellery to barter for money. Their plan is to drive north, stop at a checkpoint where Luke shows the licence, then continue to the border, where they will give the child a sleeping pill so she remains unconscious. They aim to cross into Canada, hide in a motel or roadside, and eventually reach “National Homeland One.” Offred describes the oppressive heat, her pale, translucent feeling, Luke’s reassurances, and their tense awareness of surveillance while driving toward the border.