Chapter Thirty-Seven

Chapter 372,486 wordsCompleted

The Commander leads Offred through a mushroom‑coloured carpeted corridor, past a soft‑lit, mushroom‑hued hallway, into a central courtyard with a skylight, fountain shaped like a dandelion seed, and glass elevators that move like molluscs. He tells her it is now a “club” for officers, senior officials, and trade delegations—a place where men and women mingle outside the strict rules of Gilead. The space is filled with women in an eclectic mix of bright, festive outfits—feathers, lingerie, swimsuits, cheerleader skirts, jogging gear, and more—contrasted with men in dark uniforms who form a background. Offred notes the women’s “tropical” appearance and reflects on how the regime’s creed denies their existence.

The Commander explains the club’s purpose: to facilitate trade, gather information, and provide “working girls” from the pre‑Gilead era. He mentions specific women—a former sociologist, a lawyer, a business executive—highlighting their varied backgrounds. He offers Offred a drink; she requests a weak gin and tonic, which he brings while kissing her palm. He then moves toward the bar.

Near the fountain, Offred spots Moira in a shabby black satin rabbit‑themed costume, complete with ears, a tail, and a makeshift sanitary‑pad “tail.” Moira exchanges a cigarette with another woman, watches Offred, and gives a subtle head‑jerk signal—a secret signal they have used before—implying a planned meeting in the women’s washroom. Moira then turns away and disappears toward an elevator.

The Commander returns with two drinks, places them on a black coffee table, and asks if she is enjoying herself. Offred asks for the location of a washroom. The Commander points vaguely, tells her to show her tag if anyone questions her, and dismisses her with a smile. Offred rises, unsteady in high heels, and makes her way toward the fountain, holding her tag outward as men stare. She wobbles, almost falls, but proceeds, uncertain whether she will reach the restroom in time. The scene ends with her precariously navigating the club while the Commander watches, underscoring her limited agency and the ever‑present threat of exposure.