Chapter Six
After leaving the market district of All Flesh, June and her Handmaid partner Ofglen pause near the Wall. Ofglen insists on taking the longer route “by the church,” a habit they both know they will follow. The two walk slowly, noting the limited view of the sky through their blinkers. They pass a street that would lead to the river, a boathouse, old dormitories with painted turrets, and the football stadium where “Men’s Salvagings” are still held, but they do not enter any of these places. They arrive at a small, centuries‑old church that is now used only as a museum. They do not go inside; instead they stand on the path in the churchyard, looking at weather‑worn gravestones, skulls, winged hourglasses, later‑era urns and willow trees. Ofglen bows her head as if praying, a gesture June interprets as a performance rather than genuine devotion. Continuing onward, they come to the Wall—a red‑brick barrier fitted with modern floodlights, barbed wire, broken glass and electronic alarms, guarded by sentries. Beside the main gate six bodies hang from hooks. Each man wears a white coat and a placard with a fetal drawing indicating the reason for execution; they are former doctors or scientists. The heads are covered by white bags, one of which is stained with blood that forms a child‑like smile. June describes the scene in graphic detail, noting the emptiness of the heads, the cruelty of the display, and the symbolic “zero” quality of the faces. She feels a blankness and a small relief that none of the bodies are her husband Luke. She senses a tremor in Ofglen, wonders if she is crying, clasps her basket tightly, and recalls Aunt Lydia’s teaching that what seems extraordinary will become “ordinary” with time.