Page 11 of The Women of Oak Ridge

DAYS TURNED INTO WEEKS. Weeks turned into months.

By the end of September, I felt like an old-timer at CEW, especially when new, wide-eyed employees arrived, which happened on a regular basis. I’d become used to mud, buses, and long lines, but I’d also experienced more fun than I ever had in Kentucky.

Sissy and I joined a bowling league, played bridge in the recreation room, and saw two movies I’d heard about but hadn’t had the opportunity or the money to see back home.

There were dances at the tennis court or one of the rec centers, sporting games to attend, Sunday church services at Chapel on the Hill, and gab sessions in the dormitory after curfew with girls who’d quickly become friends.

The first day we visited the community swimming pool, a young photographer—Ed Westcott, the only person authorized to document life in Oak Ridge through photographs—asked permission to take our picture.

We felt like movie stars as we posed beside the pool’s edge.

Life on the Reservation suited me just fine.

A maintenance request came in after lunch.

Although there were other clerical girls employed at the shop, I was the only one currently in the office.

A large compressor on the second level required repairs.

I loaded the basket on my bike with tools the crew may not have in their tool kits and arrived to find a group of men gathered around the gigantic machine.

Three employees from the maintenance crew were adamant about what the problem was, but another young man I didn’t recognize calmly disagreed.

While I waited, I noticed the fellow doing the talking wore trousers and a white short-sleeved button-down shirt like the guys I’d seen in the control room upstairs.

Most of the maintenance crew and other employees who worked on the plant floor opted to wear coveralls, since much of what they did every day required getting their hands dirty.

Wearing regular street clothes was only done by those whose jobs kept them away from grease and grime.

The argument ended when a supervisor arrived. Much to the obvious chagrin of the maintenance crew, he agreed with the young man. I saw frustration in their eyes as they unloaded my basket, adding the tools I’d brought to those they already had, and got to work.

The young man stepped away to let them do their job.

When he glanced at me, he smiled. “Hi. I’m Garlyn Young.” He stuck out his hand.

I offered mine. “Maebelle Willett.”

He nodded as we shook hands. “I know. I’ve seen you around.”

When my brow rose, he hurried to add, “Your boss, Mr. Colby, and I work together sometimes. He mentioned your name.”

An awkward silence sat between us. I couldn’t escape, since I had to wait in case the repair crew needed additional tools or something from the maintenance shop. Garlyn didn’t appear to be in a hurry to leave either.

“How long have you been in Oak Ridge?” he asked after a time.

“I arrived a few months ago. You?”

A wry grin inched up his face. “I arrived last year.”

“Wow, you’re really an old-timer.”

He chuckled. “That I am.”

The crew boss asked me to retrieve some parts from the shop, so I moved in the direction of where I’d parked my bicycle.

Garlyn followed. “May I ask you a question?”

“That depends.” I glanced at him. “If you want to know what I do at K-25, what we make here, or how many people are employed at CEW, then the answer is no.”

That made him laugh. “Your secrets are safe. I was wondering if you’d like to have dinner with me tonight. We could go to the snack bar in town. Have you tried their milkshakes yet?”

My mouth fairly watered at the mention of the sweet treat, but I was determined not to form any romantic attachments. When the war ended and I was no longer employed at CEW, I would return to Kentucky.

Sissy, on the other hand, had gone on a number of dates with Clive Morrison.

His job gave him access to an Army sedan, making him one of the few people we knew with a vehicle.

She said they’d park near the river and talk for hours.

Although she didn’t gush about the young man, I could tell she was smitten.

I’d only met Clive once, but there was something about his demeanor that felt phony to me.

Like he was putting on airs, wanting to impress people, which seemed silly.

We lived in a secret city in the hills of East Tennessee.

No one cared what school you graduated from or how far back your lineage went.

But Garlyn Young seemed polite and obviously had a good position at K-25. He was also nice-looking, with sandy-colored hair and warm brown eyes. Maybe I should consider—

“Get going, Willett,” the crew boss bellowed.

I startled.

Turning, I found his angry glare aimed at me. “Yes, sir.”

I hurried to climb onto the bicycle, embarrassed. When I peeked at Garlyn, his scowl was directed at the other man, not at me.

He moved alongside me as I began to pedal. “Dinner?” he said, his voice lowered.

I nodded and whispered, “Yes, I’ll have dinner with you.”

He grinned as I pedaled away.

By the time I returned with the requested parts, Garlyn was nowhere in sight. I worried how I would find him after my shift ended, but I would have to figure that out later.

The repair wasn’t going well. I sat on the concrete floor to wait it out.

I wished I’d brought The Long Winter with me to fill the time.

I’d borrowed the book by Laura Ingalls Wilder from the Reservation library and found the tale of blizzards, farmwork, and life on the Dakota Territory prairie fascinating.

I couldn’t wait to read what happened next.

“Ma’am?”

I looked up to find the Black woman from the cafeteria a short distance from me. I hadn’t seen her again after that first day and figured she’d been put on a different shift. She carried a big bucket filled with rags and bottles of liquid in one hand and a broom with a dustpan in the other.

I scrambled to my feet. “Yes?”

She gave a polite nod. “I was told to come clean up once the repair is finished.” Her soft voice held a light Southern accent.

I glanced at the crew, who seemed to be wrapping things up. A pool of some type of oil or dirty water spread over the concrete beneath the compressor.

When I faced her again, I introduced myself. “I’m Mae Willett.”

“Pleasure makin’ your acquaintance, Miss Willett. I’m Velvet Maxwell.”

“Velvet. What a lovely name.”

A soft smile lifted her lips. “My mama was a seamstress for a wealthy woman in Montgomery. She took a likin’ to the velvet that woman had a particular fondness for. When I come along, Mama said my skin felt like velvet.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard such a sweet story of how someone got their name.”

“My husband, Roonie, bought me a piece of velvet after Mama passed on to her glory a few years back. I keep a square of it in my pocket and rub its softness when I’m missin’ her.”

“Willett,” the crew boss called, interrupting our conversation. I gave Velvet a look of apology and hurried over.

“Take this to the shop.” He handed me a metal machine part. A long crack ran across its length. Then he glanced at Velvet. “Get over here and get this cleaned up.”

His hard tone didn’t sit well, but I was in no position to chastise him.

As Velvet and I passed each other, I whispered, “It was nice meeting you, Velvet.”

The slight squint of her eyes told me she agreed.

At the end of the day, I clocked out and made my way to the security portal. Garlyn was waiting for me when I arrived.

“I’m really sorry I got you in trouble,” he said after greeting me, his words sincere.

“It’s okay. Mr. Ross doesn’t seem to like any of us office girls.”

“Don’t feel bad. He and some of the other maintenance guys don’t like us engineers either. I guess they think we’re know-it-alls or something.”

“But you were right,” I offered. “The supervisor said the compressor might have blown had the crew not followed your instructions.”

He rammed his hands into his trouser pockets and gave a slight shrug. “I helped build the plant, so I do know what I’m talking about. Most of the time, anyway.”

The bus to Townsite arrived. We shared a seat, with me by the window.

He asked questions about where I was from and what it was like growing up in Kentucky.

After we arrived in town and settled at the snack bar with grilled cheese sandwiches, french fries, and chocolate shakes, I turned the questions around, inquiring about his family.

“I grew up in Scranton, Pennsylvania. Dad worked for the railroad and fought in the Great War. After everything he experienced in Europe, he didn’t want me or my younger brother to join the military.

Instead, he worked like a dog to put William and me through Penn State.

When Japan bombed Pearl Harbor, William quit and became a B-17 pilot. He’s stationed in Italy.”

I couldn’t imagine Harris going off to war. “That must be hard on your parents. I’m sure they’re thankful you took your dad’s advice and didn’t join up.”

An odd expression filled his face. “Well,” he said, dunking two fries in a dollop of ketchup, over and over.

“That’s not exactly true.” He glanced around, as though to make sure no one else was listening.

When he spoke again, it was in a hushed tone.

“I’m in the Army, but I’m part of a group of soldiers called the Special Engineer Detachment. I’ve been assigned to K-25.”

“But you don’t wear a uniform like the other soldiers at CEW.”

“They want us to blend in.” He paused. “What I just told you isn’t necessarily a secret, but like everything else around here, we’re not supposed to talk about what we do. I can trust you, can’t I, Maebelle?”

I nodded. “Of course. I’m certainly not one of those spies they warned us about when I first came to the Reservation, handing secrets over to the Germans.”

“Those aren’t the spies I’m worried about,” he whispered.

When I offered a confused look, he said, “A lot of people on the Reservation are watching and listening to everything around them. If they hear anyone discussing information they shouldn’t—like what I just told you about the SEDs—they report it.”

My eyes widened. “Who do they report it to?”

“The FBI, if rumors can be believed.”

I didn’t know what the FBI was, but his revelation unnerved me. Sissy and I agreed we didn’t know anything of importance to share with anyone, but Garlyn’s words served as a reminder I needed to watch what I said and to whom I said it.

“What happens to someone if they speak out of turn?”

“Most of them lose their job and are immediately escorted off the Reservation. Sometimes not even their friends or coworkers know what happened to them.”

The seriousness of his tone told me he wasn’t jesting.

I couldn’t afford to lose this job. Mama confessed in her last letter that Pa wasn’t doing well, so the money I sent home was vital to my family’s well-being. More than anything, I wanted to make it possible for Pa to quit working in the mines.

“Mr. Colby says you’re one of his best employees,” Garlyn said, “so I don’t think you have anything to worry about. Just be careful.”

We finished our meal and walked outside into a humid evening. The scent of rain hung in the air, and clouds over the hills on the southern horizon looked dark.

“I hope we don’t get another storm,” I bemoaned as we made our way along the wooden walkway, heading in the direction of my dormitory.

“I haven’t been able to buy a pair of galoshes yet.

Every time the stores get a shipment, they’re snapped up before I can get there.

My shoes won’t last much longer if I have to keep walking through mud.

Without a shoe ration card, I can’t get another pair. ”

A look of empathy crossed his face. “It’s crazy how quickly things fly off the shelves.”

We reached the entrance to the dormitory just as light rain began to fall. “Thank you for dinner. That was a real treat.”

“My pleasure.” After a beat, he added, “I hope we can do it again.”

Suddenly shy but pleased, I smiled. “That would be nice.”

The rain fell harder.

“I better go before I get soaked.”

“Do you live in the men’s dormitory?” I asked, indicating the group of buildings not far from the women’s dorms.

“No. The SEDs are housed in barracks in Happy Valley.”

This news surprised me. “You came all the way to town just to have dinner with me?”

The look he gave me sent a shiver racing up my arms that had nothing to do with the turn in the weather. “I did, and I’d be happy to do it a lot more. Goodnight, Maebelle.”

“Goodnight.”

I watched him jog down the wooden walkway toward the bus stop. He’d be drenched when he finally got home.

I turned and went upstairs. I hadn’t wanted to date anyone at CEW. Romance was the last thing on my mind. Sending money home to my family was the sole reason I was here.

But spending time with Garlyn tonight had been more than pleasant. I looked forward to doing it again.

I giggled as I reached my room.

It seems I may have changed my mind about romance.