Page 39 of The Women of Oak Ridge

THE DAY AFTER THE FIRE, I went to work as usual and acted as though nothing out of the ordinary had occurred.

As though I hadn’t a care in the world. As though the living, breathing fear that swirled through me like a twister every waking moment didn’t exist. Although Clive had not verbally threatened me, the fire was a dangerously clear warning.

If I said anything to anyone about my suspicions regarding him being a spy, I would find myself behind bars.

By the time my shift ended and I made my way to the bus stop, my emotions were on the brink of spilling onto the pavement. While I waited at the back of the crowd, Velvet arrived and smiled as she approached. It faded when our eyes met.

“Mae, is somethin’ wrong?”

The compassion in her voice was my undoing. Tears escaped, and my chin trembled. “I just feel so alone,” I whispered. I hadn’t meant to say anything, but the despair-filled words left my mouth on their own.

She touched my arm. “Is there anything I can do?”

I shook my head. There wasn’t anything anyone could do.

“Would you like to come to my house for a cup o’ coffee?”

Her offer took me by surprise. “I... I don’t know.”

“My roommates are working the late shift, so they won’t be around. It’s always nice to have the place to myself. It can get crowded and noisy when all four of us are home.”

I had dreaded going back to the dorm. Sissy’s absence and Prudence Thorpe’s meddling made me want to crawl into a hole and never come out. Velvet’s invitation offered me time to get control of myself. “Yes,” I finally said. “I’d like to come to your house.”

A warm smile filled her milk-chocolate-colored eyes. “I’m glad.”

We boarded the bus. As I made to follow her to the seats in the back, she gave her head a small shake. “We’ll meet up again when it’s time to get off.”

The journey from K-25 to the area of Happy Valley made up of hutments didn’t take long.

I disembarked with Velvet and other men and women, all Black.

If anyone wondered why I’d joined them, they kept it to themselves.

When we passed through the gate, the guard eyed me and scrutinized my badge, but he ultimately waved me through.

I followed Velvet as we wound our way through rows of look-alike dwellings.

All were tiny, square, and made from plywood.

A pipe stuck out the middle of each pitched roof, smoke curling from some of them, and plywood-shuttered windows kept out the cold weather as well as the warm sunshine.

Clotheslines stretched between houses, where stiff items flapped in the December breeze.

“How long have you lived here?” I asked.

“Roonie and I came to Tennessee in 1943.” Velvet led the way up a wooden walkway to the front door of a hut. “He lives over in the men’s section.”

Her comment puzzled me. “Who is Roonie?”

“My husband,” she said over her shoulder as she entered the house. “Come on in.”

I hesitated on the stoop.

I’d never been inside the home of a Black person before.

The Black families in our small mining community in Kentucky kept to themselves, yet Mama’d always taught Harris and me that everyone was created in God’s image.

There weren’t any differences between the races that should ever make anyone think themselves better or more deserving than the others.

When Velvet turned a welcoming smile to me, my shoulders relaxed. “Thank you,” I said as I crossed the threshold.

Every inch of the confined space appeared occupied by something. Four narrow beds along the four walls; four straight-backed wooden chairs; a coal-burning stove in the center; clothes on pegs; personal items scattered about. There was just enough room to walk a circle around the stove and back.

“It ain’t much, but it keeps the rain off our heads.”

I tried not to stare. It wasn’t Velvet’s fault there weren’t better living accommodations provided for her and the others. Her earlier comment rolled through my head. “You said your husband lives in a different area. Why is that?”

“Because,” she said, matter-of-factly, “colored men and women aren’t allowed to live together, even if they’re married.” She didn’t meet my gaze but moved to the stove to get a fire started. “Have a seat.” She indicated the chair next to one of the beds.

I did, noticing a well-worn Bible lay on the pillow of the neatly made bed.

“My mama gave that to me when Roonie and I married up.” She reached to pick up the black book and smoothed the rough cover lovingly.

“It belonged to her daddy. He was born a slave on an Alabama cotton plantation. After the Civil War ended and he was free, he saved enough money to buy this Bible. He didn’t know how to read yet, but he was determined to have the Word of God in his home.

” She carefully returned the book to its spot.

As I watched her fill a kettle with water from a bucket and set it on the stove to heat, it occurred to me I had no idea the depth of suffering Velvet and her family had endured because of hatred and ignorance.

Like most white people, I’d learned about slavery in school.

I knew about segregation and laws I didn’t agree with, like the one preventing Velvet from living with her husband.

But other than being an aggravating nuisance, they didn’t affect me.

At least, not in the way they affected Velvet.

“I’m sorry.”

I wasn’t exactly sure why I felt the need to apologize, but I did. Not for being white, but for not being able to do anything about the prejudice and harm she and her loved ones had to endure every single day.

She seemed to understand. “Me too.”

We spent the next hour chatting over coffee and graham crackers.

She told me how she met Roonie and about their hope to start a family as soon as the war was over.

I told her about Mama, Pa, and Harris. She shared about the time she and Roonie saw the Gulf of Mexico, and I described the beauty of the Appalachian Mountains of east Kentucky.

Never once did our jobs at K-25 come up for discussion, nor did I mention anything about the situation with Sissy and Clive.

In fact, some of the heaviness I’d carried all day evaporated in the warm, relaxing atmosphere.

It was nice to simply enjoy easy conversation with a friend.

As the sun dipped below the hills, Velvet walked me to the gate. A Black man stood on the other side of the fence. He looked surprised as we approached.

“Mae, this is my husband, Roonie. Roonie, this is my friend, Mae.”

He blinked, then nodded politely. “Ma’am. It’s a pleasure meetin’ you.”

“And you.”

“Men aren’t allowed in the women’s area,” Velvet explained. “Roonie comes to get me when it’s time for supper.” She faced me. “I enjoyed visiting with you, Mae. Thank you for doing me the honor of coming to my home.”

“Thank you for inviting me.” I wanted to give her a hug, but the guard waved me forward.

I boarded a bus bound for town a few minutes later while Velvet and her husband walked in the direction of the unfenced hutment area. As I settled in the seat for the thirty-minute ride, I whispered a prayer of thanks for my new friend.

Garlyn was waiting for me when I arrived at the maintenance shop the following morning.

His eyes sparkled when he saw me. “Hi, stranger.”

I attempted a smile, but I hadn’t slept much all night. Worries about Clive, Sissy, and MPs kept me awake, fretting until I was ill.

“Hi, yourself. I figured you’d be home, fast asleep by now after working the late shift.”

He followed me into the shop office. Thankfully Mr. Colby wasn’t there, nor was the supervisor who took over when Mr. Colby was off duty.

“There was an emergency just before my shift ended. We finished fixing it a little while ago, so I decided I might as well hang around and say hello to you.” He grinned. “Hello.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Hello. Is the emergency anything I need to know about?”

He shook his head. “Nah. Just the usual.”

I studied Garlyn. Now that I knew about the top secret project and how the work being done here in Oak Ridge would eventually lead to a bomb, I wondered how much Garlyn knew about it.

Like Clive, he was an SED with the Army.

I didn’t know his clearance level, but he seemed to have access to every area of K-25, including all of the smaller buildings scattered throughout the complex.

How I wished I could tell Garlyn everything that had happened, but I couldn’t say a word.

A lowly errand girl like me wasn’t supposed to know about uranium and the location of yet another secret city.

I had no solid proof Clive was a spy or that the papers I’d seen in his trailer were important.

I didn’t even know if his story about Sissy returning to Georgia was true or not.

If I spilled the wild tale now, I would sound crazy.

“I heard there’s a Christmas concert at the Grove Recreation Hall at eight o’clock tonight.” He closed the distance between us. “I thought, if you’re interested, we could have dinner and then go to the concert together.”

Warmth filled my face at his intense look. “I’d like that.”

He seemed pleased. “The newspaper said other musical events are lined up in the coming days. The brass and woodwind choir is playing at the high school. Traditional carols will be sung at the Robertsville School. There’s even a performance of Handel’s Messiah at Chapel on the Hill. That’s one of my favorites.”

“I guess everyone is getting into the holiday spirit. It’s hard to believe Christmas is almost here.”

“There’s also a dance on the twenty-third, as well as one on New Year’s Eve.” His gaze held mine. “I’d sure like to ring in the new year with you, Mae.”

I was about to respond when Mr. Colby appeared in the doorway. He glanced between us. “Can I help you, Mr. Young? I thought the repair was finished.”

“It is, sir.” Garlyn stepped away from me. “Miss Willett and I were just talking about the upcoming holiday.”