Page 40 of The Women of Oak Ridge

My face was on fire, and I didn’t look at either man.

After a moment, Mr. Colby chuckled, then said, “Miss Willett, I believe you’ve got work to do.”

“Yes, sir.” I hurried to where my bike was parked. I peeked at Garlyn. He wore a silly grin and didn’t seem at all flustered at being caught fraternizing.

“See ya, Mae. Mr. Colby. Have a good day.” He walked out the door, but not before tossing me a wink.

Mr. Colby didn’t question me about Garlyn’s presence and went on with his business.

Requests for tools and parts awaited me, so I loaded my basket and set off into the cavernous belly of K-25.

When I passed through the pipe gallery, I waved to Velvet where she sat atop an enormous pipe, polishing it.

I’d enjoyed my time at her humble home and hoped she’d invite me again.

I doubted it was appropriate for me to invite her to the dorm, but I would check with Mrs. Kepple just the same.

By the time my shift was over, my mood was much improved from when I’d first arrived that morning.

The normalcy of work. The friendships of Garlyn and Velvet.

Even Mr. Colby’s steady leadership. All served to remind me I had a good life here in Oak Ridge.

A life I wanted to continue, despite the troubles with Sissy and Clive.

While I made my way to the bus terminal, I came to a decision.

I wouldn’t spend another moment trying to figure out what to do about Clive Morrison.

Even though I was certain he was a spy and was up to no good, someone else would have to report him to the authorities.

He’d proven himself dangerous when he set his own trailer on fire.

I couldn’t jeopardize my job or my freedom, no matter how much I wanted to see him stopped.

I also decided to wait until after Christmas to write to Sissy.

My letter might cause her further hurt, and I didn’t want to spoil her holiday with her family.

But as soon as the new year arrived, I would tell her everything, assuring her that I had not betrayed her and had no feelings for Clive.

If she chose not to return to Oak Ridge, I still hoped we could remain friends.

The line for the buses moved at a snail’s pace.

It seemed one of the big vehicles had broken down right there at the stop and was causing a backup.

While I waited, my mind wandered back to my conversation with Garlyn.

Warmth spread up my arms despite the chilly breeze, remembering the way he’d looked at me when he invited me to dinner and a concert.

When I saw him on the operating floor later, he said he’d pick me up at my dorm.

Maybe I should purchase a small Christmas gift for him.

He’d already shown himself to be a generous sort of fellow by surprising me with the rubber galoshes and a candy bar.

We weren’t officially dating, but I had a feeling that might change soon.

The blare of a car horn interrupted my sweet train of thought.

Everyone turned toward the sound.

My stomach dropped to the ground when I saw Clive standing next to his Army sedan, parked a short distance away. He stared right at me. With a smirk, he waved me over.

I quickly turned away. I didn’t know what he wanted, but I wouldn’t play along.

The horn sounded again. This time, a long, shrill blast.

“Who is that jerk?” the woman behind me said.

“What’s he want?” another woman asked.

I peeked in Clive’s direction. His glare told me he wasn’t going to give up and leave. He lay on the horn again, and again.

“Idiot,” I finally muttered and stepped out of line.

“You tell him, honey,” a woman called after me.

I practically stomped toward him. “What are you doing? Everyone is watching.”

“Don’t. Ever. Ignore me. Again.”

The barely controlled rage in his voice sent a chill racing up my spine.

“Get in the car.”

I swallowed and took a step backwards. “No. I’m not going anywhere with you. You need to leave me alone.”

His eyes narrowed on me. “Get in the car, Mae. Now. ”

I turned to leave. He wouldn’t dare touch me in front of all these people.

“Do you see that MP over there?” he said. “The one watching us?”

On their own, my eyes found the military man. He stood outside the portal guardhouse, arms akimbo, his gaze fixed in our direction.

“All I have to do is walk over to him, tell him you set my trailer on fire in a jealous rage, and your life is over.”

I stood frozen, heart thundering.

His words were not a ploy. He’d made certain I was at the scene of the fire. Someone was bound to remember me. It was as though Clive had read my happy thoughts from minutes ago. He knew he had the power to destroy everything good in my life in an instant. To ruin my present and my future.

I turned to face him, panic racing through me. “I swear I won’t tell anyone about you. I don’t even care what it is you’re doing. Just leave me alone.”

Tense moments ticked by before he spoke. “The thing is, Mae, I need you.”

Revulsion swept through me. It must have shown on my face, because he gave a humorless laugh.

“Not like that. Trust me, I have no romantic feelings for you whatsoever. What I need is practical help.” He came around to the passenger side of the car and opened the door. “Get in. I’ll tell you about it while I drive you home.”

I didn’t move. I glanced at the guard, at the crowd nearby, finally starting to board the buses.

Every one of them a witness to what would no doubt appear to be a lovers’ quarrel.

Once again, Clive had made sure I was seen with him.

If I walked away now and went to the authorities with my wild story of suspected espionage, arson, and threats, would anyone believe me?

I knew the answer.

I climbed into the car.

Clive shut the door and returned to the driver’s seat. He didn’t steer the car toward the river as he’d done before but pointed it in the direction of town.

“You’ve made things difficult for me,” he said after we’d gone several miles in silence.

I shot him a look. “You’ve made things difficult for yourself. I don’t want any part of this. I told you I wouldn’t tell anyone, and I mean it. Just leave me alone.”

He gave me a patient look. “You’re not listening, Mae. This isn’t about you or how you feel. This is bigger than either of us. My work is important to the entire world. But now that I’ve been forced to move back into the barracks, I’m going to need to do things differently.”

I didn’t respond. I didn’t care about his so-called difficulties. His inflated ego clearly prevented rational thinking.

“For obvious reasons, I can’t keep important documents in the barracks or in the trunk of my car. A nosy guard could easily find them. They must be kept in a location where no one will think to look.” He glanced at me. “I need you to take them to your dorm room and hide them.”

I gasped. “I won’t do it.” I shook my head and crossed my arms. “I won’t put myself in jeopardy like that.

Whatever it is you’re doing, you need to stop.

You’re helping the enemy. Why would you do that?

Don’t you want the war to end? Don’t you want to see Hitler and the Nazis put in prison where they’ll rot for all eternity?

How could you betray your country to help them? ”

Clive didn’t answer. Instead, he pulled the car off to the side of the road and stopped. I feared I’d said too much. I still had the knife in my purse, but I was too afraid to take it out.

“What a little fool you are, Mae. I’m not helping the Nazis.” He studied me. “Do you know what communism is?”

“Of course,” I said, puzzled by the question. “My pa says communism is a terrible way to run a country. He says everything good about America would come to an end if we let communists take over.”

He looked annoyed. “Your pa is wrong. Communism is exactly what America needs. You and your family would benefit from communism. Sissy said your father is a poor coal miner, most likely dying of black lung, and your mother does laundry.”

My face heated. I didn’t appreciate Sissy talking about me and my family to Clive. “So what? They work hard and are honest, good people.”

“I didn’t say they weren’t, but they and people like them will never have the life they deserve unless things change. Under communism, no one is poor. Everyone has the same income, the same housing, the same rights. Doesn’t that sound like a better way of life?”

I answered with a question of my own. “What does communism have to do with you helping the enemy?”

“I told you, I’m not helping the enemy.” A self-satisfied look settled on his face. “I work for the Russian government.”

I stared at him. Had he lost his mind?

“I see you think I’m crazy.” He chuckled, then sobered. “You remember what I told you about the work we’re doing here in Oak Ridge? About the bomb we’re trying to create?”

I gave a tiny nod, but my mind reeled. He was nuts. Positively insane. I should have seen it before, especially after he set his own home on fire.

“Germany is also working on an atomic bomb,” he went on, “but my comrades don’t think they’ll be successful.

Too many of their top scientists were Jews who fled the country or aren’t allowed to work.

Mark my words. We will be successful in completing the project soon.

That means the United States would be the only country in the world with such a powerful weapon.

Many of us, however, don’t think that’s a good idea.

We don’t want Germany to have the bomb, but what if one of our allies did?

Wouldn’t it level the playing field if Russia also had one?

So that’s what we’re doing. Insuring that the American government doesn’t get too power hungry. ”