Page 56 of The Women of Oak Ridge
CHAPTER NINETEEN:MAE
MY HEART POUNDEDin my chest, making it hard to breathe as I walked along the dirt road in Happy Valley. Sunshine glinted off the roofs of rows and rows of trailers, exposing the dreariness of the fabricated dwellings. I’d stayed awake most of the night trying to figure out what I intended to do once I arrived at the home I knew to be Clive’s. The answer continued to elude me.
I glanced behind me for the umpteenth time, nervousness tightening my belly.
What if someone saw me approach Clive’s trailer and asked what I was doing? A nosy neighbor could get suspicious and call the authorities if they noticed me lingering outside, especially with Clive’s car gone. I’d told Velvet I needed to collect something from my coworker, and while that statement was factually correct in the minutest way, Clive would unreservedly disagree should I get caught red-handed snooping through his home.
The neighborhood was quiet, exactly what I’d wanted. My watch told me it was a little after ten o’clock. Morning shifts atK-25 had begun earlier, as did the school day for the children of Happy Valley. Most people who worked the late shift would be home in bed, asleep by now. A few housewives with young children might notice me walk past their home, but otherwise I felt now was the most opportune time to search Clive’s trailer.
I clutched my purse to my side.
I’d stuffed several items into it that would hopefully help me gain access to the small home. A knife I’d borrowed from the cafeteria. A pair of scissors, tweezers, and two bobby pins. I’d never picked a lock before, but my brother Harris was an expert at it.
I thought back to the time he broke into the shed where Granny Woods, an elderly woman who’d lived in our small Kentucky community for decades, kept her most valuable possession: a hundred-pound bag of sugar. No one knew how she’d come by it, but with sugar being one of the first items rationed in the United States once the war began, Granny’s sugar became famous. When folks couldn’t get the sweetener at the company store, they’d go to Granny and buy some from her. Being a savvy businesswoman, Granny never sold more than a few ounces to anyone, and only on certain days of the week. It would cost them a pretty penny, too, because Granny’s sugar wasn’t cheap. But it didn’t require a ration card, and as Mama often said, the money Granny made from selling her sugar kept food on her table now that her husband had died from black lung.
Harris, however, had learned how to pick the lock on the small sugar shed. Mama would’ve taken a switch to him if she knew he was stealing from Granny. I’d gone with him once just to see if he was telling the truth and was shocked when he had the lock open in a matter of seconds, using an ice pick and a nail.
“You best not ever get caught,” I’d said on our way home while he licked sugar from his lips. Once he’d opened the door, he dipped his fingers into the bag, claiming he only took a pinch wheneverhe snuck into the shed. “You won’t be able to sit for a month of Sundays if Mama finds out what you’ve been doing. Stealing is wrong, Harris. Especially from an old widow woman.”
I’d advised him to quit his wayward practices and instead volunteer to help Granny with her garden to make amends. Whether he took my advice or not, I didn’t know, because I left for Oak Ridge soon afterwards.
It wasn’t lost upon me that I was planning to break into someone’s house—a far worse crime than sneaking into an old woman’s shed for a taste of sugar—but I wasn’t doing this for selfish motives. I needed to know what Sissy had seen in Clive’s trailer that frightened her. And the only way to accomplish that was to search it while he was away.
When I reached the trailer with the number I recalled from last night, I slowed and glanced across the street.
All seemed quiet.
Clive’s car was not parked on the street. Nothing looked out of the ordinary.
I continued walking for another block before I crossed and started back up the opposite side. As I came closer to Clive’s trailer, uncertainties assailed me.
“This is insane,” I whispered to myself. Completely and utterly insane. And illegal. I couldn’t forget about that.
I moistened my dry lips.
Could I go through with this?
I felt like an entire day had passed since I’d crawled out of bed. The sky had still been black when I rose, without even a hint of pale pink along the eastern horizon, but I couldn’t sleep. Yesterday, my bravado convinced me I would do whatever it took to discover the truth about Clive and the role he played in Sissy’s leaving Oak Ridge so suddenly. But here in the daylight, boldness was nowhere to be found. Doubts and fears consumed me. If I got caught, I’dbe arrested and lose my job. What would Mama and Pa do if I couldn’t send money to them anymore?
I drew even with Clive’s trailer. My feet slowed on their own.
I looked around. No one was out and about.
“If you’re gonna do this, it’s now or never,” I hissed.
Decision made, I darted up the wooden walkway to the front door. Unlike the trailers that had awnings or a porch, Clive’s barren home left me fully exposed. I tried the knob, but the door was locked. Petty theft was a problem in Oak Ridge, even in the dormitories. Everyone took care with their belongings if they didn’t want them to go missing.
My hands shook as I hurriedly dug out the tools of my crime from my purse. Should a neighbor happen to be watching, I hoped it would appear I was searching for keys.
I tried the knife first, but the tip was too big to fit into the keyhole. Next I used the tweezers. When Harris picked Granny’s lock, he’d used two instruments at the same time, seeming to work in tandem. I held the tweezers still and poked one end of the bobby pin in next to it. I had no idea what to do next, so I simply wiggled and jiggled the two, up and down, sideways and back.
A feather could have knocked me down when I heard a click.
Swallowing hard, I reached for the knob. The door swung open.
With one last look to be certain no one was around, I stepped inside and closed the door.
A shiver raced through me.
