Page 39 of The Women of Oak Ridge
CHAPTER FOURTEEN:MAE
SISSY’S BED WAS EMPTYwhen I awoke Sunday morning.
With a yawn, I sat up and stretched. Groggily, I scanned the room, trying to remember if she was scheduled to work. With rotating shifts, it was hard to keep track sometimes.
I’d gone to bed early last night, exhausted. The chore of doing laundry had become a frustrating, all-day affair. In mid-cycle, the washing machine broke down. Mrs. Kepple called maintenance, but they couldn’t come right away. I’d had to wring out sopping, soapy clothes, only to discover the wait for another washer was twice as long. My patience had evaporated. I’d hauled the wet laundry upstairs to the bathroom and hand rinsed everything in the tub. Then I’d lugged it back down and found an empty clothesline outside in between the dormitories. By the time everything was dry and I’d ironed out the wrinkles on two of Sissy’s dresses, I was bone-tired.
A glance at my wristwatch on the nightstand told me it was a little after seven o’clock. I remembered that Sissy and I planned toattend services at Chapel on the Hill before I started my shift at noon. Maybe she rose early and was in the shower, although the fact that her bed was already made was unusual. Neither of us put much effort into housekeeping. Someone routinely cleaned floors and bathrooms throughout the dorm, otherwise we’d be living among mounds of dust bunnies and dried mud.
I changed into Mama’s Sunday-go-to-meetin’-made-over dress, added a sweater, and walked down the hall to the bathroom. Chattering girls stood in line for the showers, but Sissy was not among them.
I returned to our room, sat on my unmade bed, and studied her neat coverlet.
Had she gone to work earlier than usual? It wasn’t outside of the realm of possibilities. A nasty virus was going around, with many employees at each of the plants unable to attend to their duties. Perhaps she’d received word she was needed.
I stood and walked to the closet we shared. Her coat and the new dress she’d worn yesterday on her outing with Clive weren’t hanging up, so she must still be wearing them. Like many of the women who worked at Y-12 monitoring cubicles, Sissy changed into coveralls once she was at the plant, then changed back into her street clothes when her shift ended. If she’d gone directly to work after she returned from Knoxville, that would account for why nothing in her closet had been disturbed.
I donned my coat and made my way to the cafeteria, hoping she’d be there.
She wasn’t.
I ate a hasty breakfast and returned to the dorm.
No Sissy.
At a quarter to ten, I walked up the hill, past Jackson Square and the Guest House, to the chapel. Services in the small church were well attended, no matter the time of day or the denomination,and I squeezed onto a bench near the back. A search of the room, however, told me my roommate was not there.
Worry began to creep into the edges of my mind, and I couldn’t focus on what the preacher was saying. Where was Sissy? Yes, she could be at work already, but it seemed odd that she hadn’t mentioned anything about the need to go in earlier. We didn’t often leave notes for one another, but we had on occasions when we knew we wouldn’t cross paths.
When the service ended, I hurried back to our room. Still empty.
After I readied for work, I scribbled a note to Sissy and left it on her bed. I didn’t admonish her for not coming home last night, but I did tell her I’d been worried when she didn’t meet me at the church service as planned.
The bus ride to K-25 took twice as long due to a flat tire, requiring riders to transfer to a second bus. Mr. Colby wasn’t happy when I finally arrived, late.
“A dozen people are out sick,” he said, unusually gruff. “We’ll be busy today.”
He was right.
I don’t know how many miles I traveled on my bicycle, but I was beat when it was finally time to clock out for the day. Yet even though I’d constantly been on the go, Sissy’s absence was never far from my mind. I felt an urgency to get back to the dorm and make sure all was well with her.
Garlyn was waiting for me at the security portal.
“I thought we could have dinner at the snack bar,” he said once we were seated on the bus. “They have a new cook and everyone is raving about the hamburgers.”
“Sure.” I gave a distracted nod.
His keen gaze traveled over my face. “What’s wrong?”
Exhaustion and worry crashed over me at the genuine concernin his voice. My vision blurred with tears. “I don’t think Sissy came home last night,” I whispered.
I hadn’t wanted to admit it at first, assuming she’d simply gone to work early. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized I didn’t believe that scenario.
My gut twisted.
The only logical explanation was that she’d spent the night with Clive.
Garlyn’s brow tugged into a frown. “That’s not like her.”
