Page 74 of The Women of Oak Ridge
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 thebarracks 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. Wewillbe 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.”
My mind spun with his incredible tale. It sounded preposterous. Like something you’d read in aFlash Gordonscience-fiction comic strip. But what if he wasn’t making it up? I’d seen the S-50 plant with my own eyes. I knew no military products like tanks or guns were produced in Oak Ridge, yet thousands of people spent day and night creating... something.
Clive’s words from the night he took me to the river echoed in my memory.Here in Oak Ridge, we’re working to enrich enough uranium to fuel a bomb. A big bomb.
I didn’t know anything about bombs or uranium, but even Iwas aware that everyone on the Reservation was involved in important work for the war effort. Something the military and the government wanted kept secret.
“When we get to town, I’ll give you the documents I need you to hide,” he said, drawing my attention. “Don’t even think about showing them to anyone. If you do, I’ll be forced to reveal that not only did you burn down my trailer, you’re also a spy for Germany. While you sit in jail and wait for them to disprove it, I’ll be long gone.”
