Del introduced her to several of his colleagues from the Berkeley Lab, all of whom apparently were on loan to the Tennessee Eastman Corporation, which seemed to be in charge of what everyone called, The Plant, or Y-12.

  The names, like the building numbering system, made no sense to Nora, and maybe that was the point. If they didn’t make any sense to her, they certainly wouldn’t make any sense to the enemy.

  She blinked and tuned back into the conversation a few of the fellows were having while tweaking the knobs and levers on the machine.

  “What’s Tubealloy?”

  Suddenly, all conversation ceased. Del took her aside and whispered, “Tubealloy is code for uranium. We’re never to use the real name. Never. Do you understand?”

  Nora nodded. The intensity of his expression frightened her a little bit. “Understood.”

  “Good.”

  “What else do I need to know?”

  “You’ll know what you need to know when you need to know it.”

  Nora wanted to scream. How was she supposed to work under these circumstances?

  Her irritation must’ve shown, because Del added, “Hey. I know that a lot of this seems cryptic and vague. We all feel the same way. Focus on what you’re told to do and whatever goals they ask you to meet. Don’t worry about the endgame. That’s not ours.”

  “Okay.”

  “Sit down and take a crack at it.” He indicated the stool in front of the control panel prototype. “Make room for Dr. Lindstrom, boys. She’s a Columbia girl.”

  The young man seated on the stool vacated it and beckoned her with a flourish.

  “The object is to get maximum output of material without—”

  “Degradation,” she finished the sentence for the young man.

  “Oh. She’s a smart one.”

  Nora, well used to the insecure, immature, sarcasm of her male classmates at Columbia, studiously ignored the jab. She made herself comfortable in front of the board and went to work.

  In short order, she had the needles consistently fine-tuned to the maximum output range.

  “Bet she can’t keep it there without popping the machine off,” one of the Berkeley boys said.

  She refused to rise to the bait. Half an hour later, having produced consistent, and consistently high-performance values, she stepped away from the machine.

  “How did she do that?” one of the boys asked.

  “Shut up, Harold.”

  “What? Our results are never consistently that good. I just want to know how she did that on the first try.”

  “Beginner’s luck,” another one said.

  “Is there anything else you want me to see?” she asked Del.

  “No. That’s it for today.”

  “So, what’s next?”

  “I’ll show you where to catch a bus. It’s about a ten-minute ride to get back to the bus depot. From there you can take the fifteen-minute walk home. You’re staying in the women’s dorm, right?”

  “Yes.” She wasn’t sure how he knew that, but she didn’t feel like examining it too closely. Her feet were tired and she wanted to go home.

  “That’s right near Townsite.”

  “Where?”

  “Townsite. Where Jackson Square is? The shopping area? Right in front of The Castle on the Hill?”

  “Oh. Yes. It’s near that.”

  “I’m bunking not far from there. I could escort you back.”

  “I don’t want you to have to go out of your way.”

  “It’s no trouble at all, especially since you’re new around here. I’d be happy to show you the ropes a little bit.”

  Was he flirting with her? Nora knew she’d never been particularly good at recognizing that behavior. Perhaps he simply wanted to be helpful. “Sure.”

  They caught the bus, got searched as they exited through the Elza Gate, and rode in companionable silence to the bus depot.

  “Watch your step. I wouldn’t want you to ruin your shoes.”

  “Thank you, I’m fine.” Nora navigated one of the many wooden walkways that zigzagged throughout the complex.

  “This,” Del gestured with a sweep of his arms, “is Jackson Square. You can go to the theater, go grocery shopping, the beauty parlor… Not that you need that.”

  She groaned inwardly. That’s definitely flirtatious behavior.

  “Pretty much most of what you need, you can find right here. Otherwise, you can take the bus to Knoxville. They’ve got some nifty restaurants over there, and the lines aren’t nearly as long as they are here. Here, you queue up for everything, and I mean everything. If you see a line, get in it. Chances are, it’s something you want.”

  Rosalie had told her as much last night.

  “There’s a rec hall for dancing. You do like to dance, right?”

  “I don’t know,” she answered honestly. “I haven’t had much practice.”

  “I could teach you.”

  You walked right into that. “Thank you. Right now, I’d like to focus on doing my job.”

  “Aw. C’mon. You can’t work all the time.”

  “Perhaps after I feel more settled.” There, that was neutral, wasn’t it?

  “Okay. Well, here you are.” He stopped outside her dormitory.

  “Thank you.”

  “I could meet you here in the morning and we could go to the plant together?”

  “Thank you. I’m not sure exactly what I’m scheduled to do tomorrow. But I appreciate the offer.”

  “Okay. I’ll see you around.”

  She waved and let herself into the dorm, grateful to make it to her room without further human interaction. A shower and a date with a good book sounded wonderful.

  Today was going to be a big day. Mary could feel it in her bones. Initially, she had planned to go shopping on her day off and buy herself a new dress, but she didn’t want to miss the mail delivery. Today would be the day she’d hear back from her cousin Louise about job prospects in East Tennessee. It had to be.

  She gazed out the window. Could the mailman have come when she went to the bathroom?

  “You’ve been staring out that window for hours now.” Mrs. Trask rearranged the ball of yarn and resumed knitting. “Is Samuel coming over? Is that who you’re waiting for?”

  Guilt tore at Mary’s conscience. She still hadn’t told her mother that she’d rejected Sam’s proposal. She’d been busy with work, and crafting the letter to Louise, and… Those are feeble excuses and you know it. Get it over with. Don’t be a coward.

  “No, Mother. It isn’t Sam. You likely won’t be seeing him anymore.”

  “That’s ridiculous. Why not? Are things that busy down at the repair shop? Surely he can make time for you.”

  “I…” Mary took a deep breath and plunged ahead. “I told him I didn’t want to marry him.”

  Mrs. Trask’s hands stilled. “I’m sure I heard you wrong. I could’ve sworn you said you turned down Samuel’s marriage proposal.”

  “No. You heard me right.”

  Now she stopped knitting altogether. “When was this?”

  “I don’t remember, Mother.”

  “You don’t remember? I should think something as important as that would stick in your mind. You’re a terrible liar, Mary Elizabeth. It doesn’t suit you. You’re not too old for me to wash your mouth out with soap, you know.”

  Mary counted to five in her head. An angry exchange with her mother served no purpose. She strived for a reasonable tone. “I’m not a child. I’m a grown woman and I make my own decisions. I told Sam no because, while I love him, I’m not in love with him. I refuse to marry for the sake of convenience or because you think I should say yes. I’m not going to throw my life away.”

  “If you turned Samuel down, you already did throw your life away. I swear, what is wrong with you? At the rate you’re going, you’ll die a spinster—old and alone in your misery.”

  “Now you sound like him.” Mary rose.

  “So, that’s it?”

  “That’s it. I don’t know what else you want me to say.”

  “Say you’ll go back to Samuel right this second and tell him you plead temporary insanity. Say you’ll beg him to forgive your stupidity.”

  Mary heard the fear in her mother’s voice, and for a moment, she felt sorry for her. “I will do no such thing. I’m not you. I don’t feel like I’ll wither and die if I don’t have a man to take care of me. I’m stronger than that.”

  Her mother recoiled as if she’d been slapped. “Are you saying you think I’m weak because I married your father? I’ll have you know he’s the one who leans on me. Not the other way around.”

  “I’m saying that I’m my own person. I don’t need Sam or a marriage to define me. I can get along in the world fine without a man.”

  “The world is not kind to women like that,” her mother said, derisively.

  “Women like what, exactly? What are you talking about?”

  “You know. Women who…prefer the company of other women.”

  “I have no idea what you’re getting at; that isn’t what this is about. Sam is not the boy for me. That’s all there is to it.” Mary’s heart pounded. Did her mother know she’d been wondering about what it would be like to kiss Phyllis? How could she? She spied the mailman coming toward their house and ran out the front door to meet him.

  “Hi, Miss Mary. You’re looking pretty as a picture today.”

  “Thank you. Do you have anything for me?”

  “I bet you’re waiting for a letter from your dad. Sorry to say, nothing from the Front today. But you did get this.” He held out a letter. “It’s addressed especially to you. All the way from Clinton, Tennessee.”

  Mary’s heart rate accelerated. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. Say hello to your mom for me.”

  “I will.” Mary went back inside and made a beeline for her bedroom.

  “Anything for me?”

  “No, Mother.”

  “Where are you going?”

  Mary ignored the question. She locked herself in her bedroom, slit the envelope open, and sat on the bed to read. She regretted, not for the first time, that she had decided to correspond via letter with Louise. It had taken her forever to craft her letter, and now it would take her twice that long to read and comprehend Louise’s return reply.

  My dearest cousin,

  It was so wonderful to hear from you. You’re right, writing letters back and forth is a poor substitute for spending time together as we used to do when we were children and lived next door to each other. It has been ages since we’ve seen each other.

  I knew you weren’t wild about working at Meyer’s after graduation, but I had no idea you were miserable enough that you’d consider moving so far away from home. I have to say, it gave me quite a thrill to think about you being so close again.

  In answer to your specific question regarding work in these parts, have I got news for you! I recently got a job not far from here doing secretarial work. I’m told that what we’re doing will help us win the war, although everything else about what we’re doing is very hush-hush. The pay is better than I could’ve imagined, and the place is like nothing I could describe. The best part is they’re hiring girls just like you by the dozen, and not only for secretarial work, either. How soon can you get here?

  I can put you up at my rooming house for a few days while you apply, but you’d be best off telling them at the interview that you’re not local. I have to take a bus to work because I live too close to get on-site housing. But if you get a job, and they know you’re from out of town, they’ll give you a place to live for a song. They’re not the best accommodations, but they’ll do. And the social life is out of this world. They have movie theaters, bowling alleys, recreation halls for dancing, and lots to do when you’re not working.

  Anyway, all you have to do is get here, and I’ll help you with the rest. I’m sure you’ll get hired and start right away. They need lots of workers, and fast.

  As for how to get here, you can take a bus to Knoxville, and I’ll come pick you up. I’m so excited that I’ll get to see you again! Hurry!

  Your favorite cousin,

  Louise

  P.S. My lips are sealed. I won’t tell a soul, so you won’t have to worry about your mother finding out.

  Mary finally lowered the letter. This really was happening. She was going to get on a bus with a packed suitcase and leave Sam, and Meyer’s, and her mother behind. The last gave her a pang. It didn’t feel right to leave her mother all alone. Then again, she’d be making more money in East Tennessee, and she could send most of that home. Best of all, what she’d be doing would be for the war effort. She could do something meaningful that would help bring her father home soon. Surely, that would justify her decision. And, when they succeeded, her father would come home and her parents would have each other. She was eighteen for cripe’s sake. It was time for her to be out on her own.

  She began to pace. There was so much to do. She needed to pack, tell Doc she was quitting, find the bus schedule, and get a ticket. Maybe she should make a list. But if she made a list, her mother might find it. No, better to keep everything in her head.

  She would have to tell Doc at just the right time, or else her mother would know something was up. That would be disastrous. She’d insist that Mary stay, and they’d have a terrible row. Secrecy was paramount. She was sure of it.

  She bounced on the bed and barely kept herself from squealing with joy. Mary Trask was striking out on her own. She’d show the world what she could do, oh yes, she would.

  It’s the last day you’ll have to be subjected to this. It’s the last day you’ll have to be subjected to this. It’s the last day you’ll have to be subjected to this. Nora kept repeating the mantra in the hope that it would prevent her from an ugly verbal confrontation with these over-confident, bilious, buffoonish boys. Every day since she’d arrived, it had been the same scenario. After today, she would graduate from training on the XAX to working with her cubicle operators. She couldn’t wait to get started.

  “The output would be vastly improved if the ratio…”

  Nora tuned out Berkeley Boy C. She’d taken to using letters to delineate between the Berkeley Lab scientists, all of whom were convinced that they alone could improve production outputs and the efficiency and efficacy of the calutrons. Except for Del. Del had been universally respectful and kind.

  “We can’t even get these to behave properly. There’s not the slightest chance that some barely educated teenage girl is going to be able to operate this machine.”

  “It’s a fool’s errand.”

  Finally, Nora had had enough. “It may well be a fool’s errand, but it’s my responsibility, and you can be sure that not only do I take it seriously, but I will make it work.”

  “It’s nothing personal, Nora,” Del said. “You’ve experienced firsthand the difficulties we’ve encountered. These girls aren’t being trained to problem solve. They’re being given a rudimentary explanation and told to keep the needle between two points. They don’t understand why; they don’t know the science. How can they possibly succeed, when those of us who have a full understanding of the complex scientific process are failing on a daily basis?”

  Initially, Nora had wondered the same thing. Then it had come to her. Her girls didn’t need to understand the science; they simply needed to get results. Sometimes, too much knowledge can be a hindrance.

  “The Alpha-1 calutrons will be online soon, and we’re not convinced we have a workable design. They’re still tinkering in Berkeley,” Berkeley Boy B complained.

  Nora prayed for patience. “Tomorrow I’m going to get a good look at the girls and the training your colleagues have been doing with them. Once I see that, I’ll know how to help them do what we need them to do. I recognize that neither you, nor your colleagues, have faith in this arrangement, but I do. When all is said and done and these girls produce the necessary results, you’ll be singing a different tune.”

  Her words held more bravado than she felt, but Nora had never failed at anything. She wasn’t about to fail now.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Mary glanced over her shoulder one more time to make sure no one was watching her. So far, she’d been lucky. She was able to sneak her suitcase out of the house when her mother was hanging the wash in the backyard.

  You’re nervous as a cat. Stop skulking around; it makes you look suspicious. She stored her suitcase in the locker at the bus station as she’d planned and managed to get out of there without seeing anyone she knew. Next, she approached the ticket counter.

  The man behind the glass partition looked bored. “How can I help you?”

  “I want to purchase a one-way ticket to Knoxville, Tennessee, please.” Saying it out loud made her stomach flip.

  “When do you want to leave?”

  “Tonight, please.”

  The clerk consulted his map of routes and scheduled departure times. “The bus leaves at 7:05 p.m. and arrives in Knoxville at 1:30 p.m. tomorrow. How many tickets do you want?”

  “One, please.”

  She fished the money out of her purse and handed it to the clerk. He handed her the ticket. Just like that, with a simple transaction, Mary changed the course of her life.

  After her shift at Meyer’s, she’d have an hour to get to the station and board the bus to Knoxville. For now, she’d have to hurry to be to work on time.

  Throughout the day, she went over the plan in her head. She wished she could’ve given Doc more notice, but the more she’d thought about it in recent weeks, the more she came to realize that the moment she quit, someone would tell her mother. In the end, she decided the only way was to tell Doc at the end of her last shift.

  She regretted lying to her mother that morning when she hinted that she might meet up with Sam for dinner. Naturally, her mother had been overjoyed. Perhaps she should’ve been honest and told her mother she was leaving for good. She imagined the argument that would have ensued and her mother’s histrionics and threats. No, it was best to leave without fanfare and ask forgiveness later—and from a great distance away. I’m sorry I lied, Mother. I hope it doesn’t take you long to find the note I left in my room letting you know I’m safe.