The Atomic City Girls: A Novel

by Janet Beard

  “What are you upset about?” June was saying in a strident voice, the same awful shriek she had used on Cici before slapping her last month.

  Cici had spoken to some other girls she worked with about moving into their house; hopefully it would all be arranged next week. But in the meantime it seemed useful to be aware of any fighting between her terrible roommate and Dr. Cantor. Maybe she should have kept walking along the boardwalk to the dorm, but she turned and followed a few paces behind them.

  Dr. Cantor was saying something about tragedy; Cici couldn’t quite catch it. “Oh, please! What do you know about tragedy!” June screeched.

  They stopped moving and were facing each other. Cici stood across from them under the awning of a drugstore and fiddled about with a cigarette to look casual. Her heart pounded with the thrill of playing spy.

  Sam talked quietly. His back was to her, and she couldn’t make out the words. But soon June was at it again. “You’re not supposed to let it ruin your life—when you’re lucky enough to have a life!”

  Cici didn’t know what June was going on about, but her voice was loud and her tone angry. Sam said something inaudible and June yelled back, “Yes, I do! You’ve told me all your secrets. You know, I just realized how stupid you think I am, like those birds you can teach to talk, but you don’t think I understand anything. Well, I do understand! I understand just as well as you do what this bomb means!”

  June stopped, and both their bodies seemed to freeze on the spot. June looked over her shoulder, as though to see if anyone had heard, and Cici turned to face the wall.

  Bomb. Yup, that is certainly what June had said, Cici thought as she sucked on her cigarette. She blew the smoke out, wondering how best to use this information. It was only then that she noticed the colored man walking toward her. He had just passed June and Sam as well, and must have heard the same thing she had.

  “Hey!” Cici called out. At first the man didn’t seem to hear her and kept walking.

  “I’m talking to you, boy! What’s your name?”

  He turned to her. “Beggin’ your pardon, miss. I’m just on my way home and don’t want any trouble.”

  She couldn’t stand his cowardly tone. “What’s your name?”

  “Joe Brewer, miss.”

  “Did you hear that girl yelling just now?”

  “Please, I don’t want no trouble.”

  Cici’s voice rose. “Did you hear her?”

  “I wasn’t intending to listen in on any conversations. I just happened to hear her as I walked by.”

  He was practically cowering before her, pathetic. “Well, get on out of here, then.”

  “Yes, miss. Good night, then.” He scurried off.

  Cici got out another cigarette and began walking toward the rec hall. She hardly ever went there without Tom anymore, but she wasn’t ready to face June at home and needed some time to think through what she’d just witnessed.

  ***

  THE UNION MEETING was over by the time Joe found the rec hall where it took place. Shirley had told him where to go, but he wasn’t used to this side of town. And it wasn’t an official union anyway—even white folks lied about what they were getting up to there to avoid trouble with the Army, so he couldn’t ask anyone where to go.

  He had to walk through a gymnasium where young people were dancing to find the spare, cinder-block room where the union met. He knew folks were staring at him, and he was waiting for trouble at any minute, but none of the young girls or soldiers said anything about a Negro janitor wandering into their dance party. Two white men were still in the meeting room when he got there, sitting at a table, talking in low voices. They looked up as he knocked on the open door.

  One of the men, middle-aged and thin, spoke up, “Can we help you?”

  “Excuse me for interrupting. I’s looking for a friend, name of Ralph Hitchens. He comes here to the meetings sometimes.”

  The two men exchanged a glance. The second one, who wore thick glasses, replied, “I know Ralph. He was here on Friday.”

  Joe took a deep breath, wondering if these men were sympathetic or not. “I heard some folks here didn’t like Ralph coming round.”

  The man with the glasses nodded. “I’m sorry to say that’s true. There were a couple of young fellows who gave your friend some trouble that evening.”

  “Ain’t no one seen him since then. I’s just trying to find out if anyone here knows why.”

  The thin man stood up. “Now, see here. I don’t appreciate you throwing accusations around.”

  “I’m sorry, sir. I don’t mean to accuse nobody.”

  The man with the glasses sighed. “I haven’t seen Ralph or those men since that evening. None of them were here tonight.”

  The thin man sat back down, eyeing Joe suspiciously. But the man with glasses had a kinder expression. “I’m sorry. I wish I could help you. If Ralph does show up here, we’ll be sure to tell him you’re looking for him.”

  “Thank you, sir. I appreciate that.”

  He went out the door, feeling worse than he had all day.

  (Courtesy of the Department of Energy)

  Chapter 20

  SAM NEEDED COFFEE BADLY BUT WAS AFRAID OF ASKING JUNE TO get him any more. How had it not occurred to him what a bad idea it was, having your girl be your secretary? He couldn’t stand the idea of facing her again, at least not until he had to leave for lunch.

  He rubbed his aching temples and stared down at the pile of unforgiving paperwork in front of him. He was in no mood for this. He should have called in sick; then he could have avoided seeing June altogether. He cared for her—loved her even. But they were making each other crazy. Lately she was always in a bad mood, always nagging him about drinking. She was right, of course. She was right about all of it, which was the worst part. He was drinking too much. He took her for granted. Why did she want to be with him at all? He didn’t understand why she didn’t just leave him. It would be the best thing for her. Find a nice boy her own age. Or go away to school—she was smart enough. He wanted the best for her, wanted to help her. He used to think that he was helping her, but now he knew that he was not. The truth was that the kindest thing he could do for her would be to end it himself.

  On top of everything else, there was this business with his mother. His sister said the doctors were running tests to figure out what was wrong. Meanwhile, he needed to write and send some money for the hospital.

  The phone rang, and June’s line lit up. He let it ring three times. “Yes?”

  “You’ve been called to an emergency meeting, Dr. Cantor.” She always addressed him formally in the office. “It’s in five minutes, in meeting room D.”

  “Thank you.” Just what he needed on a day like this.

  June was typing away at her desk. He nodded slightly to her as he went out the door, and her lips rose in the slightest of smiles.

  Most of the high-level scientists and administrators in his area were gathering around a large conference table. Dr. Armstrong sat at the head. Even before Sam had found a seat, Armstrong began talking. “Gentlemen, there’s no point in delaying this further. Some of you may have already heard. The announcement went out on the radio ten minutes ago.”

  Sam felt his stomach shift uncomfortably as he guessed what Armstrong would say next.

  “This morning an atomic bomb was dropped on the city of Hiroshima.”

  Armstrong stopped for a moment, and the room was completely silent. The men seemed shy, afraid to look at one another. Sam had the terrible notion that he might start to cry, even though he hadn’t cried in years. He heard a voice from someone beside him. “We did it!”

  With that, the silence was broken, and everyone began laughing and shaking hands. Sam felt a friendly slap on the back.

  “Yes, gentlemen, we did it. That bomb was chock-full of CEW uranium. We did it.”

  Now there was applause. Sam wasn’t sure who started it, but soon they were all clapping, a couple fellows even cheering. H
e looked down to see his own hands taking part in the celebration.

  Finally Armstrong motioned for silence. “You should all be very proud, and there will be time for a great deal of celebrating as the day continues. But we do need to talk about how you will explain this to the rest of your staff. An announcement has already gone out on the radio and no doubt begun to spread across town. President Truman made a statement, a copy of which I have before me.”

  Armstrong tapped some papers on the table before him and began to read. “‘Sixteen hours ago an American airplane dropped one bomb on Hiroshima, an important Japanese army base. That bomb had more power than twenty thousand tons of TNT. It had more than two thousand times the blast power of the British “Grand Slam,” which is the largest bomb ever yet used in the history of warfare.’

  “The president goes on: ‘It is an atomic bomb. It is a harnessing of the basic power of the universe. The force from which the sun draws its power has been loosed against those who brought war to the Far East.’”

  Sam stared at the wood grain of the table. He’d remember this day forever, he knew—this room, these people. This was history.

  Armstrong looked up. “He goes on to explain the genesis of the atomic bomb program, then gets a bit more specific: ‘We now have two great plants and many lesser works devoted to the production of atomic power. Employment during peak construction numbered 125,000, and 65,000 individuals are even now engaged in operating the plants. Many have worked there for two and a half years. Few know what they have been producing. They see great quantities of material going in and they see nothing coming out of these plants, for the physical size of the explosive charge is exceedingly small. We have spent two billion dollars on the greatest scientific gamble in history—and won.

  “‘But the greatest marvel is not the size of the enterprise, its secrecy, nor its cost, but the achievement of scientific brains in putting together infinitely complex pieces of knowledge held by many men in different fields of science into a workable plan. And hardly less marvelous has been the capacity of industry to design, and of labor to operate, the machines and methods to do things never done before so that the brainchild of many minds came forth in physical shape and performed as it was supposed to do. Both science and industry worked under the direction of the United States Army, which achieved a unique success in managing so diverse a problem in the advancement of knowledge in an amazingly short time. It is doubtful if such another combination could be got together in the world. What has been done is the greatest achievement of organized science in history. It was done under high pressure and without failure.’”

  Armstrong put the papers down and grinned across the table. “That, gentlemen, was the president of the United States, congratulating you all.”

  More applause. Sam didn’t clap this time. He wanted nothing more than to know what he was supposed to tell his staff and then to go tell them. He wanted out of the smothering self-congratulation of this room, and fast.

  “Truman also goes on to name Oak Ridge as the location of one of the bomb-making facilities. Newspapers have been sent more thorough press releases going into some detail about the workings of the CEW, such as number of employees, exact location, and that magic word we’ve all been unable to utter to our wives and mothers for so long: uranium.”

  “Uranium!” the redheaded engineer said with a goofy smile. A few other men repeated the word with guilty grins, like children who’d said a bad word. “Plutonium!” said a scientist across the table, laughing hysterically. Sam felt himself begin to laugh, too. He felt wrong, horrified with himself even—nothing about this was funny—but even he had to admit, it was an extraordinary release to let go of the secrecy. He wanted to scream at the top of his lungs: “Uranium, uranium, uranium!”

  “So, boys, you’ll return to your departments and spread the good news.” Dr. Armstrong held up a stack of papers. “I have official statements here for all of you, which go over exactly what you can tell employees. You can talk about atoms, uranium, et cetera. However, I shouldn’t have to tell you that the specifics are still strictly off-limits. Don’t forget to thank and congratulate them all. This is a day for us all to feel proud.”

  ***

  JUNE WAS EVEN more efficient than usual this morning. She’d been in a sort of trance since the argument with Sam the night before. After she’d left him, she’d walked aimlessly for a while, ending up at the movies after all. It was a musical about sailors with Gene Kelly, not what she was in the mood for; still, she was enthralled by the dancing, moved by the music, and transported. She must be awfully miserable, she knew, deep down, but on the surface, she remained calm. She didn’t even feel sad, though she suspected that was coming later and would be devastating. Though she hadn’t exactly said it last night, in her heart, she had broken things off with Sam. It had been coming for a long time. She wasn’t happy; he wasn’t happy. He would never change. The night she had met him, he had been drunk and miserable. Perhaps loving her or being loved by her had cheered him briefly, but now he was the same drunk, miserable man as in the beginning.

  Another realization had crystallized in her mind overnight, and when she woke up, it had become a clear certainty. She used to love the way he looked at her, and wanted to be the girl he saw. But now she knew that she was that girl and always had been. She was thankful to him for seeing more in her than she had recognized in herself and helping her to also see it. But he wasn’t responsible for it; she alone was responsible for who she was.

  Her concentration was broken by a cautious tapping at the door. “Come in!” she called, and Barbara, another secretary from down the hall, appeared, an expectant look on her face.

  “Have you heard?” asked Barbara.

  “Heard what?”

  “It’s all over the radio. An atomic bomb”—June’s eyes widened despite herself—“has been dropped on a city in Japan. It’s the most powerful weapon ever created and it’s what we’ve been working on here at Oak Ridge. We can talk about it now! President Truman has told the whole world about Oak Ridge. And they say this will end the war.”

  Barbara’s enthusiasm boiled over into giggles. June was standing motionless, her mouth half open, a tingle rising up through her body out toward her limbs. It was just as Sam had told her. Something was happening, something big, and she was a part of it.

  A smile broke out across her face. Barbara, whom she hardly knew, ran over to her desk and embraced her. June hugged Barbara back, and it didn’t feel strange at all to be in the arms of a practical stranger.

  Barbara pulled away. “It’s why they called the emergency meeting. I think we’ll all be called into a meeting soon. But I’ve gotten calls from two girlfriends about it already. Everyone in town has already heard.”

  Barbara left, and June sat down at her desk. There was no returning to typing now; she was too wound up. All this time, all this work, all the secrecy, and it was finished. They had done it. The war would be over.

  There was in fact a meeting. Sam stood in front of a crowded room and read from a statement. The president congratulated them all and thanked them for their hard work. At first the employees were quiet, but then someone began shouting, someone else laughed, others clapped, and the room erupted in noise. Sam smiled politely, but June could see the distress in his eyes and knew he’d be into the whiskey as soon as possible.

  The celebration moved outside. No one bothered to clock out; June asked Barbara if they should as the crowd swept them past the clock alleys, but Barbara just laughed. “No one’s clocking out. Look!” There were girls and men everywhere, all rushing out of Y-12 into the parking lot, everyone headed to the bus stop. Work had unofficially been called off; people wanted to get home, to their families and friends. Everyone wanted to celebrate with someone they loved.

  June hadn’t bothered looking for Sam after the meeting. She’d gotten caught up with the crowd and decided to stay close to Barbara for some protection, just in case they did get in trouble for leav
ing early. Part of her wanted to be with Sam right now, sure, but a more persuasive part didn’t want the excitement of the moment and these people to be ruined by his guilt and melancholy. Maybe she could try to find her sister, though she didn’t really know how that would be possible. By the time she had squeezed onto a bus, it was clear the whole town was on the streets.

  Church bells were ringing. Strangers on the bus were patting each other on the back, singing “God Bless America.” As they drove into the center of town, the bus had trouble getting through the crowds of pedestrians clogging the streets. Two boys on bicycles rode down the sidewalk waving huge American flags and cheering. A man and woman were necking right on the side of the street for everyone to see. Almost everyone had a newspaper and was reading it or waving it in the air.

  The newsboys were ready at the bus stop. “Extra, extra, pictures of Oak Ridge!”

  “I’ll take one,” said June, without even looking to see which paper it was.

  “One dollar,” said the boy.

  “Really?”

  “That’s the price today.”

  June found a dollar in her purse and took her copy of the Knoxville News Sentinel. “Atomic Super-Bomb, Made at Oak Ridge, Strikes Japan,” it read in huge block print. Above that in smaller letters, “Oak Ridge has over 425 buildings.”

  She read the paper and walked, smiling at strangers, nodding to everyone. It was like Christmas, when everyone’s friendly with everyone else. She heard snippets of conversation as she walked: “I knew it was a bomb!” “But what is uranium?” “As far as I’m concerned, we keep dropping them until Japan is wiped off the map.”

  June stopped and stared at the girl, no older than herself, who’d made the last comment. They made eye contact, and June didn’t disguise her contempt. “What?” the girl said. She had a sharp, rodent-like face. “The Japs killed two of my brothers, don’t you look at me like that!”

  The two other girls she was talking to put their hands on her shoulders and muttered calming words; June turned and kept walking. The euphoric feeling which had carried her thus far was gone. She wanted to cry. Mostly, though, she had a sudden and urgent desire to find Sam.