The Green Glass Sea (8 page)

“Yeah, great stuff today. Look, shingles!” Charlie pointed to a stack of sand-encrusted rectangular plates, the size and shape of books but as thin as records, that lay in his wire bike basket. “It's the last of Morganville, and there's enough to cover our whole roof. Maybe now it won't leak when it rains. ”

“That'll be good, ” agreed Dewey. She looked over at the wood bins, which were divided into pine, hardwood, and painted wood, each of them full to overflowing. “Is it just lumber today?”

“Heck no, ” said Jack. “They musta moved a bunch of labs, 'cause there's about a ton of that busted-up machine junk you like. Over there. ” He pointed at the far fence, where a spiky jumble of steel and chrome glinted in the summer sun.

Dewey grinned and took a pair of brown leather gloves from the wagon and put them in her pocket. The gloves were way too big for her hands and made sorting clumsy, but sometimes the machines were really busted and their edges were sharp, or there was broken glass.

“What're you looking for?” asked Charlie, walking along beside her as they made their way to the scrap pile.

“Something interesting. I don't know yet. ”

The first thing she saw was two pieces of copper tubing, one as wide as a cigar, the other smaller. She tugged on them and they came free easily. Each was about two feet long, which meant that she'd have to cut them down with her hacksaw, when she figured out what they were for. She laid them off to one side in the dirt.

Her pile grew over the next few minutes as she added some polished metal discs as big around as coffee cups, an alarm clock with a broken-off key, and a gray metal box with two nice black Bakelite knobs. Her hands were gray from rummaging through metal parts, and she was sweaty. Just a few more minutes, then she'd call it a day and go home and start to dismantle what she'd found. She smiled at the alarm clock with anticipation. That was going to be fun.

“Hey, look at this, ” said Charlie, to her right. Dewey went over to look.

“It's a typewriter, ” she said excitedly. She tugged and pulled and pushed on the black steel frame until it came free and crashed to the ground, a small avalanche of metal cascading around it.

Charlie looked down at it. “The roller thing's missing. It won't work. ”

“I know. I just want the bell. And the springs. And the keys are neat-looking. I can probably do something with them. ” Dewey squatted down to pick up the typewriter, and staggered to her feet under its weight.

“Here, ” said Charlie. “Lemme do that. ” He took it out of her arms and walked easily over to the wagon, which sounded a hollow metal clang when he dropped the typewriter in.

“Thanks, ” Dewey said.

"S'okay. Can you get the rest? We gotta load the boards onto our bikes and get going. ”

“Sure. ” Dewey pulled the knobs off the gray box and carted the rest of her treasures to the wagon intact. She loaded them one by one, writing each down in her notebook, along with the date.

The boys were still struggling to balance Jack's bike and tie the lumber to its handlebars. Dewey hesitated for a second, then went over to help.

“I'll hold the bike, ” she said. “One of you can steady the boards while the other one does the twine. ” She reached over and took hold of the black leather seat.

“Yeah, that's
much
easier, ” said Charlie after a minute. He added another board, shifting it until it balanced. “How's your radio coming?”

“I haven't done much with it, ” Dewey admitted. “During the day the lab generators and the transformers make too much static, and it's not much better at night. You've got one up in your tree house, right? Is the reception any good?”

Charlie made a face. “It was. Until the MPs took it last week. Just a little ham setup, but when we broadcast they tracked down the signal. We weren't saying anything classified. Jeez, we didn't even give a location, just call numbers. But you know how it is with the army. We might be Nazi spies, so they snatched it. Do I look like a Nazi spy to you?” He kicked his sneaker in the dust.

“Well, ” Dewey said, “you are kind of blond. ” She smiled, so that he would know she was kidding.

Jack laughed. “Anyway, we found another one. ” He tied a series of half-hitches, then tucked the last bit of twine under them. “Just a receiver. A big black Zenith. It was a real
bitch
getting it up the ladder, but—” He stopped and his face reddened. “Sorry, ” he said. “My mom says I'm not supposed to swear in front of girls. ”

Dewey shrugged. “I don't care. ” Jack took the handlebars, and she motioned toward her wagon. “I'm going to take this stuff home. Which way are you headed?”

“The tree house is back behind the Sundts, ” Jack said, grinning. “Way back. Kind of on the other side of the fence. ” He looked over at his brother. “Maybe we could show her sometime?”

"W-ell, ” Charlie said, drawing the word out as if he was thinking. “No girls allowed. Usually. But, yeah, maybe.” He pointed a semi-stern finger at Dewey. “You can't tell, though. ”

“It's the Hill, ” said Dewey. “What can you tell?”

The boys laughed. “You wanna stop and get Cokes at the PX?” Jack straddled his bike, but gave up on riding it after a few wobbly feet and began to walk it out toward the road.

Dewey picked up the handle of her wagon and followed him. “The Tech PX?”

“Nah, ” said Charlie, walking his own bike. “Too far. The Trading Post over by the Lodge. It's right on the way. ”

SUZE AND THE
other girls walked slowly along the curving road, green-painted wooden buildings scattered on each side, some so new their nails were still shiny. The air smelled like sawdust and pine resin. Off to the south they could hear the pounding of hammers and the whine of motors. New people moved to the Hill almost every week, and the army was busy building more apartments and bigger labs.

The Hill was a funny place, separate from the outside world, filtered through the army. Suze missed the colors of the neon and the painted signs that had decorated the streets of Berkeley. She missed the comings and goings of a real city—streetcars, milkmen and ice-cream trucks, newsboys and unfamiliar faces. The Hill was always the same, day after day.

They stepped to the side to allow a trio of army trucks to lumber through, lumpy green tarps obscuring the cargo underneath, and waited until the dust settled before continuing on.

“Which do you think is worse, dust or mud?” asked Joyce.

“Dust, ” said Barbara.

“Mud, ” said Betty at the same time. “It never comes all the way off your shoes, and my mother yelled all winter about her kitchen floor. ”

“Yeah, but dust goes
every
where, ” said Suze. “In your eyes, up your nose—” She sneezed very dramatically and was pleased that the other girls laughed.

Just before they got to the post office, there was a loud boom. They all stopped for a minute, and looked off to the south, toward S-Site, to see if there would be smoke this time. Some explosions were bigger than others. A few made booms loud enough to rattle the glass in the buildings' windows. But this one was just ordinary.

“That wasn't much, ” said Joyce. “Let's go. ”

But Betty stood still, her mouth open. “Look, ” she said, pointing.

Suze followed Betty's finger. Two boys were walking their bikes on either side of a small figure with a red wagon. They had just come around the corner of the post office, and were heading their way.

“Oh great, ” said Joyce, groaning. “It's Screwy Dewey and her little red wagon. ”

Dewey Kerrigan was the weirdest girl Suze had ever met. It wasn't just that she was smart and wore glasses. Lots of kids on the Hill, Suze included, had been the smartest kids in their old schools. But Dewey didn't play with the other kids. She spent every recess at one of the picnic tables next to the playground, fiddling with her stupid radio, or some broken garbage with wires and springs, taking notes about it, like it was homework.

“But why's she with Charlie?” asked Betty, frowning. She said Charlie's name in what Suze thought of as her girly-girly voice. She'd had a crush on Jack's brother all summer. Suze rolled her eyes.

“She's not
with
them, ” Joyce said. “They're just walking on the same road. Why would they be hanging around with that four-eyed gimp?”

Barbara nodded. “If I had to wear that ugly shoe, I'd never leave my house. ”

Suze didn't know what was wrong with Dewey's leg. She always wore one normal shoe and one brown shoe that laced up the side and had a thick rubber sole, which meant she couldn't run for beans. That was probably why she never played Red Rover or anything. She wouldn't be any good at all.

The boys stopped about ten feet away, and it looked like maybe they
were
with Dewey, because she stopped too. She stood a few feet back, partially hidden by their bikes.

“Hi, Char-lie, ” said Betty. She was trying to sound like a movie star, all smooth and breathy, but Suze thought she just sounded dopey.

“Hey, kids, ” said Charlie.

Betty frowned.

“Where are
you
going?” Joyce asked.

“None of your beeswax, ” said Jack.

“
We're
going to the Tech PX for Cokes. You wanna come?” Betty said it as if it had been her idea all along.

“Nah. ” Charlie shook his head. “We got plans. ”

“No
girls
allowed, ” said Jack.

“And Screwy Dewey doesn't need to go to the PX, ” Joyce said. “Not as long as the
dump's
open. ” She walked over and poked the alarm clock with one finger. “Why buy anything when you can pick through other people's trash?”

Dewey looked right at Joyce, but said nothing.

“Hey, leave the kid alone, ” said Charlie. He took a step forward, but the load of boards on his bike began to wobble and slide. He steadied it, then rattled some coins in his pocket. “C'mon, Dewey. Let's go to the Trading Post. I babysat for Teller's kid the other night, so I'm flush. I'll blow you to a Coke. ” He gestured to the building up ahead on their right.

Betty looked at Charlie, wide-eyed. “You're buying her a Coke?”

“She's a good egg, ” he said. He glared at Betty for a moment, then gave his bike a shove and started walking. Jack followed, and after a moment, so did Dewey.

“
Rotten
egg's more like it, ” said Suze loudly, so the other girls would know she was on their side. She waited for a reaction, and when none came, said, "C'mon, the heck with them. Let's get those Cokes. ” She gave Joyce's arm a buddy punch, not very hard at all.

“Ow. ” Joyce frowned, rubbing her arm. She watched the rolling trio disappear around the corner of a building. “Yeah, okay. ”

To get to the Tech PX, they had to take the road between the post office and the Commissary, then turn down another road that ran along the side of the Tech Area, with its high, barbed-wire fence. The T had its own gate and was off-limits for anyone without a white badge. Both Suze's parents worked inside.

“Hey, how 'bout that shortcut?” she said, as if she'd just remembered it. “The boys told me about it the other day. They said it's
much
faster. ” She looked at Betty to see if she was impressed.

“What kind of shortcut? You can't get through anywhere. It's all fences, ” said Betty.

"The boys do, ” said Suze. “C'mon. ” She stepped off the road and onto the hard-packed dirt beside it. The only real difference between the two surfaces was that the dirt of the road was raked and had tire marks, and the ground was webbed with cracks where the flat plane of mud had dried.

The other girls looked at Betty, who shrugged. “I guess so. ”

Suze led them down a narrow strip between the white clapboard post office and the long, two-story Gamma Building, which was painted green and had a barbed-wire fence around it.

“That's my dad's new office, ” said Joyce. “He calls it the Gadget Building, because that's what they're making. He says they had to give it the Greek letter, gamma, because the Tech Area already
had
a G Building. ” She sounded very important.

“I knew that, ” said Suze. Everyone's father was working on some part of the gadget, whatever it was. Some kind of big gun, she figured. Building it was going to end the war, which was why they were all here. She hadn't known about the Greek part, though. She didn't even know Greek had a different alphabet. Daddy probably did. She'd ask him at dinner.

She walked along the edge of the fence, trailing her fingers through the lattice of thin wires, feeling the inaudible thrum, like a cheap toy guitar. She picked up some pebbles and tossed them into the Pond, visible again on their right, watching the ripples radiate out from each impact, the edges of the circles sparkling in the sunlight.

A few minutes later, Betty stopped walking. “Now what?” she asked in a smug voice that sounded like she had also said “I told you so. ”

They all stopped. The Gamma Building and its fence were on their left, and directly ahead of them was the six-foot chain-link fence that surrounded the Motor Pool. It stretched off to the right for more than a hundred feet, then turned a corner. A narrow strip of dirt separated the fence from the end of the Pond.

“This isn't a shortcut, ” said Joyce. “Walking around the Motor Pool is even longer than taking the road. ” She glared at Suze.

Suze faltered, then forced a big grin. “But we're not going around. ” She unlooped her shoes from around her neck and sat down in the dirt to put them on. “We're going through. ”