Chapter 8 Comfort and Betrayal

The automatic assembly line was a thing to behold. The beautiful gadgets that her father had patented had taken the backburner to things that would benefit the Allied force. The company had contracts with the government at the moment and everything, it felt, had been modified to produce what the US government needed. Rows of women with hair pulled up by a handkerchief, sleeves pulled up to their elbows, and their eyes focused on their work. Everything was done in quick fashion-and at one of the rows there were trays of separate parts being put together by another group of women.

It was at one such area that Morris pointed his finger, suggesting that Belle put herself there. One woman diligently put screws in a certain piece and her face was set in steady focus, Belle could almost see sweat glistening as she threw one very quick glance at the master of the plant and her eyes were worried.

She could well understand the poor woman's worry. Belle had arrived that morning with Morris and followed him into the office where he had begun to pour through books, muttered curses at this overseer or that one (there were only two-while it was true that the company had grown quite large, in comparison to the size of the town anyway, it was still small in comparison to the larger plants in the larger cities), and he had promptly forgotten that Belle stood at attention, waiting to be told what to do or where to go. An hour later he glanced her way and almost started.

'What are you still standing there for? Why can't you make yourself useful?' He groaned a moment, Belle stood straighter and was about to counter when he continued. 'I guess I need to show you today, but after today I want you to take some initiative and not make me have to hold your hand through the whole thing.' He always alluded to Belle being a child-her lip went into a thin line. 'You'll go right away and find something to be doing. Work doesn't start until 9, but I'll get one of the girls to show you the different tasks, so you can find something to begin working on-you can finish any products that didn't get assembled on the trays until the girls come and then go back to your normal task unless directed by an overseer. Do you understand? Think you can handle that?' She only nodded and followed him as directed.

Now he was pointing his finger towards the girl and telling Belle to join her. Each product got three screws on each side before sliding to the next post. That was the job. It never changed for the poor girl-six screws and passed it on.

'I'll get someone to show you the other tasks on lunch break, I have too much to do to direct it now. Thankfully for you these are all jobs that take no actual skill to complete.' So she was not only a baby in his eyes but an idiot, apparently. 'Meet me in the office when the bell sounds off for the work day to be over.' And he left. Belle took up a screwdriver and began.

It had been a long day. Belle had not been shown lunch things to make while helping Cathy in the kitchen that morning, and so she spent the entire lunch hour being shown the different areas in the plant and what buttons to push for what, and then shown how to assemble each product in the tray. By the end of the day the screws had become blurry silver spots and her eyes had become heavy, her arms aching. She was grateful to hear the bell and went to find Morris in his office.

'I've got a meeting in a few minutes.' Morris said with hardly an acknowledgement of her presence. 'I want you to take notes, my secretary is home today-c'mon.' and so she found that it was another hour and a half before she was back at Morris' house. Cathy had dinner ready and Belle tucked into it-her first real meal in days, having no appetite for so many days after her papa's passing. Cathy and Belle began picking up the dishes and Morris looked over at Belle in an annoyed way when Belle meant to sit back down a moment to rest after the day she had experienced.

'So Cathy cooks for you and you expect her to wait on you hand and foot? You should offer to wash dishes for her and let her have an evening with the boys.' He had leaned over almost conspiratorially, and he had changed his tone to something like friends, which he had shown he was not. He said it like a suggestion, but she heard it for what it was, a command. Belle thought doing dishes might be preferred to an evening sitting across the living room with Morris, so she said 'alright' and then offered to wash for Cathy.

The boys pulled her this way and that when she was done, and Morris seemed too buried in his paper to notice until Belle told the youngest she was too tired to play some game he had requested.

'You know, part of becoming an adult is doing things you don't care to do, even when you are tired. Why don't you go play with him, Belle.' She again saw this as a command, not a suggestion, and she had become too tired to argue.

She had already fallen asleep before Cathy or Morris left for the evening. She hardly noticed the cold of the living room this time, but trembled in unconscious sleep under the covers she had been provided.

…

In two weeks she had become more used to the routine, though evenings once work was over was always unpredictable. Every time she thought she had found a way to make Morris finally content with her, he found some way to make her feel only inches tall. When again acting as secretary, Morris looked critically at the clothes she wore-they had been her least liked and most worn, as some of the jobs left dark smudges that made it nearly impossible to get out. 'You represent me and my company and it doesn't look good when you dress in such rags' she had made sure the next day to bring a nice dress to change into at the end of the day-thinking that she might just pass muster this time. No, that day he only needed her to copy some numbers into a book. He had again looked at her critically. 'This is a manufacturing company, not a garden party, Belle. What possessed you to wear such a thing? Don't you know it'll get dirty in here? I'm not giving you clothes whenever you like, you know.'

Belle had snapped at the comment.

'And what about me representing you and your company?' Her lips were held tight.

He had stiffened at her tone.

'You might have gotten away with that sort of attitude with Maurice, but I'll have respect-do you understand?'

'What did I say that was disrespectful? I only repeated your exact words.' Her hands were balled up in anger.

'You think I'm an idiot? I know what you were doing. Here I am taking care of you, providing for you, letting you live in one of the nicest houses in the area, eating my food, riding in my car and that's the tone you want to take with me? After all I've done for you?'

His tone got sharper and more dangerous (or so it seemed to her) and Belle collapsed within herself despite her ire. She could never understand Morris, no matter what she did, or what angle she tried to see him, and she was worried about making him too upset. She had never seen him physically assault Cathy , but the poor woman seemed ready to flinch at his every tone and had more nervous habits than any one person should.

Today was her day off and she had the grocery list in her hand, and she was more than happy to be out and about and away from everything. She was also grateful for a chance to go and see if she had received any letters. There were two from Ruby, one from Roger. She decided it best to read the letters in a quiet place before heading back from the store instead of reading them back at Morris'. Privacy was something she could never obtain there, so she opened them here.

My dear friend, Belle

You once told me that you were a friend that I could count on, that would worry over me-that you cared whether I came away from skirmishes safe or not. You told me that you prayed for me, and you have been kind enough to continue to write to me, even when you are in such times of sorrow. I want you to know you have such a friend in me too. You may be frank with me, and tell me your sorrows if it would help you. Please do not feel like you must do your own censoring for my sake.

I know that the Red Cross said that you have to be careful over what you say in case you discourage the fighting soldier, but I tell you that this soldier wants to know how you are, how you truly are, Belle. I am not a social person, I hardly have any friends, so I can not promise anything of great value in return, but I'll do my very best.

As far as my fellow soldiers go, since you already know my propensity for solitude, there are only two here that I hold above the office of mere acquaintance (though it's hard not to feel some sort of camaraderie among men you see day in day out, marching together in the brutal elements and in the face of death). Their names are Lieutenant Jeffries and Private Cassidy. Jeffries is about my age, and had a great hand in your letter ending up in my hands specifically. No matter what is going on around us, I don't think I've ever seen him without half a laugh about his eyes and mouth. Cassidy is a young lad-and while he is very young, his eyes are all grown up and mature. He's proven himself to be a strong lad and I've found myself impressed with his ability to stay calm and remain brave in the face of danger. I admit that I envy his bravery.

I have crammed every word I could onto this V-mail paper, and I only hope it's legible.

Your ever faithful friend,

Roger'

Belle turned the paper away so she could pour out her tears without fear of damaging the precious article. His concern for her was overwhelming. There he was in constant danger and he was going through things she could not even imagine, and yet he cared and wanted to hear what she really felt. She smiled through the tears and bit her lower lip as she recalled every dear word. He had comforted her, from all those miles away, and it made him more dear than words could express.

Thus was her feelings when she broke the seal to Ruby's, though reading hers made her want to fold in on herself and hug her middle.

'Belles! Pack your bag this instance and go over to Granny's and demand to stay with her, do you hear me? Morris is a ferocious tyrant, I just know it, and you'll not stay in his house one more day. Granny can manage-take half my pay if it will help, but get out of his house. I know your kind heart, Belle, but don't be a blind soldier, doing whatever that idiot Morris says-be brave and stand up to him. My poor Belles.'

The writing was in her sloppiest hand and almost unintelligible. It made Belle feel all sorts of emotions, but mostly shame and cowardice for not posing a stronger resistance to Morris, and worry over what she should do. If Roger's letter made her feel warm and cared for, Ruby's letter felt loud and commanding. They were both done with good intentions, she was sure of it, even on Ruby's part, but Roger's letter was the only one to make her feel a little less alone. She hesitated to open the second letter of Ruby's, but she took a breath, cursed her cowardice and opened the second letter.

'Oh Belle,

What a horrid thing you have for a friend. Not one word of sentiment or assurance of my love and prayers. You wouldn't have been so unfeeling, I'm sure of it. Ignore all of what I said before. I had gotten your letter after a long shift-I was tired and then suddenly angry on your behalf and ignored everything you said but that you were going to live with your mean old brother.

You do what you must, what is best. Granny will have you, I'm sure of it. Be well, Belle. I wish I was there. I would suffer any of Granny's glares to be there for you. As it is, you must see this letter as its replacement with every wish for you to be well.

Ruby'

She biked back to Morris' place, her mind contemplating the three letters, wondering what she should do, what she should write. Ruby's second letter had been much better than the first. If she was feeling better, she might chuckle and remember how many times Ruby's mouth had caused her trouble and she would say things she later regretted. She always said she tried to reel her words in and think before she spoke, but she was never very successful. Instead, Belle being once again the target of her unthought-of words hurt her in one sense, but also made her feel that she could also admit some truth to Ruby's words. She had been a coward. She had not fought against Morris. She had just been tired, sad, and not mentally able to counter his arguments. She decided then she would do better.

Cathy had a dust rag in her hand when she walked in and there was not a young child to be seen. She imagined that they had been sent outdoors-even with it as cold as it was, Belle could understand the need for even a half hour to herself. Belle almost felt sorry for interrupting her. Her facial expression did not hold that tense, worried expression that it seemed to do all the time and she smiled and hummed with the music on the radio. Belle was spotted, however, and while she smiled, it didn't go up to her eyes.

'Come along and I'll show you where to put anything you're unsure of. Did you happen to see the boys?'

Belle shook her head. 'They must be playing with the neighborhood kids. They'll come along shortly, I'm sure-It's so cold!' She shivered thinking about how despite the layers she donned, the cold seemed to penetrate even her warmest layer.

'Mmmm' Cathy agreed as they began putting away things.

'Cathy?' Belle's heart hurt and her stomach churned. Morris was gone at the moment. He had gone to her Papa's house to make decisions on anything they hadn't sold and to meet with someone on getting it ready to lease. The grocery store would have been out of the way for him, he had told Belle when he mentioned that she should save Cathy the trip and get the groceries, and so she had cycled in the cold. This also meant that she had an opportunity to talk to Cathy before he came back and hear her thoughts on what weighed heavy on her. Cathy had at least given her looks of sympathy, and Belle felt that she might be a kindred spirit.

Yes?'

Belle bit her bottom lip-her one nervous habit. 'I-I wanted to talk to you. I, um, feel like I am a burden to you all here, and I've been thinking about talking to Granny about staying with her.'

Cathy looked at her with quizzical eyebrows, but then seemed to look at her as if she understood. It gave Belle the courage to continue.

'Morris and I have never been close, and I don't want him to think that I am an obligation he has to put up with.'

'You and Morris are having issues, I suppose?' The groceries were now put up, and Cathy was playing with the ends of her hair.

'N-no, I suppose not, but I mean, he seems to not be pleased with me being here, and he hardly allows me any space or privacy, really, and, I don't know-I just think we would all be better off if I was somewhere else.'

Cathy nodded her head and went quiet.

'Please don't say anything to Morris. I'll talk to him once I've talked to Granny and figured out how to proceed.'

Cathy nodded her head and said 'of course, these are certainly things to think about-and think through.' and then went back to dusting, leaving Belle feeling better, having felt like she had found a listener in her sister in law.

Her hopes were dashed when Morris addressed her, the children around the table fumbling with bowls of vegetables and potatoes. His voice caused all but his to be heard and all eyes went to him.

'I don't think it's a good idea for you to go off and become a burden Mrs. Lucas…'

Belle felt embarrassment as his speech began, and she turned to Cathy, a look of betrayal she knew was written on her face though Cathy wouldn't see it as her face was down on her plate, and Belle rubbed her arms as her brother continued.

Author's Note: History stuff:I am being purposefully vague about what products they are producing, but you can google images of the assembly lines and the different things companies were producing for the war.

Women made up around 20ish percent of the work force during this time, which was up greatly from other decades, because of the men being gone to war. This would mean that Morris' plant has more women than maybe others, however, I felt like with Morris being a penny pincher, he would find a way to not have to pay as much in salary for his workers-thus hire a bunch of women.

Story stuff:

I know some were wanting Cathy to be the co conspirator with Belle, but since I am basing her on my aunt (who is married to a version of morris), she is taking a different turn. I'm going to give you my feelings on everything, and reasons I think she is doing what she is in the next chapter or two. Hopefully this doesn't make you annoyed, but it was pre-planned before I read your comments, I promise! I do have a sympathizer (s) coming up, so hopefully that will make up for it ;)