A Risk Not Worth Taking

“Number, please?”, Lucy answered for the 100th time this morning. At this point, she was faster at operating the switchboard than her own two feet. She’d been working as a cable girl since 1946 and had found her calling in life, connecting others. Lucy didn't think of her position as dull or repetitive like the other women often complained. Though short-lived, she tried to imagine an invigorating back story to each dialer who rang. She’d envisioned connecting two lost lovers who’d finally mustered up the courage to call. Perhaps a son reaching out to his mother to reassure her he was safe. Maybe even two sisters gossiping over the flirtatious details of their current beau’s. Lucy believed she played a part in the lives of her callers by bridging their calls and that kept her picking up the line time after time.

“Number, please?”, Lucy answered in her contagiously soothing voice. A pause followed. Lucy was more patient than other operators and assumed the caller was struggling to flip through their Rolodex. She reengaged the caller, “Operator, how may I assist you?”. Finally, she hears a woman’s voice push through her receiver. “EAstwood 3-489,” the woman says in a pensive tone. Routinely, Lucy responds, “please hold while I connect…” Before Lucy could finish her sentence, the woman interrupts her, “What’s your name?” she asks. This is a first, Lucy thought. Interested nonetheless, she looked over her shoulder to see who was around. During her thorough training, she was repeatedly reminded to stay on script and to move the calls along as quickly as possible. When Lucy noticed her manager, Mrs. Fritz, was not far away, she reluctantly replied, “My name is Lucy, but please hold while.." “Lucy, I need your help,” the woman interrupted. Lucy was confused, she’d never been engaged like this from a caller, besides a few prank calls from kids here and there but never in such a serious tone. She searched for the appropriate questions to ask but instead said nothing at all. She just fell silent. Lucy watched the Christmas lights of call signals glow, knowing she should move on to the next caller. She hears the woman command her, “connect the call, be quiet and listen.”  

Lucy contemplated the word that contradicts everything she’d been taught about being an operator, “listen.”. The dedicated professional inside of Lucy urged her to drop the line or perhaps hand the phone to someone else to take the burden. However, the fantasist in her decided to connect the call and to remain on the line. Lucy's heart was pounding. She never was good at breaking the rules. The feeling in her stomach reminded her of when she was a child and she stole her mother's necklace to play dress up. The necklace got tangled in her curls and in fear of being caught, she chopped the golden ringlet right off of her head to ensure the necklace was not harmed. Had she not taken a single risk since that childhood memory? Where had that gotten her, she wondered… creating whimsical stories for everyone except herself? Lucy quickly snapped out of it when she noticed Mrs. Fritz creeping towards her call station. While the line was connecting she mouthed the words, “number, please?”, maintaining the appearance that she was answering new calls, suddenly the reality of her decision sunk in when she heard EAstwood 3-489 pick up, “This is John.”.

The woman’s voice filled Lucy’s ear again, “Hello, John this is Claire calling from Mr. Crane’s office, he would like an update on your progress.” John, full of confidence, responds, “Yes, of course. Please let Mr. Crane know that I have successfully located the target.” Lucy’s hands suddenly felt clammy against the plastic feel of the telephone. Located the target? Lucy’s mind was running wild at the possibilities of this statement. She pressed her neck scarf to the microphone in fear that John may hear her and she may never know who was located and why it mattered. Claire delicately asked John, “may I have the full name and location for Mr. Cranes note?”. John cleared his throat before sharing the details, “James Mobley - 343 Old River Way, Lynchburg Virginia”. Lucy’s head was spinning now, it took every bit of strength that she had to keep her fingers wrapped around the telephone. Claire thanked John for his help and disconnected the call.

Before the shock could settle Lucy instinctively scribbled down notes. John, EAstwood 3-489, Claire, Mr. Crane, and James… James Mobley. She circled the name repeatedly until her circle began to look more like a heart. Lucy briefly escaped her concerned thoughts and reminisced on the unforgettable summer she’d spent with her first and potentially last love, James Mobley. 

Lucy re-centered herself, careful not to draw attention to the panic and concern consuming her thoughts over her dear James. She had not seen him in almost 6 months, but not one night had gone by that she didn’t dream of him. Lucy met James at the county fair. She felt goosebumps rise on the back of her neck remembering the first time they’d locked eyes. James wasn't like her typical suitor, he was an unpredictable man, always on the move jumping from town to town. James was the risk that Lucy was always too afraid to take. There it is again, that word… risk. A bell chimes in the distance signaling the end of Lucy’s shift. She grabbed her purse, stuffing the notes from her disturbing call into the front pocket. 

The fresh air of the evening washed over Lucy’s face, awakening her to the realness of the conversation she had just overheard. This was not one of her made up scenarios, this could potentially be very serious. She unscrambled her thoughts to navigate to the nearest telephone booth. She dialed to an operator, and asked for the number of James Mobley. Lucy began to think about what it would be like to hear his voice, to experience the excitement of simply interacting with him again. The operator connected Lucy’s call to no avail, James did not pick-up.

Lucy reread her notes, 343 Old River Way, Lynchburg, Virginia. She couldn't believe that he was still in town. James repeatedly begged Lucy to run away with him. Lucy would always protest and wonder why he wouldn't settle down. Lucy was afraid of the uncertainty in leaving her life behind for love. This ultimately led to the demise of their relationship and she’d assumed he was long gone by now. Regret racked her brain as she reran the episodes of their love yet she couldn't help but wonder if this was fate bringing her back to him. 

In the spirit of taking risks, Lucy skipped her usual 6 PM bus and waited for the line that stopped by James' house. Lucy found an empty seat and leaned her head against the window. As the bus began to move she absorbed all of the familiar sights. She remembered the passion for life that she felt when she was with James and noticed that feeling reawakening at the thought of him right now. She shuddered as she recalled John's words, “I have successfully located the target”. Why would James be anyone's target? Sure, he was a mysterious character but James didn't have enemies, or so she thought. 

Lucy tugged on the pull cord as the bus approached her stop. Her knees felt weak as she stood up, wondering what she had gotten herself into. Lucy had no plan other than to tell James about the call between Mr. Crane and John. She was worried they had beat her to James’ house but could not stop to think about that right now. Lucy soothed herself by focusing on putting one foot in front of the other, she wished she was sitting in front of the switchboard right now where everything was safe and familiar. Before she knew it she was there, James Mobley’s house. She approached the doorstep, the one where she kissed him goodbye with tears soaking her cheeks. The same doorstep that she’d abandoned her heart at for the safety of her routine. She grabbed the brass door knocker with her trembling fingers and tapped it 3 times against the red wooden door. On the third tap, the door jarred open on its own. 

Lucy attempted to step towards the cracked door but her legs were numbed with fear. Her fairytale ideations of this reunion had quickly turned to anxious visions of what she might discover. Lucy gripped the door frame to pull her body forward into the house. 

The house was empty. The all too familiar feeling of losing James swept over Lucy and filled her eyes with tears. Lucy frantically paced through each room searching for signs of life when a ringing sound stopped her in her tracks. The telephone? Lucy wondered why James would leave that behind. She hurried to the phone and before having time to convince herself not to, she pressed it to her ear. “Lucy, is that you?” Lucy recognized the voice, it was Claire. 

Lucy’s words leapt from her tongue, “What is going on, where is James?”. Claire urged Lucy to calm down and told her to stay on the line while she handed the phone to Mr. Crane. “Hello, Lucy, great work.” a gravelly voice said to her in a thick southern drawl. “Great work? What do you mean?” Lucy asked, her voice shaking. Mr. Crane continued, “I had to test your willingness to bend the rules as well as your loyalty to James and you passed both with flying colors.” Lucy wasn't sure how much more confusion she could handle in one day. She wished she could sit down. Impatiently, Lucy responded, “What are you talking about?”. Mr. Crane explained that James had been working for the Central Intelligence Agency and based on her character and talents at the telephone company he’d recommended her for a position with the agency. 

James, working for the CIA? Lucy had no choice but to crouch to the floor stretching the telephone line down with her. Lucy searched every corner of her brain for something to say and could only give voice to the truth, “I am shocked.”. Mr. Crane strongly suggested that Lucy take a couple of days to consider his offer and meet him at his office on Wednesday morning if she wished to proceed.

Lucy picked herself up off the ground and started towards the door. Her conversation with Mr. Crane ran over and over in her mind and before she knew it, she was turning the lock to her own front door. She tossed her purse onto the entry table and sunk into the nearest chair she could find. Learning that James was a part of the CIA answered so many questions she had about him. He never let the grass grow under his feet, he kept to himself and didn't let anyone in. Except for her. Every disagreement they’d ever had dissipated with this new detail of James’ life. She romanticized the idea of accepting this job and working alongside James in a new adventure. Lucy knew the fantasy of it was fleeting beneath the fear of uncertainty that daunted over her every move. Lucy’s mind ran in circles until she was fast asleep from exhaustion. 

Wednesday morning was here before she knew it. Lucy rolled over to turn off her alarm clock as the events of the last two days came crawling back to her. Lucy decided she was tired of creating stories for other people and wanted a story of her own. She’d lost James in the past and she wasn’t going to let that happen again. Lucy stepped out of bed and went into her closet, she chose her most flattering plum colored skirt with a white silk blouse to match. She pinned her long blonde curls out of her face and applied a deep toned rouge onto her cheeks. Lucy left the house within the hour, her thoughts full of daydreams about what her future might hold.

She was ahead of schedule so she stopped in her favorite bakery for breakfast. She collected her coffee, picked up the morning paper and settled on a small table facing the street. Lucy glanced down at her paper and was immediately drawn to the headline, “Three Former U.S. Intelligence Officers Arrested for Espionage”. She turned the page to find the full article and before she had a chance to process what she had read, the coffee had flown from her mouth in disbelief. “June 2nd, 1951, U.S. Citizens James Mobley, William Crane, John Eastwood arrested for sharing U.S. secrets with the Soviet Union” the article detailed that the men were targeting telephone operators and convincing them to collect international intelligence on their behalf.

Lucy felt sick. The paper in front of her was spinning, the words moving in different directions. Her hands dropped to the edges of her chair to stable herself. Lucy was involved with national traitors. She felt used and wished she had never let her curiosity get the best of her. She remembered the lock of hair she’d cut to fix her mistake as a child, she wished she could cut off her ear to atone for her eavesdropping. Lucy sat silently for what felt like a lifetime. She checked her watch, 1 hour before her shift began. Heartbroken and confused with coffee stains on her white blouse, Lucy walked to her office. “One foot in front of the other”, she muttered but her calming tactics had no effect on her today. 

Lucy muddled through the revolving door and dragged her feet up the stairs to search for Mrs. Fritz. Once she found her, Lucy cleared her conscience completely, telling Mrs. Fritz everything and begging for forgiveness. Mrs. Fritz looked at her with pity, she gently cupped Lucy’s chin in her hand. “What do we say when we answer the phone?” Mrs. Fritz asked. Through tears Lucy responded “Number, please?”. “And then what?” Mrs. Fritz continued. Confused, Lucy replied “Please hold while I connect your call.”. Mrs. Fritz spoke softly now “Good, don’t forget it.” and with that Mrs. Fritz walked away, the sound of her heels on the floor echoing in Lucy's head. 

Filled with regret and wishing she had stayed within the safe confinement of her imagination. Lucy approached her call station, took a seat, straightened her back, and relaxed her shoulders. “Number, please?” Lucy answered for the 1st time this morning.