Red Love by David Evanier Page B

you’ll want to struggle for real change.” Boston talked for three more hours about how mankind had advanced to a new level in the Soviet Union.
    Sid was hired the next day. Roger Whitman told him what a great man Hitler was, and how the Jews in the United States should be put on ships and the vessels sunk in mid-ocean.
    Sid’s thirty-dollar-a-week salary kept his family off relief. He repaid Pete by consenting to go to the Communist Party meetings in Jersey City, which he detested. He couldn’t hurt Pete’s feelings when Pete asked him to join the Party. He said that he felt he “must be adequately prepared” in the tomes of Marxism-Leninism-Stalinism and “steeped in the struggle” before he would be worthy to take such a step. Pete was moved, and tried to assure Sid that there “are years to go to drink from the fountain of wisdom of Marxism-Leninism-Stalinism; the Party will guide you.”
    In the fall of 1933, Sid was rehired by the Richmond Sugar Company. Pete kept coming to see him in Philadelphia, where they would meet at the Automat and Sid would splurge on his favorites, hashed potatoes and creamed spinach. Pete talked for hours about Soviet justice. Pete was also welcomed by Sid’s family at his home, where he was considered their savior for having given Sid a job.
    One night Pete began their conversation by telling Sid about yet another incident of discrimination so typical of American society. He had attended the Christmas party of his Jewish girl friend’s company. The party was sedate and dignified, with good, rich food. Near the end, a partner in the firm, who did not know his secretary was Jewish, rose and proposed a toast: “A Merry Christmas to all us Christians here. I am so thankful there are no others in this firm.”
    After a long pause, Pete said, “Sid, the Soviet people eat off rough bare boards. You can help them live a little better, a little more as humans should, by getting this information.” He said that he had met a man who worked for Amtorg, the Soviet trading company, in New York City. The man wanted to obtain—”unofficially”—a quantity of specialized information and data on American chemical processes. The information on paper fillers, vitamin D concentrates, and sulphinated oils could greatly benefit the lives of the Soviet people. It could affect education (paper), food (fish-oil concentrates), and clothing (sulphinated oils). Pete said a great deal more information was also needed about products made by the Richmond Sugar Company. It would go a long way toward making the harsh life of Soviet citizens, who were still in the first stage of Socialist humanism, less difficult.
    “Will you do this for the Soviet people, Sid?” Pete asked, that wonderful brisk look of love in his eyes, a look no one had ever bestowed on Sid before.
    Sid said, “I’ll have to think this over.” Actually, he had already made up his mind. His pulse was pounding. This was great. Pete was his benefactor. Sid had been living in sin for so long by avoiding the Communist Party membership Pete wanted so badly for him. He felt he had been breaking Pete’s heart, and hated himself for it. He had torn clumps of hair out of his head at night in anger at himself. Now he could please Pete, get him off his neck about joining that bunch of furry nuts in the Communist Party, and strengthen the Soviet Union, his people’s best friend, as well.
    How sweet it was.
    During the next seven months, Sid and Pete fumbled about trying to figure out how they could go about copying the data kept in the office of Dr. Bachrach, the director of research at Richmond Sugar. There were voluminous plant operation reports, blueprints of equipment. The reproduction costs were prohibitive.
    Sid worried himself blue about it, wondering what he could hock that would cover it. Could he ever correct his faults? In the meantime he did manage to provide Pete with the process for the manufacture of phosphoric acid. This was a