The Yellow Skirt

Nick lay under a dense oak tree, his head resting uncomfortably on the protruding roots, beads of sweat as big as soybeans dripping down his cheeks. His prison uniform wrapped in his waist, sticky. He lay there for several minutes before his breathing became normal.

He looked around, trying to estimate the time by the sun. At six o'clock that morning, he had escaped from the prisoner labor. Now, he guessed it was at least nine or ten o'clock. Someone in the prison had told him that a railroad passed north of this swamp, and Nick believed it. He had been running north from the beginning, but he hadn't found the railroad.

He sat up and leaned his back against a tree trunk, wiping the sweat that had run down to his eyes with the dry part of his sleeve. He squinted again, trying to determine the position of the sun, but, through the dense foliage, he saw only patches of blue sky.

He thought angrily that the man in the prison who said there was a railroad here was pure nonsense and should not be believed. However, when the old man spoke, he seemed serious, not like he was talking nonsense. The man had grown up in the area and had been in prison longer than the other prisoners. Nick cursed in his heart. For four years, he had worked hard inside the walls, working hard, so that he could be transferred to work outside the walls, so that he could take the opportunity to escape, and now, he had messed up! All because of that old fool!

He sighed, knowing that the situation was now very bad for him. The prison authorities must have set up sentries everywhere and would arrest him as soon as they found him. If he stayed still in the swamp, then the prison guards would soon be here searching for him, and once they caught him, he knew he would be severely punished.

They would take him back to the prison, put him in a short cell, and starve him half to death. Then they would take him to the quarry and either work him to death alive or keep him working until his sentence was over. Now, because of the escape, his sentence was extended for another five years. He really hated the old man.

He fell into a deep sleep, exhausted.

Nick suddenly woke up, and he seemed to realize instinctively that he was not alone. He opened his eyes alertly and found a girl standing nearby.

She was young, no more than seventeen years old, but she looked at Nick calmly, that look very sophisticated. She was wearing blue jeans and a short shirt, standing twenty feet away, and she looked at Nick calmly, without fear or unease in her eyes.

Nick looked up, sizing her up carefully, controlling himself not to scare the other girl. He didn't want to make the girl scream and run out of the woods and have people think he had done something indecent to her. Just as he was considering what to say, the girl spoke first. "You must be the fugitive," she said indifferently. "Dad called Mom and said a prisoner had escaped and told us to stay home and not come outside."

Nick blinked and licked his lips.

"You don't seem to be listening to him," he said, trying to keep himself composed, "Aren't they worried that you're with a fugitive?"

"I don't care if they're worried," the girl said arrogantly, "I've had a row with my dad, let him worry."

"You're mad at your dad?" Nick asked.

"It's none of your business." The girl said.

"That's true," Nick nodded, then slowly sat up, forcing a smile, "Miss, I must have scared you like this?"

"No," said the young girl seriously, "you do not look frightened. If you take a shower and change your clothes, then you'll be just like a normal person."

"Thanks," Nick said, mentally considering how to get the girl to help him.

"What are you doing lying under the tree?" The young girl asked, "Why don't you keep running before they catch you?"

"Miss, I really didn't know which way to run. I was looking for the railroad, and I was going to jump on a train and get out of here, but I got lost and couldn't find it."

"I think you've got the wrong direction too," the young girl told him, "the railroad is on the other side of town," she shook her head, "and it's no use finding it now, there's only one wagon a day that comes through, and it leaves every morning at five o'clock, so It's not easy to catch that train."

Nick licked his lips, estimating how fast he could run over and grab the girl. With her as a hostage, the guards would probably listen to him.

"Why don't you get up and find a place to hide?" The young girl asked in a stern voice.

"There's no place to hide," Nick replied, to keep her talking.

"I know a place," she said, as she broke off a branch of wildflowers and began to tear them off petal by petal. She doesn't look at Nick, humming as if she's deliberately ignoring him.

Nick frowned and asked, "What kind of place?"

"A secret place," she said smugly, "a place that only I know about in the whole world."

"Is that place safe?" Nick asked offhandedly. "Can I hide until the train comes in the morning?"

"The place is so safe that you can hide there for the rest of your life if you want," the girl replied, "Didn't I tell you that I'm the only one who knows the place."

"How far is it from here?"

"Ah, not too far," she answered vaguely, "and not too near, to cross a little river, otherwise the dogs would smell us."

"What dogs?"

"Don't you know, they are going to come to you with some dogs," she said, in surprise; "they are Mr. Luke's three dogs, which have won the championship, and whenever a fugitive escapes, they will come with these dogs to search for them, don't you know?"

"I don't know, I don't know anything about dogs. I've been working outside the prison for only a few weeks."

Both men stopped talking. Nick surveyed the girl and wondered what was better, to take her hostage, or to let her help him? Nick was sure she was willing to help herself, otherwise she wouldn't have mentioned the hideout.

"Hey," she finally asked, "do you want me to show you the place?"

"Of course I do," Nick said carefully, "I just don't understand why you're doing this?"

"Hey, you sound just like my dad," she said pointedly, "Do I have to have a reason? Can't I do something because I'm happy?"

"Of course you can."

"If you want to know about the place, you'd better come with me quickly, because I don't have much time left."

She strutted up a path leading deeper into the swamp, and Nick hesitated, stood up, and walked in silence for ten minutes. They followed one path and then turned into another, seeming to get closer to the center of the swamp with each turn. Nick became increasingly confused. He found himself quickly losing his way. He tried asking the girl.

"What does that secret place of yours look like, anyway?"

"You'll see," she replied mockingly.

"How far is it?"

"Not far." She said.

Nick could only follow her in silence.

Soon they came to a river, the girl bent down a few steps, turned back and found Nick still standing at the river, "Hey, hurry up and follow," she called impatiently, "you're not afraid of the water, are you?"

Nick frowned and asked, "Are there snakes in the water?"

"Of course not."

Nick didn't even bother to take off his shoes, so he got out of the water and came to the girl's side. The girl walked to the middle of the creek, then headed downstream.

"So the dogs won't find us," she said triumphantly.

They continued to walk downstream for a while, then the girl suddenly turned around and headed across the riverbank. Once on the bank, she walked to a patch of grass, dried her feet on it, and sat down to put on her shoes.

"You haven't told me what you've done," she asked calmly.

"What have I done?"

"What crime did you commit to be sent to prison?" The young woman asked.

"Oh, for stealing," he said, not mentioning things like armed robbery or rape; he didn't want to frighten her, better to make her sympathize with herself until she had no more use for her. "Why did you fight with your father?" He said, changing the subject.

"Because he's a most stubborn man," she said.

Nick sat down on the grass next to her and poured out the water in his shoes, "He's stubborn about what?"

"Stubborn about everything!" She said smugly, "For example, there was a yellow dress in the dress store in town that was very pretty and sold for fifty dollars, and my father said it was too expensive and wouldn't buy it for me."

"Maybe he doesn't have the money," said Nick.

"He has money," the young girl said with certainty, "he is the pharmacist of the town, the only pharmacist. He fills all the prescriptions for the doctors in town, so how can he not have money?"

"Well, he has his reasons," said Nick, "and parents always have their reasons."

"He's just stubborn," the girl got up from the grass and started walking along the river, and after a few steps, turned her head and urged him, "Hey, come on!"

Nick spat, stood up, and followed her. His two eyes showed a fierce glint; he didn't like being bossed around.

They walked for about two more minutes, then entered a path that twisted and turned, but got wider and wider, and soon he could walk alongside the girl. When they came to a clearing, the girl stopped and pointed with her hand.

"Here, this is it."

Nick looked at the clearing in front of him, frowned and asked.

"What's here?"

"Of course it's your hiding place!"

"Here?" Nick said, "I'm hiding in this empty space?"

"That just shows how appropriate this place is," she said triumphantly, "even you can't see it yourself!"

She walked to the middle of the clearing, knelt down, peeled away some loose dirt and removed a few thick pieces of moss to reveal a live door.

Nick walked over and looked at the live door curiously. It was made of wood and fitted with cross-shaped iron rods, with a heavy iron bolt next to the door, which slid into a concrete recess. Nick saw that the bolt was rusted. He probed over and looked into the dark hole below.

"This used to be a cellar to hide stolen goods," the girl told him, while proudly adding, "I found it when I was very young, and I never told anyone."

"Never told a boyfriend or girlfriend?" Nick asked slyly, "Not even to your mom and dad?"

"Of course not," she affirmed, "you're probably the only person who's known about it since the Civil War, other than me. This used to be a refuge for rich people."

Nick narrowed his eyes and peered into the hole. "What's down there?"

"Nothing but what I've stored," she said, "two candles, a box of matches. Come on, I'll show you."

She went down a mossy wooden ladder. As she entered the darkness below, Nick heard her say impatiently, "Hey, come on down!"

He hated this overbearing attitude of hers. For four years, he had been called on and called on, and he had had enough of it.

He put his foot first on the board at the top of the ladder to try to see if it was secure. The ladder still seemed stable under his weight, and he walked down with confidence. When he reached the bottom of the cave, the fire flickered, and the girl was lighting a candle with a match. She placed the candle on a natural clay shelf near the wall, fixed it, and then took a second candle to light it.

She handed the second candle to Nick: "If you want to look, you can look around, there's really nothing to see."

Nick took the candle and looked closely at the cellar. It was small, dry, and cooler than the swamp above. He ran his fingers over the walls and was surprised to find them very solid.

"The walls look like they're made of cement," he said to himself.

"The top is plastered with cement to make the living door stronger," she said; "perhaps you have noticed it."

"I did notice," Nick said, nodding, while stepping between the girl and the wooden ladder, "Now what?"

"You stay here, it's the safest place to be. I think that you must stay here for three or four days, until everyone thinks you have escaped. After they stop searching, you'll take the opportunity to slip down to the railroad tracks and hitch a ride away."

Nick looked at the gloomy cellar and said, "Three or four days is too long to stay here."

"Then why don't you go back to prison?" The girl shrugged her shoulders, looking as if she didn't care.

"Just so you know, it doesn't really matter to me whether you stay here or not."

Nick thought to himself, "I'm going to fix you up right now!

"What am I going to eat?" He asked.

"Food is not a problem," the girl said confidently, "I can bring you a gallon of water a day, some sandwiches, and anything else you need."

Nick put the candle on the shelf and leaned against the wall, looking at the girl skeptically by candlelight.

"You still haven't told me why you're helping me."

"There you go again," she said with boredom, "just like my father, everything has to be done for a reason! Can't I do what I'm happy to do?"

Nick shook his head, "People don't just help people nowadays unless they have a reason."

"Well, do what you want," the girl looked like she was spilling her guts, "I'm certainly not going to beg you to let me help you, so if you want to go, then go now."

With that, she walked toward the wooden ladder. Nick immediately blocked her path.

"I have no reason to trust you." He said.

"Oh my God!" She screamed in exasperation, "I found you in the swamp, exhausted, kind enough to lead you to a safe hiding place, and you say you have no reason to believe me!"

"You can run back to town and turn me in now." Nick said.

"To turn you in, I could have done it while you were asleep over the river," she reminded him, "and if I wasn't trustworthy, would I have gone to all this trouble to bring you here?"

"I've never met anyone like you," Nick muttered, "and I don't know whether to take your word for it."

"You're just like my dad," the girl said angrily, turning to the wall, her face buried in the crook of her arm. "No matter what I do, it's all wrong! I just want to find a place and die!"

With that, she sat down on the floor and cried.

Nick looked at her at a loss for words. He simply wished he hadn't met her. He knew that she was a useful hostage, but could also be a very good helper, she was right, she wanted to betray him, and would have gone to report.

He considered the situation at hand: outside, the prison guards were after him, and the railroad was on the other side of town, with one train a day, and only at five in the morning. He looked at the cellar; it was a nice place, a good place to rest, and she brought food and water every day ......

"All right!" He said suddenly, "Don't cry, I didn't mean those things I said."

"You," she accused in a stern voice, "I did you a favor, don't you disbelieve me!" She cried even more.

"I do believe you, see," he said, leaving the wooden ladder and moving out of the way. "I'll let you go here, just do what you want, and we'll do what you planned. Don't cry."

The girl sobbed a few times, stood up, and asked, "Are your words true? You're not going to hurt me?"

"Yes, I'm not going to hurt you," he said with a swing of his head toward the wooden ladder, "Go on, get up there!"

The girl hurriedly climbed the wooden ladder to the ground. Nick watched from below as she lifted the heavy wooden door and prepared to cover it.

"By the way," she said to the cellar below, "do you remember that dress I told you about? The one my father wouldn't buy for me? The one that cost fifty bucks?"

Nick looked up, narrowed his eyes and said, "Yes, why?"

The girl flashed a smile, the most evil smile Nick had ever seen.

"Ah, for your information," she said sharply, "the police are offering a fifty dollar reward to anyone who catches a fugitive. Only twenty-five dollars for catching a fugitive by passing on a tip. I've been thinking about that dress like crazy."

Nick stood there dumbfounded, watching the door slam shut. He heard the bolt slam shut, and he knew that he was a prisoner again.