looked at me with wide eyes. “It’s the only way. Please, come with me.”
There was no choice. I could feel the train slowing down on the tracks, and I needed to be out of the car before we reached the steel mill. As much as I loathed Shin, I decided that being trapped with a detention guard was still better than being sent back to prison camp and punished for my escape. I held my breath and watched the ground racing by beneath my feet.
“Jump!” Shin shouted. Still holding my arm, he leapt off the platform. I hesitated a moment too long so that it was the weight of Shin’s body being jerked downward that yanked me out of the coal car, causing us both to roll and land dangerously close to the tracks.
A sharp rock broke my fall, knocking the air out of me. For a horrifying moment, my lungs were paralyzed and I couldn’t breathe at all. Shin approached to help me up, but I waved him away with a determined hand and forced myself to stand up on my own.
“How do you feel?” Shin cleared his throat and stared down at my feet.
I shrugged away his question. The last thing I wanted was to speak to this detention guard about my waking nightmare on the train. “Fine,” I declared through gritted teeth.
Shin shifted his weight back and forth. “We’ll need more food.” Shin eyed me up and down, standing several paces from me with his hands hanging limp and useless by his side. He had taken off his prisoner clothes in the coal car and now wore a drab civilian’s shirt and khaki pants. I still had Shin’s burlap coat over my gray uniform. Shin didn’t speak of my outburst on the train but only commented, “You look too conspicuous. You’ll have to stay here while I buy us some food.”
Shin helped me hide as best as I could in the outskirts of the city limits by what appeared to be some abandoned sheds. He promised to come back to me within an hour, and I waited in tortured uncertainty, wondering if it would be better to flee from Shin and his unforgiveable and dangerous past or to continue on with him to China.
I knew that there was no way for me to survive if I tried to stay there in Kimchaek. I had no papers, no trade, no relatives. I didn’t even have regular clothes. For a moment I contemplated abandoning Shin and trying to find my way to the Chinese border by myself, but thoughts of the Hamyong mountain range to the north kept my feet planted firmly on Kimchaek soil.
When he returned, Shin handed me a winter coat and lined snow boots. “Where did you find these?” I asked, unwilling to accept stolen goods as a gift from this National Security agent. Because I had been in Camp 22 since the worst of the famine, I didn’t know about the ten-day markets, nor could I have guessed that Shin planned our escape to coincide with a market day in Kimchaek where he could legally purchase food and supplies for the upcoming mountain trek.
Shin didn’t say anything. He shook his head and helped me cover my prison uniform with my new coat, taking painful efforts to keep from touching me directly. His delicate, almost fearful, treatment was humiliating. I grumbled a coarse “Thank you” as Shin handed me my shoes. I pulled them on awkwardly. They were the first boots I ever wore.
After Shin packed our new supply of food in the burlap bag that once served as my jacket, we walked northwest toward the interior of North Hamyong Province. Shin walked a pace or two ahead of me, every now and then glancing back and asking how I was doing. I refused to answer. Shin was in much better physical health than I. Even if I wanted to talk to my companion, the uneven terrain would have made any discussion difficult. It took all my focus to keep up with Shin’s pace without stumbling.
Shin and I stopped right before nightfall in a thick forest grove that sheltered us from the wind and the worst of the cold. We shared a small roll and ate a few roots, careful to ration our food to last for as much of our journey as possible. We
There was no choice. I could feel the train slowing down on the tracks, and I needed to be out of the car before we reached the steel mill. As much as I loathed Shin, I decided that being trapped with a detention guard was still better than being sent back to prison camp and punished for my escape. I held my breath and watched the ground racing by beneath my feet.
“Jump!” Shin shouted. Still holding my arm, he leapt off the platform. I hesitated a moment too long so that it was the weight of Shin’s body being jerked downward that yanked me out of the coal car, causing us both to roll and land dangerously close to the tracks.
A sharp rock broke my fall, knocking the air out of me. For a horrifying moment, my lungs were paralyzed and I couldn’t breathe at all. Shin approached to help me up, but I waved him away with a determined hand and forced myself to stand up on my own.
“How do you feel?” Shin cleared his throat and stared down at my feet.
I shrugged away his question. The last thing I wanted was to speak to this detention guard about my waking nightmare on the train. “Fine,” I declared through gritted teeth.
Shin shifted his weight back and forth. “We’ll need more food.” Shin eyed me up and down, standing several paces from me with his hands hanging limp and useless by his side. He had taken off his prisoner clothes in the coal car and now wore a drab civilian’s shirt and khaki pants. I still had Shin’s burlap coat over my gray uniform. Shin didn’t speak of my outburst on the train but only commented, “You look too conspicuous. You’ll have to stay here while I buy us some food.”
Shin helped me hide as best as I could in the outskirts of the city limits by what appeared to be some abandoned sheds. He promised to come back to me within an hour, and I waited in tortured uncertainty, wondering if it would be better to flee from Shin and his unforgiveable and dangerous past or to continue on with him to China.
I knew that there was no way for me to survive if I tried to stay there in Kimchaek. I had no papers, no trade, no relatives. I didn’t even have regular clothes. For a moment I contemplated abandoning Shin and trying to find my way to the Chinese border by myself, but thoughts of the Hamyong mountain range to the north kept my feet planted firmly on Kimchaek soil.
When he returned, Shin handed me a winter coat and lined snow boots. “Where did you find these?” I asked, unwilling to accept stolen goods as a gift from this National Security agent. Because I had been in Camp 22 since the worst of the famine, I didn’t know about the ten-day markets, nor could I have guessed that Shin planned our escape to coincide with a market day in Kimchaek where he could legally purchase food and supplies for the upcoming mountain trek.
Shin didn’t say anything. He shook his head and helped me cover my prison uniform with my new coat, taking painful efforts to keep from touching me directly. His delicate, almost fearful, treatment was humiliating. I grumbled a coarse “Thank you” as Shin handed me my shoes. I pulled them on awkwardly. They were the first boots I ever wore.
After Shin packed our new supply of food in the burlap bag that once served as my jacket, we walked northwest toward the interior of North Hamyong Province. Shin walked a pace or two ahead of me, every now and then glancing back and asking how I was doing. I refused to answer. Shin was in much better physical health than I. Even if I wanted to talk to my companion, the uneven terrain would have made any discussion difficult. It took all my focus to keep up with Shin’s pace without stumbling.
Shin and I stopped right before nightfall in a thick forest grove that sheltered us from the wind and the worst of the cold. We shared a small roll and ate a few roots, careful to ration our food to last for as much of our journey as possible. We
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