Girl at the Underpass
Not long ago, a young man left Greensboro late one night to drive to his old home in Lexington. The young man knew the road well, but it was a thick foggy night in early summer and he drove slowly, especially when he neared the Jamestown underpass. Many wrecks had taken place at that spot. He slowed down on the curve leading to the tunnel and was halfway through it when his eyes almost popped out of his head. Standing on the roadside just beyond the underpass was a white figure with an arm raised. The young man quickly slammed on his brakes and came to a stop beside the figure.
It was a girl, young and beautiful, in a long white evening dress. Obviously she was in need his help. He jumped from the car and ran around to where she stood motionless. "Can I help you?"
"Yes." Her voice was low and strange. "I want to go home. I live in High Point."
He opened the door, and she got in. As they drove off, he said, "I'm glad I came by. I didn't expect to find anyone like you on the road so late at night."
"I was at a dance." She said. "My date and I had a fight. It was very bad. I made him drop me back there."
He tried to continue the conversation, but she would say nothing more until they were into High Point. "Turn at the next left," she said. "I live three doors on the right." He parked before a darkened house, got out of the car and went around to open the door for her. There was no one there! He looked in the back seat. No one! He thought she might have rushed up the sidewalk to the house.
Confused about what to do next, he thought that he had better find out if she had gone in the house. He went up the steps and knocked on the door. The door was opened by a white-haired woman in a night robe.
"I brought a girl to this house," he explained, "but now I can't find her. Have you seen her? I picked her up out on the highway."
"Where?"
"At the Jamestown underpass. She told me she had been to a dance and was on her way home."
"Yes, I know," said the woman wearily. "that was my daughter. She was killed in a wreck at that tunnel five years ago tonight. And every year since, on this very night, she finds a young man like you to pick her up. She is still trying to get home."
The young man turned from the doorway, speechless. The dim light in the house went out. He drove on to Lexington, but never has he forgotten, nor will he ever forget, the beautiful hitchhiker and how she vanished into the night.
It was a girl, young and beautiful, in a long white evening dress. Obviously she was in need his help. He jumped from the car and ran around to where she stood motionless. "Can I help you?"
"Yes." Her voice was low and strange. "I want to go home. I live in High Point."
He opened the door, and she got in. As they drove off, he said, "I'm glad I came by. I didn't expect to find anyone like you on the road so late at night."
"I was at a dance." She said. "My date and I had a fight. It was very bad. I made him drop me back there."
He tried to continue the conversation, but she would say nothing more until they were into High Point. "Turn at the next left," she said. "I live three doors on the right." He parked before a darkened house, got out of the car and went around to open the door for her. There was no one there! He looked in the back seat. No one! He thought she might have rushed up the sidewalk to the house.
Confused about what to do next, he thought that he had better find out if she had gone in the house. He went up the steps and knocked on the door. The door was opened by a white-haired woman in a night robe.
"I brought a girl to this house," he explained, "but now I can't find her. Have you seen her? I picked her up out on the highway."
"Where?"
"At the Jamestown underpass. She told me she had been to a dance and was on her way home."
"Yes, I know," said the woman wearily. "that was my daughter. She was killed in a wreck at that tunnel five years ago tonight. And every year since, on this very night, she finds a young man like you to pick her up. She is still trying to get home."
The young man turned from the doorway, speechless. The dim light in the house went out. He drove on to Lexington, but never has he forgotten, nor will he ever forget, the beautiful hitchhiker and how she vanished into the night.