Short Story Saturday

Belinda rolled over, restless, hot, and cranky. The weather had been close to 100 degrees all week, and, like many others in the recent economy, her family had lost their home four weeks ago. They'd bounced around from cheap hotel to cheap hotel for the first few weeks, but, they were so financially strapped at this point that even cheap hotels were no longer an option.
Sighing, she pulled the stringy, plain brown hair out of her eyes. Her Mom braided it for her each night, yet, it was so fine and light that most of it always escaped the braid. Impatiently, she blew it out of her eyes and looked out the back window of the Durango. They'd been sleeping in it for the last two weeks, parked in the parking lots of various churches in the neighborhood. The sun was just rising, but it was already unbearably hot.
Quietly, she squeezed past her little brother, Charlie, and climbed out through the back window. Being careful not to wake anyone, she made her way half way down the block, to the local gas station that had a public bathroom they all used. The owner had been pretty nice to them, encouraging them to use the facilities as much as they needed. Cleaning herself up as best she could, Belinda sighed at her reflection in the cracked mirror. She'd never liked her hair color, and wished she could change it, like so many of her classmates were prone to do. Critically, she examined her face. "Too skinny" she decided. Her eyes, though, everyone said she had pretty eyes. When she looked them in the eye, that was. Shrugging, she turned away from her reflection, and exited the bathroom. To her chagrin, a group of construction workers were gassing up their trucks outside, and, seeing her, they began to whistle and call rudely.
"Hey pretty girl, looking for a ride?" one of them leered at her. Blushing, Belinda scurried away, amidst their laughter. More than laughter, though, she heard footsteps behind her, following her. "Great" she thought, and quickened her pace.
The man following her grinned as she quickened her pace, eyes alight. He like nothing more than the hunt. He'd been watching this girl for the last few weeks, studying her patterns. Knew that she was from a homeless family, who would not have the slightest clue she was gone. Until it was too late. He watched her try to get away from him, her lithe, youthful body moving quickly, not towards where her parents were, but, up the dusty road, toward's that fleabag hotel, the Time Travel Inn. He gauged her age to be sixteen, or close to it. He hoped she was still a virgin. He liked them better that way. Excitement quickened his pace, which quickened hers. She began to run. So did he. Cursing himself for daydreaming too long, he watched, as she darted into a room with a Fleur de Lys on the doorway. Grabbing the door before it slammed, he jumped at her, growling.....
And found himself, suddenly, laying on hard earth, with a mouth full of soiled hay. Spitting it out he cursed again. "Merde!"
Then, "where did that come from?" he wondered. He'd never heard, nor used that word before. Studying his surroundings, he saw a young girl, resembling the one he'd just been chasing fly out of the door in front of him, now dressed in a floor length, frilly dress, her hair now clean and curly. Looking down, he saw he was now dressed in rough spun clothing. And it STANK. Getting up, he was surprised to see he was in a stable....
Belinda kept running, despite the heels she now found her feet in. She'd run through that door, at that hotel, desperate to get away from that man who'd been chasing her. But the dark room had turned, inexplicably, into something more. Turned HER into something more. Looking over her shoulder, she noted the man was gone. For the moment. She'd seen him in the stable. Changed as well. She slowed down, to a walk, coming into a crowd of people. Smoothed her dress, which was a deep, peacock blue, she noted. A man came to her side, bowing. "Mademoiselle", he intoned, gleam in his dark brown eyes. "Might I accompany you to luncheon?"
"Non!" choose me! answered another man, this one blonde, with summer blue eyes, rushing to her side. "Giles, you cur, leave her alone" snarled the dark eyed man. "She is mine"
"Not in your wildest dream, Stephan" answered the other, drawing a pistol. Belinda gasped as the brown eyed man gently shoved her aside, facing the blonde man, who had also drawn a pistol.
The man in the stables circled slowly around the 2 men with guns, eyes still on the girl. She was to blame for this, somehow, he knew. He now wanted her more than ever, just to see if he could somehow return them both to the place they'd left. THEN, he would deal with her. What he failed to notice, was that the dark eyed man had indeed seen him. As he lunged for Belinda, he felt the agonizing pain of gunshot tearing through his chest, and he fell.... not onto the grass of earth, but to the cold, stinky carpet of a hotel room. The life left his eyes as his breath left in a sigh.
Belinda could only sit, and stare, at the space where the man should have fallen. Wrapping his arm around her, Stephan, the brown eyed man kissed her brow, and whispered "Come, cheri. We must talk". Numbly, she followed him....