Chivalrous or Devious?

As I was walking home last week from my trip to the library and the wonderful café, The Well, I was asked by a male stranger in an SUV if I needed a ride. My initial thought was “Oh no, I’m going to die.” I politely said no thanks, which was followed by his reply of, "You sure?" I replied, “I’m sure. I’m almost home. Thank you for your kind offer.”  I gave him a courteous nod, and he drove off. End of story. 

This brought me to realize how complex the human psyche is. In his mind he could be been acting neighborly, helping out a fellow citizen whom the foreboding clouds threaten to drench with rain. Or… he could be a serial rapist, luring a vulnerable, naïve girl into his clutches. Or he could have been split somewhere in between the two, offering a good deed while secretly hoping for a reward.

The best thing for me to do is forget the whole thing happened, and make sure that next time I leave the house I don’t look like a hooker. Because everyone knows how provocative the tee-shirt and jeans I was wearing are (sarcasm). Or I could let my imagination unleashed and write two short stories to illustrate how we don't live in a rosy world anymore.

If my situation the other day were the opening page for an historical romance novel, it might read something like this:

Lady Elise struggled to walk gracefully through the debris on the road. The hems of her skirt were soiled from the rain. Splinters and branched stabbed and prodded her feet through her dainty slippers. The town was a sight of destruction from the storm that passed through the previous night. Young saplings had been uprooted, wise old trees had split in twain. The skies were threatening to pour a deluge of rainwater on the already melancholy acreage.

“I must hurry home before my bonnet is soaked,” Lady Elise gasped.

Suddenly, a white carriage pulled by six horses galloped down the street. It slowed as it approached her. Lady Elise turned her head so that she could see who was in the carriage as it went past. However, it did not pass. The carriage stopped, the door opened. Inside was a young man of nobility with golden blonde hair, blue-grey eyes, and a dashing smile.

“May I offer you a ride, m’lady? It would be a shame if you caught a cold from the impending storm.”

Lady Elise stood awestruck for a moment. “Can it really be?” she thought to herself. “I have been walking for at least a mile, wishing for someone I know to rescue me from this horrible predicament, and here comes a dashing young stranger to my rescue.”

“I would be eternally grateful for your kindness, thank you very much Sir,” she replied.

He helped her into the carriage, his dazzling eyes meeting hers, as she knew that the entire fabric of her life had been altered. That was the gaze of love at first sight.

BUT…..

That’s a highly unlikely outcome, reserved only for the crisp pages of paperbacks. Now, if this were a scene from a mystery/horror novel, it would go more like this:

Elise knew that something was wrong. The atmosphere gave her the creeps. Mangled branches hung from trees, the aftermath of last night’s catastrophic storm. The street was unusually quiet. Most people were staying in their houses because the street lights were down. Elise ventured to the library just twenty minutes ago to return her almost overdue books. Now she was on the road, walking uphill in the direction of her house.

“Almost there,” she reassured herself. She could hear the sound of the tires on the road, so she turned to see what it was. A white van had turned around the corner. It was coming towards her. She quickened her pace. It was difficult to walk too quickly, for she was wearing flip flops which did very little to obstruct the pierces of sticks through the bare skin of her heels. The car was gaining on her. She thought about running into the park, but it was roped off with caution tape because dozens of trees had crashed down during the storm. Besides, running further into seclusion was a bad idea. It was better to stay on the road, were people in their houses could see her and come to her aid if necessary.

The car was gaining on her. Suddenly, it came to a stop. The brakes let out a slow screech like the shrill resonance of a five year old playing a violin. The darkly tinted window rolled down, revealing a dark hooded figure in the driver’s seat.

“I’m going to make this easy for you. Get in the car, Elise,” commanded a low, gruff voice.

“H-how do you know my name?” She knew she should run, but her legs were petrified. Her fight or flight instincts failed to kick in.

“No questions,” replied her abductor. “Or else,” he added with a devious, crooked smile.

Elise got in the car imperiously, surrendering to her hopeless fate as the rain began to ooze down the outside of the passenger window.

Lesson of the day: Never get into a car with a stranger. Any kindergartner will tell you.
Second lesson: Don't unleash your imagination before bedtime. I actually couldn't fall asleep after writing that second story.