It was shortly after ten, and the movie had just let out. Alannah skipped out the doors of the theater and off into the night. She liked skipping; more fun than running, and faster than just walking. She skipped down the street past the closed shop that were either already dark, or had staff tidying up inside of them before they could depart for the night.
She felt a little bloated from her meal in the theater, but she knew that a little night air and a little exercise would take care of that quickly enough. She wanted to get home.
She hummed the closing theme from the movie to herself as she skipped farther from the cars filing out of the movie theater parking lot. Cars passed her in the street, but if they noticed her making her way down the street alone, they didn't let on.
Alannah's pink hoodie bounced against her rear end and her bright red hair bounced against the pale skin of her neck and her shoulders as she skipped; spots of fluttering colour in the darkness. The night was cool, but she didn't feel like she needed to wear it; she had only brought it with her for the afternoon anyway.
When the van pulled up next to her, she paid it no attention. When it slowed down to match her speed, she still paid it no attention. It was only when the driver called to her that she finally looked over at the dented and scratched product of 1980's American automotive know how.
“Excuse me, young lady?” The driver of the van called across the passenger seat and through the rolled down window, “Excuse me!”
Alannah stopped skipping, and turned to face the van. She brushed a stray lock of ginger hair from in front of her eyes, “Yeah?” she asked.
“Have you seen my dog? He got away from me,” the man, middle aged, pudgy, balding, said while holding up a blue nylon leash.
Alannah averted her eyes to the ground, “No,” she said softly.
“Well, would you mind helping me look for him? Four eyes are better than two, you know?” the man asked.
“Umm, I'll look for him. Does he have a tag so my mom can call you if I find him,” Alannah asks, still looking at the sidewalk.
“I was hoping we could look together. I have a little girl just like you, and it's her dog. If I come home without him, she'll be very upset.”
Alannah's face displayed a conflicted look, “What's the dog's name?”
“Bumberpuff,” the man answered.
“Bumberpuff? That's not a dog's name,” she giggled.
“It's his name. Can you please help me find him?”
“Well... I'm not supposed to get in cars with strangers,” she ground the toe of her right sneaker into the sidewalk as she spoke.
“Okay. My name's David, what's yours?”
“Alannah,” she mumbled
“Alannah?” He asked, and she nodded,” Okay, Alannah, now we're not strangers, right?”
“I guess so,” she answered hesitantly.
“So you can help me find Bumberpuff now, right?”
“I don't know,” she replied, almost in a whine.
“Okay, thanks anyway then. I suppose I should find someone more mature to help me anyway. It would be hard for a kid to focus enough to be helpful, I guess.”
“I'm not a kid,” Alannah protested.
“Sure you are. You're what, seven? Eight?”
“I'm ten, and I'll be eleven in two months!”
“Wow, almost eleven? Still, there's more to maturity than just age. Even if you came with me, how do I know you'd do what I say? My son would be crushed if something happened to Bumberpuff.”
Alannah chewed her tongue gently for a moment, then said, “I can help! I'll come with you, and find
Bumberpuff!”
“Okay! Hop in!”
Alannah climbed into the van's passenger seat, and David drove off with her into the night.
After driving around for a few minutes, both of them looking intently for the lost dog, David spoke up, “You know what? I bet I know where Bumberpuff went!”