I snatched the novel from his hand before he could drop it. “It’s a book, and that’s not how you treat it.” This is what happens when you’re raised by a librarian. Even though I had refused to read books for years, I still couldn’t stand to see one ruined. I reshelved it with a forceful thud. “Chrissy,” I hissed toward the ceiling. “We really need to talk.” My giddy-fan feelings for Robin Hood were fading fast. These men didn’t belong here, and they had to go back before my dad or Sandra discovered them here.
A car passed by our house, and Robin Hood and Little John simultaneously gasped.
Little John leaned into the window until his nose touched the glass. “What strange manner of beast was that? Lights streamed from its face.”
“A car,” I said. “They’re one of the twenty-first century’s very useful things. They’re faster than horses and easier to take care of.” Robin Hood put one hand on the glass and peered farther down the street. “Are they friendly?”
“They’re not alive. They’re machines, like …” but I couldn’t think what machines they had back in the Middle Ages. “They’re tools.
When you turn the key, they start up so you can drive them down the street.”
59/356
Friar Tuck had finished going through my jewelry box and stuffed several rings and necklaces into the pockets of his robe. None of them were expensive, but still. “Hey, stop that,” I said walking over to him.
“You can’t take those.”
He smiled a nearly toothless grin. “I’m simply admiring them.”
“Well, admire them in my jewelry box, not in your pockets.” Another of the Merry Men had thrown open my closet and pulled out shirts. “Behold the finery,” he called to the others. “Her wardrobe puts the king’s to shame.” And then he looked at me accusingly, as though I had been hoarding shirts.
“Everyone has a lot of clothes now,” I said, and went to take the hangers from his hand. “I’m not one of the rich, if that’s what you’re thinking. Far from it.”
Robin Hood still scanned the street. “Wench,” he called to me,
“how can I procure one of these cars?” Wench? “My name is Tansy,” I said. “And will you please tell your men to stop pawing through my stuff?” Robin Hood glanced lazily around the room. He let out a bird whistle and the men grudgingly turned their attention to him. I winced. If Dad and Sandra heard weird noises coming from my room, they would come in. How was I going to explain the presence of a dozen smelly men dressed in ratty clothes and wielding swords?
“Unhand the wench’s things,” Robin Hood said. “I want to go forth and discover what the world has become. Who is with me?” The men let out a shout of agreement, still clutching shirts, knickknacks, and scented candles.
“Shhh,” I called to them. “My dad and stepmother are down the hallway.”
“How many men at arms be at your castle?” Little John asked.
60/356
I vaguely remembered from my reading days that men at arms were soldiers.
“This is a small house,” I told him. “Only my family lives here.” Will Scarlet took hold of my doorknob and opened the door a few inches. I nearly threw myself against it. “You can’t go out there.
Someone will see you.”
Robin Hood gestured out the window to the neighbors’ homes.
“And the other buildings nearby, are they small houses as well?”
“Yes,” I said. “Mostly.”
Robin Hood and Little John exchanged a look and grinned. Robin Hood, unlike so many of his men, had straight, beautiful teeth. Still, his smile made me uneasy.
I stepped away from the door and held my hands out to Robin Hood, pleading. “Look, you need to stay put until I can get hold of my fairy godmother. She had a job interview to go to, which is probably why she’s not answering me, but that can’t take long. Then we’ll get this straightened out and she’ll send you back to your home. In the meantime, you need to be quiet.”
I had barely finished speaking when I heard Nick at the door. He knocked then said, “Dad says to turn off your iPod and go to sleep.” I didn’t have my iPod on. “Okay,” I called back.
I hoped he would go away, but he opened the door instead. “What are you listening to anyway? It sounds like—” He stared at the occupants of the room with wide-eyed surprise and then took in my long dress and hair. His voice dropped to an indignant grumble. “You’re having a costume party in your bedroom?
Aren’t you in enough trouble already?”
“It’s not what it looks like,” I said.
He rolled his eyes in disgust. “Whatever. It’s your life. Who am I to stop you from wrecking it?”
61/356
He shut the door harder than he needed to.
I turned back to Robin Hood. “That was my stepbrother, Nick.”
“He bore no weapons,” Robin Hood said.
“People around here don’t carry weapons. It’s illegal, and it’s not polite either. Which reminds me, could you ask the Merry Men to sheath their swords?”
“The who?” Robin Hood asked.
“Your Merry Men,” I repeated. “That’s what history calls them.” Robin Hood chuckled at his men. “Did you hear that? History knows us, and thinks we are merry.”
“We’ve been called a far sight worse,” Friar Tuck said. He was standing by my jewelry box again.
Another man snorted. “I’d be merrier if I had a spot to eat.”
“I can get you food,” I said, then wondered what to serve them. In the movies, the Merry Men always ate fire-roasted rabbits and stuff like that. I would find something. “It will take me a few minutes,” I told Robin Hood. “Can you control your men until I get back?”
“Of course,” he said, like it was a ridiculous question.
As I put my hand on the doorknob, Robin Hood took hold of my elbow. “One question before you go. What does history say of me?” With his blue eyes staring down at me, and his hand touching my elbow, I felt like a giddy fan again. “You’re a hero. You robbed from the rich to give to the poor.”
“Ahh.” He nodded, processing this. “History has been kind.”
“I’ve got a book about you. You can have it if you want.” I went to my shelf and took down The Adventures of Robin Hood. “My father read this to me when I was a little girl.” I put the novel in his hands and felt myself blush. “I’ve admired you for a long time.” One of the men laughed and in a low voice said, “As have many women.”
62/356
I hadn’t meant it like that, but there was no explaining that now.
Besides, Robin Hood had smiled when I said I admired him. He flipped open the book, first looking at the pictures, then the text.
“I’ll be back soon,” I said, then slipped out the door.
Down the hallway, Dad and Sandra’s door was shut. The TV
blared from their room. They had probably turned it up in an effort to drown out my “iPod.” Good. I hoped that meant they would stay put. I took hold of my skirt and lifted it so I could hurry down the hallway without tripping over it. If my parents saw me, they would wonder why I was wearing a long dress and my hair was in a bun.
But I didn’t have a choice about my wardrobe right now. It was better to keep the men busy with food until Chrissy came back.
I was microwaving chicken nuggets when I heard the crash. It was a familiar enough noise since I had already heard it twice that night—the sound of a window shattering. I left the kitchen and ran back to my room. When I opened the door, Little John pointed a sword at me and yelled, “Halt!”
I did, not because of the sword, but because of what the Merry Men were doing. They had not only broken my window; they’d laid my comforter across the remaining shards in the window frame and were proceeding to climb outside.