I hadn’t dreamed the pathetic-o-meter into existence. It was real. And a fairy had given it to me.
Granted, the dress had disappeared, but then, Cinderella’s dress had disappeared at midnight. So maybe fairy fashions just did that.
Still only half believing in my sanity, I picked up the pathetic-ometer, walked to Nick’s bedroom, and knocked. He opened the door.
He wore a T-shirt that had pi written on it down to a thousand digits, but thanks to today’s chores, a lot of them were now paint splotches.
I held the disk out to him. “You can see this, right?” He squinted at my hand. “You think criminals are cool? Well, then it’s not surprising that you’re eighty-two percent pathetic.”
“Did you see me wearing a long green dress last night? And there were a bunch of medieval men in my room?”
“Yeah, where did you find those guys anyway? They made Bo look downright normal.”
I stepped into Nick’s room, shut the door, and leaned against it. I wasn’t sure whether to be happy or horrified about what had happened. “I really have a fairy godmother.” 68/356
Nick gazed at me, unimpressed with this pronouncement. “If you’re not careful you’ll really have a parole officer too.” He waved a hand in my direction. “Are you purposely seeking out every criminal you can find? Was there some sort of membership drive at the police station?”
Robin Hood and the Merry Men were real. And that meant they were out wandering around Rock Canyon somewhere. “This is going to be a problem.” I put my hand against my chest, trying to stop my panic from spreading. “I accidentally wished Robin Hood and his Merry Men here. I need to find them.”
“Yeah,” he said, “you and every police officer in town.”
Chapter 5
You and every police officer in town?
That was not a good sentence to hear Nick say. I clutched the pathetic-o-meter so hard its edges cut into my palm. “Why would the police be looking for them?”
Nick crossed his arms, which were paint splattered too. “Haven’t you listened to the news today?”
I had only listened to my iPod. I shook my head. “What happened?”
Nick walked over to his computer. “I’m sure it’s on the Internet by now.” He clicked a few links and then a newscaster popped up on the screen. She had a cheerful expression even though she spent most of her time doling out information about disasters.
“The usually uneventful town of Rock Canyon is experiencing a bizarre crime wave today. A gang wearing medieval garb carjacked a pickup truck, then robbed a Pizza Hut and two gas stations at sword-point.” The screen switched to a grainy surveillance tape that showed Robin Hood flanked by most of his men. He walked up to the checkout counter and drew his sword while his men went along the aisles emptying things into their sacks. They grabbed whatever was on the shelves—candy bars, chips, and lots of AA batteries. I had no idea what they were going to do with those. It was really too bad they didn’t hit a deodorant or soap aisle.
The surveillance tape ended and the screen went to a reporter, who stood next to the store clerk. He was a scruffy, overweight college-aged guy with spiky hair and a goatee.
“Can you describe the attack?” the reporter asked.
70/356
The clerk leaned close to the microphone. “It was freaky. Sort of like a bunch of Renaissance festival actors turned bad. First the head dude asked for our gold and silver. When I told him we didn’t stock that, he said to hand over my jewelry.” The clerk shrugged. “I don’t wear any jewelry except my nose ring, and I never thought anybody would want to steal that, but I gave it to him. Then the dude asked for money. I opened the cash register drawer and tried to give them the twenties, but they threw those aside and demanded the coins.” The clerk scratched behind his ear. “They made off with about four dollars in change.”
That didn’t make sense until I remembered that paper money didn’t exist in the Middle Ages.
On the screen, the newscaster smiled sympathetically. “Unfortunately the robbers caused more than four dollars’ worth of damage to the store, didn’t they?”
The clerk nodded. “Yeah—while they were swiping things off the shelves, one of them tried to yank the hot dog warmer off the counter.
When that didn’t work, he hit the glass with the back of his sword and busted in the side.” The clerk shrugged again. “Not what I would call smart thieves.”
“They’re certainly a danger to our community though,” the reporter said brightly. “Anyone with information about these crimes is urged to call the anonymous tip hotline.”
I sat down with a thunk on Nick’s bed. A tight ball of dread bounced around inside me. “This is awful.”
“I didn’t call the hotline,” Nick said, turning so he faced me. “At least not yet. It might push your dad over the edge if he knew you were friends with those guys too.”
I stared at the computer. It didn’t make sense. “They were only supposed to rob from the rich.”
71/356
Nick’s eyes narrowed on me. “I get the whole teenage rebellion stuff to a point. You’re mad that your dad left your family. I felt the same way when my parents split.” He held up one hand to emphasize his point. “But instead of dealing with it, you want to drive everyone crazy.”
I pressed my arms over my stomach as if this could keep it from hurting. “The books, the movies—they all said Robin Hood was a good guy.”
Nick looked up at the ceiling, contemplating. “What happened the first time you came out for a visit? Oh yeah, that’s when you pretended to be anorexic and wouldn’t eat anything.” The accusation momentarily snapped my mind off of Robin Hood. “I wasn’t pretending to be anorexic. Your mom was going through a tofu and bean recipe craze.”
“And the second time you came, you had that tattoo of snakes coiling down your arm.”
“It was just henna,” I said. “It washed off.” Nick leaned against his dresser. “Yeah, but you didn’t tell your dad that. You stepped off the plane and said, ‘How do you like my new tattoo? My boyfriend and I got matching ones.’ ”
“If my dad had called and talked to me at all beforehand, he would have known I was joking. I didn’t have a boyfriend at the time.” Nick drummed his fingers against the top of his dresser. “And since it wasn’t enough to have a fake idiot boyfriend, the first thing you did when you moved here was date Bo, the genuine article.” That was the thing about Nick. He thought my dad was great, so he was bound to take his side on everything.
“You’re a smart girl.” Nick waved his hand at me like it was an accusation. “You get As in math and physics, but what is your grade in English?”
72/356
I didn’t answer. He knew as well as I did that I had pulled nothing but Ds in English since my dad left us. It went along with my refusing to read books. I wasn’t about to excel in anything Dad loved.
“And now you claim to have conjured up Robin Hood from the past,” Nick went on. “I admit I don’t quite see the angle on this one.
How is this supposed to make your dad nuts?” Robin Hood. The reference brought my mind back to the problem at hand. I stood up. “I’ve got to get ahold of my fairy godmother.” She would be able to put a stop to this medieval crime spree. “Chrissy!” I looked for an eruption of sparkles, but nothing happened. “Chrysanthemum Everstar!” I called.
Still nothing.
“Clover?” I asked, remembering the leprechaun’s name. No one appeared in the room.
Nick pressed his lips together, still questioning me. “Great fairy godmother you’ve got.”
Clover had said she was only fair. I was beginning to see his point.
“Well,” I said, “this means I’ve got to find Robin Hood myself. He thinks we have poor villagers who need his help. He’s probably out somewhere wondering why no one is thrilled to be the recipient of nickels, pennies, and a used nose ring.” Nick went through the stack of clean laundry on his dresser, putting some socks into a drawer. “Your dad isn’t going to let you go anywhere for a long time.”