My Unfair Godmother (7 page)

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.

“What are you doing?” I walked over to them, hands in the air.

“Do you know how expensive windows are? You could have just opened it.”

Robin Hood sent me a half smile and bowed slightly. “Though we appreciate your hospitality, we must be on our way.” Friar Tuck heaved himself out of the window. I was so agitated I made little steps toward it, then toward Robin Hood, then back to the window. “You can’t leave. You have nowhere to go.” 63/356

Robin Hood remained unworried. “We shall live off the land. It is our way.”

“You’re in the middle of a neighborhood,” I protested. “There’s no land to live off of.” I motioned for the men outside to come in. Not only did they ignore me, but more climbed out. “You won’t find any deer,” I told them. “We don’t have wild animals roaming around unless you count stray cats.” The men kept going out the window without regarding me. As I watched them leave, frustration rose in my throat.

“Robin,” I said, “don’t go.”

He smiled and tucked one of my ringlets behind my ear. His voice took on a silky tone. “I regret I cannot stay and fulfill your wishes in that regard.”

His men chuckled, and a few made comments about my wishes.

I flushed in embarrassment.

“ ’Tis true your beau, Bo, has failed you,” Robin Hood said, stroking my cheek, “but I’m unready to stand up with any woman, even one as beautiful as yourself.”

“That wasn’t why I … I’m not …,” I sputtered. “Don’t you want to go back to Sherwood Forest?”

Robin Hood’s hand slid from my cheek to my shoulder. “You brought us to a new land—a fortuitous event, indeed. The sheriff’s men have death warrants on our heads, and they recently took to setting dogs on our trail. So, no, returning to Sherwood is not a pressing matter.” He took one of my hands in his, then lifted it to his lips and gave it a brief kiss. “And now I must bid you farewell.” After dropping my hand, he gestured to Little John. The big man left his place guarding my bedroom door and climbed out the window with more agility than I expected.

I blinked at Robin Hood, unbelieving. “But what about the poor villagers who depend on you?”

64/356

He laughed, which surprised me, then held up
The Adventures of
Robin Hood
for me to see. “You are as amusing as your history.” With the book still in his hand, he swung himself out the window and onto the rocks that bordered our lawn. The first few Merry Men were already running down the street.

I watched them disappear and sighed. I supposed they would come back when they realized what the world had become. They weren’t going to be able to forage for food. Once you left town, the only things around were cacti and a bunch of scrub brushes that were waiting to dry up and turn into tumbleweeds. I hoped the Merry Men’s survival skills would help them remember which house I lived in. That way, when they had second thoughts about living off the land, they would be able to find their way back.

I took some clothes into the bathroom and changed. Then I picked up the things the Merry Men had thrown around. Thankfully, most of the broken glass was on the outside of the window, so I didn’t have to clean up much of that.

I couldn’t even mutter angrily about them trashing my stuff. Not after I had just been to the police station for trashing city hall. Mr.

Handsome Undercover Policeman would probably find it fitting that I was finishing up the night on my hands, wiping up spit from my carpet.

When I finished, I sat on my bed calling Chrissy. No one showed up except for a few bugs that flew through the broken window. I shut my eyes to rest them, and the next thing I knew, it was Saturday morning.

• • •

the fact that Sandra had done it meant he was still mad at me. I was probably in for something horrendous like scraping pigeon poop off the roof.

I pulled the sheet over my head.

Sandra walked over and sat on my bed. “Come on, look on the bright side: today has to be better than yesterday.” Sandra was one of those optimistic people who not only saw the glass as half full, but figured it was half full of her favorite drink.

I tossed the sheet off and sat up—not from optimism, but because I suddenly remembered the rest of last night. My fairy godmother.

Robin Hood. I didn’t want Sandra to see my astonishment, so I tried to keep my expression calm.

She wasn’t looking at me though. Her gaze zeroed in on the gaping hole in my window and she let out a shrill gasp of alarm. “What happened?”

I didn’t think she’d believe me if I told her a bunch of Merry Men broke it. In fact, I wasn’t sure I believed it myself. Could that stuff have really happened? Fairies and leprechauns didn’t pop into people’s bedrooms. Robin Hood and the Merry Men weren’t real.

But nothing was left of my window except for jagged shards. That part was real enough.

I chose my words carefully. My lies might have magical consequences. “I was in the kitchen, and I heard a crash. When I got back to my room, the window was broken.”

“Why didn’t you tell us?”

“It was late.”

She walked to the window, shaking her head. “You didn’t see who did it?”

“No.” Which was true. I didn’t know which of the Merry Men had shattered it.

66/356

“It must have been Bo.” Sandra’s jaw clamped tight. “Well, he can pay for this window along with the ones he broke at city hall. I’ll call his parents and tell them so.”

“Don’t,” I said. “I’ll pay for it.” I hardly had any money to my name. I would have to find a job. I supposed that didn’t matter, since I wasn’t going to have a social life now.

She put her hands on her hips, watching my curtain flutter in and out of the frame. “I’ll ask your father to put a board across it for now. I doubt anybody will be able to come out to fix it until Monday anyway.” Sandra left, muttering about Bo, and I stood in my room staring at the window. “Chrissy?” I called.

No one came. Had she been a dream—the product of an over-stressed, overemotional brain? I walked to the closet tentatively. Last night I had hung up the long green dress. If it was still there, it would be proof I hadn’t imagined everything.

I opened the closet, but the hanger I’d put the dress on was bare. I flipped through every shirt, dress, and skirt hanging there. No green dress. I threw up my hands. “It’s official. I’ve lost my mind.” That’s how the day started. It didn’t get any better.

My chore list included hauling everything out of the garage, sweeping it out, and hauling everything back. Then I had to clean the bathrooms, mop the floor, and do laundry. Every once in a while, I whispered, “Chrissy?”

No twinkling lights erupted anywhere. I wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or disappointed. The more the day wore on, the easier it was to convince myself none of the magical things had happened. I had dreamed it all.

Dad and Nick spent the day doing landscaping and painting the trim on the house, fixing it up for when we had to put it on the market.

67/356

Nick had the radio on and sang along, but Dad worked with a stern expression, his eyes hard as stone.

Fine, I told myself. Let him think about what a disappointment I’ve turned out to be. He had chalked up a lot of points in the disappointment category himself.

It wasn’t until eight o’ clock that night when I was putting away my clean clothes that I saw the pathetic-o-meter sitting on my dresser.

I had completely forgotten about it, and I dropped the clothes on the floor and stared at the disk. The blue area had grown, and a new sentence read:
Thinks criminals are cool. 82 percent pathetic.

I did not think criminals were cool, but that was beside the point.

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.”