carpet.
“Hey,” I said. “You’re inside my bedroom. Don’t do that.” Robin Hood fixed me with a look. “And why, pray tell, did your fairy godmother bring us to your bedchamber?”
“Well, you see, I had a run-in with the police tonight.” When I didn’t see any recognition on Robin Hood’s face, I added, “The police work for the sheriff.”
57/356
“The sheriff!” another man snarled, and spat on my floor.
I could see it sitting there all gooey and gross. I turned to Robin Hood. “Would you please make your men stop spitting on my carpet?”
“What dost thou mean by a run-in?” Robin Hood asked.
I ignored the spit soaking into my carpet. I would clean it up later.
“Basically, it’s where they hauled me into their headquarters and threatened me.” And then, because I really wanted someone to understand what I’d been through, I told them about the whole ordeal with Bo and the officer who tricked me.
Robin Hood and his men listened intently, and when I’d finished, Robin Hood nodded. “I see.”
“Then while I was talking to my fairy godmother about it, I sort of wished that Robin Hood was around.”
“To give the sheriff bigger game to pursue?”
“No,” I said, blinking. “I wouldn’t have wished you into the twenty-first century for that.”
Little John’s jaw dropped open. “ The twenty-first century ?” I shrugged apologetically. “It’s where I live.” The men turned their attention from me to my bedroom, examining it more closely. One used his sword to push the comforter off my bed, checking to see if it was hiding anything. Several others picked knickknacks off my dresser. They flipped through books, poked at my iPod, opened my drawers. Friar Tuck lifted a necklace out of my jewelry box.
“If you don’t mind,” I said, shutting my underwear drawer and standing in front of it, “this is my personal stuff. I don’t want anyone touching it.”
Little John pushed back my curtains and eyed the houses on the street with interest. “Robin, cast your eyes at those buildings. And be-hold the torches that light the road. They stand as tall as trees!” 58/356
Robin Hood strode over to the window while I tried to keep the Merry Men from tossing things they found uninteresting onto the floor. I was able to rescue my cell phone. My box full of nail polish wasn’t as lucky.
A man the others referred to as Will—I assumed Will Scarlet—took a book from my shelf, opened it, then held it upside down and shook it. His dark hair hung in greasy strands around his shoulders and his beard ended in a sharp point. “What odd, useless things you have in the future.”
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
“Hey,” I said. “You’re inside my bedroom. Don’t do that.” Robin Hood fixed me with a look. “And why, pray tell, did your fairy godmother bring us to your bedchamber?”
“Well, you see, I had a run-in with the police tonight.” When I didn’t see any recognition on Robin Hood’s face, I added, “The police work for the sheriff.”
57/356
“The sheriff!” another man snarled, and spat on my floor.
I could see it sitting there all gooey and gross. I turned to Robin Hood. “Would you please make your men stop spitting on my carpet?”
“What dost thou mean by a run-in?” Robin Hood asked.
I ignored the spit soaking into my carpet. I would clean it up later.
“Basically, it’s where they hauled me into their headquarters and threatened me.” And then, because I really wanted someone to understand what I’d been through, I told them about the whole ordeal with Bo and the officer who tricked me.
Robin Hood and his men listened intently, and when I’d finished, Robin Hood nodded. “I see.”
“Then while I was talking to my fairy godmother about it, I sort of wished that Robin Hood was around.”
“To give the sheriff bigger game to pursue?”
“No,” I said, blinking. “I wouldn’t have wished you into the twenty-first century for that.”
Little John’s jaw dropped open. “ The twenty-first century ?” I shrugged apologetically. “It’s where I live.” The men turned their attention from me to my bedroom, examining it more closely. One used his sword to push the comforter off my bed, checking to see if it was hiding anything. Several others picked knickknacks off my dresser. They flipped through books, poked at my iPod, opened my drawers. Friar Tuck lifted a necklace out of my jewelry box.
“If you don’t mind,” I said, shutting my underwear drawer and standing in front of it, “this is my personal stuff. I don’t want anyone touching it.”
Little John pushed back my curtains and eyed the houses on the street with interest. “Robin, cast your eyes at those buildings. And be-hold the torches that light the road. They stand as tall as trees!” 58/356
Robin Hood strode over to the window while I tried to keep the Merry Men from tossing things they found uninteresting onto the floor. I was able to rescue my cell phone. My box full of nail polish wasn’t as lucky.
A man the others referred to as Will—I assumed Will Scarlet—took a book from my shelf, opened it, then held it upside down and shook it. His dark hair hung in greasy strands around his shoulders and his beard ended in a sharp point. “What odd, useless things you have in the future.”
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
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