My Unfair Godmother

by Janette Rallison

  Dad had bought a sheet of plywood and leaned it against my window. It moved easily enough, and I slipped outside into the warm September night. I went around to the side door of the garage. I couldn’t take one of the cars. I had grown up in New York with its subway systems, so I didn’t know how to drive very well. This left a bike as my only means of transportation. Bike riding isn’t the fastest way to track people, and it was probably a hopeless venture from the start, but I had to at least try to find Robin Hood and his men. I had brought them here, and if I didn’t explain things to them, they would keep robbing people, and someone would get hurt.

  I set out through the neighborhood, peering at people’s lawns as I rode by. Would Robin Hood try to find a place like Sherwood Forest? We didn’t have any forests around, but a lot of trees grew in yards. Maybe the men had climbed some and were hiding there. I looked up at every tree I passed but I didn’t see them. Maybe they had found a deserted building. I headed toward the center of town, riding through street after street, searching for any sort of clue.

  Everything seemed normal.

  Navigating around downtown was hard. Cars zipped past me impatiently, driving by so closely that I kept jerking away from them. After a while, I headed into another neighborhood. There was nothing unusual there either, except for me, riding aimlessly around in the dark. I was getting tired. I stopped my bike to rest and took the pathetic-o-meter out of my purse. “Look,” I told it, “I need to find Robin Hood before he runs somebody through with a sword or the police shoot him. Can you help me?”

  As I watched, the lettering changed on the dial. I held my breath, thrilled for the magical help, until I read the new sentence: Talks to inanimate objects.

  I was now 83 percent pathetic.

  “Great,” I said. “Just great.” I shoved the pathetic-o-meter back into my purse. “See if I ever speak to you again.”

  I didn’t check to see if yelling at inanimate objects had made the pathetic-o-meter go up. I might as well head home. I didn’t have the stamina to keep pedaling for much longer.

  I rode back to town sullenly, mumbling Chrissy’s name every once in a while. I wasn’t sure how her job interview as a muse had gone, but she certainly wasn’t inspiring anything but stomach ulcers for me.

  As I passed a Walgreens I saw them. I was so used to looking up in the trees that I scanned the roof without thinking about it. One of the Merry Men lay up there, bow drawn back, ready to shoot anyone who threatened him. My gaze dropped to the parking lot. There, crouched among the parked cars and moving in, was Robin Hood and the rest of his men. He should have looked ridiculous—a guy in a tunic squatting behind a parked car—but somehow with his muscular frame and handsome features, the tunic thing worked.

  I rode my bike slowly up to them. “Robin!” I whispered.

  He turned and saw me. “Not now, wench, we’re about to liberate some wealth from the gentry.”

  I climbed off of my bike and wheeled it over to him. “My name is Tansy, and you can’t hold up this store.”

  He raised an unimpressed eyebrow in my direction. “I read your Robin Hood book, but I refuse to believe it.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m having my doubts about it too.”

  “It says I die because a nun poisons me. A nun.”

  I had forgotten about that, but he glared at me as though I had written it into the book myself. “So avoid nuns from now on. They’re easy enough to spot—long black dresses and wimples. Very few of them sneak up on people.”

  He went back to staking out the parking lot. “Women,” he said with disgust. I wasn’t sure whether he was referring to me or nuns.

  I lowered my voice. “We need to talk. You see, you don’t need to rob anyone here. We have agencies that take care of the poor, and if you keep holding places up, someone will get hurt.”

  He didn’t look at me. He waved at some of the men, and they ran forward, still crouching and darting between cars. “Never worry, no harm shall come to me. I am more than a match for the menfolk here. My arms will remain unbound and will hold you in their embrace soon enough, just as you wished.”

  Several of the men chuckled knowingly at that.

  My cheeks burned from embarrassment, but I kept my voice even. “I’m not worried about you—I don’t want you to injure anybody else. You’re attacking people who don’t carry weapons.”

  “Such foolishness is astounding,” he said. “But a fool and his money are soon parted. Our swords only speed the process.”

  The first two of Robin Hood’s men had reached the Walgreens’ front entrance. They pressed themselves against either side of the door, looking inside.

  “Robin, this isn’t stealing from the rich and giving to the poor; this is just stealing.”

  Robin Hood glanced at the building behind us, a Laundromat. On the top of it, a Merry Man lay on his stomach, a bow in his hands. “Ah, but you’re wrong. Everyone here is rich, and my men and I are poor. It’s fitting we should relieve your village folk of some of their goods.” He motioned to the men nearest him, and then he and the men left their hiding places and sprinted toward the store doors.

  They timed their surge wrong, piling up at the entrance, and had to wait for the automatic door to open all the way before they rushed inside.

  I leaned my bike against a car and strode after them. When I walked into the store, Robin Hood already had his sword drawn and held it only inches away from a startled store clerk. He was a thin teenage boy who’d gone completely pale. The Merry Men walked along the aisles, dumping things into their sacks. A small group of shoppers were lined up, hands in the air, by the photo counter.

  Maybe some stories have more sway than fact. Maybe they carve themselves into our minds and slant the way we see things. Because even then, I saw Robin Hood as a hero, as someone who cared about right and wrong. I marched over and tried one more time to make him understand. “You’ve got to stop. This is wrong.”

  Robin Hood didn’t take his eyes off the clerk. The muscles in his arm flexed. “Hold your tongue, wench. I asked not for your blessing.” He moved his sword tip close to the clerk. “Your jewelry, my good man, hand it over forthwith.”

  The teenage boy held his hands up higher. “I don’t have any jewelry,” he croaked.

  I took a step closer to Robin Hood, frustration banging around inside of me. “You were supposed to be the good guy, the defender of the common people. But you’re not—you’re terrorizing innocent shoppers.”

  “Your beauty notwithstanding,” Robin Hood said, glancing at me for a moment before he turned his attention back to the clerk, “you had best hold your tongue before I’m tempted to hold it on the blade of my sword.”

  I let out an incredulous gasp. “You’re threatening me?”

  Friar Tuck snorted as he dumped a box of Snickers into his bag. “The lady is quick-witted as well as beautiful.”

  I opened my mouth to say more, but someone took hold of my arm and yanked me sideways. I turned, expecting to see one of the Merry Men. Instead Mr. Handsome Undercover Policeman had a hold on me. In his jeans and T-shirt, he had blended in with the rest of the shoppers who stood over at the photo counter, and I hadn’t seen him before. The police guy towed me over to the counter, keeping his gaze not on me but on Little John, who stood nearby. He held a sword loosely in our direction while he walked along an aisle, shoving Doritos into his bag.

  I hated that I noticed, at a moment like this, that the hot police guy was every bit as tall and good-looking as I’d remembered. He was probably six foot two. His wavy brown hair looked mussed, and his deep brown eyes were intent, serious.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked.

  “I’m being held up like everyone else, and I suggest you leave the crazy men alone.”

  That’s when the reality of the situation hit me. I was as powerless to stop Robin Hood as everyone else who was being held at sword-point. “This can’t be happening,” I said numbly.

  The police guy’s gaze slid o
ver me. “You’re brave; I’ll give you that. But right now it’s better to stay still. I know these guys’ MO. They’ll take a few things and go. There’s nothing here worth risking your life for.”

  Of course he knew their MO—modus operandi, or method of operation—the police had studied the surveillance tapes. They’d been searching for these men. I noticed an open cell phone lying on the disposable cameras behind us. I whispered, “You called the police, didn’t you?”

  “Everything will be okay,” he said.

  Two older ladies dressed in polyester outfits stood by my side. One of them whimpered, and the other pressed her lips together in an angry grimace. Next to them, a teenage girl shivered. She was blinking back tears.

  Everything would not be okay. I was already processing the outcome. Robin Hood and his men had never seen firearms. They wouldn’t care when the police pointed guns in their direction. Robin Hood wouldn’t listen when the police told them to drop their swords. And the police wouldn’t expect archers on the tops of buildings. Even if the police somehow did capture the entire group of Merry Men without bloodshed, what could Robin Hood tell them that would make sense? And what would happen when the Merry Men told detectives that I had brought them to Rock Canyon?

  The police were probably not going to be particularly understanding about that part.

  Robin Hood and Friar Tuck strolled up. Robin Hood smirked at us. “Now, if you good folk would be so gracious as to take off your jewelry and any coin you have on you. Put them in the good friar’s sack and we’ll be much obliged.”

  Friar Tuck held out a rough-hewn sack to the girl. From the look of it, they had brought the sacks with them from the Middle Ages. It figured. They must travel with them. After all, you never know when you’re going to meet someone you want to rob.

  The teenage girl pulled off two earrings shaped like ice cream cones. She dropped these and a pinkie ring into the sack, then pressed herself as far away from the men as she could get. Friar Tuck turned to the older ladies. The first trembled as she put her wallet into the sack. The second sneered. “You remind me of my ex-husband, except he didn’t smell quite as bad.”

  “I’m flattered, I’m sure,” Friar Tuck said, then pointed to their rings. “We require those lovelies as well.”

  As the first woman tugged off her rings, I turned to Robin Hood, pleading, “You shouldn’t take their wedding rings. They have sentimental value.”

  He laid his hand against his chest. “And I assure you they will have sentimental value to me as well.”

  I glared at him, but didn’t argue anymore.

  Next to me, the hot guy took off his watch and a class ring. I barely noticed it was Rock Canyon High’s color—bright blue—before he dropped it in the sack.

  I pulled off the one piece of jewelry I wore, an opal ring my mother had given me when I turned sixteen. It also had sentimental value, but it was pointless to bring that up.

  This was such my luck. I was being robbed by the guy I had wished here.

  Robin Hood held out his hand for my ring. I dropped it in his palm, but instead of putting it into the bag, he took hold of my hand and slipped it back onto my finger. “Your ring is not what I will steal from you.” Still holding onto my hand, he slowly pulled me into an embrace. I looked up to ask what he was doing, and as our eyes met, he bent down and kissed me.

  As soon as his lips touched mine, I put my hands on his chest to push him away. It was like pushing a wall. He was much stronger than me, and after a few moments, I quit struggling and let him kiss me. I figured once he made his point, he would stop.

  He didn’t.

  History had never mentioned that Robin Hood was an exceptional kisser, but it should have. It was clearly one of his more impressive talents. I might have enjoyed the kiss if he weren’t an outlaw and if I hadn’t been in the middle of a hold-up in Walgreens. Even as it was, when he lifted his head from mine, I felt breathless.

  Will Scarlet walked up to us. “Robin,” he said with exasperation.

  Robin Hood didn’t let me go. He stared into my eyes, his smirk back again. His fingers made a slow trail down my back. “I suppose yours was not such a bad wish after all.” He bent his head to kiss me again, but the break was enough to restore my sanity. This had to end.

  “The police—the sheriff’s men—they’re on their way,” I said.

  Robin Hood stiffened, then dropped his hands away from me. “Are they?” He didn’t ask how I knew, just stepped away and whistled to his men. “We best be off. The law is on our trail.”

  Most of the men flung their sacks over their shoulders and fled out of the door. With his sword still drawn, Will backed away from us. When he was far enough away, he turned and ran to the door as well. Robin Hood was the last one out. Before he left, he winked at me and said, “Until we meet again, fair Tansy.” Then he was gone.

  The woman beside me put a hand over her chest and let out a stream of words that was too jumbled to understand. The other woman leaned against the counter, taking deep breaths. The teenage girl pulled her cell phone from her pocket with shuddering hands and dialed someone. The hot police guy turned to me, unshaken. He put his hands on his hips and narrowed his eyes. “You warned that thug the police were coming.”

  I flushed. I couldn’t explain. “It was the best line I could think of to discourage him from a make-out session.”

  “Well, judging from your last boyfriend, I can see why that line would pop into your mind first. But to tell you the truth, you didn’t look like you minded the make-out session all that much.”

  “I didn’t have a choice about kissing him,” I said. “He had a sword.”

  “He knew your name,” the guy said. “Why is that?”

  I refused to let him ruffle me. “It’s a small town. Apparently everybody knows my name. Even random police detectives.”

  I turned toward the door. He reached out and grabbed my arm. His grip was firm, but not tight. “You need to stay to make a statement for the police. And we all need to file reports about what the robbers stole from us.”

  “I don’t,” I said. “He only stole a kiss from me, and I don’t want it returned.”

  The guy’s dark brown eyes turned piercing. “Tansy, you need to stay and talk to the police.”

  I pulled my arm away from him. “I think we’ve already established that I don’t like talking to the police.”

  “It will look worse if you leave,” he said.

  “No, it will look worse if my father has to come down to the police station two nights in a row to pick me up.”

  I walked out the door without looking back at him.

  • • •

  I don’t know why I thought Mr. Hot Police Officer would keep my name out of it. When I got home, a police car was parked in front of my house. I should have stayed at the Walgreens and saved myself the bike trip back. My thighs burned from all of the pedaling. I groaned and leaned my bike up against the side of the house. An officer sat in the car. He reported something into his car radio, then climbed out and followed me up the walkway.

  When I got inside, my parents and another officer were standing in the living room talking. My father’s face was taut with anger, his hands clenched into fists. He spoke to me, shooting each word out sharp and whole. “You were grounded. You were supposed to stay in your room.”

  I couldn’t very well tell him I had been out trying to stop Robin Hood from plundering the city. I also couldn’t tell him, with the police officers staring at me, that my fairy godmother had zapped them here on my command. “Sorry,” I said.

  He waited for me to say more. I didn’t. It was pathetically lacking as an apology, but I didn’t know how to spruce it up without ending up in a padded cell.

  The younger of the two police officers stepped forward. His red hair had been cropped short in what was nearly a crew cut. He held up a clipboard to take notes and regarded me suspiciously. “You were at the Walgreens that was held up?”

  I nodded
.

  “Do you have any idea where the criminals are now?”

  “No.”

  “Have you ever seen them before?”

  I nearly told them no, then remembered Chrissy’s warning that I couldn’t lie or lights would go off around me announcing the fact. It would be hard to explain that sort of thing right now. “I saw them on the news earlier today,” I said. It was, after all, the truth.

  “Why did the men know your name?”

  “I ran into them in the parking lot before they went inside, and I told them my name.” Also the truth.

  The police officer raised an unbelieving eyebrow at me. “You saw a bunch of men you knew were dangerous criminals, and you went up to them in a parking lot and told them your name?”

  “I was trying to convince them not to rob the Walgreens,” I said.

  “Uh-huh.” The police officer pursed his lips, and I could tell this wasn’t going well. “We’ll need you to come down to the station so we can get a formal statement.”

  Chrissy was right. Telling the truth was way overrated.

  I shook my head. “I’m not going with you.”

  Sandra said, “Tansy, I think—”

  I wouldn’t let her finish. I’d had enough of the police. “I’m not saying anything else. It isn’t illegal to talk to people in a parking lot, so they can’t arrest me for that. I didn’t do anything wrong tonight.”

  The older officer crossed his arms. “Maybe you folks need to have a talk with your daughter about cooperation and then get back to us.” He sent me a slow, intimidating stare. “Armed robbery is a felony. This isn’t a game, young lady.”