A Hoboken Hipster In Sherwood Forest Read Online Free PDF Page A

man I just bested in this fight actually be the legendary Robin Hood, for real? I mean, we're in the right time period. He's dressed all in green. And heck, how many guys besides Batman's bestie go by the name Robin?
    Should I ask him if he's who I think he is? Or will that totally freak him out? After all, he is an outlaw. Probably has to keep his true identity on the down-low. I'd want to as well if I were a regular on the medieval version of America's Most Wanted . Yes, best not to push him.
    I take a moment to study him closer. He's certainly as handsome as I imagined Robin Hood to be. Much better-looking than Kevin Costner, though that's not saying much. And what do you know, he actually speaks with a British accent (unlike Mr. Costner).
    "Look, Robin of Locksley,” I continue, emphasizing the Locksley part. "I need to find King Richard. You got any idea where he is?"
    Robin's eyes darken and the laughter fades from his face, replaced by a scowl. "Do you mock me, lad?" he asks.
    Huh? "Uh, no," I say carefully. I certainly hadn't been expecting that reaction. "I really need to talk to the guy. Can you direct me to his castle?"
    "To his castle, aye," Robin says with a sigh. "I could direct ye. ‘Tis not far off, in fact. But you will scarce have luck in finding His Majesty, the King of England, behind its walls."
    "What, is he on vacation or something?" That'd totally be my luck.
    "Nay. He is lost. Gone a year too long from the crusades in the east. He left to fight in the Holy War, taking with him England's finest men, and has ne'er been heard from again."
    Oh, that's just freaking great. Nimue sent me back in time to the wrong year? I mean, we all know that King Richard shows up eventually. Comes back and boots the sniveling—and thumb-sucking in the Disney version—Prince John from his throne. But how close am I now to that time? Does this mean I'm stuck here until the King shows up? That completely blows. I mean, I can't be hanging out in the Middle Ages for the next year. I have things to do. Anorexic models to photograph. A cheating husband to divorce. An apartment to get evicted from.
    Okay, maybe it wouldn't be so terrible to spend a few months away from my present-day hell. I hope Kat's cool with being stuck in the future a bit longer....
    In any case, what am I supposed to do now? Go to the castle and hang out there, wait for the King to come home? That seems potentially on the dull side. I mean, if I've really traveled back in time, I should go exploring, have adventures, right? Maybe take some photos. I wonder how much photos of the real-life Robin Hood would fetch on eBay? Oh shoot, I left my camera on the other side of the river. Have to remember to go get that.
    I turn my attention back to Robin. "If you seek an audience with Prince John," he is saying, "I will gladly direct you to the castle. But I cannot offer you escort to its gates. You see, I am an outlawed man and less than welcomed." He laughs, a bit bitterly. "Well, my head would be welcome, forsooth, but I cannot guarantee ' twould stay attached to my body come sunup."
    "I guess there's no reason to go to the castle if the King isn't there," I tell him, making up my mind. "How about I come hang with you in Sherwood Forest instead? Meet your merry men and all that jazz." After all, how many chances does one get to chill with a living legend? Like I said, if I'm stuck back in time, I'm going to take full advantage. I could even write a Robin Hood biography when I got back to the 21st century. Get a book deal. Retire.
    Robin's face darkens. "How do you know about my men?"
    Oh, good one Chrissie. He hasn't mentioned his men yet . "Uh, well, I just assumed, I guess. Though, I suppose we all know what assuming does. Makes an ass out of you and—"
    "Who are you?" the outlaw demands, rising to his feet. "Did the Sheriff send you to spy on us?"
    "What? No!" I cry, completely taken aback. "Of course not! I'm one of the good guys. And totally for the old