"Robin, get out of my bushes."
Silence.
"I know you're there."
It was ten o'clock at night, and I was standing in my front yard facing the bushes outside my bedroom window, doing something that probably looked like I was conversing with them. I knew Robin was hidden there. Why, I didn't know. But the feather sticking randomly out of the needles gave me some sort of hint that he was hiding in there.
After I came home from hot chocolate at Andrew's house (palace) the night before, I felt like I had been seeing Robin Hood everywhere. In the birdhouses, the rickety fences, the rose bushes, the windows. I had thought my mind was playing a cruel joke on me. But the feather sticking out of the bushes confirmed my sightings.
I had a new stalker.
"Get out of my bushes!" I demanded again, giving a quick thrust of my steel-toed shoe. I heard a sorry yelp and Robin leapt out onto my yard, the bright moonlight illuminating the needles scattered in his hair, his hat gone askew, the tears in his tights and the little scratches on his arms that had probably come from a rosebush.
The jerk, making me thing I was delusional so he could…
Ugh.
"What are you doing?" I yelled, not concerned whether I woke the neighbors or not. He was still on the ground, holding his knee (okay, so I had missed the preferred spot). Either my steel-toed shiny black oxfords were doing they're job, or he was just being a drama queen. Or both.
Or maybe I didn't miss and he was just weird.
Either way, he still wouldn't get up off my lawn. I just stood there, hands on my hips, tapping my foot as I waited for him to answer.
It took a few minutes. I was about ready to kick him again when he finally made his way to his feet, panting and eyes watering, putting all his weight on the "good" knee. He smiled flakily through the tears.
"Hi."
"What are you doing?" I repeated.
"I…uh…dropped something." Even in the dim light, I could see the red flooding into his face. No one in this park, unfortunately including me, was a very good liar.
I stuffed my hand into my pockets, glancing over at my blank bedroom window. I finally decided to humor him.
"Really?" I smiled. It hurt my face. "What did you drop?"
His head dropped to the ground, and I heard him mutter something inaudible.
"Excuse me?"
"I said," he said clearly, bringing his head back up to face me. "That you're too good for Charming and I will follow you forever!"
Before I could do anything intelligent, including kicking him very hard in the groin, he had pranced off as fast as his green-stocking legs could carry him.
I went back into the trailer and closed the blinds on my bedroom window, but not before glancing outside to see if Robin had come back. But there was no feather sticking out of the bushes this time.
If he followed me forever…well…I had to do something about that.
We were leaving in three days, but I didn't have enough clothes to pack and still be able to walk around the park and trailer in a legal matter. So the suitcase remained on my floor, open but empty, and my closet remained burdened under my light wardrobe.
A one-week trip to Disneyland with Andrew…it was hard to imagine anything better. Sheep was going to stay with Mary (who had obliged a little reluctantly), and Mirror would watch the house while I was gone. Officer Gundy had already dropped off the papers, and I informed him that we were going on vacation for a bit and he wished us a pleasant trip. It had all gone without a hitch…
Except for Robin.
I couldn't get him to go away.
Whenever I went out in the yard, he was watching me from the street, as still as the Peter Pan statue in Hyde Park, but not nearly as cute. I swear he didn't even blink.
I found him in the bushes outside my bedroom two more times, and he hassled me when I went out to get the mail. I managed to tell him off firmly each time (I couldn't quite resort to severe physical contact yet), but this was getting to be too much.
I found a new salmon pink flyer in my mailbox the day before we were to leave. Instead of a barbeque, fancy letters spelled out "Penelope's Defense League, for those who just have too many suitors". I gave it a once over and stuffed it into my pocket. That might be something I could look into when I got back from the trip.
Though I was kind of afraid how much I would hurt Robin with the proper practice.
"Please stop squirming," Andrew sighed, his hand latching mercilessly on to mine. After he had been frisked heartily by a cheerful security guard, I couldn't blame him for being a slight bit annoyed.
I had my legs crossed, but then uncrossed them, trying to look for a comfortable position on the seat, but changed places. My heart was beating fast and my face was hot, and the concrete speeding past us as we taxied down the runway was starting to make me sick.
"I can't help it," I breathed. "I'm kind of…afraid of flying."
"We're in first class," he said, leaning back into his plush seat. "Just relax, you're well taken care of." He reached over and pulled the window shade down, and my nausea disappeared, only for my heart to leap into my throat at once as the plane lifted off the ground.
I spent a few painful minutes trying to get my ears to pop once we reached cruising altitude. My ears hurt so badly I felt like I was going to cry. So far, this flight had been anything but enjoyable.
"It's only a three hour flight," Andrew whispered, trying to sooth my nerves with a rub of his thumb over my palm. Despite his warm presence and the absence of the sight of the clouds below us, I was still having a hard time gaining composure. Trying to repress the jerkiness in my movements, I tried to get the armrest up into the seat, but it wouldn't budge.
"Come on," I muttered, prying at it with whitening fingers. "Stupid thing! Go up!"
Andrew stared at me, obviously amused. I ignored him as I continued to pry at the annoying plastic and metal contraption, suppressing the urge to break it off in my hands and whack someone with it.
"Let me help," he commanded, reaching over.
"No…no," I said through clenched teeth. "I can do it myself."
He ignored my protest and pressed his hand against a small gray button on the side. The armrest immediately popped up and wedged itself in between our seats.
I stared at his idle hand, muttering a simple "Oh".
He laughed and put his arm around my shoulder, and I leaned into his chest. He was so strong, so warm, his embrace smoothed my frazzled nerves, his strength relaxing the clench of my throat. My eyelids floated down, and I breathed in the scent of cologne and handsome man. If they could bottle that feeling of warmth and security, of that smell, it would sell like wild.
"Do you feel any better?" he asked. I could feel his deep voice rumbling in his chest against my face, his left hand gently caressing my waist and coming to rest on my hip. If his goal of this trip was to seduce me, he was sure doing a good job so far.
But before my drifting thoughts could register alarm in my mind, I had fallen asleep. I was dreaming about talking to Mirror in a hotel bathroom in perfect French (even though I didn't know French), while fastening a framed picture of Sheep around my neck.
"Gwen?" Mirror said, a little before I realized it was actually Andrew and not that stupid piece of glass. I felt like I was rocking on a boat, the waves tossing me about as if I was in a storm. But Andrew was only shaking me gently, trying to rouse me from my sleep. I groaned, lifting my hand up to massage the feeling back into my face.
"We just landed," Andrew added, his voice sounding almost as groggy as I thought mine might sound if I had actually said anything. No doubt that he had fallen asleep, too.
"Mmm…" I leaned back into my seat, tipping my head against the headrest. I yawned deeply, my skin feeling tight and dry from the recycled oxygen in the plane cabin.
"We're here," he confirmed.
"We're at…" my mind completely blanked out, and he looked at me with a puzzled and tired expression. Where was I?
"In California."
I paused, stifling a yawn. "O…oh."
I had a hard time staying awake on the taxi ride from the airport to the Hilton, passing the Disneyland sign on the way. I was so tired I could barely care whether it was "The Happiest Place on Earth" or not.
Actually, I still couldn't really see the point. I was being stalked by Robin Hood and had a pet sheep, for crying out loud.
"Ooh," I said, glazing over the brochure. "High speed internet."
My patience was pretty much gone as we approached the front counter. A cheery woman, whose dimples, I swear, were stapled in place, greeted us with a loud "HOLA!", like we were deaf or something. Andrew took a deep breath and shot me a reproachful look before saying,
"We have reservations…" He pushed his credit card across the desk and the woman looked at it, delighted. "For Andrew Charming and Gwen…"
"Oh! Oh! Oh!" I thought she was going to have a heart attack. She stared at the computer screen, pointing at what were probably our names with a fingernail manicured in a cherry red color. "Yes, yes, Andrew and Gwen Charming…"
"What?" Andrew interrupted. "No…" But the woman didn't listen.
"Ohh…this must be your honeymoon, eh?" She winked at us, and I was trying hard to fight off asking Andrew if he would punch her. "Don't want any disturbances, I'm guessing."
Ahhh!
"No…"
She winked again. "There's no fooling me. I'm going to give you an automatic upgrade to the Honeymoon Suite, at no charge.
"What?" From the look on Andrew's face, I believed I wouldn't even have to ask him to strike a girl. "No…"
"On us, sir." She pushed the key card across the table and smiled cheerily at us. I just stared at her, wondering how her co-workers could possibly survive working here on a daily basis.
"But…" I started to say, but Andrew took my arm and stared leading me to the elevator, where the bellhop was ready with our luggage.
"There's no use fighting it," he sighed. "Some people are just chronically annoying. I'll sleep on the couch or something…"
The bellhop accompanied us up to the suite and opened it for us, ushering us into a spacious living room with two sofas, a large screen television, and a kitchenette off to the side. The boy smiled as Andrew handed him a ten-dollar bill.
"Thank you sir," he said, taking a door sign into his hand. Across the front was displayed, in obvious bright red letters "We're on our Honeymoon: Do not disturb". He winked at us, incredibly similar to that annoying woman downstairs. He then left, taking the sign with him. I heard the telltale swishing of plastic against the wood as the cart wheels spun down the hall.
Andrew and I stared at each other, faces turning identical shades of red.
Hmm…this was going to be interesting.
Sorry this was such crap. I had to force it out. You can still tell me what you think if you want to, though. So I guess...please review.