Read A Hoboken Hipster In Sherwood Forest for Free Online Page B

winter's night.
    Much waves good-bye as Robin and I continue our journey. "I will send an arrow to announce yer arrival to the men," he says in an eager-to-please-the-boss voice. Then he tilts his bow skyward and affixes an arrow with some sort of circular barrel attached to its tip. I stop to watch, intrigued. He sends the arrow skyward and it makes a whistling noise that echoes through the forest. So that's what people did before iPhones.
    Robin nods to Much, then pulls a long white rag from his sack and turns to me. "I am afraid I must blindfold you for the remainder of the journey," he says apologetically. "We cannot have strangers knowing the way to our hideout."
    "You think you're going to put that over my eyes?" I say, staring at the nasty, stained piece of cloth. Ewh. I take back all my "isn't he nice to give me shoes" thoughts.
    Robin laughs. "‘Twill not kill you."
    Maybe not, but I can only imagine the potential zit factor. I mean, who wore this before me? So help me if I get a sty. But I sigh and give in. After all, I don't have a lot of alternatives at this point.
    Robin moves behind me and places the rag around my head, tying it in the back. I can feel his breath on the back of my neck as he concentrates on the knot. Instant goose bumps.
    Why the heck am I so damned attracted to this guy? Is it simply the bad-boy factor? He's an infamous outlaw, after all. Or maybe it's my practically single status. I can't exactly remember the last time Danny and I made love. He'd come home saying he was too tired and I, the good wife, had bought it and gone without. I hadn't realized the fatigue came from banging Waitress Wanda, or I'd have gone out and found a way to tire out myself.
    With my vision now completely obscured by the nasty and probably unsanitary rag, Robin takes hold of my elbow and leads me down the path. It reminds me of those old team-building games they used to make you play at work. Where you had to trust the other person. Being blindly led by a practical stranger who every once in a while whispers for me to step up, step down, veer left or right. It feels rather intimate, actually.
    After about a half hour it's no longer intimate or sexy or fun. In fact, it sucks. His camp or lair or whatever he calls it is evidently in the East Bumfuck zone of Sherwood Forest. Either that or he's taking me the long way round to make sure I really have no clue where the place is.
    "Are we there yet?" I ask.
    "Almost."
    I'm relieved at that until I realize, five minutes later, we're still walking. What's his definition of almost, anyhow? Almost, a few more paces? Or almost, just a mile or two more down the path?
    "Are we there yet?" I can't help but ask again. I know, I know.
    I can hear his exasperated sigh. "Almost."
    But still we walk. And walk. And walk. You know, when I said I wanted to swing by and check out his camp, I had no idea it'd be located in another time zone.
    "Are we there ye—?"
    He huffs, stops walking, and whips off my blindfold. I blink a few times as my eyes adjust to my surroundings. "Are we here?” I ask, looking around. If we are, it's not much of a camp. In fact, it doesn't look like any camp at all. Just a bunch of trees.
    "I..." Robin turns around, shielding his eyes as he looks to his left and then right. "I think I might have taken a wrong turn somewhere."
    "What?" I cry. "You mean we're lost?"
    "Nay!" he retorts. "We are not lost."
    Oh, no. Of course we're not lost. No man on the planet, medieval or modem, would ever admit he doesn't have the slightest clue where we are.
    "Look, there's a hut over there." I point to a building in the distance. "Why don't we ask them where we are?"
    "Nay, I will not."
    I don't know why I even bothered suggesting it. Of course he's going to refuse to ask for directions.
    "Oh, quit being such a baby," I chide, making strides to the small dwelling. "We'll just ask them approximately where we arc. Get your bearings. Then you can play woodsman again."
    He doesn't