Ellie stood third in line, trying to ignore the yammering, thumb-sized man standing on her head.
“I don’t understand why you wait. You make life so boring. Think of the excitement of taking it by force. Besides, why should they go first—"
“Thank you, Tom,” Robin Hood interjected from Ellie’s left.
Both he and Tom Thumb looked bizarre in the café, yet no one spared them a glance. Ellie tried to pretend she couldn’t see them either as she moved forward in the queue, staring at the man in front of her. Encased in a hoodie and deodorant, slouched and plugged into headphones, he was almost an empty template.
Robin continued, “As much as my ears disagree with his voice, he makes a fine point. We can take what you deserve.”
She didn’t respond, although she imagined it with some ironic pleasure. Pushing the man in front of her aside and striding up to the counter, demanding the cashier prepare her cheese sandwich and hot chocolate immediately or be shot with an arrow. That, admittedly, did make her smile a little. She almost wanted to say yes, but the inevitable humiliation kept her silent. This world wasn’t hers.
Ywain, revered Knight of the Round Table, his lion, and Beowulf wandered up behind Robin. “Perhaps, friends,” Beowulf said, “for her to become wiser, we should allow her to overcome this as she wills.”
He held out his hand for Tom Thumb, and the esoteric group walked to the displayed pastries at the counter. Ellie’s eyes followed them as she strained her ears, trying to eavesdrop. Other people didn’t see them, so it felt wrong for her to interact with them, but they enthralled her.
She wondered whether she should check herself into a psychiatric hospital, walk up to the counter and say, “I’ve been seeing my favourite characters from English folklore, and they keep making fun of me. What pills do you have for that? I’m already on klonopin and iron tablets, but swallowing pills makes me gag. Do you think you could combine some of them? Put some iron in the anti-hallucinogenics?”
A couple were walking toward the counter, toward the group of characters. They were the only other movement in the shop. Ellie cringed at the incoming impact between them and Beowulf, who had his back turned, but one of them pointed at a painting—some landscape of twilight rolling hills—and they only brushed him instead. They turned to look at each other, and Ellie had an awful vision that Beowulf would go up to them, ask about the meaning of the painting or share some wisdom, and decide that they were more interesting than her. And, she realized, if other people were interacting with them, then what if they weren’t just figments of her—
“What can I get you?”
Startled, she looked back to the cashier. The man from before was now waiting off to the side.
“Oh, yeah, sorry. Um, cheese sandwich and a hot chocolate, please.” She handed over her prepared five pound note.
“It’ll just be a minute.” And then the cashier was on to the next person, repeating their script.
She walked off to the side, away from her strange crowd who, despite her worry, had not chased the couple, and pulled out her phone. When she was bombarded by two missed calls from her brother and too many messages, she promptly put it back in her pocket.
Ellie despaired at the thought of leaving the café, of returning to her internship, of responding to the people in her life. She dreaded the mundane. She did love them: her brother’s wry smiles, her small trio of friends. She looked forward to their Tuesday movie nights and Saturday lunches, but, well—she found her life was built on routine and expectation.
She was free from that here, waiting for her order. She could count the seconds and rock on her feet as the gaggle of characters argued, having lost interest in the café’s delicacies, over who had slain the most impressive monster. Beowulf and Ywain were the obvious contenders, but the other two, Tom Thumb now on Robin Hood’s shoulder, still tried to compete. She desperately wanted to be able to contribute, to recount stories of giants and lindworms. They were so lively in the dull room, where even the couple from earlier had settled into a table, but she couldn’t believe that they were actually real—that Robin Hood was actually indignantly gesticulating in a London café. So she only watched, rocking back and forth.
Except, then Ywain looked at her, his severe face crinkling into a half-smile, and he beckoned her to join them. She detested that that she wanted to live in a world of magic and beasts that couldn’t, surely, exist. She hesitated.
Beowulf followed Ywain’s gaze when his lion began to slink toward her, exclaiming, “Yes, an impartial judge! Come!”
The lion circled her, nudging her forward, and she stumbled on, because she did want to, despite it all. And maybe it was the sheer size of the lion, or the feel of his fur on her arm, but it felt like he was as real as the floor beneath her. So, if it did look like an invisible force was pushing her forward to everyone else, then maybe she could let herself look a little crazy, just this once.
“Now,” said Robin once she’d walked up, “I’ve gone up against the Sheriff of Nottingham, evading death at every step, and Tom Thumb’s brilliant plot killed an evil wolf—and look at how small he is! We deserve recognition for that.”
Ellie found herself smiling along. The banter was comfortable, like with her friends, but new, different.
“Perhaps, but neither of those involved slaying a beast. I killed Grendel and her mother, and the Knight of the Lion here has slain beasts aplenty. Explain, dear friend, to these aspiring warriors that they have not yet earned a knight’s title.”
And then heads turned and eyes were on Ellie. “Ah, well. Comparatively, your achievements do sound less impressive.” She wanted to crawl inside her stomach for a second, but no one looked at her strangely.
“I can’t believe you!” Tom Thumb shook his head. “How could you abandon me like that? Well, I ought to leave this boring world then, find a proper beast to slay.”
“Yes! Slaughter a beast that terrorises villages and hoards jewels,” Robin Hood said.
Tom Thumb had been following her for three months now, and suggested leaving almost every week, and it was on brand for Robin to agree, but ideas from those two rarely travelled far.
“I’ll accompany you,” Ywain said. “I have a debt of good deeds still in need of paying.”
“And I,” Beowulf said. “This city is fascinating, but it can scarcely provide for me.”
She’d stopped smiling. Ywain and Beowulf rarely joked.
“Hah!” Tom Thumb jumped from Robin Hood’s shoulder to his head. “Finally. It took us long enough to agree.”
“Perhaps, Ellie, you would like to join us?” Ywain asked.
“Are you—you’re being serious?” she faltered. “About leaving?”
She had thought that maybe they would just stay, and she would be on her deathbed, with Tom Thumb on her chest and a hundred other folkloric characters beside her.
“Indeed,” he replied. “Perhaps you wish for some adventure?”
“No,” she lied.
Because yes, she wanted it, but what would she do? Run off into the wilderness and live in the trees? Even if she thought that they were real, she had an established, normal, life.
“I don’t believe that.” Tom Thumb crossed his arms. He had been with her longest. “Ordering breakfast is the most exciting part of your day. So honestly now, will you come with us?”
She shouldn’t. She had a soft bed, clean clothes and good food. Everything was good. It would be insane to leave it.
Then the cashier called her name, and she saw herself here for the rest of her life, waiting for a sandwich every morning while surrounded by vacant consumers. She felt like she was already going insane, like she was the only one able to scream that none of this meant anything. And if she was already going insane, then why not at least commit to it?
She still hesitated, as was her wont. “I mean, no, that wouldn’t—well, now, maybe.”
She swallowed. Maybe? Her order was called again, and she could think of nothing worse than walking up and taking it. “I think… Yes.”
Her stomach dropped, and she could’ve vomited. Yet, when Ywain smiled, patting her shoulder, she felt thrilled. She felt faint. She was laughing. The world around her dimmed and the fantastical faces in front of her brightened. They were just as real as she was. The doors to the world she thought was forbidden swung open, and she found herself stumbling into fantasy and adventure.
