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A MIRACULOUS JOURNEY WITH THOR AND HISSTORY — CHAPTER NINETEEN

Imprisoned in sticky strands crisscrossing its slim surface, the zodiac pendant braved the plotting arachnids, unfazed it was tucked under a floor plank of the rimose repository. Though patiently waiting for the boy to come, it nevertheless profusely pouted, Scat! Get off my face! The intractable army of spider squatters refused to listen, but instead persisted.

Creak! The storage door cracked open. Glimmers of light, flanked by hope, peered inside; the weaving spiders were caught by surprise. The energized medallion jolted the squatters who jumped to the sides. Footsteps came closer. Knelt knees pressed into the wood planks; the key plank lifted above the expectant pendant. Good riddance, it bellowed in farewell, while the waltzing webs were brushed off its surface. Whee! it exclaimed, as it whirled round the teen's neck, nestling near his heart. It was happy; it was home.

What was that? thought Thor to the crisp sound in his mind, a strange melodic tone oddly familiar, like the clinking cascade of metallic coins.

Uh oh.

Where had he heard the unusual pitch before today? Who’s there?

You can hear me?

Thor looked around, alone in the closet. I can.

Silence met his response in the stillness of the storage room. Even spiders stopped at the stance of a looming showdown, though whoever belonged to the novel sound seemed to need some coaxing.

Tap! Tap! Tap! Thor’s foot pedaled a floor plank with gentle persuasion. Your turn.

Yikes, kid! Not used to turns with hearing humans.

Give it a shot. I won’t bite, whoever you are.

Where should I start?

Anywhere is better than nowhere.

Easy for you to say. Tough decision for a multifaceted vision.

Time is ticking. Make up your mind.

What to parlay in your ticking time… Should I say this… Or that… Or maybe… No… Yes… Perhaps…

I’m waiting.

I’m thinking… Hmm… Let’s see... Okay, first things first. Thank you.

For what?

Wiping off those naughty spider threads.

Thor’s eyes widened. Where are you?

The pendant vibrated in reply. No, reacted Thor, stunned by the buzz beside his chest.

Yes, came the alien tambourine timbre.

Replacing the plank he held in his hand, Thor sank into a seated position, cross-legged on the floor. He slipped the pendant from his neck, dangling it in front of him. Okay, first things first. How should I address you?

The medallion spun as it spoke, projecting bright beams of light that bounced off the surrounds. Ah, my name. Why, Zodiac of course.

Of course. I should have known.

Ms. Zodiac, to invoke formality.

Ms.?

Let’s try it on and see if it fits.

Other apparel you care to wear?

I'm fond of Zodie. A suitable coat of informality, since we do have an intimate relationship.

We do?

How many ride next to your skin, hearing your heartbeat?

I can think of one.

The one doesn’t count.

Why not?

She’s blood.

Hisstory’s blood to you? How?

Spiritual blood.

Explain.

A sister-in-arms.

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

Curious coinage, first blood, now arms; neither sister has literal arms. Why pick that phrase?

A trivial technicality for one who raises many questions.

Your answers raise many questions.

As they innately should. You, me, Hisstory, aren’t we brethren-in-arms? We seek answers; we raise questions. Yet, who we are will always raise more questions than answers. That is the nature of our existence.

Another philosopher?

Another? Quite the reverse. I was first, remember? You heard me once, but not thereafter, when accused of stealing me.

I remember your valiant defense of me, employing elegant philosophy.

Wasn’t it? I thought so, but didn’t foretaste the “guard me well” part to translate to the floor plank treatment.

I was keeping you safe, as you instructed.

Not from spiders.

Who’s more mischievous, spiders or humans?

I concur with the point you make; humans for sure win that debate.

Zodiac slowed, then ceased her spin, foreseeing her move from without to within. Thor popped the pendant around his neck and continued to converse on the way to the Museum. Ambushing Thor in the rain forest, the pretend predator telepathed her pretend prey.

Planning to play hooky?

What?

Gonna wiggle out of the debate?

You mean, like feign illness?

Just asking.

It’s not required; I have a choice.

Sure you do.

You think I don’t?

Just philosophizing.

Either fight or philosophize. You choose.

Abruptly ending her telepathy, Hisstory vanquished Thor.

What a lame constriction game. Lizards do better than that, sounded the cascading coin pendant hidden under his shirt, as the youth lay entwined with the serpent.

The hiss of the reptile replicated a growl in objection to the impromptu critique.

What kind of welcome is that?

Where’ve you been hiding?

In a closet.

A field day for spiders.

Not nice, Hiss.

Ditto, Zodie.

Thor eyed the rain forest roof as he rose from the foliage floor. More falling dust.

It’s more than specks of dust that you see… began the boa.

…It’s the dust of a storm that could drape mankind in misery, ended the pendant.

The pair spoke blithely back and forth without interruption, until Thor passed the obnoxious ads hugging the halls. At each humming slogan, situated to saturate the former quiescent solitude space, Hisstory hissed, looped round his body, while Zodiac buzzed, snuggled round his neck. Enough with your howls, telepathed Thor, feeling the frequency infiltrate his mind. He swiped his hand with determined precision against the closest ad clawing the wall. A slight spark prompted applause - Gotcha - in a chime from his watchful team, while he strode purposely toward Stafford Klingshire's office.

The succulent scent of passion fruit cake prompted the three to chorus - Yum - as they approached Svetana’s antechamber. Gaily hanging festive decorations in celebration of his return, Svetana spotted Thor’s rapt expression upon his entry.

“Your first day back, and you’re already up to something. What’s on your mind?”

Thor shuffled sheepishly at her spot-on intuition. “Your cake.”

“That’s true, but what else?”

Thor tried to smooth his features. “That obvious?”

“To me, yes.” The charmer put her hands on her hips, a mellifluous move to mellow him.

“I want to run something by you and Mr. Klingshire.”

Stafford appeared at the portal to his office. “Well, come on in; you’ve baited us both.”

Svetana shut the door, then sat at the conference table aside Stafford in steadfast attention. Compulsion caused the lucid lad to pace the room in his plea, unable to sit still. At his signal, the snake unwound the teen's torso and contently coiled the attractive lass, who beckoned the boa.

Ooh, this should be good, piped up the pendant.

Shush; you’ll distract him, said the serpent.

You won’t distract me; you’re free to be in our triad of universality. I accept you both wholeheartedly. Hisstory and Zodiac recognized this was Thor’s official endorsement of their mystical union, there in the heart of the Museum, there in his mind in the midst of a quandary.

“I have a theory about these campaign ads lining the Museum as well as the Institute.”

“We wouldn’t have them if we weren’t forced.” Frustration salted Stafford's syllables.

“They give us headaches when we get too near.” Svetana caressed Hisstory with patent affection. “Much more than last election.”

Thor's pace picked up speed. “Being forced, having headaches, these are related."

Stafford straightened. “You think they have an influence on us?”

“I do.”

Svetana tossed her head. “We think so, too.”

“You’ve talked about it?” Thor was heartened.

“Svetana and I, privately we have.” Stafford studied Thor in motion before continuing, “I've never seen you pace like that; you’ve got something up your sleeve, haven’t you? Tell us your theory.”

Thor came to a standstill, gazing at them with orbs aglow. “I believe we can neutralize them.”

Stafford sat forward, his hand drumming the table. “You said we.”

“The bravehearted we who buffered me.” Thor pointedly flexed his fingers, riveted on Stafford. “You have a question, but not about this.”

Stafford’s eyes matched the intensity of Thor’s. “The first day you entered the time machine, what happened? You never explained. Will you now?”

Tilting his palms upward, the colt considered carefully. “What you always thought happened.”

Stafford’s hand trembled with emotion. “You know the risk of what you stated?”

Thor teared. “As I know the risk of stating we, the risks you took on behalf of me. Thought, speech, action, all of it filled to the brim of our volition.”

Stafford waded through a pensive pond. “You trust us with your life.”

Thor's breaths deepened. “You brought me back to life.”

Stafford beamed. Svetana sighed. Hisstory hissed. Zodiac warmed. Thor eased into a chair, gazing at the gal of honeyed hair. Stafford surmised what the boy was thinking. “Time out to taste Svetana’s cake?”

The delectable damsel displayed a dynamic grin. “Or frost it first with our plan of action? You decide, gentlemen.”

Thor smiled at the deference, but deflected in reverence for the elder gent. On a path yet unknown, his steps were slow, but forged rock-solid steady. With the trust of true friends, human and otherwise, he could fit into shoes that were laced to be ready.

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