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A Miraculous Journey With Thor And Hisstory - Zodiac Series
Zodiac Series - Taurus - Chapter Sixteen

Zodiac Series - Taurus - Chapter Sixteen

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A MIRACULOUS JOURNEY WITH THOR AND HISSTORY — CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Lashae Dichali began her shift before the advent of visiting hours. Expecting the customary coolness of predawn open space, the hustle of the host she heard drew her notice. An orderly queue had commenced at the check-in window. At the top of the hour, she gestured to the first in line who presented identification.

“Nolana Raddage visiting Thor Tayson.”

Lashae entered the data. “I’m sorry. You’re not on the list. What’s your relationship?”

Nolana’s carriage climbed in confidence. “Human.”

Lashae’s brows furrowed, but her tenor stayed even. “We’re all human.”

Nolana fingered her bracelet, brightening, “That’s my point.”

Adjusting her glasses atop the bridge of her nose, Lashae enunciated, “My point is, what’s your relationship to the patient? Human is not enough.”

The line grew conspicuously quiet, ears tuned to the talking two. “Why not?” volleyed Nolana, placing her hands on her hips.

“Hospital policy,” shot back Lashae.

Nolana pressed forward, insisting, “He’s expecting me.”

“How can that be if you’re not on his list?”

“We’ll wait to be on his list.”

Perplexity plastered Lashae’s features. “We?”

Nolana motioned to the swelling ranks. “I suspect all of us.”

Lashae addressed the congenial group. “Who came to see Thor Tayson?”

Amidst the bevy of raised hands, a fashionable female attired in elegance stepped out of the unfolding formation and politely stood by Nolana.

Lashae was flabbergasted. “Mom, what are you doing here?”

“The same as everyone. He’s expecting us, honey. You’ll see. Do as you must; follow protocol. We understand.”

Lashae summoned her supervisor, who tasked security to corral the expanding convivial crowd, notify the hospital director in charge, and apprise the medical team of the sedate surfeit.

* * *

Dov, Ruslan, and Kyle arrived at the hospital as the morning light trickled through the small fifth floor window of Thor’s regular patient room. His nurse on duty, Briamid Jockander, instructed them, “Your friend’s had a rough night, boys. Don’t disturb him.”

Sitting beside their pal, the three quietly observed Thor until the two seniors shifted to lewd attention. Orbs of unabashed eroticism ogled Briamid’s beckoning backside and voluptuous cleavage, as she bent down, skirt hiked, to untangle twisted tubes she had spied.

“Stop it,” mumbled Thor adrift in sleep. Waking dully disgruntled, he brokered a greeting smile.

The nubile nurse stood, unaware of the salacious salivation. “Good morning, sugar. Ready for breakfast?”

“Thanks, Briamid.”

After her exit, the mates scooted their chairs closer to Thor, who started to cough when clearing his throat.

“Kyle, would you catch up to Briamid and grab some juice? My throat’s dry.”

Upon Kyle’s departure, Thor went for the jugular.

“That’s enough.”

“What’s enough?” chorused the confounded two.

“Stop undressing my nurse.”

They reddened, then realized.

“Liar!” charged Ruslan. “You said you couldn’t read minds.”

“I didn’t lie. I couldn’t.”

Dov shot back. “Now you can?”

“Since I woke from the coma.”

“You purposely excluded Kyle with that phony cough. Why?” challenged Ruslan.

“His thoughts are elsewhere, unlike yours.”

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

“Stay out of our heads, you peeping Tom,” squirming Dov inveighed.

“A dragnet of prattle isn’t a gift.”

“It’s a power over others. Mighty enticing, I’d say,” underlined Ruslan.

“Power proffers a proverbial entrapment of servitude.”

Unconvinced Dov persisted. “It gives you an advantage. Doesn’t that tempt you, even a tad?”

“I’m not a voyeur or enslaved by enchantment, neither swayed by power nor ruled by tyranny. Powerful trappings are not labeled risk-free. No other will be the master of my agency but me.”

“Like it or not, you’re spying on our thoughts,” berated Ruslan.

“Not for long. I’m learning to block them. I’d go insane otherwise.”

“So you’re aware what we came to say?” reasoned Dov, holding out his hand for emphasis.

Thor looked intently at them, grasping Dov’s hand in brief confirmation. “I have no explanation for what I can do, but I’m mustering tolerance for changes I feel. I’m also aware what you didn’t come to say. Baptism of fire, Ruslan? Nice try, but you think you can shield me?”

Both boys tensed; Ruslan retorted defensively, “It’s only my theory.”

Thor indicated his neck, wrists, and ankles. “The scars Hisstory showed me are not a theory.”

Ruslan grimaced through his blunt query, “You said you don’t remember. What do you know?”

“It’s what I feel, not what I know. Last night I suffered severe sensations of burning and freezing, alternating like a light switch. Mobilized in misery without redress, barring resort to a groan or word, I bore torment, because I won’t be put under a microscope by anyone. I’m a guinea pig already with the drugs and the tests, every move of mine monitored to a magistral degree. The less I say, the better, and more the likelihood of my staying free.”

Kyle returned with the juice alongside the arrival of Theogen, Svetana, and Stafford, his coat bulging with hidden Hisstory.

“Yum!” Thor lit up at the sight of Svetana, who laughed.

“Ah, your senses are sharper than yesterday.” The others looked baffled. “I baked his favorite cake, passion fruit. It’s a toss up which he relishes more, the taste or the smell.”

The cake was divvied up and passed around in merry minutes before embarking on a breakfast anchored by Dr. Moshamp’s appearance.

“Theogen, may we talk in private?”

“Why?”

“No need to concern Mr. Tayson. We handled it.”

The formality invoked high alert.

“Handled what?” asked Thor on edge.

“An issue I’ll discuss with your guardian.”

“You’ve piqued the boy. Privacy at this point is out of the question,” accentuated Theogen.

“As you wish. We had a situation developing, though currently contained. No cause for alarm. Security will be stationed at his door momentarily.”

Thor trembled, “You’re imprisoning me?”

“Protecting you, my son.”

His tenor tanned in civility, sadness swept Thor’s terrain. “I’m sorry I’m not your son, Dr. Moshamp. My role is an orphan.”

Dr. Moshamp quivered, but quickly recovered, his unnerved lineaments draining their malaise as he pivoted to the others wrapped with a mollified smile of explanation.

“The primitive child speaks nonsense to take me literally, a novice to nuances.”

Heaviness hung with the detected double-entendre of intense intimacy until buffered by Theogen.

“We’re schooling his sophistication in such matters.”

“All the more reason his exposure to riffraff be barred.”

“They’re not riffraff.” Thor’s voice was clarion clear.

“You heard about them?”

Theogen interceded. “Heard about what?”

“The crowds lined up to see him.”

The compadres exchanged glances, as Theogen steadied his query. “There are crowds to see Thor? Where?”

“Confined in public corridors until they tire and leave. So far they’ve been obedient, but rabble-rousers will be ejected. They’ll disband eventually.”

“Why haven’t we been told?”

“Staff was sworn to secrecy, until security was in force throughout the facility. I’m free to inform you now.”

Thor’s voice broke as he spoke, his features framed in affright, “I want… to see them.”

“Permission denied. Rising from a coma does not render you invincible. Indiscriminate exposure is suicidal. Your coma won’t be your bane, but instead the rabble curious at your recovery. I’m your doctor, not your executioner, and I forbid it.”

Dr. Moshamp turned to exit.

“Please, Theogen,” entreated the trammeled teen.

The compassionate elder did not discount his minor’s distress, but hesitated nevertheless, conflicted.

Choked with emotion, the crushed youth cried, “They’re expecting me… It’s my right to see them.”

Though reluctant, Theogen relented. “I’ll authorize it. We’ll remain as monitors.”

Dr. Moshamp about-faced. “Absolutely not.”

“How’s that?”

“This call’s outside your jurisdiction. We curb your cub if you will not.”

“My decision stands as his aegis.”

“He’s a ward of this hospital while under its roof. Preeminent reigns our authority controlling his visitors, trumping your aegis. We steward for the child’s own good, not to indulge his vagaries. Good day gentlemen, and my lady.”

The devastated youngster angrily threw back his bed covers. “Help me up. I need a breather. Let’s walk.”

Theogen encouraged, “We’ll notify Briamid to unhook you. You boys shepherd him, while we butt heads with the hospital.”

Flanked by his fealty fellows, fuming Thor hobbled up and down the hallway simply clad in his hospital gown and slippers, nodding to the officer posed at his door upon each emasculating pass, a constant reminder of his impotence.

“So much for agency,” mused Ruslan, as they ambled by an opening elevator.

Thor’s boggled brain braked abruptly. “Want to bet? Follow me.”

He ducked into the lift, joining the other passengers. The three slipped in beside him.

“What are you doing?” asked Kyle.

“Exerting my agency.”

Predicted Ruslan, “Spelled notorious in my playbook as running afoul of the doctor.”

“He has a son?” ventured Dov.

Anguish attired Thor’s atmosphere. “He did.”

The elevator hit the lobby level, unloading its cargo.

Thor spotted the throng in the distance, quickening his plodding pace. “There. Let’s go. I will see them all.”

“I will see them all, repeated Ruslan. “You recited that the first time you spoke upon waking. You foresaw this, didn’t you?”

“This and more.”

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