by C. Gockel
Amy’s eyebrow hikes up.
Laughing, Bohdi says, “There might have been alcohol involved.” Leaning close to Amy, he whispers conspiratorially, “But she tells me, if I were a girl, she’d totally do me.” Giving Amy a wink, he says, “If I were a girl I’d totally do her, too.”
He’s not sure if it’s his imagination, but he thinks Amy’s cheeks have gone a little pink.
Waggling his eyebrows, Bohdi snatches the phone from Amy. And then scowling at the wonky scroll feature, he tries to navigate back to the photo of his parents. Almost to himself he says, “I don’t know why every man doesn’t have a lesbian friend. They’re the most underutilized source of priceless information.” And Nat was just plain cool. He looks up at Amy and says wistfully, “She’s how I know women’s underwear is so comfortable.”
Amy’s cheeks do go very red at that—which makes Bohdi snicker.
Narrowing her eyes, she says, “If she is a lesbian. How—”
Bohdi nods. “Had to borrow hers. I woke up in the back of her car with my underwear draped over a potted cactus.” Seeing Amy aghast at the visual, Bohdi waves a hand and says, “There’s a long story behind it…”
“Do tell,” says Amy.
“That, I’m sure, would be very interesting if I could remember it,” Bohdi says. Finding the picture of his parents again, Bohdi hands the phone back to Amy.
She takes it and her eyebrows go up. “This is your girlfriend? She looks familiar…”
Bohdi snatches the phone from her again. It’s a picture of Marion and him at a Cubs game. She’s beaming, perky, and cute—as usual. He shakes his head. “This is Marion, you probably saw her at headquarters. We’re just friends.”
Actually, the polite term for it might be friends with benefits. But Marion asked him to keep it quiet, and he likes Marion, even if out of the sack he finds her as exciting as well…baseball… He’s sure Marion’s feelings about him are pretty much the same, even if baseball isn’t the metaphor she’d use.
“Are you drunk in this picture, too?” Amy says, leaning over to take another look at the photo. Bohdi snorts. His eyes are half closed in the picture and he has a beer in his hand. “I wish,” he says. “I was just half asleep. I don’t know how anyone stands baseball. It’s a lot of foul balls, time outs, and crotch grabbing.”
Amy groans. “I know!”
Bohdi sighs and shakes his head. It isn’t that Marion isn’t clever, or interesting… It’s just that they don’t have any interests in common.
Bohdi scrolls to the picture of the happy Indian family. Handing the phone to her, he says, “I came here to find them.”
“Oh,” says Amy taking the phone from him.
Bohdi swallows. “I think they’re my parents.”
Amy’s eyes meet him over the phone. “You don’t remember anything…before?”
Bohdi looks down at the ground. “No. Not about them. Not about my culture—I’m a blank slate.” He rubs his jaw. Even his accent has faded. And he has a low tolerance for spicy food. Asha, an Indian girl he’d dated for a time, thought that was the saddest thing ever.
“They look like such nice people,” she says as she looks back down at the photo.
The honest response would be, I know. But the conversation is getting too heavy. He gives his best cheeky grin and says, “You say that like you’re surprised.”
Amy lifts her eyes to meet his.
Putting his hand over his chest, he gives her his best hurt puppy dog look and says, “You think I’m not nice?”
Amy’s eyes narrow. “Nice isn’t the first word I’d choose,” she says.
Bohdi sits up straighter. “Hey!” But he feels the affront melting away.
Handing the phone back to him, she says, “Still, you’re all right.” She gets up and walks over to the baskets the Norns left. Popping a top off a vial tucked between some towels, she says, “I am so tired of smelling like water moccasin.”
“You don’t smell like water moccasin,” says Bohdi.
Smiling, she says, “You just don’t notice because you smell like dead fish.”
“I…” Bohdi lifts his shirt, inhales, and winces. “Thought that was the surf…” he mumbles.
Joining Amy, he begins picking through the contents of the other basket. Pulling out what looks like a bunch of bright purple silk fabric, he says, “I think this is for you.”
Regarding it a moment, Amy says, “No, it’s too long. I think it’s for you.”
“But it’s a skirt,” says Bohdi, blinking a little as his vision goes blurry for a moment.
“Nope, just poofy pants,” says Amy.
Bohdi holds the fabric up in front of him. They are pant-like, but… Turning his head and lifting his nose, he sniffs dismissively. “I refuse to dress like a giant grape.”
Amy giggles and he can’t contain his grin of triumph. Dropping the pants to hold them against his waist, he whispers to Amy, “Maybe they think I’m Aladdin…you know, ’cause I’m brown.”
Amy puts a hand to her mouth and laughs. She has a cute smile and a cute laugh…and he wants more. Bohdi begins to sashay his hips and sing. “Daaa-da…Dot-dot-da-da-daaaa…Daaa-da…Dot-dot-da-da-daaaa…”
Amy laughs, “That’s the I Dream of Jeannie theme song!”
Flicking a wrist, giving a Bollywood-worthy hip shake, Bohdi says, “I don’t know the Aladdin theme! Da-da…Dot-dot-da-da-daaaa…”
Amy laughs so hard she looks like she’s about to fall over. Bohdi’s laughing, too, somehow able to ignore the pain in his lungs. And then there is crack from the sky behind him, a boom, and the whole world shakes. Bohdi falls face first to the ground, coughing and spitting dirt from his mouth.
Thor’s voice rages through the trees. “What is the meaning of this?” Rolling over, Bohdi lifts his head. Amy is immediately at his side. Thor’s hammer lies in the sandy loam just beyond his feet. Bohdi raises his eyes. Thor’s chariot hangs in the sky. It’s coated with black soot and bloodstains and is missing a wheel. Lashed to the front of it is a military drone.
Bohdi swallows, and exhales in a raspy wheeze.
The chariot starts to descend. Bohdi meets Thor’s eyes. The space Viking lifts a hand and the hammer flies up into it. Swinging the hammer in the air, Thor roars. “I have searched for you—through fire and in forests! I have fought winged dinosaurs, and giant spiders, and I find you here—making jests!”
Thor leaps from the chariot before it’s even met the ground. Lips curling into a snarl, he strides toward Amy and Bohdi, hammer raised.
Amy’s hand tightens on Bohdi’s shoulder. There is a whoosh of air. Bohdi blinks and finds himself staring up at the back of the silvered-haired Addie. “Easy there, Gilgamesh,” she purrs. “No one dies on this island except by my command.”
Thor stops in his tracks. His nostrils flare. His gaze locks on the Norn.
From beside Bohdi, Amy shouts at the now very red-faced warrior. “Oh, yeah? We fell into a nest of giant spiders! We fought big spiders, baby spiders, fire, kappa, alligators, adze, and snakes! Bohdi caught a fever and nearly died!”
Bohdi blinks. Nearly died?
Thor’s eyes slide to Amy. He snorts. “You embellish.”
There is another rush of air, and Lache is suddenly beside Thor, idly stroking his hammer. “No, Beowulf, they don’t.”
From behind Amy and Bohdi comes a giggle. Bohdi turns to see Chloe pressing four hands to her mouth. “Sorry, Master Skywalker, but it’s true. They had a more exciting adventure than you.”
Lache tsks. “Chloe, this isn’t Skywalker, you are getting your heroes confused.”
“Indeed, I am not,” rumbles Thor, pulling his hammer away from Lache. “Skywalker is…was…one of Loki's names." He eyes the other two Norns. "Nor am I Beowulf, or Gilgamesh.”
Giving a light laugh, Addie says, “Forgive us. You heroes are all alike…” Turning her head to Chloe, Addie says, “This is obviously Hercules…Loki’s sidekick.”
“Loki’s w
hat?” shouts Thor, lightning whipping from his hammer.
All three of the Norns break into laughter.
“I am Thor!” the space Viking bellows.
Waving a hand, Lache says, “Whatever. When you’re ready to talk in a civilized manner, you may walk up to our home and ask your question, Hiawatha.”
Walking over to Thor’s chariot, Chloe says, “Don’t bring this thing.” She sniffs. “It’s filthy.”
And then all three of the women disappear.
Thor spins in place with a growl. He looks up at the towering column, his eyes narrow, and then he starts beating a path through the trees in that direction. Growling to himself, he reaches out with his hammer and knocks down a few trees—apparently just out of spite.
Still sprawled out on the ground, Bohdi watches him go. When Thor’s disappeared from view, Amy sits down on the sand beside him.
“Are you all right?”
“Sure,” Bohdi lies. He rubs his forehead and gets slowly to his feet. “Why don’t you take the first dip?” He mumbles, tipping his head toward the pool of water. “I think I need a nap.”
He stumbles in the direction of the hammock, and Amy follows, just behind him.
“I’m too tired to sneak a peek if that’s what you’re worried about,” Bohdi says snippily.
“That isn’t what I’m worried about,” Amy says, but Bohdi’s only half aware.
He falls into the hammock a few moments later and closes his eyes. He’s dimly aware of Amy’s hand on his forehead. What seems like just a few minutes later, she’s shaking him. “Hey, Sleeping Beauty, wake up.”
Bohdi swats in the general direction of her voice. “Go away!”
Amy catches his hands. “Bohdi, wake up! You’re scaring me!”
Something in her voice makes him shiver, even though it feels like the day has gotten much warmer.
He opens his eyes and sees Amy sitting sideways beside him. She swallows. “Your fever is back.” She bites her lip. “This happened when Beatrice caught pneumonia, too. Her fever would go away, and then come back…”
She motions toward the trees. “The pool is cool. It will help keep your temperature down.” She raises an eyebrow. With what sounds like forced cheeriness, she says, “You don’t need anymore brain damage.”
Bohdi snorts at the joke. And then for the first time, he realizes that Amy’s hair is wet, combed back, and pulled into a neat ponytail again. She doesn’t look beautiful like Addie, Chloe, or Lache, but she looks real and human. She’s wearing her jeans and a too large linen shirt. The shirt wouldn’t be flattering, except it’s almost sheer, and from this angle, he thinks he can see the outline of her form beneath it. It might be the cut of the shirt, but her breasts look fuller, her waist finer, and the slope between her hips and belly button the perfect place to rest his hands, pull her in and just…snuggle.
Oh hell. He’s dying.
He sits up so quickly his vision goes black. Before she can say anything, he stands and heads back in the direction of the pool.
x x x x
“What do you think?” Bohdi says, buttoning a small navy vest over his bare chest. He’s sitting on a towel, with his back against a boulder. On his bottom half, he’s wearing his pants from work.
Sitting in front of him, Amy studies his appearance. “Well…”
Bohdi waggles his eyebrows. He’d like to stand up and strike a pose, but even though the dip in the water made him feel better, he still feels…off. Light headed. A little too warm.
“It’s flattering…” she says.
Bohdi adopts a bored expression, and casually flexes his biceps. When he turns and sneaks a peek at Amy, she’s blushing.
His lungs are burning and he feels like falling over—but he can’t help grinning. It’s true, he’s not precisely huge, but Steve’s forcing him to work out has definitely kept him toned. Amy’s blush is worth every boring moment at the gym. He is so buying Steve a beer when he gets back.
Amy regains her composure and says, “But it’s kind of Chippendale-ish, isn’t it?”
Bohdi’s watched Chip and Dale with Claire. He blinks. “Chipmunks?” He looks down at the vest. It isn’t striped like a chipmunk.
Amy snickers into her hand. “How is this the one cultural reference you’ve missed?”
Bohdi snips. “What? When it comes to cultural references, I’m only two years old. I haven’t watched every Disney cartoon…”
Amy laughs aloud. “No!”
“Well, what then?” Bohdi says, skin prickling.
“Strippers, Bohdi,” Amy says, face almost straight. “Male strippers.” She puts a hand over her mouth, obviously stifling another laugh.
Bohdi just stares at her. He hates it when he doesn’t know stuff like that. Lifting his chin defiantly, he bats his eyelashes. “Are you saying I could be a male stripper?”
Amy’s mouth makes a small “o.”
Breaking into a grin, Bohdi says, “Because if you are, I think I…”
Love you. A cough wracks through him, cutting off the last words. And maybe it’s good, even if he was just fooling.
“Bohdi!” Amy says, crawling over to his side.
And he doesn’t mean to, but he’s suddenly leaning on her. Holding a hand to his mouth, tears coming to his eyes—because of the force of the cough, or because he’s furious at his body for being so weak, he’s not sure. How the hell is he supposed to climb up to the Norns like this? He came all this way, and he can barely sit up.
The fit seems to last forever.
When he finally regains himself, he feels hotter, less lucid. It takes him the span of a few wheezy gasps to realize a shadow has fallen over them.
Lungs rasping, Bohdi lifts his head
…and finds himself staring into the face of Thor.
The space Viking is staring down at him. He doesn’t look angry. Just confused. Maybe even concerned.
Thor’s fingers flex on his hammer. “I…” The large man takes a deep breath. “…Overreacted earlier.”
Amy exhales softly.
“You must understand…” Thor says. “I thought I had failed to protect two weaker beings in my charge. I mourned your deaths…” Thor swallows, his eyes flit between Amy and Bohdi. “I apologize for my outburst.”
Bohdi feels Amy shift beside him.
Thor falls to one knee before them. “You are dying,” he says to Bohdi.
Bohdi sinks against the boulder he’s leaning on. Amy grabs his hand. “No, if we get him home, and get him a round of antibiotics, he’ll be fine.”
Thor shakes his head. “The pneumonia is not what’s killing him…It is his own body’s over-reaction to it.”
“Oh…” says Amy. Bohdi hears her swallow.
“How do you know that?” Bohdi wheezes, leaning into Amy. He would much rather believe her assessment…and yet…
Thor bows his head. “The Lord of Chaos can feel lies… I can feel sickness…and injury.” Raising his head, looking a little bashful, he shrugs. “It is not a particularly manly ability. But it is so.”
Little alarm bells go off in Bohdi’s mind. The Lord of Chaos can sense lies… Why is that important?
Amy squeezes Bohdi’s hand. “It’s true…” she whispers. “Thor can help you. I remember…”
Thor stretches a hand toward Bohdi’s chest. Bohdi scrambles backward in the sand, and presses himself against Amy, instinctively.
“Let me help you,” Thor says.
Amy squeezes Bohdi’s hand again. “Let him.”
Bohdi coughs. “If I let you…will I owe you something?” He doesn’t know why he asks. The words just come out.
Thor’s shoulders slump, as though Bohdi’s wounded him. “No. This I offer in friendship.”
Bohdi blinks. When did he and Thor become friends? He almost wants to say he’ll wait for the antibiotics. Something is wrong here, and yet… He looks up at the column. He won’t be able to walk those steps if he keeps feeling like this. So he nods and coughs out, “
Sure, do your worst.”
Thor presses his hand against Bohdi’s chest, just above the V of the vest. His fingers are cool and calloused. He says nothing. Just holds his hand there.
Bohdi is starting to feel silly…and then Thor’s fingers start to warm. The warmth spreads to Bohdi’s skin, and then inside to his lungs. At first, it’s comfortable…and then it’s not. His lungs feel like they’re burning and he gasps.
Pushing hard on Bohdi’s chest, Thor says, “Exhale!”
Bohdi does. The air that rushes out of him is a heavy cloud of moisture and blurs the world around him.
“Again!” barks Thor.
Bohdi gulps down some air and then exhales. The same thing happens—though the moisture in the cloud is lighter this time.
“He’s clearing the water from your lungs,” Amy whispers.
The big man nods. He presses his hand more firmly against Bohdi’s chest and closes his eyes. “And now to still his immune system…”
The heat in his chest dissipates. Bohdi feels only warmth. He inhales…and smiles in awe and relief. “There is no more pain.” And he feels like he can stand up.
Nodding again, Thor pulls his hand away. Standing, he gestures at the still blinking drone attached to the chariot. “Although we’ve lost the magical wire that helps you open gates, it appears your allies are opening them anyway. Perhaps we can use the metal bird to contact them somehow?”
Bohdi tries not to look surprised at Thor’s foresightedness.
“They must be periodically checking in…” Amy says.
Bohdi meets her eyes. “We could probably give them a time when we’ll be at the gate…”
“Or…” says Thor.
Amy and Bohdi turn to him.
Putting a hand on his chin, Thor says, “It is true this realm is dark in Heimdall’s eyes. However, if there is a magical event large enough, it can act like a beacon… He would be able to see where we are…and my father could create a new gate to Asgard.”
“Uh…” says Bohdi. Amy draws closer to his side, if that were possible.
“As my faithful companions, you’d both be my honored guests,” Thor says.
Bohdi’s brow furrows. They hadn’t been companions that long…
“And able to stay as long as you like…” Thor says. “It is a beautiful realm, filled with wonders of magic and science.”
