Thor Is Locked in My Garage!

by Robert J. Harris

  “St Andrews,” said Greg. “But how?”

  “It must have been the Lokiday spell,” said Lewis. “The one Loki tricked us into casting that brought back his special day. Loki was magically transported here from Las Vegas. The same thing must have happened to the treasures.”

  “And the magic charged them up again,” said Greg.

  “That sounds about right,” Thor agreed. “They are now hidden all around St Andrews. Because of my special bond with Mjolnir, I felt it call to me, even though I was far out at sea.”

  “What were you doing at sea?” asked Greg.

  “Working on an oil rig,” said Thor. “A fellow has to make a living. It took me a long time to track the hammer to St Andrews. I sure didn’t expect the weather to be this bad.”

  “It’s not supposed to be like this,” said Lewis. “This is Loki’s doing.”

  “Loki!” exclaimed Thor, his beard bristling. “Is that hogsbreath here in town?”

  “He’s here, all right,” said Greg. “He opened the Fumblewinter Box.”

  “Fimbulwinter,” Lewis corrected him.

  Thor smacked his fist against the pillow and boomed. “Gotterdamerung!” He looked at the brothers and added, “Pardon my language, boys, but this means big trouble.”

  “He told us the Troll King made the box for him,” said Lewis, “so I suppose he was able to track it the same way you tracked your hammer.”

  “So tell us, Sven, why has he started this blizzard?” Greg asked.

  “He is one tricky snake,” Thor scowled. “He must have some mischief in mind.”

  “Yes, we figured that much out for ourselves,” said Greg.

  “He said he wanted to keep everybody off the streets so they wouldn’t get in his way,” prompted Lewis.

  Thor bit into a fresh sandwich, his brow knotted in thought.

  Greg leaned over to Lewis and murmured, “You know, even after all we’ve been through, it still feels weird to have the god of thunder sitting on my bed, eating a cheese and pickle sandwich.”

  “The Treasures of Asgard,” said Thor at last. He nodded slowly to himself. “He wants to grab all the treasures for himself. He is searching the town for them.”

  “Hang on, you said you could find the hammer because it belonged to you,” Greg objected. “How is Loki going to find the treasures if they don’t belong to him?”

  Thor picked up Mjolnir and laid it in his lap. “The treasures all have an affinity with each other. You can use one to detect the others.”

  “With just one treasure he’s already buried St Andrews in snow,” said Lewis. “Just think the damage he’ll cause if he gets all of them.”

  “Then we need to go and stop him right now,” said Greg, springing to his feet.

  “You’re right, boys,” Thor agreed. “We shall be allies in the battle against the evil one.” He thrust his clenched fist out towards them. Greg grinned and bumped his own fist against it and Lewis followed suit.

  “For the honour of Asgard!” Thor declared.

  “Right on!” Greg said. “We’re coming for you now, Loki!”

  “We sure are,” Thor agreed. “But is it all right if I freshen up first? I’ve had a long journey.”

  “Come on,” said Lewis, “I’ll show you where the bathroom is.”

  Leaving Greg to polish off the last of the sandwiches, Lewis led Thor into the hallway and showed him where to find the bathroom. Thor walked over and put a hand on the door handle.

  The instant he opened the door, a torrent of snow burst out of the bathroom and slammed him against the wall with the force of an avalanche. Thor slumped to the floor and disappeared under a mound of white.

  Spilling out with the snow came the contents of the room: toothbrushes, sponges, Dad’s shaver, toothpaste, shampoo, Mum’s hairdryer, the toilet brush, soap, flannels, towels, a rubber duck, face cream, shower gel, and a dozen other toiletries.

  The noise brought Greg rushing out to where Lewis stood frozen in shock. He gaped at the scene. “What’s going on? Where’s Thor?”

  Lewis pointed numbly to where their visitor had disappeared.

  “How could you let this happen?” Greg demanded.

  “How is it my fault?” Lewis exclaimed. “All I did was show him where the toilet was.”

  “I leave you in charge for a few seconds,” grumbled Greg, jumping on to the snow, “and he ends up buried under his own personal avalanche.”

  Lewis joined him and they dug with their bare hands, ignoring the chill in their fingers. Once they had cleared Thor’s head they could see he was breathing but unconscious. Pausing for breath, Lewis suddenly became aware of a cold draft gusting down the back of his neck, and turned in the direction of the bathroom.

  “The window must have blown open,” he said.

  “Even so,” said Greg, clearing snow off Thor’s broad shoulders, “all that snow couldn’t have piled up in there by itself.”

  Just then the snow beneath them convulsed. It threw them to the floor with a violent heave, like a wild horse tossing a rider off its back.

  Scrambling to his knees, Greg cried, “Now what?”

  “It’s Loki’s snow magic!” gasped Lewis. “He knows where we live, remember?”

  Before their horrified gaze the mound of snow was rising up, forming an animal shape like an enormous bear, with sharp icicle teeth and wicked claws.

  “Thor! Sven! Wake up!” Greg yelled desperately.

  The god of thunder did not stir as the monster reared over him, its frozen jaws opening wide.

  5. Christmas Lights

  Lewis and Greg got to their feet and stared in horror. Only one of the creature’s arms was fully formed and its lower half was still a shapeless mass of snow. When they took a step towards it, it turned its glassy eyes on them and lashed out with its single claw.

  The boys reeled back in shock.

  “I bet you wish I’d built that flamethrower now,” said Greg.

  “We need something to stop it before it’s finished forming,” said Lewis, his eyes darting around the bathroom items strewn across the floor. “There’s the thing!” he exclaimed, diving for Mum’s hairdryer.

  He rammed the plug into the nearest socket, flipped the switch to maximum, and turned the stream of hot air on the monster. The ice beast recoiled from the heat and let out an angry crackle.

  “Keep it on its face!” said Greg. “It doesn’t like that.”

  Getting as close as he dared, Lewis directed the drier at the bear-like face. The eyes and teeth began to grow watery, but when the monster twisted away they grew solid again.

  “This is just stalling it,” said Lewis. “It’s not strong enough to melt it.”

  “We need more firepower,” said Greg.

  The wind whipped through the open door of the bathroom, casting a flurry of snowflakes over them.

  “I’ve got it!” Greg declared. “Lewis, you keep it distracted while I make my move.”

  Shaking with nerves, Lewis inched closer, thrusting the hairdryer at the monster’s face. He ducked as an angry claw slashed the air above his head.

  At that moment Greg launched himself past the creature into the bathroom. He slithered across the snow and struggled towards the shower where he wrenched the shower head out of its fixture. He turned the water full on and twisted the temperature control to maximum.

  Stretching the shower cord as far as it would go, he fired the jet of water at the ice beast. The heating had been on all day, so the water was boiling. It blasted through the creature, forcing a screech from its melting jaws. Clouds of steam billowed through the hallway as the animal features dissolved in the hot spray.

  When Thor stirred into consciousness all that was left of the monster was a single arm standing on end, poking its claw at him. The thunder god growled, and with one blow of his brawny fist smashed it to fragments.

  “I think we’re done,” said Lewis, switching off the hairdryer.

  Greg replaced the shower head an
d switched off the water. Then he slammed the bathroom window shut.

  “Well, that sure was a surprise,” said Thor, standing up and brushing the snow off himself.

  Susie came bounding up the stairs and stopped when she saw the floor. “Hey, did you guys just have a water fight?” she asked. Then she spotted Thor, who was kicking some slush off his boots. “Is that the guy your mum said was poking about in the garage? Sven something or other?”

  “He’s Thor,” said Greg. “You know, the god of thunder. But I suppose you could try to persuade him he’s an alien.”

  “I don’t need to persuade him,” said Susie. “He knows.”

  Thor picked up a towel off the floor and started drying his hair. “Call me Sven.”

  Dad appeared at the top of the stairs. “What’s happened here?” he asked mildly. “Have the pipes burst?”

  “Not exactly,” said Lewis. As usual, he was amazed at how calmly their dad took everything.

  Dad eyed his two sons. “Maybe it’s my suspicious nature,” he said, “but is there something going on around here that I should know about?”

  “You wouldn’t believe us if we told you,” said Greg.

  “Don’t be so sure of that. I believe a lot of strange things. I saw the Loch Ness Monster once, when I was about your age.”

  “Really, Dad?” said Lewis.

  “Of course, it might just have been a log floating in the water,” said Dad. “Either way, I wish I’d had my camera.”

  Lewis caught Greg’s eye. He decided to take the plunge and come clean. “Dad,” he began, “that time a few months back, when you were away in Wales, a lot of strange things happened here.”

  “How do you mean strange?” asked Dad.

  Greg jumped in. “Crazy, weird, whacked out, completely off the wall,” he said. “You know, totally fruit and nuts.”

  “Is that right?” said Dad. “Your mother didn’t mention anything about it when I got back.”

  “Nobody remembers except us,” said Lewis.

  “And this guy who’s calling himself Larry O’Keefe was behind it all,” said Greg.

  “Ja, that villain must be stopped,” said Thor, shaking his fist.

  “Larry O’Keefe, a villain?” said Dad. “He seemed a nice enough chap.” He reached absentmindedly for his pipe before remembering he was indoors.

  “Mr Mac,” Susie cut in, “the boys are a bit mixed up, but there is something totally weird going on. If you ask me, it’s aliens.”

  “Nobody asked you, Spinny,” said Greg.

  At that moment the lights all over the house flickered and went out.

  “Whoa! Blackout!” exclaimed Susie.

  “The water must have got into the wiring,” Dad observed. “I expect that’s done for the central heating as well.”

  “We’ll freeze to death if we stay here then,” said Greg.

  “It’s obviously not safe here anyway,” Lewis pointed out.

  “That much is for sure,” said Thor.

  “You can all come to our place till your electricity’s fixed,” Susie offered.

  “That’s very kind of you, Susie,” said Dad. “But will your mum and dad be all right with that?”

  “Oh, they love company,” Susie assured him. She pulled out her phone and tried to call home. “Still no signal. But it won’t matter. They’re always inviting folk to stay. They say the house feels empty since Frankie and Toni moved out.”

  Susie’s older brother Francis was a data analyst in London and her older sister Antonia was spending the summer working in Colorado. “If you’re quite certain about that,” said Mr McBride, “we wouldn’t say no.”

  “It might be best to have another base for operations, too,” said Greg. “One Larry O’Keefe doesn’t know about.”

  “What’s going on up there?” Mum called from below. “What’s happened to the lights?”

  “The power’s out,” answered Dad. “We’re going over to the Spinettis.”

  Everybody packed a bag and they set out on foot. Dad judged it wasn’t worth getting the car stuck in the snow when the Spinettis only lived two streets away.

  The snow was up to their knees now and they had to help each other struggle along. Only Thor seemed to find it easy going; he insisted on carrying Mum’s bag. As they turned into Rivermill Gardens, they saw a coloured pattern sparkling up ahead, like a network of tiny stars.

  “Oh look!” Mum exclaimed. “They’ve put up Christmas lights!”

  “That’s just like my mum,” said Susie with a grin.

  The Spinetti house was decked in brilliant lights of red, green, yellow and blue and the windows were framed with tinsel. It was a big house and the Spinettis had added some extensions, including a storeroom filled with sporting goods for their business.

  Susie pushed open the door and whipped off her fur hat as she stepped inside. “Mum! Dad! It’s me! I’ve got the McBrides with me!”

  Two boys of five and six came hopping down the stairs and rushed at them waving plastic swords. “Invaders!” they cried.

  “Clear off, you two!” laughed Susie, blocking their swords with her hockey stick.

  After a brief tussle the boys retreated back up the stairs and stood there brandishing their swords menacingly. From the other end of the hall Mrs Spinetti came bustling out of the kitchen in a brightly coloured apron decorated with reindeer. She was a round, rosy-faced woman whose black curls tumbled over her shoulders.

  “Adele!” she exclaimed, smiling at Mrs McBride. “I wasn’t expecting to see you. I wasn’t expecting to see anybody in this weather.”

  “Our electricity broke down,” Mum explained.

  “I said they could come here till it was fixed,” said Susie.

  “Of course they can,” said Mrs Spinetti. “And who’s this fine figure of a man?”

  “Which one of us do you mean?” Dad joked.

  “The chap with the muscles, of course,” said Mrs Spinetti.

  “This is Sven,” said Dad. “He’s an engineer.”

  “Come to fix your boiler, has he?” said Mrs Spinetti.

  “That’s right,” said Thor, “but the parts can’t be got with this weather.”

  “He’s a Viking raider!” one of the boys shouted over the bannister, pointing his sword at Thor.

  “Michael, you and Charlie put those swords away and go fetch a board game,” their mother ordered them. “Susie, can you dig out some Christmas music?”

  “On it, Mum,” said Susie, stripping off her coat and chasing her brothers upstairs. “Are there any stovies left?” she shouted down.

  “I’ll see what I can scrape off the bottom of the pot,” her mother called back. “Come and have a cherry brandy, Adele. There’s hot blackcurrant cordial for the boys.”

  “It looks like you’ve decorated the whole house,” said Mum, looking at the tinsel and lights that were draped over the mirror and the family photographs.

  “Well, if you can’t stop the snow, you might as well enjoy it,” said Mrs Spinetti. “Besides, I’ll let you in on a secret. We keep a wee Christmas tree in our bedroom all year round. I like to see the lights twinkle.”

  She took Mr McBride by the arm and directed him to the back of the house. “Come along, Alan,” she said. “George is in the laundry room tending to his home brewed beer. It will make his day if you sample a glass.”

  “Oh, I think I could put myself out that far for a friend,” said Dad.

  Lewis, Greg and Thor were soon settled around a table in the music room where Mr Spinetti kept his guitars and banjo. They had cups of hot blackcurrant and a plate heaped with slices of Mrs Spinetti’s home-baked gingerbread.

  Mum ducked her head in and said, “If you lot are happy here, Theresa and I are popping out for a bit.”

  “Popping out?” said Lewis. “In this blizzard?”

  “What are you going to do?” asked Greg. “Hunt caribou?”

  Mrs Spinetti appeared behind Mum. “There’s a lot of old folks in this neigh
bourhood,” she said. “We’re going to take them some cake and make sure they’re all right.”

  When they were gone Greg and Lewis looked at each other. “Well, if Mum and Mrs Spinetti are out helping people,” said Greg, “I suppose we need to do our bit to save the world.”

  Lewis nodded and turned to Thor. “All right, Sven, you say Loki is here to collect the Treasures of Asgard. You’d better let us know what we’re up against.”

  “We know about your hammer and Loki’s box,” said Greg. “What else is there?”

  “Well, let’s see,” said Thor, pondering. “There’s the Falcon Cloak, the Iron Gauntlets, the Spear Gungnir, the Sword Hofud, the Shoes of Vidar, the Bone of Ullr, the Gjallahorn, the Yggdrasil Seed, the Golden Apples, the Ring Draupnir, the Shield Svalin…”

  “Okay, okay,” Greg cut in, “we get the picture. There’s a lot of stuff out there.”

  “And if Loki gets his hands on it all, he might be unstoppable,” said Lewis.

  “So we’ve got to get to them first,” said Greg.

  “That’s right,” Thor agreed. “I can track them with Mjolnir, but it will take time.”

  “Plus we have to find a way to get through the snow,” Lewis pointed out. “It must be waist-high by now.”

  “I can help with that,” said Susie. She was standing in the doorway munching on a packet of cheese and onion crisps.

  “Spinny, we appreciate the hospitality,” said Greg, “but unless you’ve got a snowmobile, you’d better leave the hard work to us.”

  Susie polished off the last crisp and crushed the empty packet in her hand. “Excuse me, but who was it that saved the two of you from that ice monster this morning?” she demanded. “If not for me, he’d have whisked you off through space and buried you in a mine on Japetus.”

  “Ja-what?” said Greg.

  “Japetus,” said Lewis. “It’s one of the moons of Saturn.”

  “Thanks, Lewis,” said Greg, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “That’s a really useful piece of information.”

  “Besides,” said Susie, bouncing the crumpled packet off Greg’s nose, “with all your airy fairy ideas, you need somebody with a good head on her shoulders.”