Thor Is Locked in My Garage!

by Robert J. Harris

  The gods of Asgard arrived on the roof of the gatehouse and strode down the steps in a stately procession. There was a glorious vigour about them, as if they had woken from a long sleep into the sunshine of a better day.

  Lewis didn’t need a magic ring to tell him who they were. He recognised them from the Norse legends he had been reading ever since their first encounter with Loki.

  At the head of the procession was a tall, white-bearded man with a patch over one eye and a pair of ravens sitting on his shoulders. This was Odin, the king of the gods. Beside him walked his queen, Frigga, with her silver hair and crown of gold.

  Close behind them was Thor and the one-handed god Tyr, clutching a flashing sword. Clothed in white with a face that shone like the sun was Balder. Freya, the goddess of love, came next, wearing a green robe entwined with ivy and bluebells.

  Lewis estimated that there had to be at least a hundred of them. Many of them stayed on the roof to observe as Odin advanced on the god of mischief and magic.

  Loki seemed to shrink before them. He took a fearful step back and forced a weak grin.

  “Guys,” he said brightly, “good to see you. Look, I’ve smartened the place up for you.” He made an expansive gesture at the city. “It’ll be like you’ve never been gone. Tell you what, the drinks are on me.”

  “Silence, Loki!” Odin commanded in a voice like the crash of a waterfall. He waved his hand and Loki was enveloped in swirling bands of golden light that bound his arms to his sides. More bands of light encircled his legs and he fell to the ground, muttering curses.

  “I will brook no more of your foul utterances,” said Odin, and wound a shining gag around Loki’s mouth.

  “It’s about time somebody shut him up,” Greg commented under his breath.

  The king of the gods looked out over the city and nodded slowly. “It is good to be back in the realm eternal,” he said. “And it is thanks to these children.” He bent a friendly gaze on Greg, Lewis and Susie.

  “It’s the Bifrost, isn’t it,” said Lewis. “Once Asgard was linked to Earth again, you all got your god powers back.”

  “That’s right, Lewis,” said Thor. “And the treasures returned to their rightful owners.” He gave Mjolnir a contented pat.

  “That all happened pretty fast,” said Greg.

  “Down in your earthly lands of Midgard time passes more swiftly than it does here in Asgard,” Odin explained. “Here time can flow in any direction I choose.”

  “Sure, it’s some kind of a space–time warp, isn’t it?” said Susie.

  “We just call it magic,” said Thor with a shrug.

  “My son Thor spoke truly of you children,” Odin declared approvingly. “You are indeed worthy to be warriors of Asgard, Lewis the Wise, Greg the Bold and Susie the Brave. You shall join us in a feast to celebrate your courage and your victory.”

  “If it’s all the same to you,” said Susie, “can we go home now? I’ve got a week booked at hockey camp. And my folks will be worried about me.”

  “Ours too,” said Lewis.

  Odin smiled. “I already told you, Lewis, that I can bend time itself to my will. I will return you to Earth before your kinsfolk even know you are gone.”

  “What about this guy?” asked Greg, jerking a thumb at Loki who was wriggling helplessly on the ground.

  “I have a place of exile waiting for him,” said Odin, “beyond the bounds of space and time. He will not trouble your world again.”

  Susie stood over the fallen god of magic and beamed a smile of victory. “You see,” she said, “I warned you. This is what you get for calling me toots!”

  18. Who is Larry O’Keefe?

  The journey back to Earth along the Bifrost took only a few seconds. Heimdall, the guardian of the rainbow bridge, adjusted the controls and waved them forward.

  The moment Greg, Lewis and Susie set foot upon the arc of light, they found themselves hurtling forward with stars, planets and glowing clouds whooshing past them. It all melted into a blur then there they were, standing on the summit of Hallowhill.

  “Phew, that was some trip!” Greg exclaimed.

  “Hyperspace,” said Susie, trying to sound casual. “It’s the only way to travel.”

  Lewis shook off his dizziness and gazed about him. The hilltop looked perfectly normal, as if a cosmic tree had never taken root there. A short way off, a lady was throwing a stick for her spaniel to chase, while down below the Kinnessburn was rushing by, still swollen with the melted snow from Loki’s supernatural winter.

  “I don’t know if it’s the trip or all that roast boar,” said Lewis, rubbing his tummy, “but I don’t feel so good.”

  “That was the mead,” Greg laughed. “It’s like beer. I warned you not to drink so much of it.”

  “Oh, it was dead tasty,” said Susie, smacking her lips. “And what about these?” She raised her right hand to admire the gold ring on her finger, which was decorated with a lightning bolt. They all had one, a gift from Odin.

  “These rings are a mark of the favour of Asgard,” the king of the gods had told them, “an honour bestowed upon only a few.”

  “What do you think they do?” Susie wondered, tilting her hand so that the gold gleamed in the bright morning sunshine.

  “Let’s not find out,” Lewis advised. “The safest thing would be to lock them in a lead box and bury them in a really deep hole.”

  “What are you so scared of, Lewis?” Greg scoffed. “I bet they do something really cool.”

  “Haven’t you had enough of Asgardian magic?” said Lewis. “We’re lucky to be alive as it is.”

  Susie rubbed her ring with a fingertip. “Well, it’s not doing anything so far.”

  “Stop messing about with it,” Lewis pleaded. “You might start a thunderstorm or something worse.”

  “Come on,” said Greg. “We’d better get back to the house and see what’s happening.”

  They headed down the hill and strolled along Rivermill Gardens to the Spinetti house. As they approached the front door Mr McBride came out with his pipe in his hand. “Oh there you are,” he said. “We wondered what had happened to you three.”

  “We nipped out for an early stroll,” said Susie. “You know, seeing as how the weather’s turned out so nice.”

  “You haven’t seen Sven, have you?” Dad asked, stuffing some tobacco into the bowl of his pipe. “He dashed off shouting something about a beef roast. It looked like his leg had healed up overnight.”

  “We passed him on the way back,” said Lewis.

  “He had to get back to SAPS HQ and report to his boss, the king of Scandivaria,” said Greg.

  “Can we go home now, Dad?” Lewis yawned. “I think I’m needing my bed.”

  “Really?” said his dad. “But you only just got up?”

  “We’ve packed a lot in,” said Greg.

  Dad lit his pipe and took a puff. “Well, I got that handyman McGregor on the phone. He says he’ll have our house fixed up in a jiffy, so you might as well pack up your stuff.”

  At that moment Garth Makepeace swept out of the door with a phone pressed to his right ear. He had a mug of coffee in his other hand and slurped on it as he talked. “That’s right,” he was saying, “make sure everybody’s there, Steve, George, Jerry, the whole gang. They’ll all want to be in on it.”

  He flicked off the call, dropped the phone in his pocket, and took a last swig of coffee. “Thanks for everything, Al,” he said, handing Mr McBride the empty mug. “It’s been a ball.”

  “Is this you going, Garth?” asked Susie. She couldn’t hide her disappointment.

  “Got to fly,” said Makepeace. “I’m going to turn all this crazy stuff we went through into the greatest movie ever. Get this title,” he enthused. “Iceblast: Battle For The Frozen Earth. Cool, huh? We set it in New York and I play Jack Breaker, an Arctic survival expert. I fight my way through the snow to rescue my gorgeous girlfriend who’s being held prisoner in the Empire State Building, which has be
en turned into a giant icicle.”

  “Sounds pretty good,” said Greg.

  “Good?” said Makepeace. “It’ll be a monster! But only if I can catch my plane on time to sign the deal.”

  As he spoke a taxi pulled up and the driver got out looking astonished. “You really are him!” he gasped. “Him!”

  “Did you think it was a prank call?” said Makepeace. “There’s an extra hundred in it for you if you get me to the airport by noon. Oh, and pull in at an ATM on the way.”

  “A what?”

  “A cash machine,” Lewis translated.

  “Of course,” said the driver, opening the back door of the cab. “Of course, Mr… Mr…” He gave everybody a wide-eyed look. “It’s HIM!”

  “You kids stay in touch,” said Makepeace, slipping into the taxi. “I’ll fly you over for the movie premiere.” He whipped out his phone and clamped it to his ear as the driver got into the front seat.

  As the taxi pulled away everybody waved and Greg called out, “Make sure you do your own stunts!”

  “I bet he’ll want me to be in that film,” said Mr McBride with a chuckle. “You know, a wee cameo role.”

  “I wonder who’ll play Larry O’Keefe,” said Lewis.

  Mum appeared in the doorway. “Who exactly is this Larry O’Keefe I keep hearing you talk about?” she asked.

  “Nobody, Mum,” said Lewis.

  “Yeah, you can forget all about him, Mrs Mac,” said Susie. “He got what was coming to him.”

  As they filed inside Mum noticed their rings. “They’re impressive pieces of jewellery,” she said. “Where did they come from?”

  “Sven gave them to us,” said Susie, showing off her ring.

  “To thank us for helping with his investigation,” Lewis added.

  “It means we’re honorary SAPS,” said Greg. “Cool, eh?”

  “Have you had any breakfast yet?” Mum asked. “There’s bacon and eggs in the kitchen.”

  “I couldn’t eat a thing,” Lewis groaned.

  “Me neither,” said Susie. “Well, maybe a slice of toast, if there’s any going.”

  “I think we can manage that,” said Mum, heading for the kitchen. Susie followed her while Greg and Lewis went to their room and bundled up their pyjamas and sleeping bags.

  As they headed out the front door Susie was waiting there, munching on a piece of buttered toast.

  “Of course the great thing about gods,” she said, twiddling her ring, “is that they have really good manners. They always thank people who’ve helped them.”

  “Yes, yes,” said Lewis. “Thanks. We’re really grateful to you for everything. Really.”

  Susie munched down the last of her toast and directed a hard stare at Greg. “Greg, I’m off to hockey camp for a week,” she said. “Isn’t there anything you want to say to me before I go?”

  “Well, right, Susie, it’s like Lewis said,” Greg agreed, shuffling his feet. “I mean, we couldn’t have done it without you, you know. So thanks.”

  “There’s no need to be so shy, Greg,” said Susie firmly. “You can kiss me if you want to.”

  “Kiss you!” Greg was appalled.

  As he stood there, aghast, Susie swooped in and planted a buttery kiss right on his lips.

  “There,” she said, drawing back with a grin. “That’s that done at last.”

  Greg’s face turned bright red and he wiped a hand across his mouth. “Spinny, I’ve told you already, I am not your boyfriend.”

  Susie laughed and punched him painfully on the arm.

  Greg was still rubbing the bruise as he and Lewis walked down Bannock Street towards home.

  “Of course, the worst thing about this is that we can’t tell anybody,” he said. “Nobody will know what happened.”

  “Probably just as well,” said Lewis. “I don’t even want to think about how close Loki came to blowing up the whole world.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” said Greg. “If he shows up again, remember I still have my secret weapon.”

  “What’s that?” asked Lewis with a frown.

  Greg flashed him a grin. “Awesomeness.”

  Lewis laughed in spite of himself and followed him into the house.

  For even more hilarious Norse god hijinks, read on for a sneak peak of The Day the World Went Loki, when Lewis and Greg meet Loki for the first time…

  1. BAD LUCK AND WORSE LUCK

  Neither of the boys strolling home from Madras High School in St Andrews had any idea that this was just about the last normal day of their lives. Greg McBride had something else on his mind.

  “A maths test tomorrow!” he exploded. “How’s that for bad luck?” He swung an angry fist through the empty air. “But then bad luck is all I ever get.”

  His younger brother Lewis made an absent-minded humming noise as he braced himself for more complaints. It was a long walk down Lamond Drive, but it seemed twice as long when Greg was on one of his rants.

  “Some folk get hit singles, star in films, run big companies, but not me. Oh no, I never get that kind of luck.”

  “It’s not luck,” Lewis murmured.

  “Huh?” Greg grunted. He hadn’t expected Lewis to say anything. He usually didn’t until his older brother had quite finished. “What are you mumbling about?”

  “Maybe it’s not just luck,” Lewis said. He wished heartily that he hadn’t opened his mouth, but now he had no choice but to tough it out. “Maybe they’re successful because they work hard.”

  Greg shook his head. “If all it took was hard work, then everybody who worked hard would be rich. But they’re not, are they?”

  “I suppose not.”

  “You suppose not,” Greg echoed mockingly. “That’s your trouble, Lewis. You don’t think things through. I mean, what chance have I got living here? St Andrews isn’t exactly the centre of the universe, is it? It’s not even the centre of Fife.”

  A large shadow passed over them as their enormous friend Arthur “the Chiz” Chisholm came loping by. “Guys,” he rumbled by way of greeting.

  The Chiz had pulled on his favourite red beanie with one hand so that it lay squint across the crown of his head like a UFO that had crash landed on a mountain peak.

  “Hi, Chiz,” the brothers responded as their friend’s long strides carried him swiftly past them.

  “Hey, Chiz, do you want to kick a ball around?” Greg called after him.

  Kicking a ball around with the Chiz mostly involved searching for the ball after he’d booted it thirty metres through the air in the wrong direction. Still, it was better than studying for a test.

  Chiz glanced back over his shoulder. “Home… work… test tomorrow,” he answered. Every word sounded like an echo in a coal mine.

  He loped off and left Greg grimacing. “Even Chiz’ll probably pass,” he said. “You’d think they’d hang a big sign up to remind you a test is coming. I mean, what is the point of mentioning it weeks ago, in the middle of class when nobody’s paying any attention, then never talking about it again until the day before? How is anybody supposed to remember something like that?”

  There was a merciful thirty seconds of silence as they held their noses while passing Canny Dan’s Snack Van. As soon as they were clear of the stench of grease, pickled onion and charred black pudding, Greg resumed.

  “I’ll bet Mrs Witherspoon kept this test a secret just to trip me up. She’s always had it in for me.”

  “You mean because you never do any work.”

  “No, it’s something more personal than that. She’d hang me up and use me for target practice if she thought she’d get away with it.”

  “You could still get a good four or five hours of studying in tonight,” Lewis pointed out. “That might be enough.”

  “Is that right?” Greg answered with undisguised sarcasm. “You think it’s that easy to study, like you can just sit down and do it? Have you learned nothing? You have to plan it in advance, draw up a timetable, or you might as well not bot
her.”

  “So you’re not going to bother?”

  “I didn’t say that, I was just making a point. For your benefit, I might add.”

  At the corner of Largo Road he pulled up short as Lindsay Jensen popped up in front of him, as though out of thin air.

  “Hi, Greg!” she beamed, like she hadn’t seen him in years.

  Her corn-coloured hair was tied in a ponytail with a pink ribbon. Behind her gold-rimmed glasses her eyes shone like sapphires, at least that’s how they looked to Lewis.

  “Oh hi, Lindsay,” Greg responded distractedly. He was peering around from side to side, trying to figure out where she could have sprung from. She had an unsettling knack for ambushes.

  Lewis cleared his throat. “Hello, Lindsay. That’s a really pretty necklace you’re wearing.” He sighed when he realised that she hadn’t even heard him. She was too busy watching Greg scratch his head.

  “I hear your dad’s gone away on a trip,” Lindsay said.

  “He’s in Wales,” said Greg, not meeting her gaze.

  “Building a golf course,” Lewis added, unnoticed.

  Lindsay was in Lewis’ class at school, but she only had eyes for his brother. Greg was a year older, taller, thought himself much better looking, and was definitely a lot louder.

  “Greg, do you fancy going to that new 3D film tonight?” Lindsay asked breathlessly. “You know, the one about the dancing robots and the polar bear. It looks magic.”

  “I’ve got a big test tomorrow,” Greg muttered, trying to manoeuvre around her. Lindsay moved expertly to block him.

  “I could help you study, Greg,” she offered sweetly.

  “Lewis is helping me,” Greg told her flatly. He grabbed Lewis by the arm and accelerated past her, dragging his brother behind him. Once they were across the street he asked out of the side of his mouth, “Is she gone?”

  “Yes, she’s gone,” Lewis admitted glumly. “She’s headed off into town with some of her pals.”