Thor dashed into the dining hall on the heels of its close for the evening. At the sole occupied table sat his three friends, nibbling at second desserts, patiently awaiting his arrival. With a speed of selection, he filled his platter with food that fit his fancy, then eased into a chair alongside them. What he planned to say about his prior meeting at the Museum was not uttered, obliterated by the conversation at hand he considered off-kilter. Why do they talk about dreaming together?
You're asking me? piped up Zodie, warming his heart.
Astutely attuned to subtle changes in behavior, Thor detected, Something's up.
Agreed, buzzed Zodie, who stilled in deference to Thor's sleuthing. Daring ideas had never been nonchalantly aired, as were these presently proposed by his pals with apparent abandon. What happened to the healthy respect for risk in powers they'd previously expressed? Why was caution thrown overboard? Thor's vigilance was at work nonstop from within; the seeds of a siege could always begin, manifested in multifarious forms, masquerading in scenes misleading as norms. Could this be a setup? If so, at whose behest? What entity was using his mates to get to him? Why did his wrists itch?
Thor casually rolled up his sleeves to ease the irritation. He had not meant to draw attention to the bare area revealed, the pale skin that had survived the rigors of the red stigmata, symbolic of his torture at the hands of the State. Yet the reaction of his pals was profound. He was acutely aware of their altered expressions, invoked by shared remembrance of the telltale marks scarring his extremities as he had lain unconscious in the hospital. Resisting the temptation to scratch his wrists, he flexed them instead.
"You're all onboard with this scheme to dream together?" posed Thor pointedly, to hijack their focus back to his face.
"Speculating, Thor, nothing more." Ruslan was reverent in tone, still eyeing his friend's exposed wrists.
Kindness incarnate, Thor considered, "You're curious about flying, like that dream with your family?"
Ruslan flushed, his emotion rising as he faced Thor fully. "We were exploring options; that was one."
"We were wondering if it could be done," added Dov, sipping his hydrate.
"It can." The boys discerned Thor's deliberate selection of can over could. Without dilution of toying or teasing was this forthright testament to his fortitude. That confirmation lit the fire of his friends. Interspersed between language was laughter, as they debated this novel notion. Thor turned to Kyle, pensively listening from the sidelines. "What about you?"
"Flying might be fun, even if only a dream…" Kyle paused to glance at Dov and Ruslan.
"Yes," chimed the cheerful duo.
Reluctance weighted Kyle's continuing solo, fidgeting with his fork before locking eyes with Thor. "…But could we rock the boat with unintended consequences?"
Thor suppressed a smile. Was Kyle's reticence a reflection of Thor's healing him? Did he possess an ability to grant people immunity from outside influence?
"What unintended consequences?" Ruslan was astonished by the premised possibility.
"Dreams aren't real, right?" asked Dov. "Or are we missing something?"
Lancing a vegetable, Thor held it mid-air as he expounded, "Group dreams aren't normal. Why assume there's no risk?" He spied the confusion shading their features, calmly eating while they reacted.
Ruslan took the lead. "Are you saying group dreams are dangerous?"
"I'm saying this is unchartered territory."
Dov pondered. "So are the ads. What's the difference? You think one is necessary and the other is frivolous?"
"I think both are healthy for the soul." Thor gestured with his fork, "Who spearheaded this idea?"
The inquiry was not in the form of an accusation, but grew out of the organic compost natured in the conversation. Nevertheless, the puzzled boys rotated from risible to riveted on Thor. Where was he going with this line of questioning?
"Why quiet at the query?" Thor pursued. "Is it difficult to determine?"
"It wasn't me," stated Kyle.
"Nor me," said Dov, his posture switched from slack to taut.
Ruslan's eyes narrowed. "Don't look at me."
Thor's tenor was gentle, but his globes gleamed. "Where were you when this subject started?"
The boys searched their memory.
Dov was the first to reply. "Waiting for you here."
Kyle shook his head. "Not exactly. We were on the way here." He darted to Ruslan, "You tripped on your shoelace."
Ruslan slowly combed his fingers through his hair, his eyes still furrowed, centered on Thor, his deep breaths audible as he hopped onto Kyle's wavelength. "In the hallway, I stopped to tie my shoe…" He halted, recalling every detail vivid in his mind. "The ads," he murmured, his breath quickening. "We were close to the ads."
Dov's eyes grew wide, reciting in a singsong, "Do you dream of a better world?"
Kyle piggybacked. "Let's dream together."
Dov spouted, "In every kind of weather."
Ruslan completed the jingle of the ad. "We'll ride on a cloud that's lighter than a feather."
Thor was radiant. "Very catchy, like a Venus flytrap."
The bombardment of questions began.
Kyle raced to beat the others. "You suspect the ads, don't you?"
Ruslan galloped right behind. "Nothing happens in a vacuum. Isn't that what you said?"
Thor sat taciturn, once again flexing his wrists in a veil of silence. What was he not telling them?
Dov tendered a disarming touch to tackle the topic, delivered in a masterclass move. "You have a sense of the hex of things. I admire that."
Thor was mute for a mere moment before shrugging, "I suffer for that sense, but you already know that."
Their gaze converged on his wrists with a collective wince. No one spoke for a while. The lights had dimmed in the dining hall; the staff had left, signaling the quartet to time their own departure.
Dov voiced in a whisper. "What about the risk?"
Thor studied their dancing auras, cloaked in vibrant blues and violets, then pushed back his chair and rose, announcing in cryptic tones. "To the garden."
The boys jumped to their feet and followed him to the grassy grounds outside the Institute. As they passed the fountain, Thor stopped to dip his wrists into the cascading water, splashing the coolness which dripped down his face, his pose reminiscent of an ancient time and ethereal place. In the midst of his ritual, he scanned the area to ensure no one else was there, except for the owls hooting their presence.
Befitting the forthcoming enterprise, the quartet huddled in a copse under the canopy of the starry night. Dressed in sequined drops that dared, lit by a mischievous moon that glared, Thor's alabaster skin sparkled, his eyes imbued by the lunar luster, his syllables hushed in skirts of solemnity. "I can nullify the risk, if you're all game to go on this adventure."
Perplexity gained a grip on Ruslan, who addressed the choice of Thor's words. "Adventure or dream?"
Skeptical from the outset, Kyle smirked, sensitive to the shift in Ruslan's timbre. "First, you're hot to trot, now a quick nitpick maneuver. What happened to the eager beaver?"
"Adventures are real; dreams are fantasy."
Clapping his hands, Kyle was smug. "You're getting cold feet."
Ruslan was annoyed. "I'm getting facts. Why make it more than that?"
Kyle retorted in a flood of vindication to his initial reservation of the joint venture. "Getting facts and getting cold feet, both are at play; I'd bet on that."
Dov rushed to Ruslan's defense, countering Kyle's claim. "It's not cold feet when you deliberate the consequences of an action. I'd call it prudent. Getting facts is salient to making an informed decision." He pivoted to Thor. "So what will this be, an adventure or a dream?"
"I consider my dreams to be adventures, some predictable, some not. Some I control; some I don't. We are experimenting after all, aren't we?"
Ruslan turned thoughtful. He realized he hadn't deliberated the nuances of the group dream, which wasn't straightforward as he'd imagined. "Experimentation with fantasy is one thing; experimentation with reality is another."
Thor was sober in consensus. "Yes, it is."
Wind gusted through the trees, causing loose leaves to swirl in the breeze upon their descent to the earth. The hooting of the owls ceased. Thor looked up at the stars. When he returned to the terrain, his orbs were soothing, his voice hypnotic. "I repeat, I can nullify the risk. What more do you want me to guarantee?" He paused, regarding each youth before resuming. "The question is if you trust me."
Watching Thor roll his sleeves down over his wrists, Ruslan mused, "We're back to faith."
Feeling Zodie warm his flesh, Thor's eyes blazed, a resolute expression burnishing his countenance. "We never left."
"Then that settles it," declared Kyle, sealing their pact to set sail on the imminent ship. "When do we embark?"
Thor stretched out on the grass, elbows bent, hands cupping his head, the pendant nestled near his heart. "Beautiful the stars, aren't they? Join me." Talk to combat the ads was moved to a future plate; the menu at present offered instead the occasion for mates to consolidate.
An adrenaline rush jolted the boys, pounding hearts in surprise at the improvised event, no doubt in their minds what Thor meant. They expected to plot and plan at ease, not to proceed at lightning speed. A chorus of queries commenced.
"Now?"
"Here?"
"Just like that?"
Thor responded, "Why not?" The straight shooter strived for times like these, where habit was erased, by adventure replaced in surrender serene to supernal spheres of celestial grace. No sign of trouble slipped to the surface of his pacific ocean; wrist itching had ceased. With nothing to conceal, he was truly at peace to helm their comradeship into terra he termed as unchartered.
Kyle reclined, followed by the others in a formation resembling the spokes of a wheel, heads at the hub, faces aiming upward, feet radiating outward, but minds not ready to rest. Excitement ensued in a bout of giggling amidst the poking and disruptive tickling, impeding their passage to sleep.
Thor smiled, taking charge, signaling the birds to serenade them to slumber. Crows cawed in overhead circles. Pigeons cooed from branches in trees accompanied by the buzzing of bees. Nearby thrushes chirped on the ground. Warblers perched even more loud. All singers performed in harmonic sound. Clever were the crooners with intoxicating chants, corralling human senses which didn't stand a chance. Eyelids fluttered, then shuttered to the fliers shepherding them in choral consonance. The final incantation was the hooting of owls, as the mates made the faith-driven leap to a deep-dive communal sleep.