Page 36 of Jack of All Trades

“As shocking as that might be to most, I doubt they’ll care. They are the most uncaring people I’ve had the misfortune to know. But, enough of this. Today, we celebrate our reunion.”

Rodney was every bit a Hilderbrand. Handsome, dark-haired, his eyes blue as the sky and skin so perfect, he looked more like a doll than a real man. He was tall, like Maltin, but thinner and kept himself that way for nothing more than his love of fine fashion.

Rodney turned to the warehouse. “Why am I here?”

“This is my home, Rodney.”

Rodney turned to him quickly, grabbing his shoulders and shaking once. “Why didn’t you tell me you were destitute?”

“Because I’m not. I store my cars here, and I have a loft upstairs.”

“Heaven’s no! A loft? Where do your servants sleep? How can you live like this?”

Once Rodney went to the door and threw it open to inspect the place himself, Maltin whispered to Jack, “And he saysyourfamily is snobbish.”

“Good thing it’s not raining, I guess,” Jack whispered back with a laugh.

They entered the warehouse to see Rodney change into white silk overalls and a shining purple shirt. What was more shocking, however, was that the Corvette and Mini Cooper were completely restored.

Maltin rushed over to them, running a hand over the hood of the Corvette. “Rodney! You fixed it!”

“How you left it that way is shocking. You know better. How did it happen?”

Maltin felt his blush as a blast furnace on his face, and Rodney got it immediately.

“Oh, I see, you old dog.”

“He called you a dog,” Jack said, giggling.

“Jack, he doesn’t know.”

Jack’s smile faded as Rodney looked from one to the other. “Your mother said you were hounds. Is that not a dog? Canines, descendants of wolves?”

After Jack pointed to the loft, he said, “I’ll go fix us some…drinks while you two talk.”

As soon as he was up the stairs, Maltin faced his uncle. Swallowing the sudden lump his throat had developed. “Uh, Rodney, uh, we are hounds, but not the sweet, puppy kind.”

“Lord and Lady, what the hell, Malty?”

Looking everywhere but in his uncle’s eyes, Maltin whispered, “Hellhounds.”

Craning his neck, Rodney asked, “Excuse me? What was that?”

“Hellhounds, Rodney, okay?”

Taking a step backward, Rodney simply stared at him.

“Say something!”

“Well, at least you weren’t a mouse or some rodent, I suppose. A hellhound? I thought those were myths.”

“No, not myths. In fact, we’ve got a book in the car that will tell us something about ourselves.”

Rodney nodded once and then waved to the stairs. “I think I’ll need that drink your…yourmateoffered.”

“Don’t start, Rodney,” he said as they walked to the stairs. “Mother is bad enough.”

“She’s had a shock, Malty. She loves you very much and was hoping, I think, that you’d find a nice witch.”

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