The Hound of Rowan by Henry H. Neff Page B

looked just as frightened and confused as Max felt. The man took another step toward the group, his face turning crimson.
    Just then, the door swung open and Nigel’s head popped in.
    â€œHurry up, boys. Ms. Richter’s already in the orientation—Jimmy! How are you? Long time.”
    The little man rolled his eyes.
    â€œOh, you had to come just now and spoil my fun! I was going to get these tadpoles to mop this place for a month!”
    Nigel chuckled and walked into the bathroom. Taking a silver dollar from his pocket, he went to the last sink, lifted the lid off a fat porcelain Buddha, and dropped the coin inside.
    â€œSorry, Jimmy. Next time, I’ll leave them to you.”
    â€œOh, it’s all right. Need to get hopping anyway if we’re gonna spiff ’em up for the morning session. You want a little zing of the good stuff, Nigel?”
    Nigel smiled politely.
    â€œNo, Jimmy. No, thank you. I’ll, eh, tell the Director the boys are…just making your acquaintance.” Nigel paused before adding, “Boys, be sure to bring Jimmy a present later. Remember—it’s the
thought
that counts!”
    â€œOkay, then! See you later!” Jimmy called out. He was already bustling about, gathering armfuls of spray bottles and jars that he laid out on a folding table. Turning to the boys, he clapped his hands.
    â€œRight, then, who are gonna be the lucky lads to get spruced up, Jimmy-fashion?” the little man inquired. “I can’t get to you all, so who’s it gonna be?”
    â€œEr…I don’t understand,” said Rolf, sniffing at his armpit. “We just showered.”
    Jimmy looked at Rolf as though he must be daft.
    â€œIt’s your first full day, isn’t it?”
    The boys nodded.
    â€œAnd there’re some lookers among the ladies, aren’t there?”
    The boys looked at one another and shrugged.
    â€œWell, then, a shower’s just a start! You need the old Jimmy treatment to make ’em sit up and take notice! Quick! You six into a chair.”
    Jimmy snapped his fingers, and six wicker chairs zoomed across the room and arranged themselves in a row.
    â€œUgh, I knew we’d be the lucky ones,” moaned Connor as Jimmy showed Max to his seat. Those without a chair before them made a hasty retreat out the door.
    Max squirmed while Jimmy went to work, running up and down the line and slathering their hair, cheeks, and necks with a variety of gels and sprays. Frowning with concentration, he produced a comb and parted each boy’s hair carefully down the middle. The boys watched themselves in the mirror, sitting in silent horror as Jimmy clapped in sudden satisfaction.
    â€œWell, boys! Now you’re looking dandy. Good material to work with, of course, but now you’ve got the special Jimmy touch!”
    He whistled merrily and rearranged his bottles as the six boys filed out, looking glum.
    Max ran to his room and dressed quickly, rejoining the others in the hallway as Old Tom’s chimes started ringing. They sprinted down the stairs and skidded to a halt in the little theater. All of their other classmates were already seated. Several girls giggled as they saw the boys’ old-fashioned hairdos. Even Ms. Richter, leaning against a piano, had an amused expression on her face as she casually reached for a handkerchief.
    â€œBe seated, gentlemen. As I was telling your classmates, today is a very important day. You will be visiting the Sanctuary for the first time. There you will be paired with a good friend for the next six years. Perhaps even longer.”
    Ms. Richter frowned and waved the handkerchief before her face. A group of girls giggled as they whispered to one another. Pinching their noses, Cynthia and Lucia moved several seats farther away while David coughed into his hand and blinked at the boys. Avoiding his classmates’ stares, Max reached up and patted the shellacked mass on his head. He