#10: Serious Sibling.

Although he could arguably be seen as the slacker of the family, Jake was still a veritable wizard in the kitchen. Naturally, he cooked and Nickelby acted as waiter, while Drake kept Lola and her parents entertained with a concerto or two on his violin (Stradivarius of course!) before Jake served up the entrée: Grilled Marinated Shrimp on a bed of steamed rice and caramelized artichoke, followed by roasted grouper with prosciutto and herbs.

After the main, Jake asked his brother to lend a hand. Although puzzled, Drake agreed and followed him into the kitchen, leaving Nickelby to amuse the guests with his numerous bird impressions.

“Why don’t you get Nickelby to help you?” Drake asked. “I barely know Foie Gras from Steak Tartar, let alone be able cook them.”

This wasn’t strictly true; Drake had a reasonably diverse pallet, yet compared to his brother, he was more akin to a troglodyte.

“Any other time, I’d be glad of your help, but tonight is WAY too special for taking risks, so touching anything in here is a no-no,” explained Jake, grating white chocolate for his gananche , pausing only to deftly rap the knuckles of the inquisitive hand reaching for the saucepan cooling on the bench with a wooden spoon.

“I wanted to talk with you privately. I have a huge favour to ask of you.”
“I’m listening.”

Jake tossed a handful of chopped cinnamon over his shoulder, which rebounded off a hanging pan and landed in a boiling pot on the stove.

“These last couple of weeks, a local gang known as the Marauders have been stirring up trouble on the block. They’ve even threatened to trash the Oyster if I don’t start coughing up protection money as of tonight.”

“What do the police have to say about it?” asked Drake.

“They don’t really care. As far as they’re concerned, the Marauders are just a bunch of punk kids looking for kicks.”

Drake frowned. If that was the attitude of the local law enforcers, he’d have to have a word to the chief of police.

“I wouldn’t mind so much,” continued Jake. “I mean, it’s just money, ya’ know? But I got responsibilities now. What if we have kids?”

“So, am I to presume that you’d like me to…dissuade them?”

“Yes please. I’d take care of it myself, but I promised Lola that I wouldn’t fight anymore. She gets worried.”

Drake suddenly motioned for silence. He thought that he’d heard a trash can being knocked over outside in the alleyway.
“They’re here,” he whispered. “Nickelby and I will take care of them. You should shut all the blinds, turn the lights down, play some Bach and proceed as planned.”

“What about my proposal man?”
“You’re a Mandible. You’ll be just fine,” Drake assured him with a lopsided grin. “Hopefully I’ll be back by then.”

He turned to leave, but his brother stopped him.

“One more thing, these guys aren’t any tougher than anyone we’ve stopped in the past, but there are a lot of them. Be careful.”
Drake nodded and walked back into the dining area.

Starting from “Albatross,” Nickelby had only gotten to “Ivory-Beaked Woodpecker” on his list of bird impressions, when his employer emerged from the kitchen and told him that they had to run a quick errand for Jake. Issuing an apology, Drake dragged the bewildered butler out to the parked Bentley.

“Master Drake, might I enquire as to the reason why we had to leave dinner early?”
“Because, Nickelby” said Drake, popping the boot, “We are on clean-up duty…”