Date: Sat, 09 Dec 2023 13:41:31 +0000 From: jacklynch945 Subject: The Prince The Pauper And the Chief Chapter 38 Can you imagine life without Nifty? Please show your support with contributions to keep the Archive online. You can find out how at http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html This story includes episodes involving underage minors having sex with adults. I expressly condemn this kind of activity. I have made every attempt to present these acts in a thoughtful, sensitive manner. You may not agree. If so, I encourage to avoid reading it. This story mentions real people, real places, and real events, but the characters and the story are entirely fictional. It contains descriptions of sexual interactions between minors and adult men. Your feedback, whether in the form of comments or constructive criticism, will always be welcome. Please email me: jacklynch945@proton.me. The Prince. The Pauper. And the Chief. By Jack Lynch Chapter 38. Wait For Me. I'm Coming. "Let's say a little prayer for Cappy." Early the next morning, the crew stood on the dock next to the boat. "Ok, let's roll," Phil ordered a few seconds later. He was the newly anointed captain. Larry, now first mate, and the rest of the crew quickly cast off and headed out to sea. "We don't pull traps, it ain't gonna look good to the cops," Phil explained to Tratner."Besides, ya don't just leave traps for days." Tratner shrugged. "Just be at the rendezvous point to pick up the product at five." Walking away, he lifted a finger at Elwood and Rico. "Let's go." *** The previous night. Elwood turned to Larry. "You were gonna introduce me to that boy." "Oh, yeah," Larry chuckled a bit nervously, looking at Phil for some guidance. Phil wasn't listening. He was busy paying attention to Rico, who was going over the instructions yet again for picking up and handing the goods off tomorrow night. In short order, Elwood was driving Larry over to the house on Lyme Street. "Guess he ain't here," Larry said. He could see the disappointment in Elwood's eyes. "But, if ya wanna see some pictures of him, I know a guy." He quickly explained Harvey's "little art project," as he called it, to Elwood. "Come in, come in!" Harvey said as he welcomed them into his house with a sweeping gesture. As he allowed Elwood to page through the stack of his latest drawings, he offered the two men a drink. "It's something I just invented. Pour a splash of club soda into a glass of white wine. I call it a Spritzer!" "Hmmm, yeah good," Elwood said. He wasn't paying much attention. His eyeballs fairly ached from viewing the erotic works of art. "Pretty good, Harve!" Larry said. He resisted the urge to spit it out. A beer would have tasted a lot better. A soft rap at the front door. "If you'll excuse me, gentlemen." Larry and Elwood both looked up in surprise as Harvey ushered Quash into the living room. "Let me introduce you to a couple of acquaintances," Harvey said with a smile. Larry chuckled. "I think I pretty much know this kid." Elwood wiped some sweat off of his forehead. "So nice to see you again, young man," he said with a smile. No way, at twenty. Nah, at thirty. I dunno, at fifty. Well, aw right, at seventy-five. Harvey had tracked him down a couple of days ago when he was working a clambake out on South Beach. Waiting for just the right opportunity, he pulled Quash out of the light from the bonfire and told him about his little project. The image of this Black kid with the smooth shiny milk chocolate skin had been burning in Harvey's brain ever since the premiere party. He didn't know what was under those clothes, but he had a pretty good idea he wouldn't be disappointed. "I can ask these gentlemen to leave, if it would make you feel more comfortable," Harvey told Quash. "I don't think he'll mind much," Elwood chuckled. "I seen him in the all y'all and, I can tell you this, he's prettier than a peach in June." Larry just smirked. "You happen to have any beer, Harvey?" A few minutes later, Quash stood naked, his legs spread, hands on his hips. His mighty cock, soft at the moment, just lay there, softly bobbing back and forth, his balls jiggling lightly. Harvey scribbled like a mad man. Past one am, Harvey collapsed into a chair, just after he opened all of the windows. The place fairly stunk, what with all the sweat and jizz. In his mind, Elwood and Larry were both animals. They had fucked that boy every which way before they finally let Quash pour a load out over both of their faces. Harvey just watched. His little secret. He hadn't gotten it up in so many years, he couldn't even remember what it felt like. *** 5:30 am. Suzanne crept into the kitchen, not wanting to disturb Kip. Just as she grabbed her car keys and hand bag, she glanced over at his bed. Empty. Kip never made his bed, but even still, she could tell. It hadn't been slept in. Dreamless sleep. He should have felt rested. Instead, Prince opened his eyes to a pounding headache. He made it to the toilet just in time. For a moment, he thought his guts were going to come right out of his throat. Afterwards, Prince didn't feel much like eating. The only breakfast food in the kitchen besides dry cereal was some Toast `em Pop Ups. Even the sweet baked aroma didn't do much for him when a piece came out of the toaster. After a few bites, he threw the rest of it into the garbage. "Wait for me! I'm coming!" Kept echoing away in his head. Who was supposed to wait and who was coming? Prince was still dizzy and confused. He only knew one thing, for sure. The jig was up. He wanted to be done with this whole little game. Digging under the mattress, he pulled the money out he'd gotten from Harvey. Thirty bucks should be enough. Well, it was gonna have to be enough. Back in Oak Bluffs, Suzanne was both frightened and furious. "I don't wanna know why he isn't here. I wanna know where he is!" After rousting both Phil and Larry out of bed, they stood quietly looking at each other, one expecting the other one to come up with something that would placate Suzanne. "Suzanne! Just call a couple of his friends. He's been wanting to do a camp out all summer," Phil replied, a note of exasperation in his voice. "Larry and I gotta get to the boat." With that, they both quickly dressed and were out the door. Suzanne trailed them, hurling epithets as they left. About 9 am, during a lull in the breakfast rush at The Black Dog, she called the Edgartown Paper Store. "Yeah, Suzanne. I thought I saw his bike still on the rack next to the store when I opened up this morning," Stan told her. Holding his hand over the mouthpiece, he yelled, "Hey Trent! See if Kip's bike is still outside." A moment later, Trent came back in the side door. "It's gone now, Stan!" *** Kip took a deep breath and walked out the front door. Earlier, he had put on one of Prince's blue oxford cloth button down shirts, a pair of his khakis, and pulled his brown Topsiders out of the closet. He brushed his hair carefully in the Prince style. A block away from the Prince house, he caught a hitch to downtown Greenwich, waiting patiently for a half hour before the bus arrived. Just as he took the first step to get on the bus, a wave of nausea and dizziness hit him like a ton of bricks. He stumbled, having to put both hands down to keep from falling. "You ok, son?" The bus driver asked, looking down with concern. Kip felt so sick he was unable to reply. He just paid the fare and slumped down in the first available seat. He tried to get control over his breathing, afraid that if he started hyper-ventilating he was going to throw up right there. "What is happening?" He gasped under his breath. *** Likewise, Prince stepped out of his family's house. He'd made a lame attempt to dress like Kip, even though his own clothes were much more refined. A simple t-shirt, khaki shorts, and a pair of runners. Still unsteady on his feet, he almost stumbled right into Adrian as he was heading into work at the Shiretown Inn. "Hey! You ok, Kippy?" "Yeah, ok," Prince mumbled. He just kept on going. Adrian paused for a second. I wonder what's going on with him, he asked himself? He shrugged his shoulders. Time to start prep for this evening's meal service. A few minutes later. Tim turned his head to the right as he drove toward Oak Bluffs. There's Kip Kincaid, he thought. I wonder what he's doing, standing next to his bike, bent over like that. Prince had to stop his bike along the Beach Road. First bending over, then looking out to the horizon, he tried to get another wave of nausea under control. Within the hour, Chief Brady sat at the table in the OB police station's squad room. Delaney and Cosco were giving a briefing about the Tratner gang's whereabouts and most recent movement. Russo chewed on the stub of an unlit cigar. Dan Dimond had his elbow up on the table supporting the side of his head, making notes. JD Blanc, just returned from vacation, leaned forward in his chair, a concerned look on his face. They were still waiting for autopsy results and a ballistics report. "Dimes to dollars, it was a .357 magnum, from the looks of the wound," Cosco said. "The weapon of choice for people `in the trade,'" as he called them. "We got nothing else on a motive," Dimond reported. After asking around the harbor, interviewing Cappy's crew, and talking to some of the people he had hung around with at a bar in Oak Bluffs, no new information had surfaced. "I interviewed Conklin twice," Russo grunted. "That guy just gives me a bad feeling." He paused. "His brother, too." "Get tails on both of them," Delaney said. "And, let's check in with every hotel, inn, and B&B to find out if anyone has seen these three characters." When Prince showed up on the pier for work, Fergie gave him a questioning look. "You sure you're ok?" Prince tried to shake the cobwebs out of his head. He just nodded. Fergie grunted, grabbing a pretzel and a can of soda, and forcing them into Prince's hands. "You better eat something." *** Bill Smith looked up at Pete for a moment, squinting to make sure his wife's sister's kid was actually in his office on official business. "Well, lemme see," he said, rubbing his chin as he studied the mug shots Deputy Pete Brewster had just laid on the desk in front of him. "Nope. These guys don't ring a bell." Just then, Quash entered Smith's office carrying an invoice. Morning Glory Farm had just dropped off a load of fresh corn on the cob and other assorted home grown vegetables. Noticing the police officer standing in front of Smith's desk, he didn't say anything. But, when he dropped the invoice on the desk, he couldn't help but notice Elwood and Tratner's likenesses on the wanted poster. The headline said, "Armed and Dangerous." Quash's mouth dropped open. Pete noticed his expression right away. "You know anything about these guys?" A half hour later, Quash sat in Chief Brady's office. Pete leaned against the wall, arms crossed. "Mr. Kirschner," Tim repeated his name, dumbfounded. Quash had just finished describing his visit to Harvey's house, leaving out most of the explicit details. He didn't have to be more specific. Tim had a pretty good idea of what had taken place there. Even though his force was already stretched thin, he sent Pete over to Harvey's place to set up surveillance. "Park down the road. Bring a pair of binoculars. I want anyone coming and going ID'd." He sent Quash back to work. "If you hear from any of these guys, you call us right away." Quash nodded. "You got it?" Tim asked sharply. "Yass sir." *** "Cold sodas! Hot Pretzels!" Nearing the end of the afternoon, Prince was finally starting to feel better. The fog in his brain was finally clearing away. As the cooler at his feet dwindled to near empty and he had only two pretzels left, his plan solidified. Get on the next ferry to Woods Hole. From there, catch a bus. Get as close to Greenwich as possible. Call home or even take a taxi cab. A blast from the next arriving ferry. It seemed to blare into his ears while echoing in his mind, as if he was hearing it twice. Between blasts, he heard, "Wait for me! Wait for me!" Kip shuffled through the aisle toward the gang plank, mentally pushing the very tall man in front of him. He couldn't wait to get off, somehow afraid he might be unable exit the ferry before it pulled out again. It had been a mostly uneventful, boring at times, anxiety laden journey from Connecticut to the Cape. Save for a couple of adults who looked at him sideways, wondering what a kid was doing traveling by himself, he'd been mostly left alone. Once his feet hit the wood planking of the dock at Vineyard Haven, he breathed a deep sigh of relief. Prince's eyes were mostly directed to the horizon so he didn't even notice Kip until he was less than twenty feet from him. Even then, he was momentarily confused. Why was Prince walking briskly toward him when he knew for a fact, that he was Prince, standing right there? "I knew it! I just knew it!" Kip screamed as he plowed into The Prince. With a gasp and a giggle, Prince threw his arms around Kip. They jumped up and down as they turned in circles, both squealing and laughing. People stopped to watch, of course. What could be cuter than twin brothers who loved each other so much and were so happy to see each other? Chattering non-stop, Prince picked up the cooler, Kip grabbing the now empty cardboard box of pretzels. When they got back to the Snack-A-Way bus, Prince handed the cooler and money bag to Fergie. "What the...?" Fergie looked from one boy to the other. They both smiled, dimples appearing in unison on each right cheek. Before they reached Beach Road, Kip was already devising a plan to get Prince back to Greenwich. First, Prince would call home, telling whoever answered, that he was going to have dinner at Pratt's and sleep over. That way, he wouldn't be missed. Then, they'd hoof it over to Mr. Kirschner's house. He had already figured out Prince and Kip were switching identities. They would talk him into letting Prince stay at his place. Kip would get himself back to Oak Bluffs and spend the night in his own bed. Tomorrow, they'd get Prince back to Vineyard Haven and onto the ferry. Kip would call the bus line first thing in the morning to confirm the schedule. With any luck, Prince would be back in Greenwich in time for dinner tomorrow night. Calling home was easy enough. Fortunately, Isaac answered the phone. He seemed to be only half listening to Prince. "Ok. No problem." Isaac said listlessly. He dropped the phone back in the cradle, turning back to watch the x-rated video he had been playing on the VCR. His hand, down his pants, steadily worked his stiff joint. Three hitches later, they walked a short distance on Katama Road towards South Beach where it intersected with Edgartown Bay Road. Less than a half mile later, they walked up to Harvey's house. "Come in." Harvey's eyes widened in surprise for a brief moment, then an amused smile came over his face, as he looked upon the two boys. "It's fortunate that you're both here," Harvey said as he led them through the living room toward the deck. "There's a couple of people I'd like you to meet."