Date: Fri, 22 Sep 2023 11:39:56 +0000 From: jacklynch945 Subject: The Prince The Pauper And the Chief Chapter 9 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 9. Like in a Movie. Tim stood patiently in line at the Edgartown Paper Store, a pack of Freshen Up gum in his hand. "How ya doin,' Chief?" "Couldn't be better, Stan. You?" Stan smiled at the cash register keys as he punched in fifteen cents. Just across the street from Al's Package Store on South Water Street, Stan's store was constantly teeming with customers. No time to waste. A year's worth of business to be racked up in just over ninety days. Tim looked over his shoulder. A light blond head appeared just over the top of a nearby rack. "I see you have a new helper." "Yeah," Stan chuckled as he looked over at Kip Kincaid. This time of year, child labor laws were thrown out the window. Everybody on the Vineyard needed help, so you got it where and when you could get it. Kip had been on the job as a stock boy at the Edgartown Paper Store for three days now. The work wasn't that hard and, besides that, he got to wear a cool green apron. He performed a bunch of tasks but, right now, his sole job was to keep the row of candy and chips fully stocked. The treats sold off the racks almost as quickly as he replenished them. By the time he got to the end of the aisle, it was time to turn around and restock going the opposite direction. On the way out the door, Trent called Tim over to the pharmacy. Out of place in a New England town and definitely out of place as an assistant pharmacist, Trent looked more like some California surfer dude. Blond pudding bowl haircut, tanned skin, blue eyes, athletic build. "Chief, how ya doin'?" "Good. What's up?" Trent leaned over the pharmacy counter. In a low voice, "Harvey is going to have some people over to his place tonight." Silent messages were sent back and forth as the two men stared at each other for a moment. "Well, I dunno, Trent. I'll have to see about that." Trent smiled. "Maybe I'll see ya over there." "Maybe you will." Eight o'clock comes fast, especially when you're working. "Ok, Kip. Let's call it a day," Stan said. Kip let out a satisfied sigh as he pulled the apron over his head. The store was going to be open until nine. In the meantime, Stan and his son could handle it themselves. "Good job, young man," Stan called to Kip as he left the store. Street lights were just blinking on when Kip hit the sidewalk in front of the store. Turning left, he walked over to the rack where his bike was secured with the lock Chief Brady had given him. As he leaned down to put the key in the lock, he happened to glance up. That's when he saw him. That kid. The one who had wiped him out on the beach. Across the street in front of Mad Martha's, eating an ice cream cone. Kip straightened up, walked to the curb, and crossed the street, dodging a passing car. The rage was building as he approached him. The kid was just standing there, his back against the ice cream shop window, one foot up on the wall. Behind him, through the glass window, the crowd pressed its way forward to the display counter where the ice cream cones, sundaes, and banana splits were being dispensed. Kip glowered at him, his fists opening and closing. The kid just kept licking around that ice cream cone, a kind of arrogant detached expression on his face. Kip suddenly realized the little prick was eating his most favorite kind of ice cream in the world, one scoop of chocolate with another scoop of mint chocolate chip on top. Never in a hundred years could Kip afford thirty-five cents for a double scoop at Mad Martha's. The hate just bubbled up in his throat. He shook the hair out of his eyes, glaring at him. For what seemed like several minutes, the two boys screamed at each other. Jaw dropping obscenities, threats, savage epithets. Finally it died down to soft mumbles followed by complete silence. Kip looked to the side, suddenly aware of the scene they must have created. But, no one was paying any attention to them at all. He frowned. Was all that yelling just taking place in his head? Doing his best to act cool, he continued to take long licks around the ice cream cone. The Prince was doing everything he could to hold it together. Inside though, he was totally shook up. It was sort of like staring at himself in a mirror. Only, it wasn't a mirror. More like watching himself in a movie. Different though. If he slightly turned his head to the side, it was obvious that this kid was real. He could hear him breathing. He could even smell him. They were literally eye-to-eye. Then, the verbal barrage. Only, no words came out. They were just inside his head somewhere. After it was over, the kid glanced to the side. That's when Prince saw it. His own face! "C'mon, Prince! We're going!" Kip was suddenly aware of a group of people coming out of Mad Martha's. By this time, he was having trouble focusing on anything but the kid in front of him. It seemed like the words had been spoken by an adult. He actually wasn't sure. Prince glanced over to his family, now strolling up Water Street, heading back in the direction of the house. "Gimme your hand." "No." "Give it to me!" He commanded sharply. The Prince grabbed his arm by the wrist and thrust the half eaten ice cream cone into Kip's hand. "Tomorrow. One o'clock. In front of the library." With that, he was gone.