Prince Amos (2 page)

Mrs. Wormwood led the group of students inside the carved double doors. She motioned for them to sit in the balcony. The first afternoon they were supposed to watch the session, and tomorrow they would begin their duties as official pages.

Heads turned as Amos made his way down the aisle. He had chosen a black tie to go with his yellow suit, and he looked like a large walking banana with a rotten place in the front.

Dunc took notes for the full hour. Amos slept through most of it.

When the last senator was through speaking, Dunc shook Amos’s elbow. “Wake up. It’s time to meet the senators we’ve been assigned to work with all week. Come on.”

Amos rubbed his eyes. “I wasn’t asleep. I was just resting my eyelids. Long trip and everything.” He yawned and followed Dunc to the floor of the capitol building.

Dunc looked at the list. “You’ve been assigned to Senator Suborn, and I have Senator Grafter. There’s mine.” Dunc pointed to a tall white-haired man with a potbelly. “You look for yours. I’ll meet you back here in a few minutes.”

Amos wandered down the steps. His senator didn’t seem to be around. He turned to climb back up the steps and nearly ran into a boy wearing a wide purple ribbon across his chest.

The boy stared at Amos. Amos stared back. They stayed like that. Staring for several minutes. Finally Amos blinked. He couldn’t believe it. Looking at the boy was like looking in a mirror. They could have passed for identical twins.

The boy clicked his heels together and bowed. “I am Gustav the Eighth, Crown Prince of Moldavia. My entourage is here in America on a goodwill tour.”

Amos stuck out his hand. “I’m Amos the First, Nintendo king of the greater United States. I’m here because my social studies teacher threatened to flunk me if I stayed home. Nice to meet you, Gus.”

Dunc walked up as they were shaking hands. He looked from one face to the other and back again. “This is incredible. Amos, did you know that you two look exactly—”

Amos nodded. “Good-looking guy, isn’t he? Dunc, meet Gus. Gus, this is my best friend, Dunc.”

The boy clicked his heels again. “It is my extreme pleasure. I wonder, would the two of you do me the great honor of having breakfast with me tomorrow morning in my penthouse? It seems we have a great deal in common. I have a small proposition I’d like to discuss with you.”

“Sorry,” Amos started, “I’m all set to do my John Wayne impressions for—ouch!”
He glared at Dunc. “You almost broke my foot.”

Dunc smiled. “We’d be happy to have breakfast with you, Your Highness. Thank you for asking.”

“Fine. I will expect you at seven-thirty sharp. My hotel is the one across the street. Take the elevator to the top.” The boy bowed one last time and left.

“You better have a good explanation for what you just did, or I’m going to rearrange your face,” Amos growled.

“Amos, you can’t turn down an invitation from a prince.”

“For Melissa, I can turn down anybody.”

“Mrs. Wormwood said Melissa’s not feeling well. She may have the flu. I doubt if she’ll even be at breakfast.”

“Maybe I should take breakfast to her. You know, comfort her in her hour of need. She’d respect me, and then want me to be closer to her.… ”

“Mrs. Wormwood is staying with her. She’ll be fine. Besides, think how impressed she’ll be when she finds out that you had breakfast with a real prince.”

Amos looked thoughtful. “You might have a point there.”

Dunc smiled. “Sure I do. Trust me.”

“Don’t push it.”

Amos stepped inside the elevator. “I sure hope Gus has something good for breakfast. I’m starved.”

Dunc punched the button. “Can you imagine? We’re going to have breakfast in a penthouse with a real live prince. Now aren’t you glad you came with me?”

“I’ve been giving that some thought. Melissa would have been grateful to me for a long time if I had brought breakfast to her room. No telling how grateful.”

“I told you she has the flu,” Dunc said. “If you had brought her breakfast, she would
have thrown it up and it would have been all your fault.”

“Melissa can’t throw up,” Amos said. “She isn’t the kind who throws up. Girls like Melissa never throw up.”

The elevator stopped at the top floor, and the boys stepped out. There was only one door.

“This must be the place.” Dunc moved to the door and knocked.

A man wearing a black and white uniform opened the door. “Yes?” He stared at Amos.

Amos ducked under the man’s arm into the spacious room. “We’re here to see Gus.”

The man moved to the side. “Prince Gustav, your … guests have arrived.”

“Please show them in, Charles.” The prince was seated at a table, poring over the front page of the morning newspaper.

He stood up and invited them to sit. “I didn’t know what foods you liked, so I took the liberty of ordering one of everything on the menu. Please take your choice.”

Amos lifted the lid off the French toast. “This prince business must pay pretty well.”

Prince Gustav smiled. “I guess I do all right.”

Dunc scooped out some scrambled eggs. “You mentioned something about a proposition?”

“My father is in Washington visiting with your president. He has sent me here as a goodwill ambassador. He will join me when he is finished in Washington.”

“Okay.” Dunc shrugged. “But what does this have to do with us?”

“I’m coming to that. Since I have been in your state, I haven’t been allowed to address the legislature. Something always happens to prevent it. One night, Charles and I were locked in our room. Another time our limousine was delayed just long enough for me to miss an appointment. We have become the laughingstock of your country.” He showed them an article on the front page of the newspaper.

Amos swallowed a bite of pancake. “Sounds to me like someone is going to a lot of trouble to make you look bad.”

The prince nodded. “That’s what Charles and I think. And here’s where we need your
help. You may have noticed the uncanny resemblance we bear to each other?”

Amos looked at Dunc. “Is that another way of saying we look alike?”

Before Dunc could answer, the prince went on. “I propose that Amos and I trade places. Only for a short time. Until I can discover who is at the bottom of this conspiracy to discredit my country.”

Dunc shook his head. “It would never work. Amos doesn’t know anything about being a prince.”

Amos wiped the milk off his face with the back of his hand. “Speak for yourself. I think I’d make a great prince.”

Dunc frowned. “Amos, what about Mrs. Wormwood and the senators we’ve been assigned to work for?”

The prince cleared his throat. “All of that is easily taken care of. I will work for Amos’s senator. It will be the perfect cover. And your teacher need never know. What do you say?”

“What about the butler?” Amos whispered.

“Charles is completely loyal to the
throne. He will go along with anything I ask. I have discussed the matter with him, and he is quite willing to help you play the part.”

“Would I get to stay in the penthouse?”

“Of course. We would need to completely swap personalities. I will take your place as a page, and you will make a few small public appearances on my behalf. When we have this little matter cleared up, we will switch back.”

“I don’t think—” Dunc started.

“It’s for his country,” Amos interrupted. “It’ll be tough living up here in luxury while you guys are down there slaving away—but I’m willing to make the sacrifice.”

“Where have you been?” Mrs. Wormwood was waiting for them outside their motel room. She grabbed the prince by the ear and twisted. “I told you to stay with the group.”

The prince gently but firmly removed her hand. “My dear lady. There’s no need for alarm. My companion and I have simply been taking the morning air.”

Mrs. Wormwood’s mouth fell open.

Dunc took the prince’s arm and pulled him inside the motel room. “Uh—he means we’re real sorry, Mrs. Wormwood. We won’t let it happen again.”

The prince brushed an imaginary crumb off his sleeve. “What a difficult person.”

Dunc scratched his head. “I think you better have a crash course in being Amos, or we could be in some serious trouble here.”

“Did I do something wrong?”

“Well, it’s just that Amos is a little more laid back. You know, less formal.”

“I see. Is there anything else?”

“You’ve got to quit being so neat. Amos is sort of casual—in a sloppy kind of way.”

“I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

“Let me show you.” Dunc recombed the prince’s hair so that it was flat on one side and stood up on the other. Then he took Amos’s suit jacket, wadded it up, and sat on it.

The prince put it on and looked at himself in the mirror. “Your friend certainly has strange taste.”

Amos was watching the big-screen TV in the penthouse. He had already ordered room service three times and was thinking about calling them again.

“Ahem.” Charles cleared his throat. “I
hate to bother you, sir. But His Highness has an engagement in the Crystal Room at Wilshire Park in one hour. I think you should dress.”

Amos looked down at himself. “I am dressed. This is the suit Gus had on. What’s wrong with it?”

“The engagement will require a more formal attire, sir. I have your clothes laid out for you in the dressing room.”

Amos pressed the off button on the remote control. “I guess it won’t hurt me to change clothes.”

He moved to the dressing room. Charles followed. Amos looked at him. “Did you leave something in here?”

“No, sir. I’m here to assist you.”

“I don’t know how things are in your country, Chuck, but where I come from, a guy my age dresses himself.”

Charles bowed. “As you wish, sir. I’ll be just outside if you need me.”

Amos looked at the clothes lying on the couch. He picked up a piece of gold braid. “How hard can it be?”

Charles coughed and covered his mouth with his hand. “Might I suggest, sir, that you not wear your cummerbund on your head? It goes around the waist.”

Amos pulled it off his head. “It’s a belt? I would never have guessed! I figured it was either a hat or a slingshot.”

“May I?” Charles fastened the black elastic piece around Amos’s waist. “Might I also suggest that you comb your hair before we depart?”

Amos touched his hair. “I hate to break it to you, Chuck, but I already combed it.”

Charles sighed. “Yes, sir. Would you mind terribly if I touched it up a bit?”

“You can try.”

Twenty-five minutes and a jar of hair grease later, Amos was finally ready.

“There.” Charles was obviously pleased with himself. “No one would ever guess you’re not the prince.”

Amos blew a big pink bubble. It popped and stuck all over his face. “I told Dunc this prince business would be a cinch.”

Charles closed his eyes. “The car is waiting.”

On the way to the Crystal Room, Charles explained Amos’s duties. He would be the guest of honor at a reception given by the Daughters of Independence. He would be introduced to several ladies and their husbands. All he had to do was nod his head, shake hands, and say something appropriate—like good afternoon.