Prince Amos Read Free

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. “Ihate 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.
    They were met at the door by a rather large woman wearing a formal gown and a sparkling tiara in her gray hair. She curtsied and said, “Ooh, Your Highness, we are so-oo delighted to have you.”
    Amos stuck out his hand. “Thanks, lady. I’m glad you asked me. It’s not every day you get invited to a swank deal like this one.”
    The woman looked confused. “Uh, yes—well, please follow me, Your Highness.”
    She led him to the front of an elegantly furnished room. A long line of people had formed, waiting to meet him.
    Amos nodded, said good afternoon, and shook one hundred and sixty-three hands. By the end, his hand felt like a ripe watermelon. It was swollen to three times its normal size.
    Charles leaned over. “You’re doing very well, sir.”
    Amos glared at him. “You didn’t tell me I had to shake hands with everybody in the city.”
    The next woman curtsied, and Amos nodded, but he put his hand in his pocket.
    A reporter was waiting at the end of the receiving line along with his cameraman. They flashed a couple of pictures and asked if the prince would be willing to answer a few questions.
    “His Highness is quite fatigued. We will be leaving for the hotel at once.” Charles took Amos’s arm and propelled him toward the