The Prince and I - 3

“How long have you been on the streets?” Arthur asked me.

“Two years,” I told him then I frowned, thinking about it, and nodded. “Yeah, two years.”

“You don’t sound all that certain.”

“One day’s like the next until you loose count.”  

Arthur nodded. “Understandable. If you don’t mind my asking, how do you survive, other than shoplifting?”

“Spanging, dumpster-diving, mainly.”

“I’ve heard that there are… other ways too.”

“And here it comes,” I muttered.

“I told you that wasn’t why I approached you.”

“Nabbed me is more like it. And to answer your question, yeah kids sell themselves but I don’t. I won’t. I’d rather starve.”

“Honorable of you.”

“Sensible more like. There’s people out there who… Well you know. Starving is preferable to other ways of dying.”

The waitress arrived just then with our meals, much to my relief. I wasn’t sure where Arthur was going with all his questions and having a reason to avoid them for the moment—and get some real food in me to boot—was fine with me.

We ate in silence, me trying to do so slowly so I could savor the burger. I knew it could be the last one I’d get for a while. Finally however I was finished and then Arthur got down to the nitty-gritty.

“I need someone to do something for me,” he began. “But not just anyone for reasons I’ll explain in a moment.”

I looked at him cautiously, frowning. “What kind of something?”

Instead of replying directly, Arthur leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table after pushing his empty plate to one side. “I have a friend, well more an acquaintance because I’m not sure we’re really friends. He’s well-to-do but reclusive. He’s got a boy about your age.”

I nodded, wondering where he was going with this. When Arthur remained silent, seemingly lost in thought, I prompted, “A boy my age?”

“Oh, yes. His name is Connor. He disappeared about three weeks ago and before you ask, it was of his own volition. He left a long, rambling note saying he was going to try to find out how ‘the other half’ lived.”

“And so? How do I fit into this? For sure I’m not the ‘other half’.”

“Unfortunately, I think you are. Connor left, as far as we can tell, with only the clothes on his back. Quite literally.”

“So you’re thinking he’s living on the streets? Do you know how many kids there are who do?”

“Actually, I do.” Arthur chuckled wryly. “The private investigator my friend hired was kind enough to point that out.”

“If he hired someone why isn’t he looking for this Connor?”

“He is, but it seemed to me that maybe it would help to have someone out there who might actually stand a chance of running into him. I know it’s probably a crap shoot but still.”