It's Dough Contest
part 1

TaleSpin and its characters are property of Disney. All other characters are mine and cannot be used without permission. A big thanks goes out to Gidget for all of her wonderful suggestions. And I'd like to thank my sister for being so patient with me as well as for always laughing at the right places. :o)

Cape Suzette
June 1937
Monday Afternoon

A yellow Conwing L-16 seaplane, returning from a cargo run, soared between the opening in the massive cliffs surrounding the coastal city of Cape Suzette and splashed down for a landing in the sparkling blue harbor. The Sea Duck taxied to the dock. When its twin Superflight 100 engines stopped, the pilot, an overweight grey bear, stepped out onto the dock.

"Ah...it's good to be back," Baloo sighed, strolling towards the plain brown building at a leisurely pace. Before him stretched a free afternoon, devoid of anything associated with that dreaded four-letter word: work. He was going to get a little snack - make that a big snack - then sleep, sleep, sleep.

But first, he had to give the receipt of delivery to his boss. If he didn't, she would lecture him for hours on end about responsibility. Nothing ruined a good snooze like Rebecca's nagging.

Before entering Higher for Hire, Baloo cast an appreciative glance at the lovely summer day. The sky was so clear and the sun was so bright that he thought that nothing could possibly go wrong on a day like this.

Upon stepping inside, he greeted his boss, Rebecca Cunningham, with a cheerful, "Happy hi-hi, Beckers."

"Hello, Baloo," Rebecca, a petite brown bearess, said pleasantly.

Baloo tossed a crumpled receipt on her desk, barely noticing the man sitting across from her, then promptly headed for the kitchen. He was jerked backwards when Rebecca grabbed his arm.

She said sweetly, "Would you come here for a minute, Baloo?"

"Like I got a choice." Baloo pried her small, yet strong fingers off his arm, then rubbed the sore spot.

"I'd like you to meet, Mr. Tannenbaum." She turned to a middle-aged grey goat seated on a crate across the desk from her. He wore a suit a shade darker than his fur; his expression was as sour as if he had just eaten a lemon. "Mr. Tannenbaum, this is Baloo. Baloo, Mr. Tannenbaum."

"Howdy," Baloo said, flashing a friendly smile. He extended his hand, wondering why it was so important that he met this guy. Customarily, he didn't deal personally with the clients, which was how he liked it.

Ignoring Baloo's proffered hand, Mr. Tannenbaum ran a bony index finger over his clipboard. He jabbed his finger at a line halfway down. "Mm-hmm. Baloo. Male bear. Thirty-seven. Pilot. I see." He squinted up at the big bear through his pince-nez.

Wondering what the goat 'saw', Baloo said tentatively, "The best pilot in the world, by my own estimation."

"Uh-huh." Mr. Tannenbaum made a brief notation on the clipboard. "Your wife was just telling me all about your air cargo business."

"She's the one to do it. Listen, I'd love to stay an' chat, but I got me a date with a..." When Mr. Tannenbaum's words finally registered, the pilot's eyes nearly popped out of his head. "My what?" He glared at her, wondering what crazy scheme she was up to now.

Rebecca shot Baloo a look that clearly said 'play along'.

"Oh, right, uh, sure...my wife." Baloo threw his boss a dirty look.

"Is there something wrong?" Mr. Tannenbaum asked, his sharp gaze flitting from Baloo to Rebecca.

"N-no. Of course not," Rebecca stammered, smiling brightly.

Pen poised over the clipboard, Mr. Tannenbaum said, "Good. Let's get on with it, shall we?"

"Get on with what?" Baloo asked, taking an instant dislike to this stuffed shirt. Of course, he didn't dislike Mr. Tannenbaum half as much as he did Rebecca at that moment.

All thoughts of murdering his boss were driven from Baloo's mind when Mr. Tannenbaum told them, "I'm going to be spending a week with you and your family, Mr. Cunningham."

"A-a week?" Baloo gasped.

As if he hadn't heard the pilot, Mr. Tannenbaum continued, "I've already spent a week with the other family and have collected the necessary information. Perhaps you've heard of them? They own Lee's Bakery."

"Ain't they the ones with the motto: 'Buy lots of bread for little dough'?" Baloo ventured. "They got good rolls...an' donuts...an' their pastries ain't half bad neither."

"You are correct, Mr. Cunningham."

"Please, please call me Baloo," the big bear pleaded.

"And to think that we advertised for them," Rebecca muttered sullenly under her breath. When she felt Mr. Tannenbaum's piercing gaze on her, she amended, "I mean, let the best business win."

Baloo leaned over to murmur in her ear, "What the in the Sam Hill is goin' on here, Rebecca? Who is this...mmmph?" She had clamped a hand over his mouth.

"Would you look at the time?" Rebecca said, making a big show of checking her watch. "We have to go pick up the kids at school, right, Baloo?"

"Right an' we'll pick up your brains at the cleaners' on the way."

"You just make yourself at home, Mr. Tannenbaum, while we go pick up our two wonderful children. I'm sure they'll be thrilled to hear that you're staying with us." She grabbed hold of Baloo's shirt sleeve and dragged him outside.

"One big goosebump of excitement," Baloo muttered morosely.

Rebecca got behind the wheel of her grey 1934 Chevrolette sedan while Baloo slid into the passenger seat.

He slammed the car door shut as she put started up the vehicle. "What in blue blazes is goin' on here, lady? Is this another one of your cockamamie moneymakin' schemes?"

"No," Rebecca said calmly, turning the car onto the street. "And why do you think that this is a crazy scheme?"

"You came up with it. It's gotta be crazy. Remember the ostrich feathers?"

"If you hadn't sneezed, we would have been rich!"

"An' usin' the pig to hunt truffles."

"Could I help it if the pygmies like pigs?"

"Not to mention that floatin' gas station."

"It's not my fault that it exploded."

"See," Baloo laughed derisively. "All your ideas blow up in your face."

"This one won't," Rebecca said decidedly. "You aren't so perfect yourself, flyboy. What about all the treasure hunts you go on? Where's the loot, Baloo? Did you spend it all on your twenty-seven sick aunts?"

"Well, I..." Baloo stuttered, wringing his hands nervously.

"And that trouble you caused by dragging me to that haunted castle of yours? Huh? I was almost roasted alive over an open fire!"

Baloo growled, "Speakin' of trouble, what about all that hoo-hah you started last month when you rented the Duck to Martin Torque?"

"You promised never to bring that up again!" Tears pricked Rebecca's eyes at the memory. After she turned the corner, she swiftly swiped her hand across her eyes.

"Sorry," he murmured contritely. "All right, Becky. Give. Who the heck is that guy? Why is he here? An' why does he think we're," he shuddered, "married?"

"Mr. Tannenbaum is from the Chamber of Commerce. I entered us in the Cape Suzette Family Business of the Year contest where, if we win, we'll get $100,000 and a year's worth of free advertising in the magazine of our choice."

"So?"

"So, the good news is that Higher for Hire is a finalist."

"What's the bad news, Becky?"

"It's not exactly bad news," she said, pulling the car to the curb in front of the Cape Suzette elementary school; she turned off the engine. They were now one in a long line of automobiles containing parents waiting for their children.

"C'mon, spit it out!"

Rebecca cringed. "We have to pretend to be a family for a week while Mr. Tannenbaum stays with us."

"WHAT!" Furious, Baloo flung the door open and put one foot out. "You've had some stupid ideas before, but this one tops 'em all, lady! No way am I goin' through with this!"

Before he could get out, Rebecca detained him by snagging the back of his shirt. "Please, Baloo? I'll...I'll..." in a fit of desperation, she said, "split the prize money with you. Seventy-thirty."

"Fifty-fifty," Baloo shot back.

"Sixty-forty?"

"Fifty-fifty, or I go tell Mr. Whiskers that we ain't even kissin' cousins."

"All right, Baloo," Rebecca sighed in defeat. She released his shirt. "Fifty-fifty."

Baloo rubbed the back of his neck, thinking of what he could buy with the money, namely, the Sea Duck. "Do you really think we can keep this char-aid up for an entire week?"

"Are you willing to try it for $50,000?"

He drew his feet into the car and shut the door. "I'll try."

"Good." She shook his hand with a smile. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Cunningham."

Baloo winced. "Never call me that again, Becky." He was momentarily startled by someone knocking on the window. Looking out, he saw Molly, a six-year-old bearess, waving and smiling at him.

The cubs climbed into the backseat of the car.

"What are you two doing here?" Kit asked, putting his book bag on the seat. The twelve-year-old brown bear cub wondered what was going on; usually, he walked home from school.

Rebecca handed out copies of the entry essay to everyone. "Read it. Memorize it. This is who we are for the next week."

Kit's eyes flitted over the page. "What does this mean, Miz Cunningham?"

Turning in her seat to look at the cubs, Rebecca explained, "We're finalists in the Cape Suzette Family Business of the Year contest. If we win, we get a lot of money."

Baloo interjected quickly, "Which me an' Becky are splittin'."

"And Higher for Hire gets free advertising for a year. We can use all the advertising we can get."

"Do you really think we can pull this off for an entire week?" Kit said skeptically. "It's a lot of lies to remember."

"Don't think of it as lies, Kit. Think of it as a means to make money."

"A boatload of money," Baloo said happily. Enough moolah ta buy back the Duck.

"You're both nuts," Kit murmured under his breath.

Molly pointed to a sentence. "It says here that you and Baloo are married, Mommy. Is that true?" Her eager gaze moved from Rebecca to Baloo, then back to Rebecca.

"Ha!" Baloo scoffed; he scooted closer to the door. "When pigs fly!"

"Pretend married, sweetie," Rebecca corrected gently. "We just have to pretend to be a family to fool a judge."

"We have to fool a judge?" Kit squeaked. "For a whole week? Oh, no!"

"Yippee!" Molly cried. "A whole week!"

"We'd better be getting back or Mr. Tannenbaum will be suspicious." Rebecca started the car and pulled away from the curb. "Oh, one more thing, Baloo. You and Kit will be moving into my apartment."

"What?"

"Why?" Kit asked, looking up from the entry essay.

"Because no one would believe that Higher for Hire is a home."

Baloo bristled. "It's me and Kit's home."

"It doesn't look like a family lives there, and that's what we're supposed to be. A family."

"But...but...!"

"You're moving and that's final!" Rebecca snapped. "Kit, we can move your bed into Molly's room."

"Oh, swell," Baloo grumbled. "I can just guess who'll be doin' the movin'."

"And, Baloo, since we're supposed to be married, you'll be sleeping, um..." casting a sheepish glance at him, she said quickly, "in my room."

"What? Forget it, lady! No way, now how, you an' me, uh..." Baloo's face flamed crimson. He stammered, "Fifty thousand dollars or no fifty thousand dollars, the deal's off!"

"You'll sleep on the floor."

"How come I gotta sleep on the floor?"

"It's my bed. Besides, you can sleep anywhere - on a beam in the warehouse, in that ratty old armchair. It'll only be for a few days."

"That an' fifty thousand smackers," Baloo murmured angrily to himself. "Then me an' Kit can deep-six this popsicle stand."

They pulled up at Higher for Hire.

Getting out the car, Rebecca said, "Remember. Think family."

"Think family," Baloo scoffed. He slammed the car door.

"And smile." Rebecca opened the office door, saying cheerfully, "We're back, Mr. Tannenbaum. I hope you weren't bored."

"Not at all, Mrs. Cunningham." He was in the exact same place that he had been when they left. It appeared that he hadn't moved a muscle.

Rebecca placed an arm around both of the cubs and led them over to Mr. Tannenbaum. "These are our children: Kit and Molly."

"Hi," said Molly, grinning.

Kit politely extended his hand. "Nice to meet you, sir."

Mr. Tannenbaum briefly touched Kit's fingers, then scribbled something on his clipboard.

Kit flashed a questioning look at Baloo, who shrugged in response.

"I have an idea," Rebecca said as if she had just thought it up. "Why don't I show you the Sea Duck?"

"I'd rather the pilot..." The judge flashed a questioning glance at Baloo, who gave him a forced smile.

"I'm afraid that's impossible at the moment," Rebecca said apologetically. "Baloo has a downtown delivery to make, don't you, Butterball?"

Baloo winced at the nickname. Between clenched teeth, he asked, "I do, Honeylips?"

Rebecca scowled at him. "Of course you remember the delivery. You know. The b-e-d."

Baloo sniffed his shirt. "I don't smell that bad."

"My bed," Kit coughed.

Finally understanding, Baloo said, "Oh...oh, yeah. Bed...er, big delivery to make. Kit an' me gotta grab somethin' from upstairs, an' we'll be back later after the delivery."

Baloo and Kit raced upstairs.

Chattering brightly, Rebecca led Mr. Tannenbaum outdoors.

A few moments later, Molly, who had fished her Danger Woman helmet and cape out from the bottom drawer in her mother's desk, heard a crash and a loud "Doggone it!" She ran up the stairs and peeked in Baloo's and Kit's bedroom. Kit stood to one side with the bedclothes wadded up in his arms while Baloo wrestled with the twin-sized mattress.

"Can I help?" she asked, crouching to avoid the mattress as it swooped towards her head.

"Sure thing, Button-nose. Go be the lookout," Baloo's muffled voice answered.

"Danger Woman springs into action!" The little girl hurried downstairs to don her costume and to watch the front door.

"Whoa-whoa-ho!" Losing his equilibrium, Baloo stumbled backwards, knocking the hula girl lamp off of the night stand.

Crash! went the lightbulb.

"Oh, man..."

"You okay, Papa Bear?"

"Help me out here, kid. Can't see where I'm goin'."

Kit ducked under the mattress and stood in the bedroom doorway. "Go right. Right. No, your other right."

"Yours or mine?"

"Starboard. Yours."

"Now you're talkin' my lingo."

After smacking the mattress into the doorframe twice, Baloo squeezed through the door and came onto the landing.

"Okay, now hard-a port," Kit directed, taking hold of the front end of the mattress to help swing it around towards the stairway. "Port. That's it."

"Tell me when we get to the stairs-airs-airs-aaaaaahhhh!" Baloo missed the top step and lurched forward. The mattress flew out of his hands. The big bear belly-flopped on top of the mattress that was rocketing downwards.

At the same time, the mattress knocked Kit off his feet. The boy did a back flip and landed on his knees on the mattress. "Papa Beeeaaaaar!" he yelled as the mattress slid down the stairs.

Pilot and navigator were flung off when the mattress crashed into the banister at the end of the flight of stairs. Kit landed on a rug and skidded across the office; he glided to a gentle stop in front of the old maroon chair. Baloo, who wasn't so lucky, nosedived into a pile of crates containing bowling balls.

"Watch that first step," Baloo slurred, dizzily sitting up; he held a hand to his pounding head. "It's a lulu."

Molly hurried over to Kit and helped him up, saying, "Can I try that?"

"No!" Baloo and Kit said simultaneously.

"Aw...I never get to have any fun," she whined.

"Aren't you supposed to be watching the door, Danger Woman?" Kit asked.

"Oh, right!" Molly resumed her post at the office door.

Once again, Baloo shouldered the awkward mattress with a grunt of exertion and staggered through the office and out the door.

"Red light!" Molly squeaked. "They're coming, Baloo!"

Baloo set the mattress down on one end. Seeing no place to hide the mattress, he propped it against the side of the building. He leaned against it casually, trying to cover it as much as he could with his large body, while Kit tossed the bedclothes around the corner of the building. Baloo, Kit, and Molly flashed big, toothy grins at Mr. Tannenbaum.

"Nice day, ain't it, Mr. T?" Baloo said.

Mr. Tannenbaum gave Baloo an odd look. "Was that there before?"

"Was what there before?"

"That mattress." The judge adjusted his pince-nez and tried to see what was behind Baloo, but every time he moved in for a closer look, Baloo blocked the way.

"What mattress? You see any mattress, Kit?"

"Nope. Not me," Kit said, crossing his fingers behind his back. "No mattress here."

"But I could swear..."

"Let's go inside, shall we?" Rebecca interrupted, firmly taking the judge by the elbow. "While Baloo and Kit make that delivery, we can go over those ledgers like you wanted to."

When the door closed, Baloo, Kit, and Molly breathed a collective sigh of relief.

"That was too close," Kit murmured.

Baloo picked up the heavy, unwieldy mattress and headed for the Chevrolette. "Just once I'd like to have the idea and see Becky do the work."

The Cunninghams' Apartment
That Evening

Rebecca stood in front of the stove. Her face was rosy from stirring a steaming pot of spaghetti sauce.

She continued to stir with her left hand. With her right hand, she picked up a fork and stabbed the vegetables that were boiling on the back burner. Seeing that they were done, she spun around and said frantically, "Kit, drain the vegetables and add butter. Oh!" She had just noticed that she was dripping sauce onto the floor from her wooden spoon. She hurried to the sink and grabbed a sponge to clean up the mess.

"Yes, Miz...Rebecca." Kit hopped up from the table and headed to the stove.

"Molly, honey, set the dining room table," Rebecca said, sidling past Kit with a sudsy sponge.

"Okay, Mommy." The little girl put down her crayons and went to the silverware drawer, which happened to be right where Kit was standing. She pulled out the drawer, mindless of him and the pot in his hand.

"Careful, Short Stuff!" Kit exclaimed, jumping to the side and out of her way.

Molly stuck her tongue out at him.

"Be nice to each other, kids. We have a very important guest," Rebecca said pointedly, scrubbing at the spot on the floor. "Use the good silverware and remember that the knives go on the left side of the plate with the blade facing inward."

"I'll help her," Kit offered. He swiftly drained the vegetables, added a lump of butter, then hurried to the dining room.

Just at that moment, Baloo wandered into the kitchen. Seeing Rebecca on her hands and knees sponging up the mess, he teased, "Lose somethin'?"

"No, but I know of a pilot who'll lose his job if he doesn't get out of this kitchen," Rebecca whispered loudly, standing up. She blew a loose tendril of hair from her face and returned to stirring the spaghetti sauce.

"What's that?" he said, pointing to the opposite side of the room.

"What's what?" Rebecca asked, turning around. She spun back around just in time to see Baloo stick his finger in his mouth. "Out, Baloo!" She rapped his hand with the spoon, depositing a blob of sauce, which he promptly licked off. "You should be entertaining our guest."

"I'm tired of Mr. Nosey. He's got more questions than I've got answers."

"I'll give you fifty thousand reasons why you should get back in there."

"But..."

"Make something up. You're good at that."

"I'm goin'. I'm goin'."

"While you're at it, put these on the table." She handed him the salt and pepper shakers.

"Add a little spice to your life?" He held them over the pot of spaghetti sauce.

"Out!"

"Sheesh! Shouldn't ya be nicer to your hubby, Honeylips?"

He was rewarded with a glare.

A Half Hour Later

Rebecca, spearing a dainty bite of chocolate cake with her fork, glanced out of the corner of her eye at Mr. Tannenbaum who was seated on her right. The judge's behavior had been the same throughout the entire meal - take a bite, then write a comment on the clipboard. It was making her curious as well as more than a little nervous.

At long last, Mr. Tannenbaum put down his fork and wiped his mouth with his napkin. "That was tasty, Mrs. Cunningham."

Her spirits rose. Then, just as quickly, they fell when he made a hasty note on his clipboard.

"Yeah," Baloo belched. "Not half bad, Beckers." He ran his large pink tongue around the outside of his mouth with a loud slurp.

Rebecca shot him a fierce reproving look across the table.

The pilot's eyes dropped to his plate. He murmured contritely, "Excuse me."

Rebecca wanted to scream with frustration when she noticed the large blob of sauce peeping out from beneath Baloo's plate; it was obvious that he was trying to conceal it. Her best lace tablecloth - ruined! She glared at Baloo, then said pleasantly, "Why don't I give you a little tour of the apartment, Mr. Tannenbaum, especially since you'll be staying with us for a while?"

"All right." He gathered up his clipboard and pen, rose from his chair, and followed her.

Baloo and the cubs did likewise.

"You have a nice home, Mrs. Cunningham," he said tersely, taking in every minute detail of the apartment from the art deco on the doors to the very dirt in the potted plants with his shrewd eyes.

"Why, thank you."

"It should be nice. All our profits go into it," Baloo muttered.

Rebecca jabbed him in the side with her elbow. "This is the kids' room," she said, opening the door at the end of the hallway.

Mr. Tannenbaum stood in the doorway, looking at the room containing a frilly canopy bed, a doll house, a miniature tea table, as well as the plethora of stuffed animals, dolls and girlish toys. "Both of the children sleep here, including the young man?"

Fingers crossed behind his back, Kit stepped forward. "Yes, sir. That side of the room is mine. I don't have much stuff, because..." recalling one of his recent vocabulary words, he concluded, "because I'm a minimalist."

The judge frowned over his pince-nez at the mattress that had been hastily tossed in the corner. The pillow and bedclothes were heaped on top of it in a confused jumble.

"I see. Is that your bed?" He pointed to the mattress with his pen.

Kit nodded. "It's not usually that messy. I was in a hurry to get to school this morning. To study. Big test today."

After jotting down a note, Mr. Tannenbaum said sanctimoniously, "Try to be neater in the future."

"Yes, sir."Kit had to stifle a laugh when Baloo, his mouth in a tight line, mimicked writing something in the palm of his hand. It was a perfect imitation of Mr. Tannenbaum.

After shooting a death glare at her pilot over her shoulder, Rebecca led the judge down the hall. She opened a door on her left. "This is the bathroom."

"The room with the bath," Baloo added, receiving another dirty look from his boss for the witless witticism.

"I see," Mr. Tannenbaum said, writing a comment on the clipboard. He clapped it to his body and gave Molly an annoyed look over his pince-nez when she tried to sneak a peek.

"Why can't I see his clipboard? He got to see my room," Molly said irritably, arms crossed.

Rebecca hushed her daughter with a stern look. She hid her mounting irritation under a facade of pleasantness when she said, "And this is the master bedroom." She opened a door across the hall from the bathroom.

"Hm-hmm..." Mr. Tannenbaum murmured when Rebecca flipped on the light. His scrutinizing gaze flitted around the meticulously neat room. "Definitely a woman's touch."

Rebecca's fingers gouged into Baloo's arm to prevent him from making a snide comment. "A really strong woman's touch," the big bear mumbled.

"The living room, dining room, and kitchen you've seen," Rebecca said, shutting the bedroom door.

Molly added, "And the waterfall."

Rebecca smiled at the little girl. "Yes, Pumpkin, he saw the waterfall. That's it, Mr. Tannenbaum. That's our home."

Baloo loudly cleared his throat, prompting another death glare from Rebecca.

"Just make yourself comfortable in the living room, Mr. Tannenbaum," Rebecca said brightly, ushering him towards the sage green couch. "Baloo and the kids will keep you company while I clear the table. It'll only take a second. Then, maybe we can all play a board game. We have checkers, Monopolize..."

"Candy Cane Land," Molly chimed in, naming her favorite board game. She sat down on the blue, round parlor sofa and picked up her doll Lucy.

The judge said curtly, "I'm not much for board games."

"Cards?"

"I'm not much for cards."

"Is there a radio program you'd like to listen to? We get wonderful reception here."

"No."

Kit, sitting beside Molly, checked his watch. It was time for this week's new episode of Space Riders, his favorite radio program. Once again, he was missing it, because of one of Baloo's and Rebecca's crazy get-rich-quick schemes.

"Oh," Rebecca said, perplexed as to how to entertain her uncooperative guest. "Well...in that case, we'll just share some riveting conversation."

"Rivetin'," Baloo murmured sullenly, plopping down on the couch beside the judge. He wished that he was at Higher for Hire, taking an after-supper snooze in his comfortable armchair.

"Don't bore him with air pirate stories!" Rebecca whispered into Baloo's ear.

"Then what am I s'posed ta talk to him about?" Baloo whispered back.

"I don't know. Anything but flying." She hurried across the room to clear the table.

"Anythin' but flyin'. Flying's all I know," Baloo grumbled under his breath. He cleared his throat nervously and turned to Mr. Tannenbaum. "So, how 'bout them Sox?"

Later that Night
Molly's Room

Kit was curled up in bed. As he waited for sleep to claim him, his drowsy eyes wandered about the unfamiliar room - at Molly's canopy bed, at the blocks and stuffed animals scattered across the floor, at the miniature tea table, finally at the doll house. From his vantage point, the soft light from the Danger Woman nightlight shone through the windows of the dollhouse, making it seem like a real house.

He smiled, recalling the warm feeling that he had gotten while watching Miz Cunningham tuck Molly into bed. It had reminded him of that night, six months ago, when they had first come to Higher for Hire.

Fixing his gaze on the baseball cap that was on the floor beside his mattress, Kit's smile widened. The past six months had been the best in his life. After years of searching, he had finally found a place where he belonged.

His smile faded when he remembered the contest. If they won, Baloo would get enough money to buy back the Sea Duck and then pilot and navigator would leave Higher for Hire, leave the Cunninghams, leave Wildcat. Life wasn't fair. Just as things were perfect, they had to change. And all because Miz Cunningham had entered them in some stupid contest.

His reverie was interrupted by a loud whisper: "Kit, are you asleep?"

Kit peered through the darkness to meet Molly's shining brown eyes. "No," he murmured.

"Ya wanna know something?"

"What?"

"This is kinda fun, like a slumber party."

"Yeah." He grinned, closing his eyes.

After a momentary silence, Molly whispered, "Kit?"

"What?" He opened his eyes to look at her.

"Me and Lucy wish that we could stay a family forever and ever."

"Me, too, Molly. Me, too," Kit whispered.

In the next room, Baloo spread blankets out on the carpeted floor beside Rebecca's bed. "We ain't never gonna get through this week."

"We probably already blew it, thanks to your slip-up at dinner."

"How was I s'posed ta know pink was your favorite color?" Baloo crawled into his 'bed'. He pounded the pillow with his fist a few times before laying his head on it with a tired sigh.

Rebecca, clad in a nightgown and purple robe, opened her closet where almost every article of clothing was some shade of pink or purple. She pulled out her fuzzy pink slippers and put them on.

"Don't be so obtuse, Baloo."

"Hey, I ain't that fat!" Baloo said, sitting bolt upright.

Smiling at his ignorance, she got into bed and arranged papers, ledgers, and an adding machine around her.

"Oh, man, how long is that gonna take?"

"As long as it takes. Go to sleep, Baloo."

"I can't sleep with the light on," he whined.

"You can't sleep with the light on?" she said incredulously. "This from the man who can sleep in his hammock, under the Sea Duck's wing with the sun full in his face?"

"Yeah, well, lamplight's different."

Rebecca, pencil in hand, thumbed through her ledger. Then, with a sigh of exasperation, she turned off the lamp right above Baloo's head. The lamp on the other side of the bed was still on.

Grinning, Baloo lay back down. "Thanks, Becky."

"Anything to keep you from complaining. Now, go to sleep!"

A few minutes later, Baloo said, "Why'd ya got so much work anywhoo?"

"I do this every evening. I would do it at my desk in the living room, but Mr. Tannenbaum is asleep on the couch."

"Why not wait 'til ya get to Higher for Hire in the mornin'?" Baloo asked through a yawn.

"You think a cargo service runs itself? I have to do this much work to keep my business in the black. If I get behind even one day, it's a disaster!"

"The disaster is havin' all that money an' not havin' time to enjoy it. You need to relax more, Beckers."

"And you need to leave me alone," she said pointedly. "Goodnight, Baloo."

"Night."

2:00 AM

Rebecca lay in bed, staring with bleary eyes through the darkness at the ceiling. Baloo's sonorous snores filled the air and echoed in her aching head. Fed up, she leaned over the side of the bed and whacked him across the snout with her pillow.

The snoring stopped.

"Victory!" she whispered, curling up under the blankets. She closed her eyes with a smile of contentment.

The snoring started up again, louder this time.

"Oh, this is going to be a long week..." Rebecca groaned. She sandwiched her head between the pillows.

End of part 1