Cloudkicker
"It is only in adventure that some people succeed in knowing themselves-in finding themselves"-Andre Gide
January 1936-
In the aftermath of the fireflight stunt, Foxworth received a visit from the Marshall's Island police and was promptly fined $100 for 'willfully endangering the public'. The pilot had scoffed at the accusation and had allowed himself to be taken to the local jail. Two hours later he was released into the custody of a wealthy sugar baron who needed the pilot to dust his fields. The wealthy elephant didn't need his fields dusted for another week, but it helped that he owned the island's country club of which the mayor was a member. Foxworth collected his things from his jailers, bid them farewell, and drove off with his wealthy employer in an expensive Roars Royce. Two days after the incident, Bushwah and Runway had again skipped town along with Julia and Henry Hopper for parts unknown. Kit on the other hand stayed behind to complete his project.
The young cub pressed the button of his airfoil and instantly the device expanded into its crescent shape. Kit closed the airfoil back into its compact shape then pressed the button and sprung it back into the crescent shape. He did this several times until he was certain that it would open up smoothly every time. Next he grabbed a can of liquid spray called Tufflon. He had acquired it on a flight to Jackomanka aboard a plane that belonged to the Miniversal Corporation. According to paperwork that he had found while rummaging through a box, the Tufflon was designed to be sprayed onto metal surfaces in order to provide additional protection against dents, nicks, and scratches. Now, the cub liberally applied a thick coating to the airfoil. After it had dried in the sun, he again sprayed another coat onto the device. Once it had dried he slammed the airfoil into the concrete floor of the Quonset hut. He picked it up and noted that there were no scratches or dents in the foil. Satisfied that it wouldn't break as easily as Jeff had broken the previous airfoil, he decided that now was the time to test his creation.
A crowd of air hobos had gathered around the Quonset hut and watched what the cub was doing. He stood atop of the building on its flat center and looked out across the area in front of the structure. He walked toward the middle of the roof, turned, and sprinted toward the edge with his open airfoil in hand. The crowd watched as the brown cub leapt from the roof and onto the back of his crescent-shaped craft.
Kit steadied himself on his airfoil and leaned back on it which caused the airfoil's front end to rise and thus slow his descent. He sailed down at an angle that took him 50 feet from the front of the building. His first impression was that operating the device was easy. Unfortunately for him, landing was another matter. As the airfoil made contact with the ground, he lost his balance and pitched forward and face-planted into the grass. He went into a roll and tumbled to a stop with his face to the sky. The air hobos ran to the downed cub and were greeted by his panting laughter. "THAT WAS AWESOME!"
"You're nuts kid! You could've gotten killed!" shouted a short beagle named Tucker.
"Are you alright?" asked a young puma named Mae.
Kit sat up, shook his head, and asked, "How did I look?"
"Like a young fool bent on killin' himself," answered Gummer, "You kids are too reckless."
"Shush Gummer," said Grammy, "I distinctly remember a strapping young bear that had to pick a fight with every Tom, Dick, and Harry that even looked in my direction, so don't you go on about acting recklessly."
"Aw that was different. That was to protect your honor," retorted Gummer.
"Well aren't you just my knight in shining armor. Kit, are you alright? You're bleeding," said Grammy with much concern.
Kit touched his stinging chin and felt blood. He looked down at himself and saw that he had small amounts of blood on his knees and his left elbow. Other than that, he felt fine. "I'm OK Grammy, it's just a flesh wound!" he answered in a cheery voice.
"That's the second time I've seen you jump off of a building Master Criminal," said Sadie as she and Tucker helped Kit to his feet.
"It might not be the last Sadie, I still have to perfect this," Kit replied with a wink.
Over the next week and a half Kit continued with the testing of the airfoil. He received more bumps and bruises and had the wind knocked out of him more than once. He graduated from sailing down from the roof to riding into the air while holding onto a rope attached to Ralph's pickup truck. The old goat was more than happy to assist his little rescuer and had sped down the road with Kit being towed behind him. The cub had soon developed more control over the device and now was able to stand on the airfoil with one leg while the other was seated into a loop in the rope. Each time he tested the airfoil out he was one step closer to reaching out and touching the clouds.
"I've got to get into the air," said Kit as he lay on the sand and stared up into the bright blue sky.
"So why don't you just hop a flight somewhere?" asked Roy Boy who was busy playing around with a crab in a nearby tide pool.
"I'm not planning on leaving but I need to find someone who'd be willing to let me hang out the back of their plane."
"What, no luck finding anyone who'd let you do it?"
"Nope, I asked a couple of pilots and they looked at me like I was crazy and if I hop a ride with them and then decide to do it, well that would just give them an excuse to never let me fly with them again."
"Have you thought about falling?"
"From the back of the plane?"
"Yeah. You know you might not be able to get out of that one if that happens," Roy Boy said as he made a grab for the little crab. He pulled back in alarm as the small crustacean snapped at his fingers. He looked around and hoped that Kit hadn't noticed.
Kit thought about it for a moment: it was a real possibility that he could end up as splatter on the ground somewhere or as shark food in the ocean. Despite the possibilities he had made up his mind to seek out the one pilot who was crazy enough to let someone hang off the end of his plane.
Kit entered the darkly lit Mad Jack's Tavern and looked around for Foxworth. The tavern was named after Captain John "Mad Jack" Marshall, the infamous 18th Century pirate who had set up his hideout on the island which came to bear his name. The establishment was currently filled with dozens of fisherman, pilots, sailors, and dockworkers who were all busy partaking of the various ales and liquors that were on hand. On one wall was a portrait of old Mad Jack himself: In the picture, the black mustached otter stood defiantly in the rain alongside the wheel of his ship with a pistol in one hand and a bottle of rum in the other. Mad Jack's reign of piracy on the high seas lasted 10 years before the Anglian Royal Navy had sent him to the bottom in a clash just south of the island. The pirate was determined to never be taken alive and had rammed his crippled ship the Lorelei right into an Anglian vessel which in turn sank taking most of its crew with it. With his own ship sinking, the story went, he fired his pistol into the Anglian flag that fluttered from the sinking navy ship and reportedly said, "I go happily to the sea in defiance of thee! Mark my words men, I shall sail the sea again!" Ever since, it was said that on moonlit nights the Lorelei and her captain could be seen stalking the waters off of Marshall's Island. Kit smiled at the picture of the pirate and said out loud the old pirate ditty, "Yo-ho yo-ho a pirate's life for me."
Kit continued to gaze around the tavern in search of Foxworth. There were two large rhinoceroses battling in out in an arm wrestling match, a quartet of baboons throwing darts, and a couple of donkeys shooting pool. One donkey, wearing a yellow hat, sat on a chair with a mug of beer in one hand and a cigar in the other. His taller, skinny, red-haired companion was busy making trick shots and smoking away at his stogie. Kit went up to the pair and asked if they had seen Foxworth.
"Excuse me, but have you seen a fox with an Anglian accent and an eyeglass around here?"
The donkey in the chair answered, "No I haven't seen him…HICCUP! Hey Lampy HICCUP! Have you seen Foxworth around?"
"Who's askin' Pinoke?" replied Lampy who was busy eyeing up his next shot, "Screwball in the corner pocket!" Sure enough, the red-haired donkey sunk his ball into the corner pocket.
"This little cub is looking for him," Pinoke looked at Kit and then said to him, "This isn't the kind of place a kid should be in, HICCUP! Listen to your conscience and be a good boy otherwise you'll…HICCUP! End up like me and Lampy."
"And how is that?" asked Kit.
"Spending all of our wages on beer and cigars when we could be doing something with our lives," replied the intoxicated donkey.
"AWWW Pinoke, stop it with the drunken morality speech willya? How do you expect this kid to be a real boy?" said Lampy who put his arm around Kit and continued, "Take it from me kiddo, what a person does with his money is his own business. Don't let anyone tell you what you can and can't do with your life. Besides, my friend can barely handle his beer so don't you go paying any attention to him."
Just then someone tapped Kit's shoulder. Startled, he turned around and saw that Foxworth had tapped him with his swagger stick. The fox peered down and said, "I heard someone was looking for me, although I expected it would be someone from our dear mayor come to chastise me once again for New Year's Eve."
"How'd you get out of that one?"
"My young friend, let's just say that I know people," the fox said with a wink and a thumb in the direction of Pinoke and Lampy, "Now, have these two young gentlemen been trying to sucker you into playing pool for money?"
"Naw Foxworth, I gotta finish schooling Pinoke here before I can hustle anyone else," answered Lampy.
Kit looked over to Pinoke and saw that he had laid his head on a table and passed out. The cub giggled and said to the cue stick-wielding Lampy, "I don't think you have to worry about beating him."
The red haired donkey looked at his passed out friend and let out a hee-haw of laughter and then finished knocking the remaining balls into the pockets, "That boy never could handle his beer!"
"Come now lad, let us talk about why you want to see me," said Foxworth as he led Kit out to a patio table.
Once Kit had explained his idea to Foxworth, he sat back and watched as the fox silently thought the idea over. Finally the pilot spoke, "I understand that you want to test out this device of yours, but I cannot fathom why you actually would want to do this."
"Because I want to be somebody and no one else has done this before. I want to go up into the sky. I want to fly someday and this will be one step closer to me actually flying," answered Kit. Besides, I owe this to my parents.
"You really want to be a pilot?"
"Yes. I think about flying at least every ten seconds Foxworth."
"Then it's a shame that you can't legally fly until you're 16, and this hanging out the back of an aircraft is dangerous and more than likely illegal."
Kit started to look downcast and began to think of who else would allow him to test out his airfoil. Foxworth, thinking that Kit had misunderstood him said, "Airman Kit, report to the airfield at 0500 tomorrow morning with your gear."
Kit sat straight up, smiled at the pilot, and gave a crisp salute, "Yes sir!"
January 7th 1936-
Today was a day that would always be remembered by Kit: it was the first day he flew with his airfoil. Kit had arrived at the airfield with his airfoil and a 40 foot section of rope with a metal bar tied into the end. He wore his well-worn gray pants and the white t-shirt he had received from Grammy and Gummer. Despite the early hour, the young cub was wide awake with excitement. Keeping in military fashion, Foxworth was ten minutes early.
"Good morning Major Foxworth!" Kit said cheerily.
"I see someone has remembered to address me by my proper rank," said the fox that was starting his morning off with a cup of tea.
After Foxworth had finished his tea, he and Kit prepared the airplane for the morning's crop dusting run. Foxworth explained to Kit that the first priority was dusting Mr. Thatcher's sugarcane fields. Mr. Thatcher was the wealthy elephant that had gotten Foxworth out of jail. Once the fields were dusted, the pilot would allow Kit to give his airfoil a try. Now, with the engine running and the wheels blocks removed by a ground crewman ostrich, the Soapwith Snipe began its move down the runway. The little plane sped down the pavement and climbed into the sky in the direction of rising sun.
Foxworth reverted to his old Great War self and pretended to strafe imaginary enemy soldiers as he sprayed the fields. Kit on the other hand thought about the parents he never knew. He knew that Kieran and Katie McCloud had been working on the airfoil before their deaths and had to the best of his knowledge never built a prototype. Now he was getting ready to test out their vision. He realized that his feelings were mixed over his parents. In the orphanage he had often wondered about who and where his parents were. With the knowledge that they had passed away, Kit realized that he couldn't really miss people he never knew. He felt guilty for this line of thought, but he had learned to make his way with little help from anyone. Still there were times when he longed to have had a chance to have known his parents. Had they lived, his entire life would be different. He would probably in school and living in a house instead of being an air hobo. Nevertheless, here he was getting ready to put his parent's invention to use. He knew deep down inside that they would want him to take this important step. He was going to become the world's first air boarder for his parents and for himself.
Kit shimmied down the tail of the Snipe with his airfoil in his shirt and the tow line in hand. Foxworth had the plane flying at 85 mph at an altitude of 300 feet. Even though Kit was just moments from using the airfoil he was nervous. As he got to the end of the tail section, he took a deep breath and said, "No guts, no glory." The he rolled off the tail. The feeling of weightlessness was at first disorientating, but the cub brushed it off and pulled out his airfoil. He pressed the button and the foil sprung into its wedge shape. Kit fitted his feet onto it and leaned back on the tow rope. The wind buffeted him and caused him to flail about in the air as he fought for control of the airfoil.
Ahead in his seat, Foxworth glanced over his shoulder and saw the boy fighting to maintain control of his newfangled invention, "God help me if that lad falls I'll never hear the end of it from the mayor."
Kit continued to struggle with the airfoil as he swayed from side to side behind the plane. He hadn't anticipated the force of the wind in relation to his small body and he had begun to seriously rethink his predicament. Finally Kit managed to steady himself by leaning back on the airfoil like he had when he was being towed behind Ralph's pickup. Now this is more like it! He thought as he now had gained control over the device.
Foxworth had continued to look behind him at Kit to ensure that the cub was still there. He was surprised to see the lad holding steady on his airfoil and waving to him. Kit now pointed up into the sky to let the pilot know to take him higher. The fox shook his head and then took the plane higher into the sky.
It was now 6:30 in the morning and Grammy, Gummer, and several others in the camp were up and about. They heard the sound of an approaching airplane and looked up into the sky. An amazing sight greeted them: a small plane with a young bear cub sailing on the thin air above them! They watched as the plane banked left and the cub waved down to the crowd below.
"Oh my goodness! That's Kit!" Grammy exclaimed.
"That kid is going to get himself hurt!" said Gummer who then smiled in wonder at the daring young boy.
"He's actually gone and done it," said Sadie as she rushed out of the building and saw the sight in the air.
"Way to go Kit!" Eddie yelled as he pumped his fist into the sky.
The pilot took the plane higher into the sky and entered the clouds. The cub wasn't quite prepared for the rapid ascent into the air and was surprised to find himself entering some low hanging clouds. A cold misting of suspended water molecules glided across him in defiance of the warm tropical weather. Here in the clouds it was cooler and coupled with the wind-chill from the plane's movement he found himself getting a chill. Where others may have been chilled to the bone from being inside a cloud, Kit was exhilarated. Never in his short life had he felt anything like this. It was like a dream come true. Here he was, a 10 year old cub soaring on the silver-tinged clouds. It was like something out of a fantasy story. Kit yelled out in joy as he danced across the heavens with a smile on his youthful face. He knew in his heart that his parents were there with him now in the clouds. He could feel their presence as they watched their son skip along the clouds. Kit knew that his parents would always live on in his heart, but he decided that the knowledge of his parents and the origin of the airfoil would remain a secret locked away inside him. He felt that it was his way of keeping their spirit alive. He felt that he couldn't share his past with anyone yet. Not Sadie or Eddie, or even Grammy and Gummer. Someday maybe, he would share his past with someone special, but for the time being he would live with this on his own. For now Kit lived his dream as he soared the sky.
A triumphant Kit entered the air hobo camp with a smile on his face and his airfoil tucked under his arm. A crowd of air hobos ran out to greet the cub and big Knute the polar bear hoisted the cub onto his shoulders. Everyone was asking him questions and cheering him on.
"WOW! That was amazing Kit!"
"I've never seen anything like it before!"
"You got some guts kiddo!"
"Were you scared?"
"What was it like up there?"
Kit smiled and blushed as he was inundated with praise. Knute lifted him off of his shoulders and placed him on the ground. Sadie ran up to him and put her arms on his shoulders and said, "You could've been killed! Are you nuts?" Then she threw her arms around him and hugged him tight, "I'm so happy for you Kit!"
Kit blushed again and said, "You worried about me?"
"Of course, that's what friends do."
"Child, you threw us for a loop but it was amazing to see you do that," said Grammy, "It looked like you were kicking the clouds."
"Yeah you whipper-snapper," said Gummer, "You were like a regular little cloudkicker up there."
"Say, that has a nice ring to it Gummer," commented Grammy.
Kit thought about it, Cloudkicker, Kit McCloud. Maybe there's a connection, like it was meant to be or something. Kit McCloud-kicker. Kit Cloudkicker. I like that sound of that.
As if she could read his mind Sadie said, "Well it looks like I'll have to call you Kit Cloudkicker instead of Master Criminal from now on."
Kit thought about it again, they can call me Cloudkicker, but I'll always remember that I was Kit McCloud first and they don't need to know that about me. They don't need to know my past, that's mine. I can be whoever I want to be to them. Satisfied with this thought Kit said, "It was great up there, but it was cold too. I need to get me something warm to wear when I go up next time."
Hearing this Roy Boy sprinted away saying, "I'll be right back!" He soon returned with a small, faded green sweater that had a faint yellow patch on the right elbow. "Here, put this on. I outgrew it but it should fit you just fine."
Kit took the green sweater and pulled it on over his white, high-collared shirt. The sweater was a little large for him but he knew he'd grow into it. "Thanks a lot Roy Boy," he said.
A little while later Kit passed by a window on one of the site's smaller buildings and took a look at his reflection. There he was; a young brown bear cub in a faded green sweater complete with a light yellow patch on the right shoulder, his white shirt collar visible and his airfoil in hand. He folded his arms across his chest and with a serious expression on his face he contemplated the image in the glass: Kit Cloudkicker, Yeah…
February 1936-
"Hey there, need someone to help you with your cargo Albert?"
Albert spun around and saw a young brown bear cub in a green sweater that was leaning up against the side of a post and playing with a red yo-yo.
"Kit? Is that you?"
"Sure is Albert."
Albert stared in amazement at the little cub that wasn't as little as he was months ago when he last saw him. Sure the boy looked thinner, but from the way he carried himself he seemed more grown up.
"How have you been Kit? It's great to see you after all this time!" Albert said and immediately shook Kit's hand.
"It's been something Albert."
"Well, seeing as yer offerin' to help with the cargo then maybe you'd like to fly to Cucamonga with me?"
"Sure thing Albert… say do you want to see something neat?" asked Kit with a sly grin.
The twin-engine SP-19 Cormorant sped across the sky at 3,500 feet and a speed of 125 mph. Albert opened the cargo door and couldn't believe that he had let Kit talk him into letting him hang from the back of his plane. The cub had excitedly told him about his invention and how he had been using it recently in order to 'cloudsurf' as he called it. Albert was feeling a little nervous at the prospect of a 10 year old skiing behind his plane, but he finally relented and let the cub tie his tow rope into the inside of the plane. Albert looked behind him and over the boxes of canned goods and saw the cub jump backwards from the cargo ramp and into the sky. "That kid is crazy! Heck I must be crazy for letting him do this!"
As Kit jumped into the air he deployed his airfoil, took a stance on the device, and let himself be pulled behind the speeding plane. The wind whipped through his fur and he shouted in enjoyment as the adrenalin coursed through his veins.
The four engine TransOcean airliner was currently flying at an altitude of 3,500 feet which was well below the plane's maximum altitude. This was due to a safety precaution against flying through the storm clouds that were above the plane. There were 38 passengers and a 4 person crew aboard the plane which had lifted off from Freeport en route to Cape Suzette. The plane was scheduled to make two short stops and wouldn't land in Cape Suzette until early evening.
Onboard the airliner Julius F. Witherspoon was busy reading the financial section of the Freeport Press when the stewardess came up to him.
"Would you care for a something to drink sir? Perhaps a cocktail?" the ferret stewardess asked.
"No thank you miss, I'm fine," he replied as he went back to his paper. Suddenly movement in the corner of his right eye caught his attention. He glanced to his right and saw a twin-engine plane flying with a bear cub being towed behind on a rope. The cub was holding onto the tow rope with one hand and waving at the airliner with the other. He went back to reading his paper and then the realization of what he had just seen hit him, "No, it couldn't be." He looked back out the window and all he saw was empty air. He knew he had seen a plane towing a bear cub, but that was ridiculous! He looked around and raised his hand and said, "Uh stewardess? On second thought I think I'll have that drink!"
March 1936-
"Hey Cloudkicker, I got something to tell you," Sadie said as sat down next to him on the beach.
"What's on your mind?" Kit asked her as he noted the seriousness in her voice.
"Remember on Christmas when I told you about going back to my family?"
"Yeah," he answered then said, "You're going back?"
"I think it's time for me to go home."
Kit was dumbstruck. He knew that Sadie had mentioned that she was thinking of going home, but he hadn't actually thought she would go. She saw the look of surprise on the cub's face and socked him lightly on the shoulder.
"Don't get all sad on me Cloudkicker, it's definitely not your style."
"Well when are you going?"
"In a couple of days, Eddie is going with me."
"Eddie? You actually got him to go home with you?"
"Yeah. He said he hasn't been home in a while so we both decided that we'd head back to Usland together and see where it goes. I think he's beginning to realize that the air hobo life isn't permanent."
Kit thought about what he had been told. The two teenagers had become quiet close in the past few months and it made sense that they'd want to stay together. He was just surprised to see that the two of them were going to be leaving the air hobo life behind…as well as leaving him behind.
"That's great Sadie I'm glad that you got Eddie to go with you. I couldn't imagine him without you. I'm going to be leaving too," he added.
"You are? Where too?"
"I don't know yet. I've been in Marshall's Island too long and I think it's time that I got out and went somewhere else."
"Kit, are you upset about Eddie and I leaving?" Sadie asked quietly.
"No!" he answered, although he immediately regretted his tone. "I mean, I'm gonna miss you guys, but I know that you've wanted to go back to your family. I just think that maybe I'll give the air hobo life some more time you know? I think being on my own can be good for me."
Sadie took a deep breath, looked Kit in the eye, and said, "Don't spend all your time being an air hobo and none of your time being a kid."
A week later Kit stood on the tarmac of the airfield with Sadie and Eddie as they got ready to leave the island. The night before Grammy and Gummer had presided over a dinner in honor of the two teens. Bushwah, Runway, Julia and Henry Hopper had returned two days earlier and had joined the group in seeing the teens off. Word was going around the camp that a federal official named Witherspoon was planning on flying out to Marshall's Island soon to flush out all of the air hobos. It had been decided that everyone would leave the camp in the next few days, Grammy and Gummer included. The air hobo patriarchs had decided that they would like to fly out to the Far East and jokingly said that they would hope to find the mythical city of Panda-La. Nevertheless it was determined that another air hobo camp would be established sometime soon in a new location.
"Well Kit this is it," Sadie said with slightly teary eyes.
Eddie stuck his hand out to Kit who shook it and said, "Think you'll deal with not being an air hobo?"
Eddie looked at Sadie and said with a smile, "I have a feeling that I'll be just fine. You take care of yourself OK kiddo, or should I say Cloudkicker?"
Kit smiled at the teenage boy and then said to Sadie, "It looks like you two had better get going before you change your minds."
Sadie leaned over to hugged Kit and nuzzled his neck and said, "You know Kit, there's been something that I've been wanting to do before I go."
"Whats that," he asked.
"THIS!" she said as she and Eddie immediately began to tickle him. Kit howled with laughter and squirmed in mock-terror. "You didn't think you'd get away that easily did you?" Sadie hissed playfully.
"HAHAHAHA OK OK OK STOP! PLEASE! HAHAHAHA!" Kit laughed.
The teens stopped their assault and Sadie said to him, "I'll miss you Kit, but remember what I said about being a kid OK? Don't grow up too fast on me."
With that she gave Kit a final squeeze and then she and Eddie climbed aboard the cargo plane and headed off into the sunset. Kit watched the plane grow smaller and finally disappear into the distance and with a heavy heart he walked away.
April to December 1936-
The next nine months went in a blur for Kit. A week after Sadie and Eddie left for Usland, Kit and the others abandoned the camp. The assembly of air hobos scattered to the four winds and just in time too. Three days after the camp folded, Witherspoon and a team of federal agents came to evict the squatters, but to their dismay (and much to Witherspoon's embarrassment) found the camp deserted. This would be a sure sign that he'd wind up sitting in an office as a desk jockey now instead of being a field agent. A hand written note had been left for him on the door of the Quonset hut. Witherspoon looked at the small note and read it. The words on it made his blood boil.
Dear Mr. Witherspoon,
You missed me…AGAIN! Good luck finding me!
Sincerely,
CK
Witherspoon turned bright red with rage and tore the note off of the door. They knew we were coming! How did they know! And who in the heck is this CK person! He thought.
"Is everything OK boss?" asked one of Witherspoon's men who just happened to be one of the two agents who had pursued Kit in Tidewater Beach.
Witherspoon snapped at the agent, "Does it look like everything is OK to you?"
Witherspoon's men realized that he had been made to look like a fool by the air hobos and now he was in danger of being chastised by his superiors. A couple of them snickered at the prospect.
Just as Witherspoon was looking stupid in front of his men, Kit was sailing through the skies behind Albert and the Montanya Express. Kit had flown to neighboring Donavan's Reef and then hopped a flight with Albert to Crackyertoa. The Moose had finally warmed to the idea of letting Kit cloudsurf behind him and the cub was most grateful to his friend for this.
"Just don't fall off OK Kit?" Albert had asked as soon as Kit had asked him to let him out the back.
"You don't have to worry about me Albert!" Kit said right before he had ran to the back of the cargo plane.
On May 5th Kit celebrated his 11th birthday alone in a small malt shop in New Fedora. The cub slurped his Frosty Pep dessert and looked out at the heavy rains that had come in with the tropical depression. He had been away from the other air hobos for a month now and had reverted back to his pre-air hobo camp life. He was taking odd jobs, moving around constantly and had spent more than one night sleeping on a park bench. He traveled light and had minimal belongings and had sewn pockets into the inside of his green sweater which used them to keep his stuff in. A large pocket had been fitted into the back of the sweater for his trusty airfoil.
He felt that he would do just fine on his own although he missed the other air hobos, but he kept his feelings to himself. What good was moping around and missing someone? It seemed to him that everyone he had gotten close with always went their own way or he had went his own way. He reasoned that if he didn't have any attachments then he could do what he wanted. Besides, he still had his goal to graduate from air boarder to full-fledged pilot. Maybe if he could find a pilot who would be willing to teach him to fly. He was a good navigator and had helped pilots out with their cargo runs so he felt it was just a matter of time before he met a someone who would teach him to fly.
"Hey kid, what's on your mind?" asked the skinny stork behind the counter.
"Nothing much."
"You look a little too serious to be enjoying that dessert."
"I'm just thinking is all."
"What about, if you don't mind me asking?"
"Flying," Kit responded matter-of-factly.
"You want to fly kid?" the stork asked with a chuckle.
"I need to fly. It's what I think about."
Kit's travels took him from places as varied as the frigid Arctic outpost of Tundra City to the warm beaches of San't Diego on the west coast of Usland. He spent time living in different places and earned money by assisting pilots and longshoremen with their cargo loads. He had decided to keep a low profile wherever he went to avoid any orphan chasing officials. In doing so he stuck to the more downtrodden areas of towns and cities and had more than a few run-ins with nefarious individuals. He narrowly avoided being stuck in the Banana Republic when the country's president was overthrown in a coup by the head of the armed forces, he helped deliver cargo to the wealthy nation of Klopstokia , managed to get away from the vicious pygmies of Patagoita, and sweated his tail off while unloading cargo in a remote outpost in the Mogabi Desert. All through this he forced himself to remain tough in order to avoid being taken advantage of by some of the shady people he ran across. The Depression had seen the rise of many con artists, criminal, and other assorted lowlifes who preyed on the naïve and fool-hearty so he did his best to protect himself from these elements and began to trust people a lot less than before. He knew that the world was a tough place full of tough people and the only way he'd survive on his own was to be tough. The cheery cub that the air hobo community had known had been replaced by the live-by-your-wits street-smart kid that he had been before he met them.
Mid-January 1937-
Kit's life forever changed on a flight from Krungypoor to Freeport. He was flying with a friendly dog pilot named Steve in a four-engine cargo plane that was laden with several pallets of merchandise. He was a little apprehensive to be going back to Freeport and wasn't sure what he'd do when he got there. He thought about going back to the Home to see Rhett and Trevor, but he figured he'd be apprehended on the spot and forced to live in the orphanage again or worse, he could end up in Marshland. He could stay in the harbor area and maybe avoid being seen by people who knew him, but he knew that his best bet would be to stay near the plane and wait for another pilot to fly him out as soon as possible. As he was thinking this through he failed to notice the shadow that blanketed the plane.
Steve looked up and said, "I thought that the weather reports said it would be clear skies around Freeport."
High above the plane a large craft moved closer its target. Its bomb bay doors opened and large grapnel hooks were fired at the cargo plane wrapping themselves around its wings.
"WHAT WAS THAT?" yelled Kit as he looked up at the aircraft's ceiling.
"If it's what I think it is Kit then were in trouble," answered Steve with a tension-filled voice.
As he finished his sentence the engines were hit by gunfire which caused them to sputter and die. A great lurching motion threw the two of them forward as something dragged upward. Soon the movement stopped and the sound of hydraulics filled the plane as their captors closed the bomb bay do. The plane swayed forward and came to a stop. Kit and Steve looked out of the cockpit window and saw a huge hangar like area that stretched far in front of them.
"Kit hide, NOW!" shouted Steve as he reached for a nearby crowbar.
Kit did as told and scurried toward the cargo crates and lay on the floor. Steve slowly walked to the center of the plane and prepared for what he knew was going to happen next. A hissing noise started up and a blade of blue-white fire erupted through the door cutting through the locking mechanism. The flame disappeared as the cutting torch was switched off and suddenly the door swung open. Kit peered over a crate and saw the open doorway. Bright light flooded into the cabin and for a moment he couldn't make anything out, then a figure stepped into the light and all Kit could make out was a tall silhouette.
Then the figure spoke in a heavy accent, "Ahhhhhhh greetings my wonderful hijacked-typed person, it is I…"
