THICKER THAN WATER
Part II
Kit lay in his bed, staring silently at the ceiling and clutching the bomber jacket that Baloo had given him. The green sweater lay next to him. He put the jacket down and picked up the sweater.
"Run, boy! Get out!"
A tear formed in his eye, and he tightly squeezed it out. He rolled over to stare again at the dusty leather jacket.
"You can't tell me what to do! YOU'RE NOT MY DAD!"
Sitting up suddenly with a snarl, he angrily tossed the sweater across the room, where it struck the dresser, knocking his model plane off with a crash, and fell to the floor on top of it. He grabbed the jacket and tossed it on top of the heap.
"How many more people are you going to hurt, Cloudkicker?" he muttered bitterly, hiding his face in his hands. "A real bundle of joy, you are."
The sun shone brightly in through the front windows at Higher for Hire an another warm, bright day dawned in Cape Suzette. Rebecca had arrived early, and was already seated at her desk shuffling papers. Wildcat was noisily pounding away at something out by the dock. Molly was on the floor, at the base of Rebecca's desk, happily drawing in a "Danger Woman" coloring book. And Baloo sat at the table, absently stirring a bowl of oatmeal and staring at the table. Finally, he pushed aside the bowl and grabbed a donut, swallowing it in one bite.
"Still no Kit, huh?" Rebecca asked, sounding worried.
Baloo looked over with pleading in his eyes. "He didn't sleep much again last night, Becky. These nightmares are really botherin' him. I heard him tossin' and turnin' all night, and he was cryin' for a while too."
"Oh, Baloo!" Rebecca whispered. "That's just terrible."
"What's a nightmare?" Molly asked brightly.
"It's just a bad dream, honey." her mother cooed. "You have them sometimes, remember?"
"Why's Kit have night...mares, Mommy?"
Rebecca looked over and Baloo and sighed. "We all do, Molly." the pilot said glumly. "But then you wake up, and everyhting's OK." He looked down. "Everything's OK." he whispered.
"He'll cheer up Baloo, after - after - you know."
A door opened above them, and Kit slowly walked down the stairs. He was wearing an old eggshell-white seaman's jersey that Baloo recognized from the old "Baloo's Air Service" days - it had been here longer than he had! On Kit, it came down almost to the knees. The cub was carrying his old green sweater.
"Morning Baloo, Miz Cunningham" the boy said quietly. "Boy, you sure have been working a lot lately, Becky - Miz Cunningham"
"That's running a business, Kit." she answered, forcing a smile. "No rest for the weary. How - how are you feeling?"
"I'm OK." he said, not looking as though he believed it. He approached Molly and knelt down next to her. "Hey, Short stuff." he said.
"Hi, Kit!" she yelled gleefully, holding her arms out for a hug.
The cub complied. "Say, Molly - I was thinking, this doesn't fit me anymore, so I want you to have it. It's an official navigator's sweater."
"Kit!" Rebecca said, surprised.
Molly gleefully grabbed the sweater from Kit's hands. "Oh, thankyou thankyou thankyou!"
Baloo looked over with a frown. "L'il Britches, you sure you want to -"
"It's OK, Papa Bear. It's just an old sweater anyway." the boy said, standing, as Molly threw the sweater over her head. It nearly dragged on the floor as you ran about the room.
"Oh Molly, you look ridiculous!" her mother reproached.
"It's OK, Miz Cunningham, she'll grow into it." Kit said, looking sadly on as the girl frolicked around the room.
Molly ran back up to Kit and grabbed him by the base of his jersey. "Can I be a navigator right now, Kit? Can I?"
Kit smiled down at her. "Not yet, Molly! I had to wear that sweater for a long time before I became a navigator. You've gotta grow into it first. And practice."
"Awww, OK." the yellow cub grumbled. She plopped back down to the floor, her new sweater pillowing around her, and resumed her coloring.
Baloo stood and walked over to Kit, putting his arm around the boy's shoulder. "Y'know kid, I been thinkin, we ain't been out to eat fer a while. Howzabout we go to the Runway Cafe tonight? It's yer favorite."
"Sure Baloo." the cub said, smiling weakly. "Sounds great. I'm gonna take a walk, be back in a while." The boy slumped out the front door, closing it quietly behind him. Out on the dock, Wildcat continued pounding away at his morning's project. Molly happily colored away at her book. Baloo and Rebecca stared at each other, each wearing a look of concern that was reflected in the other's face.
Don Karnage quietly walked through the darkness, slowly approaching the buildings he knew so well, so infamously. He had changed into a black shirt and pants, and wore a small sword strapped to his waist, a purchase made in the finest smithy in Cape Suzette. A small indulgence, he thought to himself, but style counts for so much...
He approached the familiar main building and listened. All was dark inside, and he heard no noise. Stealthily, he climbed the outside of the building and grasped the rain gutter, pulling himself up with a grunt to the crow's nest that was the highest portion of the structure.
He peered in through the window - nothing. He eased the window open - careless, not to lock it, yes-no? - and pulled himself inside. He found himself standing in a bedroom. Surrounding him were two beds, a large one and a small one, and a dresser. No sounds were audible inside the building.
"Ah yes, we have tracked the rabbit to it's very lair, yes-no?" he whispered, with a toothy grin. "But the prey has had the bad courteousness to not being at home, no?" He approached the small bed. "But so much the better, yes. Perhaps the wolf shall leave a small token of his visit - to not do so would be most - unguestly."
The red wolf reached into a pocket and pulled out a strip of cloth - a remnant of his now destroyed blue Captain's uniform that he carried to remind him of his ultimate goal. Teeth flashing in the moonlight, he ripped the cloth in half, sticking half of it back in his pocket. He drew his sword, and held it up to his thumb. Grinning, he ran his thumb along the edge, causing a stream of blood to begin flowing. He wiped the blood onto the blue cloth repeatedly, until a large smear of red blotted the surface.
"Just a small taste, yes? A small taste of what is to come." He pulled back the covers on the small bed, set the cloth down and replaced the covers over it. He retreated out the window, pausing whilst halfway through it to stare back into the room.
"Now you shall know, yes? You shall know what your fate will be. The fear is the most delicious part of death, is it not? It would not be right for me to deprive you of that, small one." He looked down at the back of his hand - an ugly scar marred the surface. He looked back at the bed, a mad hatred glowing in his eyes. "Nor for me to complete the job too quickly. I shall allow you to savor the experience! It will be all that you deserve. Excellamundo!" The wolf shimmied down the side of the building and dissapeared into the night.
Kit tried to put on a good front for Baloo at the Runway Cafe. The big bear was trying so _hard_ - he just didn't understand. He never _could_ understand. But then, the Runway WAS Kit's favorite restaurant, and Baloo was doing his best.
Baloo was unusually bubbly over dinner - maybe he was trying to compensate for Kit's melancholy, the boy speculated. As the bear and cub ate (burgers, fries, _and_ chili dogs - Baloo had spared no expense), planes of all shapes and sizes passed scant yards over the restaurant roof as they approached Cape Suzette airfield for their landings. The walls were adorned with photos of legendary flying aces and aircraft memoribilia. You had to give the place this much - for a flying buff, the atmosphere was unbeatable.
They stopped for ice cream on the way home, and walked slowly through Cape Park, licking their cones and talking. Baloo mostly handled that part. "Say Kid, howdya like to maybe go to Winger City next week? We could finally check out that aviation museum you've been wantin' to see!"
"Baloo!" Kit said, rolling his eyes. "You _know_ we don't have any vacation coming! Becky'll never let us take time off to go to Winger City! It's a six hour flight!"
"Hey!" Baloo said, draping an arm around the cub's shoulder. "If I go to my boss and say I wanna take my kid to Winger City, she'll let me do it!"
"What did you say?" Kit said sharply.
"You heard me. If I tell Miz Manager that I want to take you to Winger City, I think she'll let me go."
Kit thought for a moment, then decided not to pursue the matter. It was just a phrase, is all - just a way of saying things. 'My kid' - what did that mean anyway? "I'd love to go, Papa Bear - but please don't get into trouble over me. I don't have to go right now -we'll get our chance."
"Don't be such a danged _adult_, L'il Britches!" Baloo said, sounding slightly annoyed.
"One of us has to be!" the cub thought.
Baloo hugged the boy closer and they walked in silence for a while. Clearly, the big bear was feeling edgy about something - Kit knew him well enough to see that. He was being so - clingy. Not that Kit minded. "Besides," he reasoned - "the way you've been acting, of course he's freaked out!"
They emerged from the park and walked along the harbor, Higher for Hire only a few dozen yards away now. "Kit, just to letcha know - I have an early appointment tomorrow in town, so I'm gonna be gone by the time yer up. I have to - get my liscence renewed."
"Didn't you just do that?" the cub asked.
"Yeah well, that was a few months ago, Britches, and I'm due up again. Red tape, huh?" They walked the last few steps up to the door. "Home again, home again, jiggety jig!"
"Yep, home." the boy answered.
Baloo was rattling around in the kitchen downstairs as Kit pulled the jersey over his head and slipped into his nightshirt. He looked at the jersey and sighed. Somehow, it just didn't seem - right.
"Hey, Kiddo - you wanna sandwich? I got olive loaf and peanut butter!" Baloo yelled from downstairs.
Kit smiled. Two hours after dinner and an hour after ice cream! The bear was incorrigible. "No thanks, Papa Bear. I'm headed to bed!" he yelled down.
"Yer loss, slim! Doobie-doobie-do-wah-wah, be-dooby-dooby-dooby-dowah!" the pilot sang gleefully to himself as he noisily prepapred the sandwich, prompting another grin from the boy. He walked over to the bed and pulled the covers back.
And stood, jaw slack, speechlessly staring at what he saw.
"Impossible!" he mumbled, reaching down to pick up the strip of reddened cloth, then dropping it in disgust as he felt the still wet blood.
Again, cautiously this time, he reached down and picked up the cloth, this time by the corner. He stared at it wordlessly for a moment, then sat, dazed, on the edge of the bed.
"He's never gonna leave me alone, is he Baloo? He'll never be satisfied until he's
rid of me."
With a start, Kit heard Baloo approaching. Hurriedly, he tossed the bloodied cloth under the bed and wiped his hand on the sheet. He sat facing away from the door, tyring desperately to control the shaking that had overcome his body.
Baloo bounced into the room, whistling. He set the sandwich down on his bedside table and quickly changed into his nightshirt. He slipped his sleeping cap on his head and sat back in bed, grabbing the sandwich and taking a huge bite. He glanced over at Kit, who still sat facing away from him silently. "Kfid, fyou okfay? Fyer awful quiet offrer fhere." he mumbled with a spray of bread crumbs.
"I'm fine." Kit replied in a husky voice.
"You sure? You sound funny. Somethin' the matter?" The big bear was genuinely concerned now.
With a deep breath, the cub turned, and lay back on the bed, smiling weakly at Baloo. "I'm fine, Papa Bear. My stomach's just a little sore. I guess I ate too much." He closed his eyes tightly. Baloo stared at him for a moment, shrugged, and returned to his sandwich. "Would you lock the window, Papa Bear?" the boy said in a voice just above a whisper, without opening his eyes. With another worried glance at Kit, Baloo complied.
It was a brilliant, crystal clear night in Cape Suzette. A crescent moon hung beautifully in the cloudless sky, accompanied by a thousand shimmering stars. Crickets and frogs serenaded the planes and boats as they gently rocked in the harbor. A light breeze occasionally shifted a few leaves on the grass, but for the most part the night air was still. In his shed, Wildcat lay snoring gently, a smile on his face as he enjoyed some pleasant dream.
Kit thought that the night was never going to end. For him, it had been a waking nightmare of ghosts and visions, screaming and clutching at him - unwilling to let him go.
"Where're your parents, Cloudkicker? How come you live in that place?"
"They're - they're dead."
"Ha ha! Parents are dead! Parents are dead! Little orphan Cloudkicker!"
He rolled over, put his pillow over his head, anything to chase away the demons that taunted him. His sheets were soaked with sweat. He glanced over at Baloo, hoping to find some reassurance from the gently snoring figure, but it only brought him more mocking accusations.
"Run, boy! Get out!"
The old man was screaming at him, he wouldn't stop! The old man was screaming at him, and his eyes - his eyes were yellow flames, burning holes in Kit in the dark....
"Get out!"
The cub tossed and turned in bed, trying to clear his mind. Tears streamed silently down his cheeks onto the bedclothes, mingling with his sweat and the drops of wolf's blood there. He pulled his head out from under his pillow and stared at Baloo. The pilot slept on his back, mouth slightly agape and a beatific expression on his face.
"Not you too!" Kit sobbed silently towards the other bed. "Not you too. Never!" He grabbed the bedclothes tightly in his fists and screwed his eyes shut - tightly, painfully shut, trying to will himself not to cry aloud, the tears flowing uncontrollably now. He rolled over and buried his face in the pillow. "Don't let him hear you! Don't let him hear you!"
When Kit opened his eyes, he winced in pain from the crust of dried, hardened tears that had held them shut. He peeked at the window and squinted. The sun was coming up.
Baloo was quietly getting dressed, sitting on the other bed. Kit stared at him, silently, saying nothing. As though aware he was being observed, Baloo spun around. Quickly, Kit closed his eyes. The big bear shrugged, grinned, and resumed tying his necktie. Kit opened his eyes to slits and watched him again.
Finally, the bear, after much fumbling and quiet cursing, had managed to get the tie fastened around his neck in some semblance of order. He stood up, grabbed his rarely worn fedora hat off of the dresser and planted it atop his head. He grabbed a sheath of papers and headed for the door, Kit silently watching his back through slitted eyes.
When he reached the door, the bear hesitated, turned and looked back at the boy. Wordlessly, he spun on his heels and tiptoed over to the cub's bed. He stood for a moment, knelt, and gently kissed Kit on the forehead. Then he turned, whistling softly, and was gone.
Kit opened his eyes wide for a moment, then screwed them shut, squeezing a tear out of each. "G'bye, Papa Bear." he whispered.
Rebecca Cunningham hung up the phone, cursing silently. Another client wanted same day delivery. She was beginning to regret that ad she'd placed in the "Gazette" - same day was fine, but when _every_ client asked for it, it was next to impossible to deliver, as her pilot often reminded her.
Molly ran around the room, only her head and the tips of her feet visible in a sea of green wool. "Look mommy, I'm an airplane!" she squeaked, spreading her arms wide. Rebecca laughed at the sight.
"Mommy, where's Baloo?" the yellow cub piped, pausing for breath.
"He had an important meeting today, Sweetie. He had to leave early."
"Mommy, where's Kit?" Molly asked impatiently.
"I think he's still asleep, Molly honey."
"Can I wake him up, Mommy? _We're_ not asleep!"
"I know Honey, but it's his day off. Let him rest. Navigators work really hard. If you want to be one you'll have to work hard too, and get tired. So let Kit sleep, okay Sweetie?"
"OK, Mommy." Molly said glumly.
From the top of the stairs, Kit listened, and peered around the corner to see Molly joyfully romping around the room, his old sweater draped over her like a blanket. Rebecca stopped her work periodically to laugh at the yellow cub's antics. Kit slipped back into the bedroom and sat on the floor, closing his eyes.
"Unless you return the stone, you will never see your friends again!"
"Oh, this is all _my_ fault!"
Kit choked back a sob, and ran his hand across his eyes, wiping the tears away. He stood up and walked over to the desk, where he grabbed a pen and paper.
Molly had been playing by herself for a long time. She was sick of it. She waited until her Mom was very involved in a telephone call, and quietly snuck up the stairs to Kit and Baloo's bedroom. She peeked her head in through the door, and was surprised to see that there was no one inside.
"Mom-mee!" she hollered down the stairs. "Kit's not here!"
Rebecca finished her phone call and walked over to the base of the stairs. "Who told you that you could go into Kit's bedroom, young lady? Get down here right now!"
"But Mom-mee! I wanna play! Where's Kit?"
With a sigh, Rebecca climbed the stairs and peeked into the bedroom. Sure enough, the boy wasn't there. Odd. Maybe Baloo had decided to take him with to the meeting? She hoped not - she wasn't sure just how the Child Welfare people would react to _that_. "I guess he had something to do this morning, Honey. Here, let me close the window - there's a chill in here."
The offices of the Cape Suzette Branch of The Greater Usland Department of Child Welfare were located in the old, grey State office building on Suzette Circle, a dead-end street on the outskirts of downtown. Baloo looked at the outside of the building, that same sick feeling growing in the pit of his stomach that he'd been getting ever since he'd been a boy, where authority figures were concerned. Why, his old Uncle Moe used to say...
"Concentrate, Baloo!" he mumbled to himself as he found himself daydreaming. "Don't screw this one up. Gotta do it for the kid." With a deep breath, he mounted the steps and entered the building.
"Pretty grim place." he thought to himself. "Kinda fits the subject matter, I guess." He found the building directory and scanned it. "Child Welfare Services - Fifth floor." he said aloud. Whistling to relax himself, he pressed the elevator button and waited.
Seemingly hours later, the doors opened and he stepped aboard. He pressed "5" and the elevator began to slowly creep upwards. Each floor seemed to pass in it's own eternity, as Baloo began to feel that lump in his stomach growing to sea monster-sized proportions. A bead of sweat trickled from his brow and he wiped it away absently. Finally, the elevator reached it's destination.
Baloo stepped out into a dimly lit hallway. In a small alocve to his left, a receptionist sat, looking bored, at a metal desk. It was early and the office wasn't yet busy - most of the doors were open and only a few people milled about. The big bear nervously approached the desk and removed his hat, which he held in front of him, shifting it from hand to hand.
Without moving her head, the receptionist, a young red bear in her late 20's, turned her eyes in Baloo's general direction. "May I help you?" she said absebntly.
"Um, yeah, that is...I have an appointment. With Mr. Bossy. At 8:00. In this office. That is - "
She held up her hand to silence the pilot and looked at a datebook in front of her. "You're Mr. Baloo?"
"Oh! Sorry, yep, that's me, ol' Baloo. King o' the skies, they call me-"
"Yes, Mr. Baloo." she interrupted. "You're his first appointment. You may go right in, it's door 512, right over there." She pointed to an office across the hall.
"Thanks, lady." he said, and shuffled anxiously over to the office. The door was open, but Baloo knocked anyway. An officious looking grey elephant sat behind the desk, wearing a brown suit and white and black dotted bow tie. He looked up, and waved Baloo in. "Yes, Mr. Baloo I assume? Come in. I see you're a few minutes early-"
"I-I'm sorry!" Baloo stammered. "I c-could come back, if-"
The elephant smiled tightly, standing to offer his hand across the desk. "Nonsense. Please do sit down. My name is Hugo, Hugo Bossy. Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Baloo."
Baloo surreptitiously (he hoped) wiped his damp palm on his back and shook Bossy's hand as he sat in the chair. "Real pleasure, Mr. Bossy, sir."
"May I offer you a cup of coffee?"
"Uh, no, no thanks. I don't think I'd better right now, just the same."
The elephant sat back in his chair. "Fine, fine. Just relax and make yourself comfortable, Mr. Baloo." Bossy opened a drawer and extracted a file - Kit's, Baloo assumed - which he set on the desk. "Let's talk about young Kit. Quite an interesting boy, wouldn't you say?" he asked, opening the file.
"Oh, yeah Mr. Bossy. He's a real great kid. I have some of his papers here, no birth certificate, cause - well, you know, but I got his medical stuff - he got all his shots an' everything, before he started at Cape Suzette Elementary! Course, he's over at the Junior High School now, I've got some report cards and stuff, but if you need other-"
Bossy smiled again, that same tight, official smile. He took the papers from Baloo. "No need to concern yourself, Mr. Baloo. Certain aspects of this case were - how shall I put it? - seen to before your visit today." The elephant coughed and awkardly glanced away for a moment. "Now then Mr. Baloo, why don't you tell me in your own words how you came to be looking after this cub."
Wow- right down to business, Baloo thought. "Well, Sir, we kinda, well, ran into each other, see, at Louie's - that's a bar-" Baloo groaned inwardly. "Really a... restaurant, where pilots go, more like it. I was - refueling there - I'm a pilot. You knew that, huh? Anyways, ol' Kit comes in there, and..." Baloo decided to shorten the story considerably. "He asked me fer a ride, an' he told me that he had no folks. Well, I kinda was looking to add a navigator, and L'il Britches was real good with maps-"
"L'il Britches?" Bossy interrupted.
"Oh yeah, that's what I call the kid sometimes. Anyhoo, he helped me on a job, an' we hit it off real good, and we've kinda been partners ever since."
Bossy looked down at the papers in front of him. "I'd heard there was considerably more to that story..."
Baloo turned pale. "Well, I didn't -that is, I thought - "
"Don't worry." Bossy said, shaking his head. "It's not important. Tell me, you're a cargo pilot, is that correct?"
"Uh, yep, I sure am."
"Is that a job that provides you with a stable source of income?"
"Oh sure, I work for Becky Cunningham, she pays we a good weekly salary. I'll be honest, I'm not that great with money but Kit makes up for that, he looks after me..."
Bossy smiled at that. "I understand that the lad and yourself share a certain fascination with airplanes."
Baloo's face lit up. Now they were on _his_ turf. "Oh yeah, Mr. Bossy. You might say that's what brought L'il - Kit an' me together - at first. Kit knew everything there was ta know about airplanes. That really knocked my socks off. Kid's gonna be an ace pilot someday, I'll tell ya that!"
"Indeed. Perhaps you could tell me a little about... cloudsurfing."
Baloo turned white again. "Cloud - cloudsurfing?"
"Yes, I understand that the child slips out of the back of your airplane on some sort of metal board and skims on cloud tops, as he's holding onto a tow rope. Is that true, Mr. Baloo?"
Baloo wiped the sweat off of his brow again. "Yeah, but-
"Where did he learn an interesting ability like that?" Bossy asked, glancing up at Baloo as he did.
"I don't... I honestly don't know. He knew how when I met him. It's perfectly-"
"You don't KNOW?" Bossy asked, surprised.
"Kid's got a right to his own life!" Baloo answered, a trace of anger in his voice.
"And I also understand that he spent some time 'cloud surfing' in an airshow with a convicted felon, is that true?"
"I didn't KNOW that rat Daring Dan was a felon! It was the damn police that let him set up his fool airshow here in the first place. I told Kit not to go, but he went. I wasn't - I'm not his father. It killed me, Mr. Bossy. It killed me to see him go. As soon as I found out there was anything screwy goin' on with that airshow I flew to New Fedora and saved Kit from that monster. AND I delivered Daring Dan to the cops, too - not that they'd keep him off the street for long."
Bossy was silent for a moment. He clasped his hands together in front of him. "Mr. Baloo, let me be frank here - why in the world would a man in your position, with your background, want to adoopt a teenager? Don't you think there are-"
"Wait! Just listen!" Baloo said, trying to control his temper. "Don't you be askin' about a 'man in my position'. Kit an' I are partners. That boy means more to me than anythin' else in the world. That's all there is to it. Kit's been runnin' around his whole life and nobody - NOBODY - " he said pointedly."-ever stopped to really care about him. Kit an' I, we-we _need_ each other. It ain't no accident that he bumped into me at Louie's, Mr. Bossy. It was the most important day in both our lives. Sure, he's got problems, an' I'm no model father neither. But we don't care about that. We need each other."
Bossy stared at Baloo in silence for a moment. He looked down and made a notation on one of the papers in front of him. Looking up, he smiled at the pilot. "I think that's about all I need, Mr. Baloo. Thanks very much for coming down. May I keep these documents? They will be sent to you in the mail after we're done with them."
Baloo's jaw dropped. "Uh, sure, sure, keep 'em. That's it? Do I hafta come back, or-"
"No, Mr. Baloo, I don't believe another appointment will be necessary. I think I've got all the information I need. We just need to take care of some things on our end, and we'll be in touch with you." He offered his hand.
Baloo shook the elephant's hand and stood, in a daze, not sure what to think. Bossy rose, expectantly, still smiling, and Baloo turned and slowly walked out of the office.
"Oh, Mr. Baloo!" the elephant said, just as Baloo stepped through the door. The Bear turned back towards him. "Just make sure that tow rope is in good shape. And watch out for thunderstorms."
Karnage was not going to sleep in any bushes ever again - not for Kit Cloudkicker at least. Besides, he had paid for a suite at the Takeover Hostel. He had slipped back to the hotel after his visit to Higher for Hire, returning late the next morning, where he had kept a vigil outside the building. Unfortunately, the boy had not come or gone from the place all day - and that infernal plane, the Sea Duck, was there. The boy must be inside.
The red wolf was just considering giving up for a while and getting something to eat when he heard someone approaching. He crouched farther down into the bushes and peeked through the foliage. It was that fat buffoon of a pilot, Baloo, dressed in an absurdly unfashionable suit and tie. No sign of the boy - but the two of them stuck together like sap to a tree. He settled down to wait.
Baloo walked into Higher for Hire and grinned to see Rebecca and Molly playing a game of checkers on the floor. "Whassa matter, Becky - don't tell me YOU finally got tired of workin' all the time?" he asked jauntily, tossing his hat into a corner.
"Very funny Baloo. Don't keep me in suspense - how did..." she glanced over at Molly. "IT go?"
"I think it went real well, Beckers. Guy said he didn't need to see me again - said they'd get back to me soon. I wasn't sure for a while, but towards the end I think he was trying to tell me somethin'. Somethin' good."
"That's wonderful, Baloo! Are you going to tell Kit?"
"Tell Kit what?" Molly asked from the floor.
The adults ignored her. "I was thinkin' I might, Becky. It might not be a bad time. Is he upstairs again?"
Rebecca was surprised by the question. "No, Baloo - I thought he might be with you. You mean you don't know where he is?"
Baloo frowned. "With me? Heck, I wasn't gonna take L'il Britches down there unless they told me to. Gimme _some_ credit, Lady!"
"Well, I'm sorry Baloo, but you mean to say he didn't tell you where he was going?" Rebecca asked worriedly.
"No, mebbe he left a note or somethin'..." The pilot took the stairs two at a time, Rebecca and Molly behind him. The big bear entered the bedroom and scanned it. "There!" he said, pointing to a small, folded slip of paper on Kit's pillow.
"Oh, I'm sorry Baloo! I didn't see it. I didn't think to look-"
"Don't worry about it Becky." he said, grabbing the paper. He unfolded it and read it, silently. He crushed the paper in a massive paw, and hid his face with the other.
"What? What Baloo? What does it say?" Rebecca was genuinely afraid now. The big bear didn't flinch, so she grabbed the paper from his hand and read it aloud.
"Dear Papa Bear: Please don't come looking for me. I've done enough damage already. I don't want anyone else to get hurt. I've decided that I have to deal with things myself - that's the only way. Thank you for eveything you've done for me.
I'll never forget you - ever. Please give Becky and Molly a hug and tell them I'll miss them very much. Tell them I'm sorry I didn't get to say goodbye. Remember - I'm your navigator. Always.
Love, Kit"
"Oh, Baloo!" she gasped. "What - why-"
"Mommy! What does that letter mean? Where did Kit go? Mom-mee!" Molly screamed. Absently Rebecca scooped the cub into her arms.
Baloo looked as though he were in shock. "I don't get it! Why - " Suddenly, his eyes darted down to the floor. "What in the world..."
"What? What is it?'
Baloo bent down and picked something up off of the floor. He stood, holding a strip of blue cloth. To her horror, Rebecca realized that it was covered in blood. She lot out a short involuntary scream, prompting a fit of wailing from Molly. "My god, what-what is it, Baloo?"
Baloo stared in horror at the sullied cloth. "Karnage." he said quietly.
"What? Karnage?"
"It's Karnage's old uniform, Becky. Or what's left of it." With a roar of anger, he threw the cloth to the floor and sat on the bed. Molly wailed again.
"What's wrong with Baloo, Mommy? What's goin' on? Where's Kit?"
"Shhhh!" her mother cooed. "It's all right Baby, don't worry." She sat next to Baloo, still holding the yellow cub. "What does it mean, Baloo? And the... the blood!"
"It means whatever's happened to Kit, Karnage has somethin' to do with it. And I don't see how this -' he said disgustedly, pointing at the bloodied cloth on the floor - "Got here unless that rat put it here himself!" The bear looked around the room in desperation. "His knapsack - it's gone! And he wrote that note.....I dunno what happened, Becky, but I'm gettin' an idea. There's no way, no how Kit did all that and went somewhere with that pirate. He left on his own." The bear pounded the bed in anger. "Stay here, Beckers!" he said, rising and heading for the door. "Man the phone and the radio, in case he calls in."
But Baloo!" she shouted at his departing back. "Where are you GOING?"
"Gonna see a man about a boy!" he shouted back.
Outside, Karnage listened and smiled. So, there was going to be a chase - fine. Excellamundo! That much more entertainment value this way. He slipped away from the window and dissapeared.
Kit's mind was a whirl as he walked the streets of Cape Suzette. At some level, he had always known it would come to this. If he could survive on his own at age ten, then he certainly could as a thirteen year-old. Only this time, he truly would survive on his _own_. He'd had enough of being a destructive force in people's lives - people whose only crime was to get mixed up with a kid who was bad news. No, he would survive on his own. And as for Karnage, well - whatever happens, happens.
He knew he would need to get out of Cape Suzette as quickly as possible. Baloo would miss him soon, and the word would be out. The poor sap would probably set the police out looking...
Kit stopped in his tracks and closed his eyes. No, he would not be able to think about Baloo - not yet. It just wouldn't be possible. There was no room for any weakness in the world he was re-entering. He only hoped he hadn't been softened up too much by the last year of relative comfort...
He avoided the docks and the cargo companies that clustered there - far too many familiar faces. He knew nearly all of the pilots by name, and they would surely tell Baloo if he came around looking for rides. He'd become a favorite figure, almost a mascot among their numbers - an arrangement which Kit took with some good-natured annoyance.
Instead, he headed to the airfield, where he was more likely to find a stranger in town for a drop or pick-up. There were quite a few planes on the tarmac that morning. Kit slipped neatly over the fence and began snooping around, paying special attention to the cargo planes. Finally, he found what he was looking for - a sky-blue Conwing L-22 with a friendly flight sign on the fuselage. He rapped on the hull and listened - the plane sounded empty. Must have a delivery coming in soon. The door was locked, so Kit settled down under the plane and leaned against the landing gear to wait.
After about forty-five minutes his patience was rewarded- a truck pulled up and two men got out and began loading crates into the cargo hold. Kit stayed hidden under the plane until the hold was loaded and the driver left with the truck. He heard the pilot open the cockpit door and climb in, and slipped out from under the plane.
He rapped on the cockpit window. The pilot, a tall white dog in a leather flight jacket, rolled down the window with a somewhat surprised look on his face.
"Ride?" Kit asked, trying to sound pathetic.
The pilot looked the boy over. "Don't meet a lot of travelers in a place like Cape Suzette. Where you goin', Son?"
"Wherever you are, if it's OK."
The pilot smiled and motioned Kit around to the other door. The cub climbed in and took a seat in the navigator's chair. "Thanks." the boy said, stowing his knapsack behind the seat.
"Name's Waldo, Son. I'm only headed to Grimscape Island, not much of a place, but yer welcome for the ride if ya like."
Kit winced. Grimscape Island wasn't much more than a transit center for cargo companies. Not ideal. Still, he had to be away from Cape Suzette soon, and there would always be another flight out from Grimscape. "Sure, Mister - Waldo - that's fine. Thanks again."
The pilot taxied to the runway and took off. Within moments, they were approaching the cliffs. The big dog looked over at the boy, who was staring fixedly back at Cape Suzette as it dwindled behind them. "Whatcha running from, Son?"
"Does it matter?" the cub answered, without averting his gaze.
Mrs. Snarly looked up from her desk to see Baloo walking determinedly towards the elevators. "Mr. Baloo, what may I-"
"Goatta see Mr. Khan." the bear grunted, without stopping.
"Mr. Baloo, Mr. Khan is busy, you can't -"
"Stop me." Baloo said, pressing the elevator button.
"Security!" she yelled. Two leopards scurried over and she pointed at Baloo. Before the cats could arrive, the elevator doors had closed and Baloo was winging his way to the top of Khan Tower.
"Mr. Khan!" she said into the intercom. "I'm very sorry, sir, but Mr. Baloo is on his way up. He just plowed right through, sir, before security could stop him. They're right behind him-"
The elevator doors opened and Baloo stepped out into Khan's office. He felt none of the usual intimidation - all of this finery meant very little in the grander scheme, as far as he was concerned now. Khan was seated at his desk, another tiger in an expensive black suit seated across from him. Khan looked annoyed, to say the very least. "Mr. Baloo. You are trespassing, sir, and interrupting a very-"
"I'm sorry, Mr. Khan, but I need to speak with you, urgent-like. It's about Kit."
The two security guards huffed out of the elevator and into the room and grabbed Baloo by the arms. "We're s-s-s-sorry, sir, he slipped by us. Shall we arrest him sir?"
Khan sighed grandly. "No gentlemen - altough you may rest assured we will undergo a thorough review of our security procedures. Leave him." He turned to the other tiger. "Mr. Sanders, if you could excuse us for just a few moments? My men will show you downstairs. I will notify you when I am ready. I do apologize for the interruption."
"Of course, Mr. Khan." the tiger said obsequiously. He joined the security guards and they stepped onto the elevator.
Khan stood and turned to face the window, hands clasped behind his back. "I do not take kindly to unannounced visitors, Mr. Baloo. This had better be _very_ good."
"It's about Kit, like I said, sir." Baloo said, sitting across the desk from the hulking tiger.
Khan turned and sat. "I believe that I was quite clear with you, Mr. Baloo. I have kept my end of the deal."
"No deals this time, Khanny. I need a favor, plain and simple."
Khan arched an eyebrow. "I do not do _favors_, Mr. Baloo. I am a businessman. I sincerely hope you are not wasting-"
Baloo interrupted. "You don't undertsand, sir. Kit's in trouble."
"What kind of - trouble?"
"I don't know for sure. I found a bloody piece of Don Karnage's uniform under his bed. Kit's gone. I don't know exactly-"
"Karnage?" the tiger said darkly. He dragged his claws across the desk, leaving a new set of furrows to join the many that already pocked it's surface.
"I don't know exactly what he did, but I know Kit's in trouble. He might be hurt. I think Karnage might be after him. I think Kit sees all this as his fault, somehow, and he's tryin' to keep me and Becky an' Molly from getting hurt..."
"I will help you." Khan purred, an angry scowl crossing his face. "What is it that you wish me to do?"
Baloo smiled. "Thanks, Khanny ol' buddy. I knew you'd come through. It's simple - the kid's been a loner all his life. He's gonna try to hitch a plane somewhere, get away from Cape Suzette. That's what he knows. You've got more pilots than anybody, Mr. Khan. They go to every port, every city in the world, almost. I just need you to tell your guys to keep their eyes and ears open, to let you know if they hear anything about Kit - OR Karnage. Relay the information to Higher for Hire. Becky'll get it to me. I'm gonna be out there lookin' for the kid."
Khan considered. "Gladly. If he is out there, Mr. Baloo, my men will find him, rest assured. And, Mr. Baloo...."
"Yep?"
"If you should happen to come across Karnage in your search, I would greatly appreciate it if you would give him something for me..."
Rebecca sat worriedly at the desk, unable to work, wishing for the phone to ring, or for the telltale static that indicated an inbound radio message. All she was rewarded with were the persistent cries of her daughter, who was keenly aware that something was quite amiss. Whenerver the adults said everything was gonna be OK, she knew something was very wrong.
"Mommy! Where'd Baloo go? Where's Kit? I'm hungry!"
"I know, Honey. Kit and Baloo are fine, they're just - busy."
"I'm hungry! Can we eat now?"
Reebecca sighed. It _was_ way past Molly'd dinnertime. "Wildcat" she yelled. "Can you come in here, please?"
The mechanic loped in, a rag tucked into his pocket and a greasy wrench in hand. "Hiya Ree-becca! Just finished tunin' up the engines, man, they're gonna be purrin' like a little kitten with a big ol' bowl o' milk-"
"Wildcat!" she interrupted. "I have to stay here and wait for a phone call - can you please take Molly over to Levinson's Diner and get her some dinner?" She opened her purse and gave the mechanic some bills.
At that moment Baloo burst though the door and headed for the desk. "Hiya Beckers. Mission accomplished!"
"What mission's that, man?" Wildcat asked
"Wildcat! Dinner. Molly. Now!" Rebecca pointed to the door.
"Oh yeah, sorry Ree-becca. C'mon Mollycat, let's go get us some meatloaf and cherry pie with ice cream." The mechanic scooped up the yellow cub and headed for the door. Molly looked back and shot her mother an angry look as they departed.
"NOW Baloo. Tell me exactly what's going on!"
"Simple Becky. I got Shere Khan's army o' pilots scanning the skies for L'il Britches - AND Karnage. They're gonna report back here if they see anything. You gotta stay here - set up Molly in Kit's bed, whatever. Anything you hear you tell me right away."
"But - where will YOU be, Baloo?" Rebecca asked. Baloo sprinted up the stairs, his boss in tow.
Baloo shucked his suit and grabbed his pilot shirt and cap off of his bed. "I'm gonna take the Duck and go look for the kid. I'll send a message to all the freelance guys and cargo pilots and just start looking." He sprinted back down the stairs, throwing on the shirt and cap.
"But Baloo - where will you start? You have no idea where he is! Nobody does!"
"SOMEbody does, Beckers. We just gotta find out who. I'll head to Louie's first - see if anybody over there's heard anything, and get em all to spread the word. I'll sleep in the Duck tonight, just in case you need to send me a message. Stay by that radio!" He burst through the door and sprinted over to the yellow seaplane.
"Baloo!" Rebecca shouted as Baloo sat down and started the engines. "What - what do you think's happened, really? What if... if..."
"I dunno Beckers. But I'm gonna find that boy if it's the last thing I do! Stay by that radio!": he shouted, and with that the plane turned into open water, took off and headed towards the cliffs.
Rebecca watched it dissapear. She turned and walked back into Higher for hire, wiping a tear away as she did.
Baloo cleared the cliffs and banked the plane, headed towards Louie's. At least _that_ was a place he could find without his navigator. He took a deep breath and picked up the radio.
"Mayday! This is a general distress call!" He paused for a moment. "Now that I have your attention - This is the Sea Duck, out of Cape Suzette. This is Baloo. For anyone who can hear me.. anyone who flies... I need you to help me - to help me find my navigator. My kid. He's dissapeared, and he's in trouble. He's thirteen years-old... brown bear cub, about four foot five, maybe... wearing a green - no, sorry, make that white - white sailor's sweater, red and blue baseball cap...
He's a good kid. He knows his way around airplanes, he'll be hangin' around airfields, cargo strips... He'll be lookin' for a lift somewheres. I don't know where. Please watch for him. If you see him lemee know - Baloo, the Sea Duck. If you can't find me call Higher for Hire, in Cape Suzette, or Louie's, they'll get the message to me! That's it, I guess..."
Baloo set the mike down and slumped back, dejectedly, in the seat. Drops of water in an ocean, that's all these efforts were... The world was so damn big, and the kid could be anywhere. And Karnage right behind him...
Grimscape Island was a flat, grey expanse of sand, scrub and corrugated iron buildings - warehouses full of cargoes from all over the world, and the nondescript offices of the companies that shipped them. All in all, it did not present a visage that would entice a visitor to linger long in their stay. And that was certainly true of the thirteen year-old brown bearcub that had arrived the previous evening.
Kit Cloudkicker had bid his farewell to Waldo and spent an uncomfortable night sleeping on a pile of flour sacks in one of the hulking warehouses that dotted the island. He emerged the next morning to find a leaden grey sky spitting a light rain, and a chill wind blowing in off of the sea to the west.
He needed to find a flight out of this place - not difficult in itself, but finding a plane and pilot that was willing to give a young hobo a ride, no questions asked, complicated the situation immensely. Waldo had told him that he could hang out in the pilot's recreation hall on the island if he wished, but Kit didn't dare. There was simply too much risk that one of Baloo's pals would be there.
Instead, knapsack in tow, he walked along the rows of warehouses, which all fronted the airstrips that were the lifeblood of the island. Wet and cold, his sailor's jersey providing little protection against the biting wind, he searched for a plane in preperation for a departure from Grimscape.
To his surprise, he heard a voice calling his name. His first instinct was to run, but he was exposed -there was no cover within twenty yards. The voice called again. "Cloudkicker?"
Reluctantly, the boy turned. A pilot was shouting his name, a rugged-looking handsome black bear of perhaps fifty years of age. He wore a white scarf, which contrasted brillinatly with his black fur, and an old pair of military goggles was perched on his forhead. "Cloudkicker? That you, kid?"
"Rudder?!" Kit said in disbelief.
"Yup, it's me!" the bear said, grinning and walking over to Kit. The boy smiled, his first in days, and shook ther pilot's hand. "Long time no see. What the heck you doin' here, Junior?"
"Looking for a ride." the cub said sheepishly. "Boy, I haven't seen you in two years, Rudder! What've you been up to?"
The bear clapped the boy on the back and nodded towards one of the warehouses farther down the strip. They started walking. "You know me Cloudkicker, I go where the wind takes me - the wind and the dollars when I need 'em. Still flyin' cargo freelance. How 'bout you?"
The boy looked down. "Not much. Kinda the same thing I guess. I did a little navigating, earned a few bucks-"
Rudder laughed. "Man, you always were dynamite, Kid! Flyin' for a livin'at your age!"
"Yeah! Anyways, seen any of the old gang? How's Chester?" Chester was the pilot's younger brother.
"Settled down in Pazooza if you can believe it - started his own guided tour company." The two bears walked into the warehouse that Rudder had been leading them towards. "Mostly the crowd still settles in Freeburg - that's where the big camp is, still."
"So, Rudder - I know you don't owe me any favors, but... can you ferry me someplace? You leaving this rock soon?"
Rudder grinned and clapped the boy on the shoulder. "Yer in luck, kiddo. I got a run in about two hours. Glad to have the company. Boy, I can't believe how much taller you got - you're a reed! That and without that old sweater o' yours, almost didn't recognize you-"
"Where you headed, Rudder?" the boy asked, a look of sadness crossing his face.
"Gotta drop a load of typewriters in Port Wallaby."
Kit closed his eyes and smiled bitterly. It _would_ have to be Port Wallaby...
The clerk stood behind the counter of Allied International Cargo Services looking bored, a newspaper spread out on the counter in front of him. The corrugated iron door swung open noisily, and a red wolf walked into the shed. The rain pattered noisily on the iron roof.
"May I help you?" the clerk, a young doberman, said listlessly.
"Yes, your pilot - the plane that left just a moment ago-"
"He's a freelance pilot sir, he doesn't work for us."
"Yes, indeed, my fine friend. This man. You see, I was pay to deliver an important message to heem, si'? Unfotunately I arrive here too late, yes-no, just as he leave. But I am thinking, perhaps I can radio the message ahead to his destination, yes? And then they can tell him when he arrive. All will be happy, I will get pay, and pilot will get message. So, if you will just tell me where is he is going-"
"I don't know, shipping records are classified company documents...." the dog said dubiously.
"Oh, I no need to know what you ship, or to who, yes-no?" The red wolf grinned toothily. "Besides, is very important that this pilot get message." He reached into his pocket and extracted a 20 Bing-Bang Buck note. "So if you will just tell me where it is he go, it will be most appreciated."
The clerk pocketed the bill. "Certainly sir, glad to help. He's flying to Port Wallaby." He returned to his newspaper.
"Ah! Grazie, my good man. Excellamundo! Now, if you will 'scuse me, I mus' be off...."
Kit sat in the navigator's chair of Rudder's plane, the Albatross, moodily staring out at the ocean below him. The hum of the engines did not have theire usual calming influence on his soul today. The pilot flew silently, occasionally staring over at Kit thoughtfully. Finally, he spoke.
"Say, Junior, as long as your sittin' there, can you give me a heading?"
Kit looked over. "Oh, sure Rudder. No problem." He picked up the map and compass on the dash in front of him and spread the map on his lap. He made a notation with his pencil and checked the compass. "Turn a one-two-niner degrees, then hold 'er steady."
"Thanks Kid." Rudder grinned. "Always did know yer way around a map like a pro, Cloudkicker. Surprisin' you didn't latch on somewhere, permanent-like...."
"You heard me Baloo!" Rebecca shouted into the microphone of the radio at Higher for Hire."
Baloo's voice crackled from the speaker. "Grimscape Island? You're sure?"
"That's what Khan's office said, Baloo. One of his pilot squad thinks he saw Karnage on Grimscape Island while he was making a pickup. When he tried to get closer, he lost sight of him."
"No sign o' Kit, though?" Baloo crackled.
"No word yet, Baloo. Where are you now?"
"I'm about 80 miles out from Louie's, Becky. This settles it, lady. No way Karnage is gonna spend any time on Grimscape Island unless he's followin' Kit. There ain't nothin' else there he'd be interested in."
"Oh Baloo!" Rebecca sighed worriedly. "What if he finds Kit before you do?"
"Then he'll be the sorriest pirate scum that ever lived after I get my...." The pilot's voice began to break up, lost in static.
"Baloo!" Rebecca shouted. "I'm losing you! What are you going to do now?"
There was a hiss of static for a moment. "-erstorm. Gonna go to Grimscape - L'il Britches'll be gone by the time I get there but-.....................ick up his trail........-report back in if I find anything." The pilot's voice was lost again in static, and this time did not return. Rebecca set down the mike and lay her head on her desk wearily.
Kit had returned to his study of the seascape below him, as Port Wallaby inched closer. The pilot turned to speak again. "So, Kit. What are you know, thirteen?"
"Yup." The boy said, without looking over.
"You know, I heard a rumor, a few months back, that you'd hooked up with a cargo pilot outta Cape Suzette, Baloo. That true?"
The boy jerked his head away from the window, a sad look flashing in his eyes, followed by a hard stare. "Yeah, I was with Baloo for a while." the cub said, looking straight ahead.
"What happened?" Rudder asked gently. "He didn't treat you too good?" It was an old story.
"No!" Kit said quickly. "He didn't - look, I'd really rather not talk about it, if it's OK with you."
"Sure Kid, no problem." The pilot whistled softly as he gently guided the plane. "You did seem awful anxious to get off of Grimscape Island though."
"Wouldn't you be?" the cub asked. "The place is a dump!"
"Yer right about that, Junior. Nothing but sand and warehouses, no place for a bright kid like you." He glanced sidelong at the boy. "Kit, I heard you were with Karnage and his gang for a while - true?"
Kit looked down. "Yeah, I was, Rudder. I was stupid. I thought it would be a big adventure. I didn't know what I was getting myself into."
"How'd you get away from 'em?"
Kit sighed. "I got - I got some help, and I just sorta ditched 'em."
Rudder whistled. "Bet Karnage wasn't too happy about that. That when you ended up in Cape Suzette?"
"Yeah." Kit replied, returning his stare to the sea below them. It was clear the cub had no desire to continue the conversation.
They flew in silence for a time, and finally Port Wallaby appeared below them. Rudder languidly guided the plane towards the airfield and gently brought them in for a feathery landing, his hands - posessor's of thrity-plus years of experience - barely seeming to move on the wheel at all. He taxied the plane to the end of the runway and pulled to a stop.
Kit reached behind him and pulled his knapsack to his lap. "Thanks again for the ride, Rudder. You're a real pal."
"No problem Kid." the black bear said, watching the boy. "Listen, Son - If you want to, you could hang around with me for a while, I got a pretty busy schedule the next few weeks and I could always use another hand. Not to mention a good navigator..."
Kit sighed. "No thanks, Rudder. I gotta move on."
Rudder reached under the boy's chin and gently pulled his face to look at his own. "Listen, Kit - If you're in some kind of trouble, I can-"
"No, that's Ok Rudder, I'm fine." the cub said, placing a hand on the pilot's arm. "Hey Rudder, if you see the old gang, let 'em know I said Hi, huh? And if you're ever in Freeburg, tell 'em - tell 'em I'm sorry I ever got mixed up with those pirates, OK? Tell 'em I got away from 'em. And let them know I appreciate everything."
The cub gave Rudder a smile, released his arm and opened the door. He hopped lithely down to the tarmac and started away, giving the pilot a wave as he walked away. The black bear watched him go, intently staring at his departing form.
