A Map Made in Heaven
part 5

Author's note: Before we get started, I believe a few thanks are in order. First, a big thanks goes out to Gidget for her bat jokes; they made the cave scene 'punnier'. And thanks to you, the reader, for 'traveling' along with the von Bruinwalds and Weazel. Now, the journey continues...

Manitoo Springs, Coloradio
Cave of the Four Winds
Tuesday Morning
Day 4

Weazel sat in his car, impatiently drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. While waiting for the von Bruinwalds to arrive, he flicked his beady black eyes around at his surroundings. The small parking lot contained five cars, not including his own black Fjord. His gaze shifted to the red-roofed stone building that doubled as gift shop and entrance to the cave. Rising directly behind the building were the sharp, pointed peaks of the Rock 'n' Roll Mountains, speckled with evergreens and scrub bushes. Finally, he looked up at the clear azure sky overhead.

All was silent save for the wind whistling through the trees.

Frowning, the weasel pushed up his sleeve to check his wristwatch. Then, he picked up the clipboard from the seat. He squinted up at the sign on the building's roof. Spelled out in large, unmistakable red letters was "The Wonderful Cave of the Four Winds". He was at the right place at the right time, all right. He hoped that the von Bruinwalds weren't deviating from the schedule; that would be unacceptable.

Weazel angrily tossed the clipboard back on the seat and ranted to himself. "I'm here, the cave's here. Why ain't they here? Slept here in this freezing car all last night and what am I gettin' out of it? Nothing but a stiff neck and bein' stiffed by those dumb bears. Ah-ah-ah-choo! And a cold!" He drew out a handkerchief to blow his nose with a loud 'honk'. "Where the heck are they?" When he saw the von Bruinwalds' car pull into the parking lot, he said irritably, "About blinkin' time! They're two stinkin' hours late!"

He scrunched down in his seat as well as his pudgy body would allow. His ears strained to hear the von Bruinwalds' conversation through his open car window.

"Yay! We're here!" Molly exclaimed, bounding from the backseat. She slammed the car door, then pulled on her lavender jacket.

"We would have been here sooner if someone hadn't taken that wrong turn," Rebecca said, shooting a pointed look at her husband over the top of the car. She buttoned Cassie's yellow cardigan and retied her violet hair ribbons before slipping on her own coat.

"Aw, lighten up, Beckers," Baloo said, reaching into the car for his leather flight jacket - a gift from flying legend, Rick Skye. "We gotta make at least one wrong turn per trip. Right, Li'l Britches?"

Kit grinned as he slipped on his own bomber jacket. "That's usually the way it goes, Papa Bear."

"'Course it ain't no fault of my ace navigator," Baloo added quickly. "Kit's never steered me wrong yet, but blamed if this ol' pilot can't never tell his right from his left."

"You should, Daddy, because you got a ring on your left hand." Molly pointed to her father's wedding band.

Baloo patted her on the head. "Yeah, I do, Muffin, but 'ring' starts with 'rrr' just like 'right' an' that makes me more ker-fuddled." He took Cassie from Rebecca and 'flew' her around until the toddler giggled with glee.

"So you're saying that you're always ker-fuddled, Baloo? Why am I not surprised?" Rebecca said with a mischievous smile, slinging her purse over her shoulder.

"Hardy-har-har, Becky," Baloo said morosely.

"Who needs to lighten up now? I was just joking," she laughed, giving him a peck on the cheek. "Happy anniversary, darling."

Baloo's scowl gradually turned into a broad smile. He never could stay mad at his wife for long, no matter how much he wanted to.

"Mommy, Daddy, let's go!" Molly called from the door of the building where she and Kit were waiting.

"We'd better hurry, or the kids will go without us." Rebecca linked her arm through her husband's.

"Not Daddy's little Gingersnap," Baloo replied, kissing the tip of Cassie's nose. "She'll stick with her mama an' papa."

"Bye-bye, Dad-dee!" Cassie said. Before Baloo knew what was happening, the toddler had squirmed out of his arms and was hurrying to join her brother and sister.

"You were saying, Baloo?" Rebecca remarked with a grin as they walked towards the building.

Baloo rubbed the back of his neck. "If that kid goes any faster, she'll break the sound barrier."

Rebecca laughed as she and her family entered the building.

This was the chance that Weazel had been waiting for. He got out of his car and crossed the parking lot to the Chevrolette. He peeked through the car's window. Success! The diaper bag was on the backseat.

After flashing a wary glance at the building, Weazel quickly opened the door and snatched up the diaper bag. He zipped it open and, turning it upside down, unceremoniously dumped its contents onto the seat. He pawed through five clean cloth diapers, a tin of talcum powder, a squeaky rubber giraffe, and countless diaper pins to get to the brochures and maps. But when he had looked through everything, he discovered something: he was right back at square one. The treasure map of Emperor Karat wasn't there.

"It's gotta be here somewhere! A map don't just disappear into thin air," he muttered to himself. Weazel stuck his hand inside the diaper bag to check for secret compartments, but all he found was an open diaper pin, which pricked his thumb. "Ouch!" he cried, sticking his throbbing thumb in his mouth. "Son of a hamster!" he swore, slamming the car door. "Those thievin' bears must have it on 'em. How dare they steal my stolen property?"

Fuming inwardly, the fed-up weasel drew his revolver from his jacket pocket and checked to make sure that it was loaded. It was. He snapped the barrel back into place, spun it, and put the gun back in his pocket. "It's bear-hunting season," he said sinisterly, stalking towards the cave.

Inside, Weazel found himself on the outskirts of a crowd of approximately twenty-five people of all ages and species. The von Bruinwalds were in the middle of the huddle, near the tour guide.

The tour guide was a vociferous grey wolf wearing a khaki shirt; a flashlight protruded from his shirt pocket. "Gather 'round, people. Don't be shy. I'm Gord, your terrific tour guide who's gonna lead you wonderful tourists through the wonders of the Wonderful Cave of the Four Winds. Whew! Try to say that five times fast. Before we get started, I would like to point out the gift shop over yonder. For the next five minutes, all flashlights are on sale. Batteries not included. Kids, bug your parents for one. It's really dark in the cave."

He paused for a reaction, but all he got were blank stares. "Just kidding. The path that we're taking is well-lighted with 25,000 little twinkle lights. Okay, maybe not quite that many. The tour's about 45 minutes long, so if you need to use the bathroom, now would be a good time. The owners frown on people using the cave for a toilet and, boy, can they frown! All year round, it's a cool 54 degrees Fahrenheit in the cave." He grinned at the ten-year-old twin hyenas right in front of him. "That's pretty cool, huh, guys?"

The boys nodded.

Gord continued, "There's lots of animals in the cave, including snakes and bats, but the biggest animal is yours truly." He proudly jerked a thumb at himself. "Just ask my girlfriend. Aoooooooooo!" The guide let out a howl, which prompted a few polite smiles as well as a few eye rolls from the tourists.

Weazel cringed. Bats! He hated bats!

"Question, question, who's got a question?" Gord asked, scanning the crowd. "No one? Okey-dokey, artichokey. Let's have some pun." He opened a door that led into the cave, allowing cool, damp air to seep out. "Watch your step and your heads, folks. Now stop me if you've heard this one. Why did the cave get into trouble? It had a big mouth. Get it?"

Twenty Minutes Later

Weazel, sandwiched between a giraffe and an alligator, trudged along as the tourists walked, single file, through a narrow, winding passageway. He kept shooting furtive glances up at the cave's ceiling, on the lookout for bats. All he wanted to do was get the map and get out of the bat-infested cave, but the von Bruinwalds were at the head of the procession while he was near the rear.

He could barely hear Gord say, "Around this narrow bend, called Fat Man's Folly, is the largest room in the cave - The Cathedral. In 1872, miners looking for gold came down here, but, boy, were they fooled. All they found was pyrite or fool's gold. Ba-dum-dum-ching!"

Receiving no laughs, no chuckles, not even a smile for his lame wordplay, Gord added, "These are the jokes, folks."

"Is that what he calls 'em?" Baloo gasped, struggling to squeeze through the narrow crevice.

"Suck it in, Papa Bear," Kit whispered. He pushed on one side while Molly pulled from the other.

"I am!" the big bear wheezed.

"You're going on a diet, Baloo," Rebecca said sternly.

"I'm already on a diet - the see food diet." Baloo popped through. He ruefully rubbed his sore abdomen. "I see food an' I eat it."

"That's not the kind of diet I meant."

Catching this aside, Gord said, "Speaking of diets, what's a vampire bat's favorite sweet? A sucker!"

Molly whispered to Kit, "His jokes are worse than Daddy's."

When everyone in the tour group had entered the large room dubbed The Cathedral, Gord said, "If you look closely at the ceiling, you might see some bats." He focused his flashlight beam on a tiny blob of brown fur nestled next to a stalactite. "There's Batty Davis, star of stage, screen, and cave. She's soaking up the spotlight. And speaking of bats, did ya ever hear the one where two bats were hanging from the roof of a cave when they saw a group of people walking towards them? One bat turned to the other and said, 'How come the blood doesn't rush to their feet?' Huh? Huh?"

It was quiet enough to hear a stalagmite grow.

"Tough audience. How about this one? Why did the bat brush his teeth?"

The hyena twins yelled out the punch line simultaneously. "Because he had bat breath!"

At that, everyone chuckled, making the room reverberate with laughter. Weazel took advantage of the distraction to start inching towards the von Bruinwalds, his fingers folded around the revolver concealed in his pocket.

When the laughter had died down, Gord said good-naturedly, "Oh, sure, that you find funny. However, the miners didn't find this place so funny. They came down here through that hole way up there." He directed his flashlight beam to a small opening in the roof of the cave, several hundred feet above their heads. "Using ropes, they lowered themselves down here and when they found what they thought was real gold, they got real excited and scrambled all the way back up their ropes to get their equipment."

Weazel, who was right behind Rebecca, slowly reached out a hand for her purse. He swiftly drew his hand back, leaning casually against an old wooden cart, when Gord said, "This is what they left when they found out it was fool's gold."

The guide pointed out the dilapidated wooden cart resting on rusty railroad tracks. The tracks disappeared down a dark tunnel. "Anybody want to take a ride on that roller coaster? Me, neither. Anyway, when the miners came down here through that hole in the ceiling on ropes they were equipped with only lanterns and candles. No nice electric-lighted path for them. Now, we'll see what it was like for those miners."

Gord flicked a switch on the wall beside him, plunging them into utter darkness.

When the lights went out, Cassie cried, "Uh-oh!" inciting a few amused chuckles.

Weazel whipped out his revolver and crept up on bears, intending to search their pockets. But before he could reach them, something swooped near his cheek. Gasping with fright, he backpedaled backwards, tripped over a railroad tie, and tumbled into the cart, breaking the brake in the process. The cart started down the tracks and disappeared into the tunnel.

A split second later, the lights came back on. "Dark, huh? I know what will scare the beejeebies out of you - a good joke. How did the female bat attract the male? By batting her eyelids! This way, folks. Follow the brown rock path."

Meanwhile, the cart went bumpity-bump, clickety-clack down, down, down the tunnel, gaining momentum. The track was so rough that Weazel felt as if his teeth were going to be rattled out of his head. When he finally struggled to his knees, his eyes strained to see through the darkness. He wanted to get off this crazy ride, but he couldn't even see the end of his nose and he preferred to look before he leapt. Then, he remembered that he had a book of matches in his pocket.

While fumbling for them, the cart flew through a wall-to-wall spider web. "Yeeuck!" he exclaimed, wiping the sticky web from his face. "The housekeeper's slackin' off." With trembling hands, he swatted at a spider that was crawling on the back of his neck. "This place needs an exterminator," he said with a shudder.

"Whoooaaaa!" Weazel yelled as the cart rounded a sharp bend on two wheels. It then slammed back onto the tracks with bone-jarring 'thud', causing sparks to fly.

"Glad that's glub..." Weazel spluttered as the cart splashed through a waterfall.

Then, his stomach dropped out from under him, as did the ground. The cart had fallen into a chasm, a veritable bottomless pit.

"Heeellllppp!" Weazel screamed, holding onto the sides of the cart with a death grip.

Help came from an unlikely source. A geyser boosted the cart upwards. Before Weazel had a chance to throw up, the cart was thrown onto the tracks on the opposite side of the chasm.

"Whew! That was close!" Weazel said as the cart rumbled through the tunnel. But he had spoken too soon. Bats, peeved that their peaceful slumber had been disturbed, swooped down on him, squeaking and screeching.

Weazel drew out his revolver. "Take that, you bats!" he shouted, firing randomly towards the ceiling. "And that! And even that!"

One bullet ricocheted off a stalactite. The icicle-shaped cylinder of calcium carbonate shuddered, swayed, and smashed to the ground, landing in the middle of the tracks.

When the cart crashed into the stalactite and tipped over, Weazel was thrown out. He hurtled through the tunnel. Up ahead, he saw a light in the distance. Squeezing his eyes shut, he thought, This is the end.

It was. The end of the tour, that is.

Weazel landed in a heap behind the tour group.

Gord was saying, "And that concludes this tour of the Cave of the Four Winds, not to be confused with the Cave of the Passing Wind. That's near Flushing. Be-de-ba-be-de-ba-be-de-ba- bats all, folks!"

The tour group groaned collectively before dispersing.

"That was fun, but it needed more excitement," Kit said as he and his family traipsed through the gift shop where the tourists had been funneled.

Weazel, wet, muddy and exhausted, crawled out of the cave. "Speak for yourself, kid. This ain't over 'til the fat bear sings!" he whispered before collapsing.

Mike's Peak
A Half Hour Later

"We'll be comin' around the mountain when we come," Baloo sang at the top of his lungs. "We'll be comin' around the mountain when we come. We'll be comin' around the mountain, we'll be comin' around the mountain, we'll be comin' around the mountain when we come." The big bear drove the car up the steep, winding path to the top of one of the tallest mountains in the Rock 'n Roll range - Mike's Peak. Oh, so slowly, they went up, up, up and around, around, around, twisting around the mountain itself.

"Twee, twee, twee, twee, twee," Cassie said happily, announcing the appearance of every single coniferous tree there was. The dark green pine trees crowded close to the narrow, twisty road.

"It smells like Christmas," Molly stated from the backseat. She took a deep breath of the brisk, pine-scented air.

"Twee, twee, twee..."

The trees thinned out as they climbed into the tundra region of the mountain. The lush forest was replaced by thin greenish-brownish grass, rocky soil, and patches of snow.

"Twee?" Cassie turned big, wondering eyes towards her mother.

"No twees, er, I mean, trees up here, Cassie. It's too cold."

"Speakin' Cassie-talk there, Becky?" Baloo chuckled.

After shooting a glare at her husband, Rebecca suggested, "Look at the snow, baby."

"Oooo!" the toddler squealed in delight. "Snow, snow, snow, snow..."

Baloo groaned, "How do ya turn her off?"

Rebecca giggled. "Sorry, Baloo, but we didn't get the model with a shut-off switch. You were the one who couldn't wait for her to talk."

"Yeah, I wanted her ta say 'daddy' an' that was it. This 'twee' business is drivin' me batty!"

Kit handed Cassie's rubber giraffe to his mother. The little girl stuck it in her mouth.

"Ah, the sound of silence!" Baloo sighed in relief. "Thanks, kiddo." He flashed a grateful smile at Kit in the rearview mirror.

"There's the top!" Molly shouted excitedly.

"'Bout time," Baloo murmured under his breath. Maneuvering the car around the tight hairpin turns was trickier than doing a Baloo Corkscrew. The car wasn't as responsive as the Sea Duck.

They pulled into another parking lot in front of another gift shop.

"Man, these gift shops grow everywhere," Baloo commented wryly.

Upon entering the gift shop/observatory, a wonderful aroma, a chocolate-y aroma, assailed Baloo's nose. It overpowered the mingled scent of spices, flowers, leather, and new clothes. He drifted like a man possessed to the fudge counter. Baloo eyed the squares of delectable fudge, his salivary glands working overtime.

"Yeeeeeee-eeeeeees?" said the salesman, traversing down and up the entire musical scale with just that one word. The hippo looked suspiciously like the salesman from Hayseeds 'R' Us. "May I help you, sir?"

"You sure can!" Baloo said, nose pressed to the display case glass.

The salesman, seeing a potentially large client, er, sale, offered the big bear a minuscule chunk of fudge just to get him hooked. Baloo placed the chocolate chip-sized piece on his tongue where he let it melt. "Mmm...baby! That makes drivin' all the way up here worth it!"

Smiling, the salesman got the jumbo-sized box ready. "How much do you wish, sir?"

Five minutes later...

"An' a piece of the Rocky Road, a piece of the chocolate mint, one square of the raspberry creme, one with the pecans on it, and, I can't forget one of them with the walnuts. Ooooo! You even got chocolate-chocolate-chocolate! Definitely one, no, make that two of 'em."

"Will that be all, sir?" the salesman said, holding up the bulging box.

"Did I get some of every kind?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then, yep, that's it." Baloo took out his wallet while the salesman weighed the box of fudge.

"Five-and-a-half pounds at $3.50 per pound comes out to be $19.25."

Baloo peered at the meager contents of his wallet - two cents, a french fry, his pilot's license, his driver's license, and a few snapshots of his family. "Uh, I seem to be a little short," he said with an embarrassed chuckle. "Don't let that fudge go anywheres. I'll be right back with the moolah."

The desperate bear sped through the crowded gift shop to track down Kit, who was looking at table full of snow globes. "Hey, kid, how much money do ya have on ya?" he murmured casually. His eyes flitted around the gift shop in search of his wife. He wanted to keep this matter strictly hush-hush.

"Why?" Kit asked suspiciously, recalling the last time that Baloo had borrowed money; they had ended up being chased all over the world by Trader Moe and his goons. He reflexively slipped his hand in his pocket.

Before Baloo could answer, Molly tugged on her father's shirt. She held up a snow globe containing a miniature Mike's Peak. "Can we get this for Wildcat?"

"Sure, sure, Button-nose," Baloo said absently. "I'm in a real sticky situation here, Li'l Britches. I need twenty smackers to buy some fudge. You know what your mama would do if she found out I'd bought candy."

Kit nodded. "She'd confiscate it."

"Yeah, and then she'd take it away from me. So whattaya say?"

"Fine," Kit said with a resigned sigh. He knew Baloo wouldn't stop pestering him until he gave him the money. He pulled a few crumpled bills from his pocket.

"Thanks, Kit." Baloo took the bills his son offered him. "I owe ya one."

"You owe me twenty, Papa Bear," Kit retorted.

"You won't tell, will ya?"

Kit shook his head whereas Molly said slyly, "Oh, I won't tell, Daddy, as long as you let me have some fudge."

Just then, Rebecca joined them, Cassie in her arms. She gently removed the sleeve of a pink, toddler-sized T-shirt emblazoned with 'Mike's Peak' out of the baby's mouth. "Did you guys find anything you wanted to buy?"

"I wanna get this for Wildcat," Molly said, showing her mother the snow globe.

"That's very thoughtful, Pumpkin. He'll like that." Rebecca turned to her husband. Seeing him wearing the expression that he usually had when proposing a screwball scheme, she said, "What about you, Baloo? You look guilty about something."

Busted by the food police, Baloo thought miserably. Looking to the cubs for help, he mumbled, "Uh, I found the greatest souvenir in the world. Right, kids?"

"What is it?" Rebecca said with real interest.

"Well, it's, uh...uh..." Baloo stammered, removing his cap and crushing it in his paws.

"Fudge," Molly supplied with a grin.

Baloo sobered his daughter with a stern look. "Not just any fudge, Becky. It's gore-met fudge."

"I should have known," Rebecca said with an amused smile. "How much?"

Baloo gulped. "Twenty bucks."

Rebecca blinked once, twice in stunned amazement. "Twenty dollars worth of fudge?"

"Not quite." Baloo chuckled nervously. "It's only $19.25."

Quicker than a flash, Rebecca handed Cassie to Kit, tweaked her husband's ear, and towed him through the gift shop to the rear exit.

"If Mom yells too loud, she'll start an avalanche," Kit remarked with a rueful shake of his head. He was glad that nobody he knew was there to witness his parents' argument.

Meanwhile, Weazel had just arrived at the pinnacle of Mike's Peak. After what he had been through earlier today, he was inclined to shoot first and ask questions about the map later. That was the mood he was in when he got out of his car and approached the gift shop/observatory. His ears perked up at a familiar sound; he'd know those annoying, arguing voices anywhere. Hand enfolded around the revolver in his pocket, he rounded the building on the icy sidewalk, following the sound of the voices.

Ankle deep in snow, Rebecca paced back and forth in front of her husband. "Baloo Augustus von Bruinwald, do you ever think about anything besides your stomach?"

"'Course I do, Becky. I thought fudge would be nice for all of us, not just me."

"Nice? Nice?" Rebecca was really ticked now. She poked her finger at his chest with every syllable. "We're on a budget, mister! How are we supposed to get home if you spend all of our money on candy?"

"Not all of it. Just $19.25." Sotto voce, Baloo added, "Technically, it wasn't our money. It's Kit's."

"And that's another thing. How on earth did you manage to spend that much on fudge?"

"How was I s'posed ta know a little piece of every flavor was gonna be so heavy?"

"Speaking of heavy..." Rebecca poked a finger at his stomach. "Where are your manners, Baloo?"

"I don't want manners. I want chocolate." Before she could spit out a snappy comeback, Baloo wrapped an arm around Rebecca's waist and spun her around to look over the fantastic view of the scenery. "Fix your brown eyes on that, sweetheart. Ain't it worth $19.25?"

"Don't try to change the subject, Baloo! We're not buying the scenery." Rebecca shivered, gazing over the frozen, snow-topped landscape. The cold, thin air took her breath away. It also cooled her temper. She was glad for Baloo's warm arm around her. It was freezing up on that ledge. She gazed down into the valley. In a verdant vale far below was a flock of grazing sheep. They looked like tiny white specks from their vantage. Relaxing against her husband, she reluctantly admitted to herself that Baloo had a point. She hated it when he was right! What was twenty dollars in the grand scheme of life? Why couldn't they splurge a little on vacation? And a little fudge wouldn't kill him. But five-and-a-half pounds!

Rebecca shrugged, saying testily, "It's beautiful."

"So are you, Beckers," Baloo whispered into her ear, causing her heart to melt.

"Are you trying to butter me up?" Rebecca said as sternly as she could. Why did he have to insert compliments into their arguments?

"Is it workin'?"

Grudgingly, she admitted, "Maybe a little, Baloo." She sighed, "You know, you can be the most exasperating bear sometimes!"

Baloo beamed with pleasure. "Thanks, Becky. You're exasperatin', too."

Rebecca's frown transformed into a smile; then a little giggle escaped from her. She took his hand in hers and squeezed it fondly. "Let's go pay for your $19.25 fudge, but I want at least a taste of it."

"All right. One taste." He chuckled at her indignant frown. "Okay, two tastes. Call it my anniversary gift from me to you."

Seeing the couple turning to go inside, Weazel knew that it was now or never. Shaking with fury, he drew out his revolver, aimed, and pulled the trigger.

Click.

"What the heck?" Weazel said angrily, pounding the gun against his palm. He aimed at the bears and tried the trigger again.

Click, click, click, click, click!

The revolver was empty, because Weazel had forgotten to reload it after shooting at the bats.

Baloo and Rebecca entered the observatory, unscathed.

"No! No! No!" Weazel shouted. Hearing a low, loud rumbling, he looked up. Before he could react, an avalanche of snow slid from the building's roof and plopped on him with a dull thud.

Buried under a heavy blanket of cold, wet snow, Weazel moaned, "I gotta find a new job. Ah-ah-ah-ah-choo!"

End of part 5