Chapter 7
The storm, continued
Don Karnage returned several minutes later, coughing and shivering. With his fur matted down to his skin in strands and clumps, he looked more like a drowned rat than an infamous pirate. He dropped his drenched coat to the floor and plopped down face-first in front of the campfire. "This… stinks! I hate this place! I hate it I hate it I hate it!"
"That eggnog musta been more potent than I thought," Kit said. "You had it over a year ago and it still gives you ― "
"Will you shut up about it already?" Karnage sat up and vigorously rubbed his arms, inching closer to the fire. "That was another miserable Christmas I wish to never hear about."
"You never were much for holiday spirit, were you?"
"Of course I am! It's always a ripe time for plunder, you know."
"Yeah, I know. But I mean about normal stuff. You know, presents and Christmas trees... and carols an' stuff."
"What, you don't remember the Christmas tree?" asked Karnage.
"You call that a tree? I remember a green lampshade with an ammo belt strapped around it for decoration."
Karnage would have shrugged if he had enough cared to waste the energy. "I slouch corrected."
"I bet you never realized that I got you a Christmas gift."
"Yes, I do! You were the one who brought me the eggnog!"
"Yeah, but before that…"
Kit was speaking of the one and only Noel he spent as a pirate, where the halls of the Iron Vulture might not have been decked with boughs of holly, but the pirates were in a jolly mood the night of Christmas Eve. Two exceptionally large cargo planes, carrying all sorts of goods, had just been captured. And to think, the pilots' worst complaint before was having to work that night.
Nearly everyone, including Don Karnage, was in the hangar, sorting through the plunder. Kit felt this was the perfect time…
The excited chatter of the pirates carried through the corridors as Kit stole through the berth deck. He passed by the captain's room and noticed he had not even in there decorated for the holiday, save for a small mistletoe hung above his full-length mirror; Kit moved along and figured it would probably be better if Karnage did not know he noticed that.
He went to the end of the hall, got on his knees, and opened a vent shaft that he used as a hiding place. Tucked away from inside, he took out a small box, a gift. He had to improvise, though. He had no shiny wrapping paper, so he used old newspaper and wrapped it around a tiny cardboard box. He also had no ribbon to tie it with, so he used old shoelaces he found lying around. But it was what hid inside that counted, and he couldn't wait to see the captain's face when he opened it.
Kit blew the dust off of the box; it had been sitting in there for some time now. Two weeks prior, he and a small group of other pirates were sent by Karnage to the town of Booklyn to see about a kidnapping of a certain rich dignitary (which, long story short, ended in utter failure). Kit, however, became separated from the rest, and while he was searching for them he wandered through the downtown district, ducked into a pawn shop just for curiosity's sake, and that's when he saw it... a golden men's luxury wristwatch, sparking inside a glass case. There were other pieces of jewelry inside the display as well, rings, bracelets, brooches, but none caught Kit's eye like the watch, though he wondered if it was a cheap replica.
A shifty looking weasel in a polyester suit, who was leaning behind the counter, noticed Kit eyeing his display. "Hey kid, get your nose away from my glass, will ya? You're foggin' it up."
"Uh, sorry." Kit took a step back. "Can I see the watch?"
"You wish."
"Well… how much is it?"
The weasel snickered. "Like you can afford it, huh?"
"I might." Kit buffed his nails on his sweater, looking uninterested. He assumed his best act at a wealthy type of voice and tone. "Daddy just gave me my allowance for the week… finally."
"Huh?"
"Yeah, it's been real hectic lately," Kit explained. "See, we just struck oil… again, and that means busy, busy, busy. They're piling money in our bank account faster than we can count it! You know how that goes. And Mummy was complaining because we haven't gone to Purree yet… we go every month, you know, but we just haven't had time lately."
The weasel blinked. The fish had nibbled on the bait.
"But it's all better now," said Kit. "We'll be in Purree by tomorrow. But today, Daddy wants Mummy and I to go out and buy whatever we want while we're here…" Kit looked at the watch again, this time contemptuously. "You know, on second thought, I think I already have that one. Silly me. Oh well, ta-ta!"
As Kit turned around, the weasel quickly zipped in front of him. "Now wait a minute, junior, we uh, we wouldn't want to disappoint dear ol' dad now, would we? If you really want the watch, I'm sure we can work something out… uh, couldn't we?"
Kit folded his hands behind his back. "But, gee, mister, I sure wouldn't want to buy it if I already have it."
"Oh, kid, trust me, this watch is one of a kind!" the weasel exclaimed. He stepped back behind the display case and opened it, taking the watch out.
'What a pushover,' Kit thought. He noticed then the weasel had a watch of his own around his wrist, one that was gold and diamond studded and, as far as Kit could discern, looked entirely genuine; it was then that he knew exactly what he intended to go back to the Iron Vulture with. "Really? One of a kind?" Kit held out his hand expectantly, and was already mentally planning a quick swipe of the schnook's wrist and his escape route.
"Oh yes!" said the weasel. "Take a closer look at it. Notice the ― " He was just about to let Kit hold it when he noticed the boy's sleeve, and the yellow patch on it. "Hey, wait a minute." He grabbed Kit's wrist, stretching the material for a better look. "What is this, some sorta gag?"
Kit wrenched his arm free. "Uh, oh, you mean the sweater? Yeah, it's kinda old. I've had it since I was little, see, and I ― "
"Save it, kid," the weasel interrupted, and returned the watch to its place in the display. "Now get lost before I holler for a cop!"
"Yeah, go 'head and get a cop, meathead," Kit retorted. "Maybe you could tell 'im who you ripped all this junk off of!"
"Scram!"
Kit stormed off, but a real pirate wouldn't give up that easily.
He looked around, searching for an idea. On the street corner, a police officer stood, jovially keeping watch over the crowd. 'Hmm… this guy's got possibilities,' thought Kit. He approached the officer as timidly as he could feign. "Uh, excuse me, Mr. Policeman?"
The otter in blue smiled at the cub. "Well hello there, lad. Lost?"
Kit shook his head, rather dramatically. "No sir. I live close by."
The officer rubbed his chin. "You look a bit startled, you do. You all right?"
"Well, yes sir, I guess so. But you see…" Kit gestured behind him. "You know that guy who works at the pawn shop?"
The cop narrowed his eyes at the shop, with a knowing sneer. "Yeah, that I do. He give you trouble?"
"Well…" Kit bashfully studied his feet. "I don't really wanna bother you or anything…"
"Not at all, lad," the officer said. "What did he do?"
"I'm not really sure he did anything, see? It could be nothing… but…"
"But what?"
"Well, I was walking past him, and he started giving me a really weird look," Kit explained.
"Weird look?"
"Yeah, and whispering stuff. I couldn't tell what exactly, but it made me feel kinda uncomfortable… and scared. And Mommy says when something like that happens, I should tell someone safe, like a teacher or a police officer."
"Well it takes a lad with a good head on his shoulders to listen to his mother," the otter said. He started walking toward the pawn shop. "Maybe I just better have a word with this person."
Kit grabbed his arm. "W-wait! Don't do that!"
"Huh? And why not?"
"Because, I told you, I'm not really sure… I don't wanna get an innocent guy in trouble, sir."
The officer looked at him questioningly. "What would you like done, then?"
Kit shrugged. "Maybe… just keep an eye on him?"
"All right then," he replied. "That I'll do."
Kit smiled sheepishly. "Thanks, sir. I feel real safe knowing you're watching out for people here."
"Do you now?" Brightened, he patted Kit on the head. "Well, you can count on me, lad."
'What a tool,' Kit thought, but said, "Yeah. I better be going now. Thanks again!" Considering his friendliness, Kit actually liked the fellow, but well suspected that if the officer knew he was an orphaned air pirate, he would have acted differently… much differently.
Kit cut through the sidewalk crowd and headed back towards the weasel's shop. But knowing he had an audience of one looking on, he did not turn his head to look directly in side, but instead started searching the ground in front of the store as if he had lost something; he kept his head turned in such a way that the officer could not see him stare at the weasel, or talk to him. "Nice outfit, toothpick," said Kit. "Your mother dress ya?"
The weasel looked at him, surprised. "You again? You talkin' to me?"
Kit acted like he was casually scratching the back of his neck. "Yeah, I'm talking to you, stupid. What are you gonna do about it?"
Fuming, the weasel stepped from the counter and toward the store's entrance. "Kid, you outta your mind or something? Get lost before I tear ya ta pieces!"
"Ooh, I'm shakin'," Kit taunted. 'That's right, buddy, come closer,' he thought. "I bet a wimp like you couldn't tear a piece of paper."
"That does it, kid, I'm gonna kick your ― hey!"
Before he could be grabbed, Kit ducked and ran behind the jewelry case, screaming, "Help! Police!"
Everyone turned to look at the scene, talking at once.
The weasel couldn't believe what was happening. "What're you ― kid, are you crazy? Shut up!"
Kit slid to a stop in the middle of the shop and motioned for the weasel to follow him. "Make me."
Snarling, the weasel stomped towards the boy. "Wait'll I get my hands on you!"
Kit stood still for a beat, giving the weasel time to draw nearer. The second he was about to lunge at him, Kit leapt on counter and pushed the jewelry case over. The glass shattered on the pavement, scattering the contents.
The weasel was more than stunned, but not for long. He lunged at Kit, but the boy ducked him yet again and ran around the fallen display. "Oh, jeez," sighed Kit. "You're really bad at this! Here, I'll hold still to make it fair."
The weasel jumped at that opportunity and nabbed Kit by his collar. "Now I got ya, you little rat!"
"Help, help!" screamed Kit, and he clasped on to the weasels wrist like he was wrestling away from him.
"You better cry for help ― ack!" Suddenly, the weasel was roughly grabbed by his own collar by the police officer.
"Hold it right there!" the otter shouted.
"B-but-but officer!" The weasel stammered. "Y-you don't understand!"
"Saw the whole thing, I did," the officer said. "You harassin' this poor lad and makin' this mess! You're comin' with me, you are!"
The onlookers started through the door in contempt at the weasel. "But you got it all wrong!" he protested.
"Quiet you!" The officer warned, and brandished his baton threateningly. "You can tell it to the judge!" Then he looked at Kit. "You all right, lad?"
"I think so… thanks to you, sir," the bearcub gave him a wan smile. Discreetly, he patted his sleeve, making sure his newly acquired watch was tucked in and well hidden. That really made him smile.
"Well, you best be running along home right away," said the cop, and pushed the weasel along. "This man won't be bothering you anymore, no sir!"
"Oh, I will," Kit replied, backing away. He cast one final smug look at the weasel and pointed at his wrist. "It's about time I got going."
Gasping, the weasel checked his wrist and saw his watch missing. "I'm gonna get you for this, kid!" he shouted as the officer dragged him away. "I'm gonna get you!"
Kit started away, but suddenly felt a sharp pain shoot through his foot. "Ow…" He checked the bottom of his heel, seeing a few spots of blood; he had stepped on a shard of glass. 'Wounded in action,' he thought with a rueful grin.
That day, Wesley Weazel was booked for harassing a minor, disturbing the peace, possession of stolen goods, including the suit he was wearing, and at the station, for groping one of the police secretaries, who just happened to be the chief's niece. The officer received a promotion.
Kit left the captain's cabin with the gift in hand, musing over how it like to spend the holidays as an air pirate. It was different, though he never really knew from experience what was normal. During his stay at the orphanage at this time of year, he sometimes found himself daydreaming of what it would be like to live in a real home, to go downstairs on Christmas morning, open the presents under the tree, and have a big dinner afterwards. Even that very night, those same thoughts passed through his mind. But he shook his head. People could have their normality... he didn't need it to be happy.
In the hangar, Karnage and others gleefully dug through the plunder, which was spread over the floor, while the two cargo planes were being stripped of their parts. Karnage was particularly occupied with a large crate full of various joke and magic novelties. Gibber was at his side, curiously examining a cylindrical object from the box labeled 'Chinese Finger Trap.'
Karnage pondered a black wand he found. "Hmm… I wonder if this could be one of those conducting-type thingies…" He tapped it on the crate, and was shocked to see it suddenly puff out into bouquet of cloth flowers.
As Kit approached the Captain, holding the present behind his back, Gibber brushed by him, miserably struggling to pull his index fingers apart.
Karnage gave the bouquet a sniff and tossed it over his shoulder. "What ignoranimoose came up with that idea… fake flowers in a stick?" Then he felt a familiar tug on his coat tail… he did not have to turn around to know who it was. "My boy, can you not see I am trying to enjoy my new pieces of pillagement?"
"I um, I got something for you," said Kit, holding up the package to him.
But Karnage was too busy digging through the novelties to pay attention. He pulled out a telescope and looked somewhat pleased. "Finally, something I can use." He put it up to his eye and glanced around the hanger.
Kit tugged on his coat again. "Uh, Captain?"
Karnage put the telescope down and looked at him. Kit tried not to grin ― there was now a round patch of black ink around his eye. "Stop that! If you keep pulling on my coat like that, you are going to stretch all the habbidash out of it!"
A little intimidated now, Kit showed him the gift. "Look."
Karnage scowled at him. "What? You know where the garbage is. I am not going to throw it away for you."
"No, it's for you. For Christmas."
Kit held out the frayed package, wanting for him to take it, but Karnage recoiled from it as if he smelled a two-week-old halibut behind that newspaper wrapping. "What is this, your idea of April foolishness?"
Kit lowered it, disappointed. "Don't… don't you wanna open it?"
"Open it?" Karnage looked appalled at the very idea. "Put that back in the garbage where you found it. And do not be digging in the trash anymore, or you will start smelling like Mad Dog!"
"But it's not trash… if you'd just ― "
"Do what I tell you," the captain ordered, and resumed exploring the crate.
"Fine then," Kit huffed angrily. Karnage wasn't listening. "'Scuse me for bothering you."
Before leaving the hangar, Kit tossed the gift into a pile of broken goods and other useless refuse from the plunder that the pirates would dump later. "I don't even wanna see that stupid watch ever again," he muttered. "And after all I did to get it for him… shoulda got 'im a pile of dog poop for all the good it did."
He looked back at Karnage, who now was trying to figure out an oversized magician's top hat. He became more sad than angry, seeing that the captain was never going to give a second thought at all to his would-be Christmas present. He felt brushed off like a piece of lint, and decided to head to the galley for a midnight snack; a full stomach might make him feel better. Plus, he wanted to check out a rumor had of some unholy concoction Dumptruck had put together under the name of 'eggnog,' and, with a wicked grin, wondered if the captain was thirsty.
"Eek!" he heard Karnage shriek. "There was a rabbit in this thing! There it goes! No, not in my plane! Somebody catch it!"
"Dar, I love der little bunny rabbits," Dumptruck commented among some chaotic crashing noises. "Dere ears are so chewy and ― !"
"Will you shut up and catch it!" Karnage barked.
"What? You made that up!" exclaimed Karnage.
"No, I didn't," Kit said. "I'm just sorry I threw the watch away… I coulda pawned it off somewhere."
"Hmph. Sounds like a cheap watch, anyway," said Karnage.
"Expensive enough for you to stick in your ailerons."
Then Karnage smirked. "Even though, it makes sense. You adored me."
"Oh jeez, will you stop sayin' that? Let's get somethin' straight, okay? I can't stand you. I don't wanna hear you, and I don't wanna look at you. The only reason we're together is 'cause I had to make a choice between cooperating with you or dying in this stupid jungle ― and lemme tell you somethin', it was a close vote!"
"I cannot understand you! You are mad at me, when you are the one who has always caused the trouble! Ever since you tried to run away from me with that stone! I am the one who has the right to be angry!"
"That's baloney."
"You stole the stone from me because you knew how much I wanted it, is that right?"
Despite himself, Kit was somewhat surprised that Karnage had figured that out. "It started way before all of that happened."
"Answer me. You took it away because it was important to me, did you not?"
"Look, that doesn't ― "
"Did you?"
"So what if I did? It was a payback you had comin'! And you would've killed me for it, too! You threw me off the Iron Vulture, for cryin' out loud! You wanted me dead! You were even laughing about it! Like I'm supposed to forget that?"
"You knew I wanted to plunder Cape Suzette more than anything in the world! It was my greatest moment! I even wanted you to be a part of it! But what did you do? You tried to ruin me! What did you think I would do, make you stand in the corner?!"
"I didn't know what to think! That's why I'm glad not to be with your stinkin' gang anymore!"
"No no, boy, I know why you did what you did. I figured it all out the very secondo you did it!"
"Oh?"
"You were jealous of me!"
If Kit had a drink, it would have been spit out. "Whuh?"
"Why else would you have done it? If you wanted to leave, you could have just left! You wanted to make me look bad! You were jealous of how great a pirate I am, and that I am numero uno, not you!"
"That's the stupidest ― !"
"It is right! Both times you tried to steal the stone, you did it because you wanted to prove you were more clever than I! I was easy on you, boy, I trusted you! That was my mistake, because still all you wanted to do was be a mutinous muttonhead!" Karnage stopped yelling for a moment to catch his breath, then resumed with a low growl, "What I did to you, I would have done to anyone else."
"That I believe," said Kit. "But I don't know where you came up with all that other stuff."
"Did you not just admit to taking the blasted stone because of what it meant to me?"
"Well, yeah, but that wasn't all why. There was a lot more to it than that."
"Ha!"
"There was!"
"Oh yes?"
"Yeah!"
"Okay, boy, then you tell me, why? Once and for final, tell me! Why did you run away? After all I did for you, what was it that made you hate me?"
Kit was stunned silent that Karnage seriously didn't have a clue. "You… you really don't know… do you?"
"It was not because you were jealous of my wonderful self?"
"No… of course not."
Karnage nodded, calmly. "Well then… if that is the truth… then I have just one thing left to say."
"And that is...?"
"Liar! Tell me the real truth!"
"That is the truth! I wasn't jealous of you."
"Yes you were!"
"No I wasn't!"
"Yes you were!"
"No I wasn't!"
"Yes!"
"No!"
"Yes!"
"No!"
Disappointed, Karnage frowned. "No?"
"No. Not even close."
"Not even… a teensy-weensy bit?"
"Nuh-uh. I can't believe that's what you actually thought all this time," Kit said. "Then again, comin' from you..."
"Are you sure? Not even an itty-bit ― "
"I'm sure, okay?"
Karnage sighed. "H'okay… then why? What was it that made you want to leave?"
Kit shrugged, words escaping him for a moment; how could he possibly explain how he felt? "I just got sick of it, but it's over with. What's there to say about it?"
"Sick of what?"
"Everything."
"What is 'everything'?"
"You, the guys. Everything. It got boring."
"Boring? Being a pirate boring?"
"Being an eleven-year-old pirate. I mean, you wouldn't let me fly…"
"Because you were being an eleven-year-old pirate. But did I not do things with you? Take you places? Let you help with the pillaging?"
"Not always, but that's not it. It was you, the way you were, especially when you got so worked up about Cape Suzette. No one can trust you, they never know when you're gonna turn on 'em. I wasn't gonna stick around for the next time you felt like hurting someone. You got no idea what you're really like."
The definitive decision to run away from the pirates came just two weeks from the fateful day when Kit actually sprang his plan into action, a plan that purposely left his former friend reeling.
The Iron Vulture was anchored at an uninhabited cove, where the pirates had schemed a morning ambush on passing freighters. That night, Kit stopped just before the bridge and took a deep breath. He had things on his mind, and hoped his captain would be in a listening mood, for it seemed he had been anything but for quite a while.
Karnage was by himself, sitting at a table, tiredly but intently studying a short stack of papers. The moonlit bridge was dark, save for a lantern on the table. Cautiously, with light steps, Kit walked in behind him.
"Uh, Captain?" he said. Karnage did not acknowledge his presence, even when Kit walked right up to his table. This was nothing new. Lately, it seemed as though Karnage barely even looked at him, let alone spoke to him. He was scheming something, something big, and was doing a good job in keeping it to himself, though his thoughts were bent on it. Adding to the suspicion, Ratchet's workshop on Pirate Island had just recently been dubbed off-limits to the rest of the crew. Kit did not know what was going on, but had picked up a few words here and there over the week… something about Shere Khan and a 'great treasure'. He planned on doing more snooping into the matter later on, but for the moment, it was not the first thing on his mind.
"Captain?"
Karnage jumped, startled at Kit's sudden appearance. "What?"
"I was just gonna tell ya that dinner's ready… whenever you are."
"So what." Karnage waved him away and returned to his papers. "I am not hungry."
"Right." Kit tilted his head and tried to see what was so interesting. It looked like a diagram of some huge contraption, like something out of one of those Martian movies. On another piece of paper was a drawing of what looked like a jewel, cut like a jagged figure eight. "What's that?"
"Nothing," Karnage said, annoyed. "Now go."
"You want me to turn another light on?"
"No, it makes my eyes hurt. Just leave."
Kit backed away, stood still for a few seconds, then approached the desk again. "Captain?"
Karnage paid no attention. "Fish bowls," he muttered. "Where am I supposed to find fish bowls?"
"Uh, at a pet shop?"
"Ah-ha! At a pet shop! I am such a gen ― at a pet shop?" Karnage looked up. "Are you still here? Did I not tell you to vamoose?"
"I just want to ask you somethin'."
"Can you not see that I am busy?"
"Well… I know, but…"
Karnage rubbed his eyes wearily. He had a piercing headache. "What?" he asked sharply.
Kit was slow in reply; the captain was never easy to talk to while he was grumpy. "I was just wonderin' if… well, maybe if tomorrow we could…"
Karnage impatiently tapped his claws on his desk. "Sometime this year, boy. Speak!"
"Do you think we could take one of the planes out and I could try flying for awhile?"
"What?"
"Look, before you say no…"
"No."
Kit stifled for a second, then gathered his nerve. "Then when? It's almost been a year!"
"Do not be complaining to me, boy," Karange said. "I am in no mood."
"I'm not complainin'. You told me you'd teach me to fly, and I've been waiting forever."
"You will fly when you are ready. Case is closed!"
"But I bet I am ready, Captain, at least to begin. Look, I know the standard flight manual from cover to cover, and I know where everything is on any one of our planes. I've taxied before, and I know I can steer."
"No."
"Why not?"
"You are too young, and I do not have the time anyway. Now shoo, you annoying little fly."
"That figures," sighed Kit.
"What?"
"I said that figures," Kit said, much louder.
"Do not be giving me the snotty tone, brat."
"But you never have time! We used to do things, but now I can stand right next to you and you don't know I'm here!"
"I have more important matters to see to than you," said Karnage. "And I am not here to take care of you!"
"I don't want you to take care of me, but I'm tired of this. I just wanna do something besides nothing."
"Perhaps that is all you are good for!"
Stung into a momentary silence, Kit suddenly blurted, "Maybe I learned from the best."
Karnage cupped his head between his hands for a few seconds in a futile attempt to quell the throbbing pain. "I suggest… you make yourself scarce," he growled. "Now."
"I have been scarce, not that you'd notice. I could run away and you'd never even know I was gone!"
"I will tell you one more time," warned Karnage, fed up. "Shut up and go!"
But instead, Kit obstinately crossed his arms. "What if I don't?"
Only too late did Kit realize he should have kept that last challenge to himself. He could practically see it in Karnage's eyes, how his temper had snapped like a dry twig. Karnage furiously stormed out of his chair, making Kit backpedal so fast that he tripped over his own feet. Needless to say, he finally shut up.
Karnage yanked him up and held him by the hair to make sure he was looking at him dead in the eye. With finger in the boy's face, he snarled, "If you are not happy, wretch, I could see that you find your way to a workhouse, or worse. When I give you an order, you will snap to it, or I will snap you!"
Kit struggled in vain to free himself from his grasp… but as he locked eyes with Karnage, feeling his breath against his face, a defiant anger surged inside him that he would not restrain. "Make me!"
Karnage raised his other hand, and in a burst of rage, swung a fast and powerful swat to Kit's face, sending the boy spiraling to the floor. Instantly Karnage recoiled, for a beat taken aback by his own actions; the sting on his hand was severe, let alone what the boy must have felt; he had hit him fiercely, with vindictive and angry strength. He glanced at his hand with a deep frown, fervently displeased with what he had done, and utterly unapologetic, for he thought the boy had already defied him too many times, and it was time the law be laid down once and for all.
Kit was silent and motionless, hunched into a ball and hiding his face.
"I will never warn you again," said Karnage. "As long as you are on my ship, you will always do as I say… or else."
At that, Kit bolted from the bridge, and ran fast out of the captain's sight. Karnage turned back to the table, and from then, felt that the boy had learned his lesson, and in the midst of greater plans, he soon forgot about the incident.
That night, Kit never joined the others for dinner, and from then on he was scarcely seen among the crew at all. He went straight to bed, with a damp towel for his cheek; he nearly wept, but even if no one was there to witness it, he was adamant not to give Karnage that satisfaction. All the trust he ever stocked in Karnage was stripped, replaced by spite, even greater than sadness. He wanted to hurt Karnage back, to get away from him as far as possible, and never see him again. There was nothing left for him there.
Karnage groaned, remembering that night. And the headache he had now was an unpleasant reminder of how he felt then. "Of all the ― you ran away because I smacked you once? Once? I smack everybody! It's nothing."
"It was to me. I had to get away. I was gonna sell the stone and use the money to start over… maybe buy my own plane soon. But it wasn't because I got greedy… and it sure wasn't because I wanted to be on my own again."
"Then?"
"I didn't want to end up like you."
"What are you meaning, 'end up'?"
"Self-obsessed, pig-headed, all alone… take your pick."
"What? I am not alone. Or any of that other nincompoopery."
"Oh no? Name one person you know that actually cares about you. Anyone."
"Do not be absurd. We have been through this! I have more admirers than Hacksaw has fleas!"
"Come on, take a hint about yourself. You don't have any friends… do you?"
Karnage shrugged. "So? Who cares? I do not w ― need friends. I am not a child anymore… I am a pirate."
"What, you think that's all there is to life?"
"It might as well be," Karnage said grimly.
"What does that mean?"
"Nothing. But if you want to live in a world of make-believing, where everyone is so caring and friendly and prancing around together like piddlely-type puppets, I do not care. In the real world, some of us have important things to consider."
"Yeah, well, that's another thing. Who wants to be around someone who thinks like you?"
"And what is wrong with the way I think?"
"Try everything. You think everyone owes you somethin'."
"No, I just take it anyway," Karnage said matter-of-factly.
"I don't mean stealin' stuff… you think the whole stinkin' world should turn around you."
The pirate rubbed his eyes and temples, wishing for an aspirin. "And that is such a terrible thing," he groaned. "The bottom lining, boy, is that I am not interested in having friends." He spoke the word as if it left a foul taste in his mouth.
"Yeah, big surprise. I guess I always knew somethin' like that about you… but… jeez, you fooled me once. I thought you were my friend. I spent a long time believin' it…" Kit's voice trailed off. Despite himself, he could not help thinking of fonder memories with Karnage… little things like fencing lessons, talking about airplanes, even tidbits of advice he received, all the way to the bigger things like the swashbuckling adventures they shared... memories that up until the moment he left the pirates, wished they could be worth staying for.
When he realized his eyes stung with unshed tears, it sparked a sudden rage. "No, you know what? I just wanted to believe it. I trusted you!"
"What? Do not be telling me about trust, you betraying little ― !"
"I am telling you! I never cared about bein' a pirate, you were the only reason I was there! You're the one that turned his back on me, you dimwit! You betrayed me!"
A deafening roar of thunder brought them both to silence.
With his sleeve, Kit pretended to wipe his brow, although he was actually making sure his eyes were dry. It angered him so much, thinking that Karnage just didn't deserve to make him tear up, not then, not now, not ever.
But even if Karnage noticed, he did not say anything about it. He sank down against the cave wall, ears drooped and eyes half shut, fixed on the campfire. Kit regarded him like he had been sedated, but not by a drug, more like being struck across the face with a two-by-four. In his weariness his spite and vanity seemed to have washed away; he looked defeated. Maybe it was because he was indeed feeling ill, but nonetheless, Kit had never seen him quite this way.
Kit ignored him and revived the fire with a few handfuls of sticks. With the relentless thunderstorm raging on, he figured they would be inside the cave until the next day, at least. He warmed his hands and arms over the flames, then laid down on his side, settling for a nap.
Then, after several minutes, Karnage spoke again: "How much… would you want to fly?"
"Huh…?"
"Flying, one day. What does it mean to you?"
"Mean to me?" Kit sat back up, bewildered. Why was he bringing that up? "A lot… why?"
"I know it does," Karnage whispered. "You dream about it."
"Well, yeah. Why?"
"And there are times when you want it so much, you cannot think of anything else."
"So...?"
"Did you not ever understand it, boy?"
"Understand what?"
Karnage drew a long breath, closing his eyes. "'Understand what,' he says."
Kit was becoming uneasy, even worried. During his vagrant years, he'd known people who had caught simple colds in bad weather, only to have it progress into something far more serious, and they would at times prattle on. Without treatment, not everyone survived. "Hey… seriously. Maybe you oughtta put your coat back on, okay? I bet it's dry by now."
"Then let it warm," Karnage said. In truth, he wanted his coat, but was too drowsed to exert the energy just to lean forward and grab it.
"Look, if you're feelin' that sick… I guess I can hand it to you if you want."
"A favor from you? No, I do not want. I am not getting sick, anyway. Just… tired."
"Fine, no skin off my nose. But what's the big deal about me wanting to fly all the sudden?"
"Tell me one person in the world you would give that up for. Your friend Baloo?"
"That doesn't make sense. Baloo just wants me to wait until I'm older."
"If you had to. It's hypo ― hyp ― imagine it."
"I wouldn't give up on it for anyone."
"Indeed. When I learned of Shere Khan's stone… and the thought of plundering an entire city became a reality… I dreamed of it. It was on my mind all the time. You have no idea."
"It's not the same thing, though. You're comparing wanting to be a pilot to shooting up a city. Small difference, isn't there?"
"No, is no difference. When you want something enough, boy… nothing would I let stand in my way, not even my own ― not even you. To plunder an entire city ― not a port, not a town ― but a city, something no one, no pirate has ever done… I would to anything."
"It's still no excuse."
"I would not have tried to hurt you if you had not stolen the estupid stone."
"You would've sooner or later," Kit replied.
"Why?"
The left half of Kit's mouth crept into a small smile. "Before I heard about the stone, I was just gonna run off with your plane."
Karnage groaned, and sank a little lower. "You had no good reason to leave."
"That's easy for you to say," Kit said. "It's not like I had any friends there. You wouldn't know, though... everyone was too scared to give you any trouble."
"Who?"
"The rest of the crew," said Kit. "Some of 'em always gave me a hard time, 'cause I was a kid, and they were jealous 'cause they thought you liked me better than..." He held that thought and cut to its bottom line: "I just kept away from 'em, but they didn't always keep away from me."
"Bah. You never had anything to worry about. It was only in your head."
"Yeah, right… like you didn't see what was goin' on. You practically egged it on yourself."
"Ugh," Karnage moaned. "Do not mention food to my stomach, if you please."
"I'm talkin' about that time those two guys broke into the Iron Vulture and stole that treasure map."
"Ahh… I was wondering when you were going to complain about that. Not that you would just forget about it since it was so long ago."
"I don't care. The way they all surrounded me… you knew they were gonna jump me, and you just let them."
"Oh, get over your whining self, will you? You only had a bump on the head."
"How would you know? You left."
Karnage wouldn't answer that one. "Listen. I promised the men that we would find that treasure… and I was angry with you. Everyone was angry. They needed someone to blame."
"You mean you did. Remember that gray-furred guy you think talks funny? When I saw him the other day, I practically jumped down his throat because of it. I took it out on him when it was all your fault…" Kit finished his thought under his breath. "Jerk."
Karnage's right ear perked up, though the rest of him remained still. "I heard that."
"Good. My throat hurts too much to want to yell anymore."
"Agreed." Karnage shut his eyes again, sleep drawing nearer.
Kit sighed and picked up a stick from the ground to fidget with. By now, he was too restless to try for another nap. Then he noticed Karnage had a bemused grin on his face. "Somethin' funny?"
"You were frightened that night," Karnage said. "Perhaps more than I had ever seen you."
"Yeah, and you knew it all along, too. You coulda stood up for me against the guys instead of usin' me as your scapegoat."
"Yes, I could have," he answered quietly.
Kit glared at him. "Why didn't you?"
The captain didn't reply.
"Did you think I did something to you behind your back?"
"No… did you?"
"No!"
"Oh."
"Like I thought… you did it just to be a jerk."
"Will you quit saying that? It is such an estupid sounding word."
Kit frowned with mock sympathy. "Aw, don't like that word? I'm sorry. Jerk, jerk, jerk. Jerk. Wanna know how it's spelled? Y-o-u!"
With much strain, Karnage slowly sat up, blinking Kit into focus. "Let me teach you something, boy. When I was half your age, I had a… mild imperfectionism. I could not swim."
"Aw, I don't care about ― "
"Quiet. Let me finish." Karnage slouched forward, grabbed his coat and spread it loosely over his lap. "I had a dislike of ― no, I'll say it, I was afraid of the water. But I still learn-ed to swim. My father… he taught me."
Kit looked up at him at the mention of his father; it was the first time he had ever mentioned his family to him. But he minded the stick he held again, trying to keep any interest from being too conspicuous.
"He took me to a dock once, and told me I had two choices… swim back to shore, or drown… that was all."
"Well, some people teach their kids to swim that way."
"The point is, boy, I swallowed half the ocean, but I did not drown. I was left to do it all on my own, and I did it. I never feared the water again… and soon I could swim better than anyone."
"So?"
"So, that! You sink or you swim. It does no good to have someone holding your hand all the time."
"Whatever. I'm actually glad it happened, anyway. That's when it finally started to sink in; some pal you were."
"You were never afraid of any of them again," Karnage pointed out. "And there would have been a day, boy, when you would have been able to brain them all if they ever crossed you."
That was somewhat of a surprising statement to Kit; in a way, it was a compliment, but apparently Karnage did not mind. In fact, there was a hint of glee in his eyes just imagining it as he said it.
"Yeah, well... I couldn't then. You coulda stood up for me."
"I did," Karnage scowled.
"Did what?"
"For your information, I came back."
Kit was stunned. "Huh?"
"I actually felt bad for your puny-type self! I did not take two steps before I went back in there to order them to leave you by your lonesome."
"Then how'd my head get socked?"
"Think, will you, boy? What do you really remember?"
"All I remember is the guys surrounding me... my head was kinda rattled already, I was dizzy... and scared. I must've blacked out, I don't know. But I do know you weren't there."
"So I was one secondo too late. Sue me."
Kit cocked his head at him skeptically. "If you're tellin' the truth, then how'd I get hurt?"
"That was your fault. You fell backwards and hit the back of your sand-filled head on the floor."
"Well next time I'll be sure to fall on my face," frowned Kit.
"Yes. You see? You did learn something from it."
Kit did not know whether he was serious or not, but there was something more important he wanted to know: "How come you never told me before?"
"As if I wanted you to know? I would not have done it for anyone else… you would have thought you were the special-type."
"Oh yeah, I was really spoiled. It doesn't matter, anyway. It was still a rotten thing to do."
Karnage let out a deep sigh, and reclined against the cave wall again. "Perhaps… but rotten is not so bad. Especially when you have to be in charge."
Kit snorted. "Who gave you that idea?"
"But excuse me, boy, have you ever been a pirate captain?"
"No..."
"Well, fancy that. I, on the other hand, have what it takes." With a smirk, he added, "And then some, like I was born with it in my blood."
"You... were?"
"Indubabibly."
"Huh?"
"That means yes."
"Oh. Then your parents, I mean your dad..."
The second Kit said that there was an awkward tension in the air. Karnage's heavy eyes raised slowly to meet his, a quiet but intense stare that read of cation.
"He was a pir ― ?"
"He certainly was not a pirate," Karnage snapped. He was prepared to say it before Kit even drew a breath to ask.
"Hey, I didn't mean anything by it, I was just wondering. I thought maybe you meant he had a ship."
Karnage fell silent; he absently stared at his coat while adjusting his coat over his lap. "My fool of a father had little more than we have in this cursed cave."
Kit resumed fidgeting with the stick in his hands, eventually holding the tip over the fire as if toasting an imaginary marshmallow. "You didn't like him, huh?"
"He did not like ― " Karnage coughed, rethinking his words. "If I could care less anymore, so can you. Besides, a father is not supposed to be there for 'liking'."
"What is a father supposed to be there for?"
"Well… to teach you things. Like how to be a man. How to prepare for the world."
"That what yours did?"
Karnage scoffed, almost laughed; then he began to snicker quietly to himself.
"What?"
"I suppose, he did."
Kit stared at him, waiting.
For a beat, Karnage hesitated to continue, but shrugged it off. "I stole my first airplane when I was your age. I crashed it just as I got it off the ground... I destroyed a couple houses, and started a fire that burned across town for two days, but not one scratch on me, si? And they never caught me; I ran away from the crash and no one knew. I ran back home... but my father, he knew, as soon as he heard of what happened. It was the last straw. He booted my booty out on the street. I had the clothes on my back and nothing else. He said never return, and I never did. From that day, I learn-ed to fight and fly on my own; and here I am, a feared pirate, deadly pilot, everything I ever wanted."
Kit's chin drooped, mouth agape. Amidst all the questions he was thinking, it was a bit difficult to pick one. "Why did you steal a plane in the first place?"
The reply was solemn and immediate. "To take it somewhere far away. Besides, it was nothing new. I had already stolen so many things... picked so many pockets, swiped so many store counters. Sometimes I was caught, most times no; and I liked to steal. I was good at it! When I crashed that plane, I was so disgusted with being poor, I could have cared less if the entire world burned."
For all the painful days spent a scavenging vagabond, Kit thought of how many times he longed to be a pilot for the very same reason, to be able to catch the wind and soar beyond where binds of the earth and all its troubles could reach. "If you had a home and family, though... was is that bad?"
The wolf shrugged. "You would never understand."
"Try me."
"Well, he thought he was always so great… and that I was… not-so-great."
"Not-so-great? Oh… I get it. Like he didn't think you were as magnificent as everyone else knows you are."
"Precisabley."
Kit sighed with exasperation. "Of course. Why else."
"You may think it is foolish…"
"What, were you born with the idea that you deserve to be treated better than everyone else?"
"Were you born with the notion that you know everything?"
"You were stealin' left and right," said Kit. "Maybe your dad was a decent guy who just tried to keep you straight."
"Decent?" Kicking his legs with a sudden spark of energy, Karnage made an attempt to roll forward to his feet, but had no better luck than if his back was magnetized to the wall. "Forget it... I can make fur drapes out of you after I wake up."
"Look, I don't wanna start another fight with you. I just think it's ridiculous, ya know? Like you thought he was dumb because he didn't worship the ground you walked on."
"Did I say that?"
"Well, that's what it sounded like."
"I told you, you do not know anything. He thought I was... was..."
"Headed for prison?" offered Kit.
"Oh yes, very funny," Karnage sneered. "You are as amusing as a blister on a bull's bottom."
"Did you make him mad a lot?"
No answer.
"There must've been some reason...?"
Karnage thought about it for a moment. As much as he didn't want to speak of it, he hated that the boy thought he knew what he was talking about all the time. "If I were to tell you… you do not repeat it. Ever."
"Sure… I guess."
"No guess. Your word."
Kit thought of how ironic it was for a cheat like Karnage to ask for his word, but nodded. "Yeah."
"Well... my father thought something of me. He would keelhaul me for stealing, if not for anything else, but even before then, since I could ever remember... he told me, he told mama, he told everyone he ever met... I never knew why. He said ― and this was my own father, boy, who made me! ― he had the 'fortestinitude' to say... to even make me once believe that... that I was..." Karnage cringed, cupping his hands over his brow.
"Hey, I promised not to tell anyone."
Karnage hesitated to speak. Instead, he twirled his finger around his head.
"Crazy?"
The mere utterance of the word seemed to strike a nerve; Karnage doubled-over as if he had been punched in the stomach. "I am not ― I have never been ― in my life... that."
"Well, you know... sometimes people use words like that, but they don't really mean it that way," said Kit. He grinned a little. "I've called you worse names than that, haven't I?"
"You think the same, no? You think I am ― that word."
"Well... honestly?"
"I already know."
Kit stared into the fire, thoughtfully. "To be completely honest... I don't think you're crazy. I thought it before, though, I guess... with the lightning gun on all those buildings... there were people down there."
"I am knowing that. And I was not crazy. I was... ambitious."
"And for a while I convinced myself that you weren't in your right mind when you told Dumptruck to throw me overboard. Kinda made it easier to think that I wasn't duped all that time before..." When he closed his eyes and thought about it, the terror was still close in his mind. The heat he felt pressing against his back from the Iron Vulture's spotlights as he plummeted, the cold air ripping by his face and drowning his own screams from his ears, and the black bay waters drawing frighteningly closer...
With a quick shudder, he shook himself from the memory. Over the fire Karnage could see Kit's eyes were heavy and glassy, sparkling in yellow before the flames.
"Why'd you do it?" Kit's voice was like a cracking whisper. "I know what you thought, but... you coulda put me in the brig, you could've done anything... you really wanted me to die."
Karnage did not reply. Perhaps he didn't hear him, although, perhaps, by the way he slid down against the cave wall as if he was going to sleep, he was avoiding the question.
"Why'd you even want me to be a pirate in the first place?"
"I am not speaking of it anymore," Karange said.
"All along, I was just another one of the things that you owned, like a pet," said Kit. There was no answer. "I wanna know," said Kit, louder. "Just tell me... honestly. I think you owe me that much, at least."
Just then, something seemed to stir inside Karnage... and it wasn't the eggnog this time. He sat up, momentarily throwing his weariness aside, looking at Kit in the most profound disbelief that had ever become of him. "I... owe you?" He pointed to himself and the boy, respectively. "I... me... owe you. Is that what I am hearing?"
"After what you did, yeah."
"Of all the ― you are the crazy one! I never owed you a thing! You had nothing before I gave it to you! And how did you thank me?"
"Then? Why did you want me around?"
"Because," Karnage spat, "I ― !" But he paused, as if he just caught himself and thought of what he was about to say. "I..." He paused yet again, sighing, and scratched his brow slowly. "You said so yourself. You thought I was ― and I... wanted..." Another pause, but this time he just slouched back down, frustrated. "You know why," he said quietly, as if only to himself.
Then, he suddenly grew embarrassed, perhaps realizing he had somehow admitted to more than he would have the boy hear. "Bah, enough of this nincompoopery," he scoffed.
Kit drew his knees to his chin and bowed his head, letting out a resigned, frustrated sigh. 'Sure... what did I think he was gonna say, anyway,' he thought.
Haphazardly, Karnage snatched up his coat and swung it behind his back, and began to lay down on his stomach; but as he rested his head in his arms, Kit barely heard him mutter, "You never had to run away."
Looking down, Kit glanced at the wadded up red scarf. He had taken it from his sweater pockets with everything else, and purposely ignored it. He never did throw it away in the jungle. The last time he had seen it was just before the infamous lightning gun attack on Cape Suzette... he had taken it off and merely tossed it under his bed before falling asleep that night. What he held now could have very well have been a different kerchief altogether; after all that was said and done, how likely was it that the pirate would have not only found it, but kept it with him as if it meant anything.
After returning to the Iron Vulture from Zaui, Don Karnage spent the wee hours of the morning in his cabin, counting and sorting Jacque Latte Mousse's fortune. During the trip back, he noticed what eager interest Kit had in the gold, by the way the boy would stare at the old wooden chest with his eyes full of wonder. Karnage knew the feeling; after all, it was the boy's first buried treasure. The captain let Kit stay up with him and look at all the valuable pieces… but made a promise beforehand that if Kit tried to take anything, there would be a new bearskin rug on the bridge.
Kit sat on the floor next to the chest, surrounded by a sea of gold coins and jewelry. He was more fascinated and amused with it all than Karnage, who sat at his desk, busy with counting and examining doubloons.
"Whoa..." Kit marveled at an emerald-studded gold crown. "Did you see this one, Captain?"
"Yes yes, I saw it," Karnage absently replied, not paying attention to what he was talking about.
Kit polished the crown's precious metal with his sleeve; its green stones glistened with a fractured reflection of his face. He put it on his head, just to see how it felt. It was far too big, and folded his ears down. "Whaddaya think? Was I made for royalty or what?"
Karnage looked at him and groaned. "Boy, I said you could look, not wear."
Kit pulled the crown off his head and set it down gently. "Jeepers… how much do you think all this stuff is worth?"
"More than you could fit in a piggy-bank," said Karnage, eyeing a coin with his magnifying glass with express admiration. Gold always did look much better up close.
"I bet it could buy a lot of planes…" Kit picked up a nearby doubloon and studied it. He'd never seen so much gold before in his life, let alone touched it. He would have loved it if he could keep one. "Hey, Captain?"
"What?"
"Do you think I could have ― ?"
"No," Karnage was quick to answer.
"But there's so many… just one?"
"I said no. This is a serious treasure, boy. You are too young."
Kit frowned. "Am not…"
"Are too!" Karnage said. "Besides, what would you do with a gold doubloon? Walk into a candy shop and ask for a chocolaté bar?"
"Well… no. I could just get the chocolate with the ol' four-finger discount, right?"
The two grinned at each other. "Now you are learning," Karnage said.
"So what do you do with stuff like this?" asked Kit.
"We take it all back to our secretive hideout, of course."
"Do you split it with your men?"
"Yes… sort of," Karnage said. "You see, a captain has a special arrangement with the crew."
"Yeah? Like how?"
"What's mine is mine, and what's theirs is ours. You see?"
Kit nodded. "Sounds like a pretty good deal if you happen to be the captain."
Karnage laughed fiendishly. "You had better be believing of it."
"Can I ask you a question?"
"You have been asking me questions all day," Karnage said, although not yet annoyed. "What is stopping you now?"
"Well, I was just thinkin', after I helped with the museum tonight…" Kit cupped a string of pearls in his hands, caught breathless in their glistening beauty. "Wow," he whispered. He looked up at Karnage, unsure of how to ask what he wanted to. "I can be a pirate, too, can't I?"
Karnage nearly laughed ― he thought that was made quite obvious already ― but he forced his countenance solemn. "I thought you want to be a pilot."
"I could be both," said Kit. "You are."
"Once a pirate, a pirate for life, boy. You think you have any idea what you want?"
"As long as I'm with you," shrugged Kit.
"Well then, let's see what you got." Karnage set down the gold doubloons and leaned back in his chair, eyeing Kit as if inspecting him from head to toe. Then he gestured for Kit to stand up and come toward him, and, as the boy did, rubbed his chin oubtfully. "I don't know. You don't look like much of a pirate."
"What can I do?" asked Kit, looking himself over.
"Snarl," said Karnage. "Show me your pirate face!"
"Um... grrr!" Kit scowled and brandished his teeth, though he elicited no approval from the captain.
"No no, more teeth, more wrinkle in the nose, like you have fangs!" said Karnage. "You have to be scary!"
Kit had his face warped as best as he could. "Dis 'etter?"
"Tsk, awful," said Karnage, shaking his head. He got up and had Kit follow him to his bureau, while asking, "What can you do that a pirates does?"
"I bet I could fly like you've never seen before," answered Kit quickly and with confidence, if not hopefulness.
"That I am sure," groaned the captain. "Like I have never seen before."
"And... I can steal," said Kit. "And I'm not scared of a fight!" He grinned sheepishly as he noticed Karnage looking pleased with those answers. "And... I'm not sure what else. I'm kinda new here."
Karnage took from one of the bureau's drawers a red kerchief, and he held it by the corners toward Kit's shoulders, sizing him up with it. "To be a pirate takes no experience," he said. "Only loyalty." As he spoke, led Kit the nearby full-length mirror, and behind held it in a triangle fold under his chin. "You can have anything you ever dream if you are willing to simply take it. But if you ever take it from me, it will be your last mistake you make, you know what I'm saying?"
Kit caught the wolf's serious glare in the mirror's reflection, and he did not need to be drawn a picture to take his meaning. "Got ya. But... I can fly, right?"
"Of course not!" replied Karnage. Kit's face fell glumly, but was brightened up just as quickly when Karnage added, "Yet."
"Yeah?"
"I am supposing that one day I could bestow upon the blank book that is your brain my sensational flying skills," said Karnage, placing his hands over Kit's shoulders. "You, my boy, with me, would make a most worthy pirate. I am not holding my breath, but you might even learn how to swing a dagger without ruining your captain's pants! And you would like it much better than where you have been before, yes-no?"
Kit's ears were practically glowing as he took in all of what Karnage was saying. Never had he been thought of as worthy in someone else's eyes, and never had dreams of aviation, adventure, and riches been so real and so close to grasp. Realizing he would not again have to sleep in a street, go hungry, or be alone, his hand met Karnage's, feeling his knuckles as if he wanted to make sure he was not going to wake up that moment and find himself laying in a dark alley. "I don't ever wanna leave."
"Then…" Karnage at last brought the scarf fully around Kit's neck and tied it. The boy was truly looking like a pirate already. "You are with me from now on, yes?"
Through the mirror, Kit saw Karnage's expression… he was proud, but not of himself. He was proud of Kit.
"Yes," the cub smiled.
A broken promise. It was like a black, foreboding cloud that hung over him when Baloo had told him, in striking similarity, just after he left the pirates, 'Aw, forget about them, Lil Britches... from now on, yer with me!'
By then, there was no reason to tell Baloo that such words had already been spoken in another place and time, or speak of how much it hurt to have your trust stolen and shattered by your best friend. Kit had several reasons to despise Don Karnage, perhaps more reasons to hate him than anyone else, but there was no kidding himself; he despised Karnage the most because once, in a life not very distant in the past, he loved him.
He folded the scarf into a triangle and held it by its corners up to his chest. Seeing it dangle under his collar again brought about a myriad of feelings, like a year's worth of deja vu, with all his days as a pirate flashing through his mind. Like reminiscing through an old photo album kept in his thoughts, he passed through the fun and difficult times alike, but most of all, there was the mentoring of a charismatic captain who he once thought the world of.
The scarf was heavily wrinkled like it had been stashed in the pocket through many laundry cleanings, and it was missing peculiar knicks and scuff marks that he seemed to remember being there... and he was ever self-conscious that he was sitting there studying it so much to determine if it was the same that was given to him. Finally it made sense, though; he was hoping it was the same scarf, that Karnage somehow was still thinking of him, just as he was hoping for a lot of things about Karnage that he wished were true.
He looked across at Karnage, who had fallen asleep, shivering a little from the wind that swept inside the cave now and then; his coat had fallen to his side. Kit thought about the things that might have been, where he would be that day, had he never left. He considered how happy he was now... and yet, how he wished it could have been different, to never have wanted to run away because he knew he was held high in someone's heart.
Kit folded the scarf and rolled it up in his fist, slowly crawled toward Karnage's coat, and tucked the scarf back in the coat's last intact pocket. Karnage would never know, so Kit thought, how he felt the day he decided to run away. He looked down and saw the heartless pirate who would readily throw others' lives away for his own greed. Karnage would never know his hurt, and certainly never his anger. Kneeling over him, Kit thought of all the things he would have wanted to get off his chest; to shout in the wolf's ear with curses and insults; to kick him in the jaw and see how his smug his face would be after that; to simply hurt him in any way, to exact some amount of revenge.
He couldn't. When his chance had finally come, he did not want to see him hurt. He wanted to see him as he first knew him, the captain whom he would have followed to the ends of the earth.
He spread the coat back over the captain's shoulders, watched him for a moment as his shivering quelled, then crawled back to the other side of the fire, and laid down on his side. Sleep would not find him easily that night.
Outside, the sky grew darker yet, and the mist of the fog crept across the mouth of the cave, washing the jungle invisible under its grey breath. Only when lightning struck could the trees be seen as brief, flickering silhouettes. The rain poured relentlessly, never slowing through dusk and nightfall.
