Chapter Ten.

The Desert – Outside Raceville

"Baloo, watch out!" Kit shouted. "On your left!"

Baloo saw it just in time - a large rock formation coming up on the left side. He turned the steering wheel of the Sea Duck sharply to the right. The plane buzzed past, avoiding a crash by only a few feet.

They were zooming through the gorge at breakneck speed. There were massive rock formations everywhere – sticking up from the ground, jutting out from the walls. The slightest pilot error would send the Duck crashing into one of them.

"This gorge is a death trap, Kit!" Baloo complained. "Why'd you lead us this way?"

"Don't yell at me," Kit snapped. "We're in dead last place right now. And this shortcut is the fastest way through the the course! It's not my fault we fell behind so much in the first lap!"

"That wasn't my fault either! Jarrett almost ran us into the ground!"

"You were practically breathing down his tail, Baloo. We should have stayed back!"

Baloo dodged another rock formation. The plane lurched so hard the glove compartment popped open. Comic books and unpaid parking tickets poured onto the floor.

"Okay, Mister Racing Expert. I'll keep that in mind. Now can you find us another route that isn't so life-threatening?"

"Fine," Kit said coldly. With a single swipe, he snatched the map of the racetrack from the dashboard. "Climb to two thousand feet. Head ninety degrees east. That's it. You happy now?"

"I'll be happy when we're not in last place anymore," Baloo grumbled. He pulled the steering wheel up to put them in a climb, then glanced down at the gyrocompass to confirm their heading.

Kit's face suddenly went white. He pointed out the windshield. "Baloo, look out!"

Baloo looked up, but it was already too late. The rock must have come loose from the top of the gorge. It was hurtling down towards them like a wrecking ball. It was only about the size of a watermelon, but that was plenty big enough to cause serious damage. He watched helplessly as it sailed over the windshield and past his field of vision.

There was a sickening, metallic clang from the left wing.

"Oh, no! Not my baby!" Baloo cried. He looked out the window to see a huge dent in the side of the engine. The machinery was sputtering like an old man with a cold. He felt a stabbing pain in his chest, like he was the one who had been injured.

Kit looked over Baloo's shoulder, trying to see the extent of the damage. "How bad is it?" His voice had lost its snarky edge, and he looked genuinely concerned.

Baloo shook his head. "Not good." He pointed to the airspeed indicator. It was struggling to stay above the red zone. "We're losing power fast!"

"What do we do?"

Baloo grimaced. He was flipping switches on the dashboard, trying every trick he knew to compensate for a lost engine. Nothing was working. "Forget the race," he said finally. "We gotta land and have a look at that engine. Otherwise we might not even be able to fly home."

Kit nodded. Without a word, he sat straighter in his seat and buckled his safety belt.

Baloo craned his neck toward the windshield, looking for a place to land. He quickly spotted a flat swath of ground nearby. It looked clear of rocks and other obstacles. He took a deep breath, then pushed the throttle to the max to give the good engine as much juice as possible.

"Hold on! We're going in!"

Time seemed to slow down as Baloo guided the plane towards the ground. A rocky outcropping jutted out from the wall, blocking their path. He steered gently under it. He flew over another hunk of rock that vaguely resembled Colonel Spigot's head.

Baloo looked at the good engine. It was shuddering from side to side, pushed to its limits. He stared intently at it, willing the machinery to hold together. "Come on baby, don't fail me now!" he pleaded.

The ground got closer and closer. As Baloo neared the landing site, he could almost see the cracks in the rocky floor of the gorge. The entire plane shook as the front landing gear touched down, followed by the rear. Baloo jammed on the brakes. They taxied forward for a few hundred feet, then finally, gratefully, rolled to a stop.

He let out a sigh of relief. "You okay, li'l britches?"

"I'm good," Kit replied. After a moment, he added, "Thanks."

They heard the drone of aircraft on the horizon. They looked up just in time to see several planes in the distance race by. They didn't stop or slow down; they were flying too fast and too far to see two of their fellows stuck in a gorge. Not that they would have cared anyway; they were too busy trying to win. In a flash, they zipped over the horizon, flew behind a hill, and disappeared.

Baloo sighed as he watched the racers fly off. "What happened to us, Kit?" he said sadly. "That used to be us! Now we can't win a race to save our bacon. Heck, we haven't even placed in a week!" He slumped back in his chair.

Kit stared stoically out at the horizon. "Look, you can blame me if you want," he muttered. "I'm the one who gave you those directions. I'm the reason why we haven't won in a week. Maybe you should just race without me." He unbuckled his safety belt and stood up.

Baloo sat bolt upright. "Now hold on. I never said that, Kit."

"You don't need to say anything. We both know what's going on. And I can't be much help right now."

Baloo stared at Kit's face, searching for answers. "Whaddya mean? What's going on?"

Kit's face scrunched up with emotion. Since their trip to Cape Suzette more than a week ago, the subject of Higher for Hire hadn't resurfaced between him and Baloo. But he hadn't stopped thinking about what happened. In fact, it was quite the opposite. Now, as he faced Baloo, he felt his emotions like like a tidal wave inside him, bursting to get out.

With sudden energy, he threw up his hands into the air. "Isn't it obvious? It's about Miss Cunningham!"

Baloo's jaw dropped. "Becky? What does she have to do with this?"

Kit's glare was as cold as ice. "Look, I get why you don't want to help her. Like you said, it's a lot of money. But she's one of the only adults that ever cared about me. So you can't expect me to just...go on and play navigator like nothing's happened!"

Baloo felt a lump in his throat. "Kit…" he began. He didn't know what to say after that.

Kit reached for the cockpit door. "I gotta take a walk," he said. "I'll see you later." Before Baloo could stop him, he opened the door and jumped through it.

He walked for a long time, just trying to be alone. He passed some tall rock formations. Then some short rock formations. He walked on. There were really only two directions he could walk in the gorge, so he wasn't worried about getting lost.

Eventually he got tired. The sun was beating down on him, so he took a seat underneath a boulder lying against the wall of the gorge that seemed to offer some shade. Being out of the sun felt wonderful. He pushed his back up against the boulder and relaxed.

As he sat there, he was a bit surprised that Baloo hadn't come to look for him yet. At the very least, Baloo was going to need help fixing the Sea Duck's engine. Kit looked over in the distance. Far away, he could still make out the distinct shape of the Sea Duck parked on the sand. It's not a big deal, he thought. I'll go back on my own.

He felt his eyelids growing heavy, and leaned his head back against the boulder. Just need to rest for a few minutes…

The next thing he knew, the rock against his neck had turned cold.

He sat up and looked around. The sun was setting on the horizon, and the sky had turned a deep purple hue. The rock formations cast long shadows everywhere. Kit's stomach lurched. He wasn't sure how long how long he'd been asleep, but he knew that it had been for far, far, too long.

"Whoops...that wasn't supposed to happen," he groaned, burying his face in his hands. "Time to head back." He got to his feet quickly, then looked over to the spot where the Sea Duck was parked.

There was nothing there.

"Oh, shoot!" he blurted out. His mouth fell open in astonishment.

"Relax," a voice spoke out of the shadows. "I'm not about to leave ya behind."

"Yikes!" A startled Kit leapt almost three feet into the air. He landed back down, lost his footing, and did a spectacular faceplant right into the sand. He rolled over onto his back, spitting sand everywhere.

Baloo stepped out from the shadow of the boulder. He leaned over Kit's prostrate frame and extended his hand. Kit grabbed it, and Baloo helped him to his feet. "Took a while to find ya out here, though," the big bear said. "Could ya leave some bread crumbs or somethin' next time?"

Kit breathed a sigh of relief. "Thanks for waiting up for me. Where's the Sea Duck?"

Baloo pointed to a spot in the gorge all the way across from where the Sea Duck previously was. The plane was sitting there, safe and sound. "I moved her over there. Had to get some better lighting so I could work on the engine."

Kit was impressed. "You worked on the engine? By yourself?"

"Yup. I think I managed to fix her up too." Baloo puffed out his chest a little. "Well, best I could, anyhow. I ain't no Wildcat, but it should be enough to get us back to Raceville."

Kit rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. "Sorry I was out here so long. I, uh, didn't mean to fall asleep."

"I figured."

"Should we head back now?"

Baloo held up his paw. "Hold up a minute, Kit. Can I talk to ya about something first?" He sat his large rump down on the sand. Then he patted the ground next to him with his paw, motioning for Kit to sit down too.

Kit grimaced. Talking was most certainly something he did not want to do right now. He knew Baloo was going to chew him out for costing them that race. Reluctantly, he walked over and took a seat next to the big gray bear. He was a little surprised at how cold the sand had become.

"So, uh…" he mumbled. "I guess you're going to yell at me now, huh?"

Baloo looked surprised. "Yell at ya? No, no, li'l britches. Nothin' like that."

"Really? Then what is it?"

Baloo looked out at the sunset, away from Kit. "Listen, kid. I thought about what you said," he said quietly. "And you're right. I've been kind of a jerk lately."

"Huh?" Kit looked up, surprised.

Baloo turned and looked directly at Kit. There was a genuinely sorrowful expression on his face. "I didn't realize how much you cared about Higher for Hire. But I should have. Been so focused on racin' I haven't really thought about anything else. And I'm sorry about that."

At the mention of Higher for Hire, Kit felt a sharp pang in his stomach. He wasn't sure what to say at first. He kicked at the sand on the ground, feeling it sift between his feet. "Really? Do...do you mean that?"

"Yes, really! You're my best friend, Kit. Friends look out for each other. They pick you up when you're down. I shoulda talked with you more about what happened!" Baloo clenched both of his fists at his sides. He looked at Kit with determination in his eyes. "And you know what? From now on I will. So if you wanna talk about anything, anything at all...I'm here. Got it?"

Despite the cold, Kit felt his heart warm up. Other than Miss Cunningham, Baloo was the only adult he knew who actually cared about him. Sure, they fought with each other sometimes. But in the end, Baloo was always there for him. Kit wasn't sure what he'd be doing if he'd never met him. But he was grateful that he would never have to find out.

Kit blushed. "Gee...thanks, Papa Bear."

"Don't mention it, kiddo. Now we can head back." Baloo stood up from the ground and started walking toward the Sea Duck, but Kit quickly stopped him.

"Hold on a minute!" Kit said. "What about Miss Cunningham?"

Baloo raised a curious eyebrow. "Whaddaya mean?"

Kit got to his feet. "Talking about what happened might make me feel better. But it's not going to help her. The only thing that will is getting back Higher for Hire. So..." Kit crossed his arms across his chest, letting his unspoken question hang in the air.

Baloo sighed. He spoke slowly, trying to let Kit down easy. "Kit...I'm sorry. Maybe I didn't make this clear before, but...the dough's just not there. Buying back a whole business takes a lot of cash. More than we got. Even if we gave up everythin' we've saved up so far, it still wouldn't be enough to get back Higher for Hire."

Kit's shoulders slumped. His heart sank. "Oh," he said quietly.

"I'm sorry, kiddo. I know how much you want to help her. Maybe we'll win a big race one day and be able to help out. But sometimes...things just don't work out the way you hope they will. No matter how much you care, or try to make things right. I'm sorry."

Kit knew Baloo was right. But it wasn't what he wanted to hear. He dug his toes deeply into the sand, feeling the sting of the sand grains as they pressed into his skin. "It's just not fair what happened to her," he muttered.

"I know, kid."

"And I feel like…" Kit's voice trailed off.

"Like what?"

Kit bit his lip. "Well, it sounds stupid. But I feel like maybe we could have done something." He balled his hand into a tight fist. "I just keep thinking...what if we'd been there? Maybe we could have done something. Maybe she wouldn't have given so much money to someone she didn't know. Maybe you would have talked her out of it. Maybe none of this would have happened."

Baloo walked over to Kit and placed his hands on the kid's shoulders. He looked down so that his face was directly in line with Kit's. "Listen, Kit," he said firmly. "What happened wasn't your fault. Don't ever forget that, ya hear? And Becky's lucky to have a friend like you." He paused. "So am I."

Kit felt a giant lump in his throat. He had to bite his lip to keep from crying. Blinking back tears, he embraced Baloo's midsection tightly.

"Thanks, Papa Bear," he whispered.

Raceville - Ignatz's Hotel

Three hours later

"Extra! Extra! Read all about it!" The paperboy stood outside the entrance of Ignatz's hotel, shouting at the top of his voice. "Plane crash at Lucky Sevens 500! Pieces monkeys prime suspect! ...Would you like a paper, mister?"

"Huh?" Baloo said. The paperboy, a stocky young piglet, was standing in his way, aggressively shoving a newspaper in his face. It was Raceville's local rag, The Daily Leader. On the front page, he could see a dire-looking photo of an airplane wreck lying on a city street in flames.

Kit's face fell when he saw the paper. "Oh no! Was there another accident?"

It was at least the tenth time they'd seen a headline like that in the past week. Seemingly overnight, pieces monkeys had invaded Raceville. No one knew how many there were, or where they had come from. But it was the talk of the racing community.

"Yessir!" the paperboy said. "Five cents and you can read all about it!"

"We'll take a paper," Baloo said quickly. He handed the paperboy a nickel and he wandered off.

Together, Baloo and Kit found the start of the article on the front page and began to read.

RACEVILLE - This year's running of the historic Lucky Sevens 500 took a dangerous turn when one of the racers' planes went out of control just after takeoff and crashed into Casino Row. The pilot survived, but was taken to the hospital with major injuries.

An inspection quickly revealed that the accident was caused by sabotage. Investigators found that the tail of the aircraft was partially sawed off prior to takeoff. Long claw marks were found on the fuselage around the sawed-off area, and a hacksaw was recovered from the wreckage.

All of these signs point to the pieces monkey, a dangerous animal from the tropics. The creatures are well-known for sabotaging planes, and evidence is growing that several of them may be loose in the city. Since last week, there have been at least ten accidents where evidence of pieces monkey activity has been found. While there have been no confirmed sightings or captures so far, it is believed there are at least three of them in the city. Authorities have been searching for the creatures day and night, but thus far without success…

Baloo put the newspaper down. He'd read enough, and this particular article was no different from the other related ones he'd read in the last week. He shook his head. "Whew...this is bad. Pieces monkeys are a plane's worst nightmare. I can't believe they're runnin' loose around Raceville!"

Kit stared thoughtfully at the picture of the flaming wreck on the front page. "I wonder how many of them are loose. I don't see how an animal that small could cause an accident that big!"

"There don't have to be that many of them, Kit," Baloo said didactically. "Back in flight school, they taught us there's two things that take apart a plane in mid-air. One's a hurricane. The other's a troop of pieces monkeys. And they can do it in twenty minutes flat!" He sighed. "Racin's dangerous enough as it is. We really don't need pieces monkeys makin' things even worse."

"Maybe we should ask Ignatz for another vacation. Just not race until they catch all the pieces monkeys," Kit suggested.

Baloo smirked. "Ignatz givin' us another vacation? That's about as likely as those monkeys carryin' me off and makin' me their king," he quipped. He started walking toward the entrance of the hotel. "Come on, let's go meet with the boss."

Ignatz's Racing Office

Ignatz looked up as Baloo and Kit entered his office. "About time you guys got here," he said. He had been in the middle of doing some paperwork. Of course his tiny bird hands weren't big enough to actually pick up the papers he was working on, so he had to spread the entire thing all over his desk, then stand on top of whichever area he was working on.

Baloo sighed. He was exhausted. Between losing the race, fixing the Sea Duck, then flying back to town, it had been a long day. He wasn't in a mood to trade barbs with Ignatz. "Yeah, yeah. We had a little engine trouble, that's all," he said, trying to sound casual.

"So. How did the race go?"

Baloo shuffled his feet. "Uhh...what race?"

Ignatz narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "The race. You two. Just ran."

"Oh," Baloo said. "Ohhhhh!" He was acting like he'd forgotten to get some milk at the corner store. "Silly me, I must have forgotten." He cleared his throat. "Well...ah...you know how ya told us you wanted our results to be more consistent?"

Ignatz tapped his foot on the desk impatiently. "Get to the point, will ya?"

"Well, uh...I guess we've been doing that. Being consistent, I mean. Because we finished in last place again." Baloo quickly averted his eyes from Ignatz's gaze and stared at the floor.

Ignatz's beak fell open. He glared at Baloo. Then his face turned bright red and his body started to shake. The motion was subtle at first, almost imperceptible. But with frightening speed, it grew more and more violent. Within seconds, Ignatz's body was rocking back and forth like a tea kettle left on a stove. There was almost steam coming out of his ears, too.

Baloo took a step back. "Easy there, Iggy!"

Kit recoiled in horror. "He's gonna have a meltdown!"

"Take cover!" Baloo spotted a carafe of water on the desk. He grabbed it and held it up high in the air, ready to splash Ignatz with it.

Then, all of a sudden, Ignatz stopped shaking. His face returned to its normal green color. "Oh well," he said, with a slight shrug. "Can't win 'em all."

Slowly, Baloo unclenched his eardrums. "T-that's it?"

"That's it. Let's move on."

"But...I thought you'd be more mad at us! I mean, we have been pretty bad lately."

Ignatz waved his wing dismissively. "Nah. There's no point in getting mad about these small races. Truth is, they don't really matter."

Baloo felt his blood pressure spike. "Whaddaya mean, those races we lost didn't matter? They sure mattered to me and Kit!" he sputtered.

Ignatz chuckled. "That's the difference between me and you, Baloo. You think small. And I think big." He pulled a brightly-colored racing poster out of the drawer and slapped it flat onto the desktop. "Here. Take a look at this."

Baloo stared. "What is it?"

"Your next race."

Baloo and Kit leaned closer to read the poster. On it was a remote desert landscape. A giant expanse of sand stretched to the horizon, decorated by an ancient, dried-up riverbed. A pair of sleek-looking racing planes streaked across the sky above. Bold red letters at the top of the page read:

"THE DEATH VALLEY RALLY"

"This is it, guys!" Ignatz said excitedly. "The big kahuna! The jackpot for this one is ten times what you've been competing for so far. It's the largest race around these parts...the Death Valley Rally!"

Baloo and Kit stared at the poster, their eyes transfixed. They didn't recognize the landscape on the poster, even though they had raced in all deserts around Raceville by now. But this place looked even more desolate than anything they had seen before.

"The whole racetrack is isolated deep in the desert," Ignatz said. "Really deep - much farther in than you guys have been before. We're talking miles away from Raceville."

"Isn't that dangerous?" Kit said.

"Well, yeah. Of course it is, kid," Ignatz said with a shrug. "That's why the jackpot is so high. You get lost on the racetrack or crashed out there, you're so far away from civilization that you're pretty much done for."

Kit raised an eyebrow. "How long has the race been going on for?"

Ignatz stroked his chin, thinking. "Let's see…oh, the first one was last year."

Baloo cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Uhh...I don't know about this, Ignatz. Can't we enter a race with a safer location?"

Ignatz shook his head emphatically. "Afraid not! I've already signed you guys up for a spot! Remember, when you took the job we agreed that I pick which races you guys enter. And I want to play for bigger stakes from now on."

Baloo sighed. That was easy for Ignatz to say; it wasn't him risking his neck out there. But he also knew it would be best to just agree. His last win was a long time ago. If he tried backing out of races now, Ignatz might very well drop him as a sponsor – and with his recent performances, he wasn't sure he'd be able to find another one.

Besides, a huge jackpot was a huge jackpot.

"All right, Iggy," Baloo grumbled. "We'll do it." He turned to Kit. "Ignatz, Jarrett, pieces monkeys...and now we get to fly into the middle of a giant sandbox. This gig just gets better and better, don't it?"