Street Smart Part 3
The flickering flame cast a warm glow that illuminated the musty air around him, while his footsteps on the cold, uneven ground echoed hollowly, the walls closing in on him.
Tension hung in the air.
The stench of decaying trash and… other things assaulted his nostrils and caused him to wrinkle his nose in disgust.
An overhanging metal roof blocked most of the rain, creating a reverberating pitter-patter noise that effectively drowned out the busy city mere feet away.
Lips pressed tight in concentration, Baloo was confident he'd find his young companion in no time.
But all too soon, his excitement turned into bitter disappointment as he, still empty-handed, reached the alley's dead end.
Panic surged through him at the thought that he might have lost his only clue. His stomach clenched painfully. Reluctantly, he turned around, stomping his feet in frustration on his way to the exit as a wave of helplessness threatened to wash over him.
In a last act of defiance, he raised the lantern high over his head, unwilling to accept defeat, when the sign had been so clever, so unique, so Kit!
The light threw a golden glow over his desolate surroundings and cast eerie shadows on the surrounding walls. And yet the sight remained underwhelming; rough brick stone walls, a few knocked over trash cans littering the floor - their contents spilled out in disarray - and a putrid smelling puddle. Nothing else.
Determined to not waste any more precious time in this dump, Baloo scanned the area once more, searching for just one more sign, any clue at all.
And then his breath hitched as his gaze landed on a small, barricaded window. What little glass was left in the frame was smudged and dirty; the wickedly spiked shards barely reflected any light back at him.
Something else caught his attention. His heart skipped a beat.
In the recess in the wall above the window, just below his chest-level, there was something that just barely stood out against the shadows; something dark but not black.
A flicker of hope ignited within him. His pulse droning in his ears, he cautiously approached.
Holding his breath, he extended his arm.
Light penetrated the darkness of the recess, filling the air with anticipation.
His eyes adjusted and widened as he got a glimpse of what was hidden within, his heartbeat quickening in excitement.
At last, there he was. Curled up tight, the boy remained motionless. His slim, dark form blended almost perfectly into the shadows.
"Lil' Britches?" Baloo whispered, afraid to startle him awake; afraid he wouldn't wake.
No response.
The air felt thick, the only sound between them being the man's breathing.
The kid had never been a heavy sleeper; always alert at the slightest noise.
'Got him real good! Bang! Bang!'
He swallowed hard as the tiger's words echoed in his mind, clenching his jaw at the nightmarish images they provided.
"Kit, come on, wake up! Please…" His heart pounded painfully against his ribcage as he reached out with a trembling paw to shake him, feeling the dampness of his sweater and the cold underneath.
The air inside the alcove was moist, musty, and frigid, making Baloo worry about how long the child had already been lying there.
Time seemed to stretch on endlessly, each second an eternity, as he waited for a sign of life. Until finally, the cub stirred, emitting a faint moan.
Relief flooded through the adult like a gushing river. He had found him; the kid was gonna be ok.
"Yeah, come on," he encouraged breathlessly, squeezing the little shoulder some more. "Come on, little guy, look at me!"
Baloo caught a glimpse of yellow as the light reflected off the boy's squinted eye, before he covered his head again with his arm.
"Light... bad..." The weak croak was breathless and muffled, but at that moment, it was the most delightful thing Baloo had ever heard.
The large bear chuckled softly, a sound filled with relief and tenderness. His heart ached for the young cub, knowing that he had endured so much already, but as long as he could complain, there was still hope.
He searched for a better place to hang the lantern and eventually found a rusty nail protruding from the wall next to the recess. The light still shone inside, but at an angle where his broad frame shielded the kid's head.
The cub's eyes, squinting from the sudden brightness, slowly adjusted to the light.
Concern etched his face as Baloo mustered the courage to ask, "Are you hurt?"
He felt foolish for even asking.
For one, it was pretty obvious that he was. Even in the dim light he could see plenty of cuts and bruises scattered across the child's face and arm, evidence of the recent struggles, as well as the circle of matted fur on his wrist that was a sure sign he'd been bound up. The scent of blood, though subtle, lingered in the air.
Second, Baloo already knew what answer he'd get: an outright denial, most likely served with an adamant downplay of what had happened. He'd have to check him over once they got home; probably after Kit had fallen asleep.
"Yeah, I am…"
The honest answer surprised him, causing a fresh wave of dread to wash over him. How bad was it that his boy didn't even attempt to hide it?!
Swallowing his fear, he took a deep breath, fighting to keep a level head for the kid. "Where?"
"All over, but my foot hurts the most; I think I twisted it," the cub replied, grimacing as he shifted slightly.
The scent of blood intensified as Baloo knelt down to examine his foot. His eyes narrowed as he realized the extent of the boy's injuries. The skin under the dark pelt was stretched tight and discolored; a clear sign of a sprain or twist.
But still no visible blood.
Baloo's medical training kicked in, screaming at him that the injury he was looking for had to be more than a twist. He brought the lantern closer to investigate. The flickering light revealed a long, vertical line of fur, matted down and stained a darker color.
Alarmed, Baloo craned his neck to get a better look at it. He gently turned the injured foot, causing the boy to gasp in pain.
The metallic scent grew stronger, mingling with the smell of burnt fur.
Baloo bit his tongue to trap a gasp of his own at the sickening sight. About halfway up the cub's calf, a deep, almost horizontal gash stood out, surrounded by blistered skin and the charred remnants of fur.
Anger hot as lava boiled through his veins as he realized that the blasted tiger truly had shot his kid!
Clenching and unclenching his empty hand in sync with his jaw was all the outlet he allowed himself; silently venting his regret of not having punched the living daylights out of the gloating cat.
That fox guy had been right in holding him back, though. No one but him would have found the boy in here; not for several days, at least. The implication of what might have happened if he'd been locked up sent a glacier worth of chills down his spine, effectively cooling his rage down to a simmer.
He let out a heavy breath, feeling in control of his emotions once more.
Unzipping his flight jacket, the pilot stole a quick glance at Kit's face. If the boy hadn't realized he'd been grazed yet, there really was no need to alarm him.
Once the shock had worn off completely, he'd have plenty of time to rant about it.
A smirk broke through Baloo's hardened expression as he remembered a particularly amusing discovery from one of their earlier adventures: despite barely standing four feet tall, the kid had the mouth of a fully grown sailor!
'Better keep the gals out of hearing range for the next coupla days,' he chuckled in his mind, easily envisioning Becky's horrified expression and Molly's morbid curiosity.
Baloo reached into his inner pocket and pulled out a clean handkerchief, carefully tying it an inch above the wound. The fabric flapped down, concealing the gruesome sight.
With a steady hand, he returned the lantern to its previous position and reassured the waiting child with a casual tone, "Ah, we'll just ice it for a few days."
At first, Baloo thought Kit was nodding in agreement, but then he realized the boy had flinched, and he could've kicked himself.
Remembering Molly's words, he lowered his voice, the sound now barely audible over the hum of the rain above them. "How's yer head?" he asked, concern etched on his face.
"Not great..." came the quiet reply, accompanied by a rueful chuckle. "I'm pretty sure I have a concussion."
Baloo gaped, momentarily rendered speechless.
Another groan escaped from the injured boy, followed by the flash of a sly grin. "Told you I could tell."
Mouth gone dry at the memory of that particular argument, Baloo cleared his throat, his voice coming out raspy and strained. "Anything else?"
"No," Kit frowned. "But if that's not enough for you, I could take a tumble out of here; break a rib or something…"
The sound of a deep, merry laugh reverberated off the surrounding walls, blending with the rhythmic hum of the rain. The pilot shrugged out of his jacket, the fabric rustling softly as he draped it over the shivering boy. He left his hand on the cub's shoulder, letting the contact soothe his worried heart with reassurance.
"No, please don't," Baloo pleaded.
The jacket enveloped Kit, its warmth slowly seeping into his chilled body, providing a sense of security amidst the day's chaos. Snuggling into the familiar garment, and feeling the softness of the worn fabric against his cheek, he inhaled deeply, savoring the comforting smell of aged leather, food, and the distinct scent of Baloo.
It was in moments like these when Kit could almost believe he belonged, that he had finally found his place in the world.
The tired cub let out a contented sigh.
"The others are…?" he asked, his voice filled with concern, although he knew Baloo most likely wouldn't be here if something had happened to his friends.
"Safe. Thanks to you." the pilot tipped his head to one side in contemplation, then to the other. "Worried sick; also thanks to you."
Kit felt a great weight lift off his conscience at the news; a small glimmer of happiness shining through his weariness. "That's good," he mumbled, too exhausted to focus on more than a few words at a time.
The weight of Baloo's large hand resting on his shoulder was comforting, grounding him in the moment. "Papa Bear…" Kit's heavy eyelids drooped as his soft mumble coaxed Baloo to lean in closer. "I knew you'd... find me."
Baloo's eyes widened in surprise, breath stuck in his throat, caught off guard by the unexpected statement. The great bruin blinked rapidly, feeling a rush of warmth and gratitude as the child's unwavering faith in him touched his soul.
He gently patted Kit between the ears, reveling in the fur's softness that betrayed his youth. "Yer ready to go?"
Kit nodded, a newfound sense of belonging and security echoing in his voice, "Hmm-mm... Ready to go... home."
Though he didn't move to get up.
Baloo's eyes crinkled at the corners as he looked down at the cub, feeling a surge of pride and happiness welling up within him, realizing that this was the first time Kit had ever referred to his place as "home". He watched the boy's tense muscles relax, and a small smile playing on his muzzle. Reaching out, Baloo's hands trembled slightly as he carefully scooped the half-conscious boy out of his hiding spot.
He hissed through his teeth when the cold, stiff body pressed against his, though glad he was right here, and able to thaw the child on their way home. His first steps were hesitant, afraid to aggravate the injuries, but he soon gained confidence, and hurried along when the cub didn't complain.
Cradling the small head against his shoulder, Baloo breathed in deeply, taking in the scent of sweat and fear, mingled with innocence, to assure himself that the boy was truly there. It was a bittersweet aroma that tugged at his heartstrings; a reminder of how fragile life could be, and the responsibility he now carried.
It was unnerving how something so small had changed his entire life just by taking a tumble.
"Home sounds great... Kleiner Purzelbär," Baloo murmured, his voice filled with tenderness and longing.
Curiosity sparked in the boy's tired eyes, and he peered up from the shelter of his jacket. "Hmm? What's that?"
Looking down, Baloo saw nothing more than the kid's nose peeking out of his jacket. His own eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and affection. "It's what dear ol' Uncle Moe used to call me."
He smiled warmly at the young boy, his chest swelling with memories of the past, as he thought of the old sea bear; of lazy afternoons in hammocks, adventures, and stories told around campfires. Precious time spent together whenever the tide washed him ashore.
Suddenly, Baloo halted in his stride.
While the old nickname held a flood of good memories for him, he hadn't really considered its significance when he had said it just now.
Resuming on his path, a chuckle escaped his lips, transforming into a wide grin that stretched from ear to ear as he realized how perfect it suited the small bundle nestled in his arms.
The sound of raindrops dancing on rooftops and pavement mingled with the low rumble of his voice, filled with a delightful blend of amusement and affection. "It means 'Little tumble bear'."
Kit's voice barely made it out of his shelter; a delicate whisper amidst the storm awaiting them mere feet away. "That's... nice..."
Baloo held the boy a bit tighter, feeling the slight weight of his body increase as sleep claimed him, a gentle reminder of the trust the young cub placed in him. The growing warmth of their embrace and the steady rhythm of Kit's breathing resonated in Baloo's chest, bringing a profound sense of peace to his weary soul.
Stepping out of their small, smelly sanctuary onto the empty, flooded streets, the two bears were immediately attacked by the tail of the thunderstorm. Its winds howled and rain cascaded down in heavy bursts.
But for once, Baloo didn't mind getting soaked, for he was content in the knowledge that his precious cargo would stay warm and dry on their way home.
Deep voice rumbling in his chest, he quietly intoned a familiar song, his spirit soaring in a private celebration.
"Ha-oh, yeah! Don't trouble us with trouble, man, 'cause we're gone! Ba do dap doobie done…"
The End.
Well, *almost* The End ;-) hanks to anyone who made it this far! There is an epilogue to tie up a few loose ends, and since Growing Pains is part of a series, there will be more TS fics in the future :-)