Chapter 5

Three months and one week before the fight.

.

.

.

-Part 1-

"Baloo? BALOO? No no no NO NO! Stick with me Baloo!" Rebecca had dropped her notepad and was at Baloo's side in an instant. She checked for chest rise and fall and saw that he was breathing which meant that he had a pulse and was alive, for now at least. She ran to her desk and dialed the ten-digit phone number for an ambulance. The phone rang for what seemed like five minutes but in all actuality was only a matter of seconds; all the while Rebecca dare not look away from the unconscious Baloo.

"Cape Suzette Ambulance, what is your emergency?"

Rebecca was frantic. She tried her best to speak with composure, but her nerves got the better of her. "My pilot collapsed! He threw up and collapsed. Hurry please!"

The Dispatcher was very professional and spoke with a calm and concise tone. "Mam, I understand your situation, but I need some information first. Where are you located, what is your address?"

Rebecca provided all necessary requested logistical information, the name of the business, the address, and even the cross street. The dispatcher asked if Baloo was breathing, if he was on his side or not to which Rebecca answered that he had passed out and was laying on his side already. She also informed the dispatcher of a head injury Baloo had suffered a day earlier along with his confusion, constant yawning and tiredness, and major headache. The dispatcher said he would forward all this information to the responding unit and that the Ambulance should be arriving within the next five to seven minutes. Before he disconnected, he advised Rebecca to call back if Baloo's condition changed or if the Ambulance took too long to show up.

Rebecca hung up the phone and then just sat there looking at Baloo for a moment. Her mind was racing in an attempt to rectify the situation; trying in vain to somehow help Baloo, but ultimately, there was nothing she could do, her knowledge was in business not medical aid, and so she sat and waited and felt the shame of uselessness. As she gazed at Baloo she thought about her employee, her pilot, and her friend. She thought about her business and how she was going to recover from this loss should Baloo pass away this day and how she could provide for not only herself but her two children; blood and adopted though she didn't differentiate between the two. But most of all she thought about the now very possible occurrence of her poor boy Christopher 'Kit' Cloudkicker once again becoming an orphan. She took a handkerchief out of her pocket and wiped her eyes.

Her line of thinking was broken by the sound of sirens in the distance. Immediately she stood up and ran for and out the door, up the dock, and stood by the street to wave them down. She saw the flashing lights of the long white vehicle which looked dim by comparison to the mid-morning sun and started jumping up and down, her hands fluttering about, letting up only when the ambulance flashed their high beam lights at her to acknowledge her efforts.

The Ambulance came to a stop behind Higher for Hire, the two EMTs gathering their equipment and the stretcher from the back and followed Rebecca inside with all due haste. What happened next was a blur of medical equipment, movement, and flashing lights. For Rebecca it was as if they came inside, quickly packaged Baloo, and left without doing much of anything; but these men were experts in their trade and moved quicker than the untrained eye could keep up. Within that time, they had already performed a rapid trauma assessment, taken vitals, implemented cervical spine immobilization by applying a C-Collar, placed Baloo on and secured him to a Backboard, lifted him up, placed him on the stretcher, and wheeled him out to their unit; it could not have been any more than ten minutes at most. One of the technicians looked at Rebecca before shutting the doors and stated, "Mam, we are taking your husband to Cape Suzette Memorial Hospital in the Medical Center."

"I understand." She said with a timid voice. "He's not my…" the door to the ambulance slammed shut, the sirens turned on, and the ambulance was gone before she could finish her statement, "…husband."

Rebecca was left standing on the corner of the street all alone, the sounds of the sirens echoed in the distance, growing softer and softer before fading into the sounds of the city altogether. She started toward the business when she began to consider the rest of the day. She weighed the option of pulling the kids out of school and taking them to the hospital but decided against it. "What are they going to do? Sit in a waiting room and worry? No, they are much better off carefree at school today, there will be plenty of time for them to worry once they get home." Rebecca found that walking was helping her calm down and gather her thoughts and order her mind and so she decided to pass the entry into Higher for Hire and instead walk a lap or two around the business. "I need to file the Workman's Compensation forms, undoubtly that Ambulance ride is going to cost upwards of $80. Deliveries are going to be delayed or halted all together, I may have to hire a temporary pilot…." Her thoughts continued in this fashion for the next few minutes, but there was one topic she kept dreadfully returning to and no matter how much she tried to plan she was unable to work it out. How was she going to tell Kit and Molly without breaking their hearts?

-END Part 1-

.

.

.

-Part 2-

She wasn't going to do it, there was no reason to. Anything she would tell them would only be speculation anyways. She wasn't a doctor, so she did not know. "All that happened was that Baloo felt bad, had a headache, and went to the hospital. And that is all they need to know right now." Rebecca looked at the clock, the kids would be home any moment now. The paperwork was filed and had been put in the mail, there was nothing more to do on that front other than wait for a determination from the government. She considered telling Wildcat what had happened but questioned how she could. Would he be able to comprehend what with his war injury? He wasn't able to fully understand the lasting implications of Kit's adoption hearing until days after the whole thing was wrapped up even though he was sitting in the back of the courtroom with Molly. It is the same reason that no one told him about Kit's meltdown and runaway last week. Rebecca looked into going through the pile of mail and other forms that demanded her attention in an effort to distract her mind from the situation at hand. She took hold of the first letter and opened it. It was a bill for business accounts. Normally she would read it and take care of it in moments, but right now, the paper might as well have been papyrus and the letters and numbers upon it might as well have been hieroglyphs. She placed the bill back in the envelope and tossed the envelope back on the pile of mail and rubbed her eyes. There was nothing she could do, effectively anyways. And so, she sat in Baloo's big chair and listened for the sounds of smaller feet to turn the corner.

-END Part 2-

.

.

.

-Part 3-

The walk home from school was rather unremarkable, just like every walk home from school. They both had had an action-packed day. School was business as usual until 10:30am when the school held its annual dodgeball tournament complete with lunch time pizza party. Though the depression was still in full swing, there were a number of highly involved members of the PTA that insisted that the traditions of the schools not be cut, canceled, or postponed due to economic reasons which would be "beyond any elementary school student's understanding" as they put it. They insisted that the experiences of their children in school would not be one without happy memories. While these students did attend public school and the government paid for most expenses at the school, the parents of families such as the Vandersnoots and others within the PTA of the upper class agreed to foot the bill to ensure that the lunch-time-all-a-kid-can-eat-pizza-party and dodgeball tournament would go ahead as planned for everyone even in the mist of significant budget cuts. The dodgeball tournament was all for fun, but it did not come without its bragging rights, recognitions, and honors both for students and teachers. Each class in each grade competed for who would be the best. And then there were the individual rankings. The best class ended up being Mrs. Ballard's third grade class which meant that Mrs. Ballard won the right to display the shiny eighteen-inch-tall trophy in her classroom for the rest of the school year and have a tiny plaque with her class name and the current year added to the bottom of said trophy. But the best player, to everyone's surprise happened to be a draw between a sixth-grade girl named Hannah and a second-grade boy named Frankie; the first time such an outcome had ever happened! After fifteen minutes of sudden death with them dodging each other's throws while remaining within a two-by-two-foot square, the Principal had decided that, due to the dwindling time left in the school day, she would grant the two of them the title of Cape Suzette Elementary's 1937 Dodgeball Tournament Champion which included recognition in the school newspaper, mention at the bottom of the front page of the Sunday Edition of the Cape Suzette Gazette, and their names and the current year added to and on permanent display on the dodgeball champion banner in the school trophy cabinet. The teachers also had their own competition amongst themselves; however, it was held after school and students required a permission slip to attend and there would be no more pizza served at that time; the winners would be announced the following school day during morning announcements.

Molly had tried her best, but she didn't even place and Kit got removed from the tournament for kicking the balls on the ground at people instead of using his hands. When asked why he refused to stop using his feet after multiple warnings he told them that he was having too much fun playing the game this way. In all fairness, he was incredibly accurate and hit everyone he intended to, but sadly, none of the hits counted. He did though manage to gain the attention of the school soccer coach who, after Kit was reprimanded and disqualified, recommended he try out for the school soccer team later in the year. Kit said that he would consider it.

Molly was the first to speak up when they were about halfway home. "Who was that older boy you were talking to?"

"Oh, Michael? No one. He is just someone pretending to be important who thinks he knows everything because his dad read the newspaper this morning. How was your day?" Kit changed the subject not out of spite for Michael but because he had no interest in him. He was as dismissible as a fly on the edge of a soda can that disappeared as soon as it was waved away.

"I had fun, but we lost. The pizza was good." Molly rubbed her tummy still feeling full from the lunch time pizza party.

"Yeah, the pizza was great. I think I ate two whole ones by myself! Did you get enough?" Molly squinted and smiled as she slowly nodded. Contrary to Molly, Kit rubbed his belly out of hunger. Though at age twelve and not yet having started adolescence, he already had the appetite of any typical teenage boy; not that he realized it. He paid his hunger no mind. Growing up the way he did in orphanages, on the streets, and always on the run from someone, he became accustomed to the pain of hunger. Though, what he felt now was not pain, it was nothing compared to the starvation of the past, his current sensation was ignored easily.

"How come we don't have pizza more?" Molly wondered aloud, her line of thinking akin to any child asking why Christmas couldn't be every day.

"Probably because Mom or Baloo are always cooking something. That and because we can't afford it. You've seen mom go off on Papa Bear wasting time and money before" Kit shrugged as he made an assumption, "I guess we just don't have the money for it. Then again, most people don't have money for anything now days." Kit spoke with wisdom beyond his years however, what with being only four years old when the crash of '29 happened, he had not known any different.

Kit and Molly continued their conversation as they turned down one street and the next and carried on without a care in the world, oblivious to what awaited them at home.

-END Part 3-

.

.

.

-Part 4-

"MOM! BALOO! We're home!" Kit yelled as part of the daily routine while he strolled in the front door, Molly directly behind and slipping around Kit as they passed through the threshold. "Mommy!" Molly excitedly uttered as she let off her backpack and raced toward the chair that Ms. Cunningham had been silently sitting in.

Kit instantly knew something was amiss; the need to observe and constantly be aware of his surroundings had developed out of necessity for survival from as early as he could remember. Ms. Cunningham was never to just be sitting around and doing nothing during the day, The Seaduck was bobbing up and down next to the dock, but Baloo was nowhere to be seen or found in his hammock, inside, or outside otherwise, Wildcat was tinkering at his workshop like usual, which narrowed down the places that Baloo could be, and given the aforementioned factors, Kit already did not like where this afternoon was going. Ms. Cunningham woke up from her daydream with a start once Molly climbed into her lap and she instantly hugged Molly and pulled her tightly into her chest, looked at Kit, and her eyes started to water. Kit's eyes narrowed, "Mom, where's Baloo?"

-END CHAPTER 5-