Chapter 22

Nine days before the fight.

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-Part 1-

Another day another dollar. Kit wheeled one crate down onto the dock after another just like he had for the past sixteen days. He had never seen transportation crates like this before working with 'The Exchange'. They were overly large wooden rectangular prisms and had wheels attached to them with breaks on the corners and small slots to place a removable handle such that each crate was able to form a dolly all its own; there would have been no way Kit would have been able to move them otherwise. To get them down the ramp was an undertaking leaving one break on and three off and he lightly let gravity do the work on the incline once having got them moving. He had just about finished when the break on his last crate slipped and got away from him jerking him down the ramp with it. Down the cargo ramp of the plane it glided onto the dock and came to a sudden stop with a loud slam into the other crates; had they not been there the crate would have surly been lost to the bay. Kit regained his footing, wiped his forehead and took a moment to catch his breath, had he been caught between the two crates he would have been a goner. He was lucky but this slip did not escape the notice of the pilot who became infuriated instantly.

"What the sam hell are you doin' you worthless little piece of shit?!" the pilot yelled as he came toward Kit with a quickened pace.

"The break slipped" claimed Kit defensively. "But look, its ok, all accounted for, nothing is broken or missing." Kit raised his eyebrows and smiled at the pilot while patting the top of the crates. The pilot stopped just before arm's length of Kit and glared at him for a moment, "See that it is. If there is any problem, it's coming out of your pay not mine! No skin off my hide, that's for sure." With that, the pilot turned and continued his business with the dock master.

Kit exhaled with relief and with a break in his duties finally was able to take a moment to look around. "Where even are we?" Kit saw that the docks were old and that there was another vacant dock jutting out from the land on another lane in such disrepair that plant life was poking through the slats in the rotten planks below so as to look as though the marina was pulling it down to the depths inch by inch, day by day, literally reclaiming it. Up the dock toward land, he saw that there were a few buildings surrounded by dense plant and tree growth and trucks that were unmarked and were constantly coming and going, escorted in and out of the property by guards with rather large firearms; it wasn't nothing he hadn't seen before what with the rabble he had spent a large sum of time around. But the one thing that disturbed him was the silence. Of all the ports he had been to and all the docks he had worked on, there had always been idle chatter near and far. But here, no one spoke to each other except when absolutely necessary and even then, only for short sentences. No one used names, only numbers and letters. It had been weird to Kit at first but as the days had progressed he got used to it. A different pilot every day, today Kit's pilot had introduced himself as 'Shipper #4859'. He was rather unremarkable, just like all the others he had worked with since starting his "day-go career" with 'The Exchange' as he had come to find the company called itself. All the pilots were short tempered, kept to themselves, only spoke to him when absolutely necessary, and not one of them ever allowed him in the cockpit despite his offering his navigational skills at no additional charge.

"We couldn't have flown far, I'm still good on time." Kit thought to himself, looking at his watch and taking a seat on the cargo he had just unloaded. This dock here in the silence was strange. Maybe they were beginning to trust him more? Kit didn't know. What he did know was that as long as he just did what he was told, he would be fine and continue to rake in the coin. While he waited he tapped on the crate what had almost cost him his job to the tune of a song he knew and whistled in sync. Shipper #4859 was exchanging paperwork and having his log stamped by and picked up a familiar satchel from the dock master and headed back Kit's direction when Kit felt the crate tap back in tune to his song. With a start Kit jumped up, away, and turned around to face the crate just as Shipper #4859 entered earshot. "Mister! What's in that?!" Kit yelled in fearful surprise without thinking.

Shipper #4859 scowled at Kit. "Never ask what's in the packages!" There was silence for a moment, Kit only nodded at his pilot before returning his gaze to the cargo. Shipper #4859 boarded his plane leaving Kit staring at the box, "Com'on kid", he yelled uncaringly back to Kit when he was halfway to the cockpit, "I'm leavin' whether you're onboard or not."

"Yes sir!" Kit acknowledged before returning his attention to the mysteriously knocking box; the same box that had slid down the cargo ramp. He turned to walk away when he heard it knock again about half way up the cargo ramp and turned to look at it once more when the closing mechanism was engaged. As the door closed, he was sure he heard weak and muffled cries come from inside.

"Help me."

-END Part 1-

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-Part 2-

Eight days before the fight.

"Hay Kit" Clement said with a happy voice, placing his right arm over the tween's shoulders and his cigar in his mouth before tasseling Kit's hat and hair with his other, pulling Kit along, the two of them slowly strolling toward their assigned plane for the day. "What's this I hear of you breaking the rules?" Clement's voice was nonchalant however his anger was clear as he playfully shook Kit.

"I didn't mean to" Kit spoke with remorse. "I just, I heard a noise from a box that scared me and it just popped out is all."

"Kit, Kit, Kit" Clement said while shaking his head and frowning, blowing another puff from his cigar. "What are we going to do with you?"

The subtle hints of danger of being lobbed Kit's direction by Clement went beyond his notice. Kit certainly was by no means a naive child however his experiences had always been much more direct and blunt; the nuance of his current situation eluded him. "Sir, I do not scare easily, it was just, that was the weirdest thing I had ever seen! Please, don't fire me, I promise, it won't happen again."

Clement took a deep puff from his cigar and slowly exhaled as if he were thinking. "My boy, the people we work for are not very, uh, let's say, "forgiving". If you break the rules, even if you make a slip by accident, there will be consequences because then others who work for us will make a slip on purpose, and we can't have that in our line of work, now can we?" Clement was looking down at Kit, his overbearing posture clearly intimidating the boy into silence, but still he answered by shaking his head 'no'. The silence between them persisted for a short moment before Clement continued. "But! at the end of the day, the cargo was delivered, unopened, and no one but your pilot heard your little outburst. You even completed your flash-drop to perfection and ahead of schedule! Also, I like you. So, wha'd'ya say, let's keep this between us?" Clement put out his left hand keeping his right over Kit's shoulders.

"Yes sir" Kit said upbeat with a smile grasping Clement's hand and shaking it with relief, "I will never speak of it again, I've already forgotten about the whole thing."

"Good, but that is also what worries me." In a flash Clement clenched Kit's hand and removed his right arm from Kit's shoulders, bringing it to Kit's left wrist and firmly taking hold of it. The next thing Kit knew there was a short stiletto in Clement's left hand. Kit turned and tried to pull away but was overcome by Clement's superior Bull Moose strength. And then, a quick stabbing pain in his left middle finger like a pinprick and he was released. "Ouch!" Kit drew back in surprise and cradled his hand. Upon seeing the tip of his finger and the single bulb of blood on the tip, he stuck it in his mouth and sucked off the blood to look at the tiny wound clearly before returning his attention to Clement.

"What was that for?!" Kit yelled out in confused resentment, not sure whether he should flee or stay put.

"It's a warning" Clement said as he wiped the tip of his blade off on the sleeve of his leather trench coat. "One you won't soon forget. You slip again, your handwriting will never be the same, and I will have the finger of a certain little boy to deliver to my boss." Clement let his words linger in the air for Kit to digest.

Kit looked at Clement with the face of betrayal. "Who am I working for?!" thought Kit. "Should I run? We haven't made our daily agreement yet. Jameson may have been right." Kit continued analyzing his options, unsure of what to do. "But, he said he liked me, and the money is great but these people could be dangerous. Don Karnage never paid me. I'm only in danger if I break the rules."

Kit's train of thought was derailed by the sound of Clement sheathing his stiletto once he was satisfied that it was clean. "Quit yer snivelin'. That little nick will be healed up before takeoff. And now that that unpleasant business is out of the way, and I do want to be clear that that pinprick I gave you was only business, not personal, we can carry on with the rest of our day. Kit, I did say that I like you, you haven't let us down and so we are trusting you with something big, but quick; if all goes smooth, we will both have the rest of the morning and afternoon off. I will be joining you for this delivery, but today's flash-drop will be huge and you will have to carry that out on your own. Succeed and I will personally tell my supervisors of your exploits. Fail…, well, let's cross that bridge IF we get to it, hmmmm?"

"I understand" Kit said. He then stuck out his hand, "Same terms as before or better, oh, and, uh, please don't cut me this time."

Clement busted out laughing before taking Kit's hand and agreeing to their daily deal. "This is why I like you kid, you learn quick and you're down to business and somehow find a way to throw a little humor in the mix. Keep this up, keep walking the tight-line and you may have my job in a few years!"

Kit gave a sly side smile as Clement released his hand and they resumed their walk toward their assigned aircraft, "Here's to waiting!"

-END Part 2-

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-Part 3-

Three and a half hours later.

"You ready? I know this is a lot more weight than you're used to, but pull this off and we will make it worth your while."

"Yeah!" Kit said back enthusiastically with a big smile. This was his favorite part of his job. He was about to jump out the back of an airplane and surf down to a target location and get paid high dollar to do it, of course he was ready!

Clement pulled on straps and ties and other fastening agents adorning his favorite daily-employed-delivery-boy. Normally Clement would have left such tasks to the day-go and other crew to take care of themselves, but he had to admit that he was starting to take a shine to this kid. Clement had spent his life avoiding attachments; they were bad for business. But for some reason, here he was double checking Kit's entire harnessing apparatus.

Kit stood at the back of the cargo plane with two extra-large satchels slung over each shoulder, the main bodies of the bags hanging at each side and tied to each of his legs, and an extra-large backpack complete with waist and chest straps to top it all off with. All together everything attached to him including its contents had to be a little over a third of his body weight. Clement stood back and looked Kit over and became uneasy. "You sure you feel secure? I would rather you tell me now versus risk losing product, and you know what will happen if you lose it, accident or not."

Kit folded his arms and tilted his head to the side thinking of when he held onto Molly just using his right arm and glided down to safety with her on his airfoil. "Trust me, I can do it!"

"That's what I like to hear!" Clement energetically responded to the cocky kid's confidence. "Here are your drop coordinates, it's Cape Suzette just like normal so you should have no problem finding your way. You jump as soon as the pilot opens the…" before Clement could finish his sentence the back cargo bay began to open. "Well, off you go then, apparently."

Kit nodded as he walked as quickly as he could with all his extra weight to the back edge of the plane and the ramp, his airfoil in hand. He turned, crossed his arms like normal, gave a short salute with his left hand to Clement, and then fell backward and out of the plane and into ten seconds of pure freefall bliss. Clement breaking from his normal routine and coming to the edge after he fell to watch and reassure himself not realizing his concern for the boy's safety until after he observed him gain control and begin to surf. "Good" he thought in an attempt to convince himself, "the product is safe."

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Kit's delivery took a little longer than normal what with the personnel at the safe house location having to literally untie all of the straps to remove the satchels and backpack but he was in and out of there in about thirteen minutes and with a new smaller bag full of small heavy pill-shaped orange containers to boot, "How many silver dollars did I get this time?!". Clement was right, today's run certainly was worth his while. Kit looked at his watch and saw that it was still morning, he had plenty of time before he had to be back at school and given the side of town he was in, it would be a hike. He took a breath of fresh air and started walking when a thought occurred to him. He wasn't too far from the hospital and it had been a while since he had paid Baloo a visit. He resolved to visit his dad, but just as quickly that resolve melted away with a single question, "What is going to be different? More bedsores? More weight loss? More silence and feeding tubes?"

He walked with his hands in his pockets, his backpack with his pay bouncing off his back with each step until he came to the edge of the crosswalk. Straight would take him to the hiding place with his school backpack and ultimately to class. A right turn would take him up the hill to the Medical Center and Cape Suzette Memorial Hospital. Either way he had a few miles to go. Kit sighed the sigh of a person whose hope was nearly gone. He looked down both roads as if looking at different possibilities before making his choice.

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The familiar scent of the hospital's sterile air, washed floors, and latex gloves assaulted his nose upon walking in through the front entrance. The sound of machines, life support monitors, and various conversations filled his ears. He had been there so many times that he knew the layout that to most people would present as a maze. No one paid the short boy any mind, not when they saw him walking with purpose; they let him go about his business. When he finally made it to the floor Baloo was on, one of the nurses named Angelina saw him walk by her station and called his name.

"Kit", she said, "Shouldn't you be in school?" She had a valid concern and an even more valid question. But he did not care, he was tired and the only reason he was here was because, well, he wasn't sure he knew the answer to that anymore.

"Yes." He said as he continued to walk, "But I needed to see my dad. Is the doctor here?" he asked, "Can you send him to Baloo's room?" he added on coldly without waiting for an answer.

Angelina picked up the phone and started dialing the public address system while answering Kit. "I get it" she called to him as he made his way down the hall, "I know first-hand what it's like to lose a parent."

"You don't know anything."

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Kit shut the door to Baloo's room behind him as he entered, the only sounds left were that of Baloo's breathing and his own heartbeat. He stood there for a moment attempting to decide if he should stay or go before pulling up a chair to Baloo's bedside leaving the lights off as he did so. The sun was shining in a cloudless sky through the window of the hospital room, its beams leaving a clear square shape upon the floor, reflecting off the tile to drench everything in light. He hung his bag over the back of the chair and sat with his elbows on the arm rests and his hands in his lap.

"Hi Papa Bear", he said, "It's been a while, sorry I haven't come by sooner". He studied Baloo's motionless body hoping even for the tiniest reaction, but he just laid there. He reached for to grasp his left hand but stopped at the last minute, he didn't know why but something made him stop. Perhaps he wanted to remember his dad's touch back when it was strong and alive and not pollute it with a new memory of the weak and deathly form he had become and was becoming still. It looked cold from disuse.

"I hope your dreams are better than mine." He paused to allow Baloo to answer, but when none came Kit continued. "Everything is falling apart. All my friends, even Oscar, have abandoned me, the teachers at school don't like me anymore, my grades are slipping but then again that one is mostly my fault, Ms. Cunningham doesn't seem to care about me anymore, Higher for Hire is falling apart without a pilot – all the pilots are going to higher paying jobs that Ms. Cunningham can't even match, and I am doing the same, though, don't tell Ms. Cunningham I said that. Molly and Wildcat seem to be doing fine, and aside from you and Molly, I honestly don't know why I'm still in Cape Suzette. I'm making good money though, someday soon I'm gonna get out of here…"

Kit continued to tell Baloo everything what was going on in his life, and as he did he listened to himself talk. Some of what he said was normal kid stuff, some of it was exceptional, and some of it was borderline illegal. It gave him perspective but to say it was cathartic would be a fallacy. In fact, the more Kit spoke, the worse he felt, he had been doing his best to hold his life together since Baloo's accident, but he just couldn't do it. And so, he had tried to ignore or cover up the problems he couldn't contend with but they only grew and grew and soon he knew that they would grow to a point that he would not be able to ignore them any longer.

Kit told Baloo everything until he heard a knock at the door that drew his attention. He turned just in time to see Dr. Marckon's head poke through. "Hello there Kit, you asked to see me?"

Kit spoke stoically, "Yes doc. Has there been any change in Baloo?"

Dr. Marckon shook his head with a frown. "I have no updates. Your father's condition will either self-resolve or it won't. There is nothing more I can do for him."

Kit turned away from the doctor and back toward Baloo and bowed his head. It was as he figured and feared, he knew he hadn't missed much since not visiting. But then a burst of hope shot through him as he raised his head and jumped to his feet, he pointed at Dr. Marckon and exclaimed, "I want you to cure him! No matter how much it costs, no matter what it takes, please fix my dad!"

"Kit" Dr. Marckon said, "There is nothing-"

"Don't tell me that" Kit interrupted, "I know how the world works! I may be young but I'm not ignorant!" Kit slowly started walking toward Dr. Marckon. "Nothing has changed because you haven't done anything different. You haven't done anything different because all his medical bills are covered with Workman's Compensation, but that only covers basic things."

"Kit." Dr. Marckon tried to get a word in but Kit would not permit it.

"I didn't have the money before, but I do now! I got a new job and I am making more money than ever." Kit was now halfway to Dr. Marckon.

"Kit!" Dr. Marckon tried once more, but Kit kept on. It was clear the boy was upset, but the doctor didn't have time for this, he had other patients to tend to. Still though, his compassionate bedside manner overpowered his frustration.

"I will pay you, I can give you some money right now!" Kit gestured to his bag. "I have more, a lot more, I can go get it, and I can make more, I am making more all the time!"

"Mr. Cloudkicker!" Dr. Marckon's patience were running thin.

"FIX MY DAD!" Kit yelled on the verge of tears, "PLEASE!" By this time he was standing within arm's length of the doctor.

"Will you let me speak now?" Dr. Marckon asked gently with a hint of authority, to which Kit replied with an affirmative nod. "Good. Kit, I understand that you love your father very much, I also understand that you miss him. But the fact of the matter is that there is nothing more in current medical science that can be done for him; no matter how much you try to pay me."

"WHAT?!" Kit cried out in disbelief. "Just because I'm a twelve-year-old kid you don't think that I could pay for this?!"

Dr. Marckon knelt down to Kit's level and placed his hand on his shoulder. "Kit, I trust you know who Shere Khan is and how rich he is, correct?" Kit only nodded again to display his understanding. "Kit, even if you were Shere Khan with all your fortunes and resources and money and even if you summoned an entire medical board of the best doctors in the world and even if you put them together to work to cure your father, they too would all tell you that, as of right now, in current medical science, there is nothing more that can be done to help your dad other than keeping him comfortable and keeping his body alive and hoping and praying for the best."

Kit was about to snap back but was shut down by Dr. Marckon who placed his pointer finger over the middle of Kit's lips as if to say "Shhhh".

"Kit, even if you had all the money in the world, it would not help to change anything for Baloo. I'm sorry." Dr. Marckon watched as Kit turned from him and made his way back over to Baloo's bedside. "Kit, I have to go tend to other patients. If you need anything else, tell one of the nurses." Dr. Marckon made to leave but before he opened the door he took one last look at Kit with his back turned to him, "I'm sorry, truly I am."

"Me too." Kit said with a nod. And then Dr. Marckon saw himself out, leaving Kit alone with Baloo.

Once the door had shut and Kit was alone once more his thoughts which he had been fighting to keep at bay had finally broken through. He had been in denial and hopping though nearly all the stages of grief at random and many more than once, all except one. He was so angry and depressed and alone and in so much pain, and finally he was in despair. Without thinking he took the chair he had been sitting in earlier and threw it across the room with a furious roar! There it landed near the bathroom door with a clamor and bounced, the metal frame absorbing all the impacts and preventing all damage to itself and its surroundings. He didn't want to believe it; he didn't want to accept it but he knew he had to. "He's never coming back." He said to himself. It was true, and the truth was iron clad, the truth was a spear and punctured all lies, even those he had told himself when he did not want to believe. He had hoped for a miracle, but had only just been postponing a disappointment once again. He had never been on the hurtful receiving end of the truth, not like this anyway, "Is this why so many adults hated me for telling them the truth?" he wondered. "Is this what the truth feels like all the time? Is this why there are so many liars in the world?"

He felt himself start to cry but he forced the tears away, he would not cry, not here, nor now, not in public again, and not for Baloo anymore. He had shed enough tears for Baloo. If he was going to accept it, he was going to move on too. "He's never coming back" he said out loud to himself a second time. Like a witch's spell, he had to say it three times for it to become real. He opened his mouth but closed it again when no words issued forth. He didn't want to believe it, he didn't want to say it, but he knew he had to. He kept fighting back the tears, tried as he might, a few escaped, but he would not let them win.

"He's never….." Kit brought his hand to his mouth, and closed his eyes, squinting them shut as he fell to his knees and buried his face in Baloo's mattress by Baloo's side. He would not let the mourning sadness win. He was stronger than that, he had to be if he was to move on. If he could successfully refuse to weep as Don Karnage beat him into submission over and over again, he could do the same now.

Kit rose to his feet, opened his mouth and said the words a third time. "He's never coming back." And then, like magic, it was like something within him changed, as if chains that were binding him were torn and burst asunder. He did not know how long it would last, was it permanent or just for the moment? Either way, he took the minute after to breathe. He picked up his backpack off the ground from where the chair had been and put it on, and turned as if to go but stopped. He returned to Baloo's bedside, leaned over, and hugged him tightly. "Goodbye Baloo. I love you. Thanks…for everything."

Kit then stood, briskly made his way to the door, placed his hand on the cold steel knob, turned to look upon the only father he had ever known for the final time, closed his eyes as he opened the door, and left. He did not look back.

-END CHAPTER 22-