Chapter 6

Three months and one week before the fight.

.

.

.

-Part 1-

What stuck out the most about the cab ride to the hospital was how quiet it was. The sounds of the hustle and bustle of the city at rush hour somehow seemed to acknowledge the somber situation and lower its collective voice in respect to the thunderous silence the current family of three shared. Molly sat behind the front passenger and looked out the window paying attention to nothing in particular, Rebecca did the same but straight ahead to the road directly in front. The two of them appearing calm but tense. And Kit, he stared out his driver side passenger window focusing not so much on what he saw outside as much as what he was feeling inside, and the dark places of his mind he was treading; he was starting to feel warmer. All Kit and Molly were told was how Baloo was talking about how he got a head injury on the last delivery he made but Kit knew that he wasn't getting the whole story. This aggravated the boy, but he let it go and actually understood the reasoning on account of them going to the hospital where all would be revealed to them by the doctor anyways. Still though, he wasn't stupid nor naïve, quite the opposite actually. Whatever news there was to share, he could take it; he was no stranger to the ways of the world or the perils within it. He wanted to protest, he wanted to be told everything now, but held his tongue on account of the little girl next to him.

The cab pulled up to Cape Suzette Memorial Hospital and the family emptied out to the relief of the driver who could sense the tension so thick in the air he could cut it with a knife and serve it as an appetizer for a dinner entrée. Within moments Kit, Ms. Cunningham, and Molly had entered the lobby, asked for Baloo, and were being escorted through a maze of elevators, hallways, and corridors to the waiting room of the Intensive Care Unit.

"Please wait here, I will inform the doctor of your arrival and he will be out to speak with you shortly." Kit and Ms. Cunningham took their seats and Molly played with a bead table in the corner. The air smelt sterile and washed. Kit could hear the echoing footsteps of the nurse's heals upon the freshly waxed tile growing softer and softer as each tap counted away another second until only the sound of Molly playing and the industrial air-conditioning broke the silence.

Kit looked at the ground that his kicking legs were too short to reach, both of his hands upon the woven cloth arm rests, his mind was blank, and his body was tense; he had completely forgotten about his hunger. On their way to the waiting room Ms. Cunningham had noticed the sign for the ICU and her eyes grew wide with the revelation that the situation was much more serious than she had initially thought. She looked at Kit and saw that he was hanging his head and just staring at the ground and through it into blank space; his legs had stopped kicking. Was he worried or was he clueless? Did he even know how to respond to such a situation or was he still attempting to digest it all? Would he try and run away again? She was attempting to consider every possible avenue that this evening could take and prepare herself for how best to care for her kids. No words were spoken between any of them. Ms. Cunningham sat to his right. In an effort to provide some motherly comfort, Ms. Cunningham placed her hand on Kit's back and started to rub him, her fingers bouncing over his scars as she moved her arm up and down and up and down. Kit involuntarily jumped at first contact but then relaxed a little and allowed this effort of hers to comfort him to go uncontested even if it did little to accomplish its intended purpose. They had been there for about ten minutes when a scruffy looking dog in a white lab coat turned the corner and walked their direction. He was reviewing a paper on a clipboard as he approached their waiting area.

"Excuse me, are you the family of a Mr. Baloo Von Bruinwald?" The doctor did not allow for response, the look upon their faces when they all simultaneously looked at him was answer enough. "I am Doctor Marckon and Mr. Baloo was transferred to me from the Emergency Department once it had become apparent that full admission to the hospital was necessary. I am not one to sugar coat things so I will jump straight to the point." Kit stood up without realizing it. His elbows were bent and at his side, his hands in fists and together in the middle of his chest. He was waiting for something but had no idea what. What he did know was that there was no way that this was happening. Baloo in the hospital? Impossible! It was usually the other way around and Kit had the scars and medical records to prove it. "Mr. Baloo has…" suddenly something came over Kit and he could not wait anymore. "LET ME SEE HIM!" Kit yelled.

The Doctor eyed Kit as he inched closer and closer, his outburst catching Ms. Cunningham, Molly, and himself off-guard. Rather than attempt to reason with an emotionally compromised boy and his family, the doctor yielded to the demand of the child in front of him, "Very well. Follow me please."

Doctor Marckon led the family down a hallway and through a pair of seemingly oversized double doors into the Intensive Care Unit. For Kit and Ms. Cunningham however, it might as well have been the gates of perdition. One light, door, and nursing counter after the other until finally the Doctor came to a stop, placed his hand on the doorknob and paused before allowing the Higher for Hire family entry. "I will be here for the next few moments as I am sure you will have many questions."

Rebecca entered the room first followed by Kit with Molly directly behind. Rebecca stopped after two steps into the room forcing Kit to side step around her. There, directly across from the door, sticking out from the wall in the center of the room was a bed with a big grey bear upon it dressed in a hospital gown and covered up to the waist with blankets, electronic monitoring systems kept track of his heart rate, pulse oximetry, blood pressure, and end tidal volume. Kit approached the middle of the bed slowly and just looked at his father laying there, his chest rising and falling with each breath. Molly took her position on the couch by the window, standing on it and looking at Baloo, Kit, and her mother. "Is he sleeping?" she innocently asked.

Molly and Ms. Cunningham turned to Doctor Marckon for an explanation, Kit did not budge, he just stared at Papa Bear, his face letting no emotion show.

"Mr. Baloo has suffered an Acute Subdural Hematoma. Basically, he has bleeding inside his head but outside of his brain. The Blood had been collecting in his head and was putting pressure on his brain. We are lucky he got to the hospital when he did, any later and we might be having a different conversation. As it stands right now, we were able to drain approximately forty percent of the blood using noninvasive methods, but medical science has only come so far; we know what his problem is, we just do not know how to fully remedy the situation without causing other permanent adverse medical conditions. Currently Mr. Baloo is in a coma as a result of the bleeding and pressure on his brain. As I said we have lessened the pressure on his brain to the point where we expect he is suffering no brain damage, but at this point we have done all that we can do and it is up to his body to reabsorb the blood and remove it from the affected area. It is unknown how long that will take, and we also do not know when or if he will ever regain consciousness. It all depends on if his brain has suffered any damage during the course of his injury or not."

Doctor Marckon remained for a moment but upon hearing no questions he left the room after a parting comment. "I have other patients that require my attention. I will be in the area until visitor hours are concluded, if you need me just ask at the nurse station and I will get here as soon as possible."

Kit was not sure how long he stood there. It was as if everyone and everything else was gone. In that moment Kit and Baloo's unconscious body might as well have been the only things in the world. The only sound Kit could hear was the sound of Baloo breathing. Kit's mind was rolling as he was attempting to process the situation. "This can't be happening. This is impossible. How are you gone but here? You said that you would never leave me! You are right in front of me, but you are gone, but you are right here." And then the tide started to come in and with-it Kit could feel the heat and his anger well up and rise.

Molly did not understand Dr. Marckon's explanation, as far as she was concerned Baloo was simply sleeping and there was no cause for alarm and so she remained sitting silently on the couch looking out the window. There wasn't much else for her to do, there wasn't much else the six-year-old could do. Ms. Cunningham saw Kit standing in the same place by the bed, he had not even budged. She knew the situation would be hard on him but had not predicted such a silent or stoic reaction. Then she noticed that his hands had gone from remaining gently hanging at his side to tightly clenched fists and his posture had become ever so slightly hunched over. He was hurting and she could see it. He was a tough boy, but this, this was something he had never faced. She presumed that he would not know how to react, and this meant he would be unpredictable. He had lived a life alone, a life of pain, a life of abuse, a life of strife, all of these things he had experience with. But to gain someone who saw the world when he looked at him, who would love him, and care for him, and always have time for him, and always be there for him, only to lose that someone just as quickly, this Kit had never had to contend with. Kit was a strong kid with a strong will, but eventually everyone has their breaking point and Rebecca was certain that this was sure to leave a hole in the boy's good heart that he may never be able to fill. If given the choice between what he was feeling now and another round with Don Karnage, she was not entirely sure which one he would choose. Ms. Cunningham kept such thoughts to herself and instead felt that the time for words had come.

"Kit, do you want to…?" Suddenly, Kit turned and ran. He ran away from the bed. He ran past Ms. Cunningham. He ran out of the room and down the hallway. He sprinted as fast as he could, pushing his legs to carry him so that he could outrun the tragedies of his reality. He could do it; he could run faster and faster, the hallways were long enough, and he could jump off walls to make sharp turns. He would not go back to a life without Baloo, he would not go back to the streets or be dumped off in an orphanage, he just needed to run faster. The windows of the hallway started to pass by him so quickly that the wall started to disappear out of the corner of his eye revealing the city skyline beyond, but he needed to run faster! Maybe he could break out through to the other side and pull Papa Bear back to the waking world. He could do it! He just needed to run faster, just a little bit faster, only a tiny fraction of an ounce faster! He constricted his abdomen and pumped his arms with as much effort as his young body could take and then some, he did not need to mind his limits, he needed to run faster! He did not need any air in his lungs, he needed to run faster! He did not need to breathe or catch his breath, he needed to run faster! He did not feel his legs burning, his arms pulsing, or his muscles cramping from the sudden overexertion, he did not notice his hurt heart bursting, he only noticed that he needed to run faster, he could still run even faster! And so, he pushed himself even more. One turn and hallway and turn and hallway after another; one lap, two laps, three laps, four, still, he did not stop. He dodged doctors, patients, nurses, until something caught his left arm at the bicep, and he tripped, but he did not fall. He was pulled around in a circle. "No!" he thought "Not another failure, not this time!" He was almost there, he just had to run a little faster for a little longer, he had almost made it. He was ready to fight, but once he saw what, or who had grabbed him, he held back for just a moment.

Rebecca held onto Kit's arm. Once he caught his balance, he dropped into a fighting stance and pulled his right arm back as if to throw a punch but paused once he looked at who was holding him and held his arm back though his fist was tight and ready; his mind was racing for a course of action, what should he do, what could he do? When they made eye contact, she saw that his eyes were bloodshot red and shined with the reflection of his ignited and unfocused anger. He was grieving and she was right, he did not know how to react, but he had to release the stress of the situation and Kit had done just that in the only possible way he could.

"LET ME GO YOU STUPID BITCH!" Kit yelled as he struggled and jumped around in an attempt to pry Ms. Cunningham's hand off his arm, attracting the attention of all the hospital personnel and any other patients and visitors within viewing range, his hat falling to the ground in the confrontation. Even in his fit of grief, he did not want to hurt her, he just wanted to run faster, but Ms. Cunningham held on tight. Those words stung but she recognized what was happening, what he was going through, and so she forgave him instantly. He could be such a sweet boy, but that appearance belied the hidden horrors of his past lives. Ms. Cunningham swung behind Kit and hugged him from behind, attempting to hold onto him in much the same way Baloo had in the past week, bending down to his height so that her mouth was next to his ear and her arms were now crisscrossed across his torso and chest. "Let it out" she said directly into his ear, "it's ok. Let it all out." He jumped and kicked fruitlessly in an effort to break free of Ms. Cunningham's grasp which was admittedly much weaker compared to Baloo's.

"FUCK HIM AND FUCK YOU! I'M NOT DOING THIS SHIT AGAIN!" The mother and son slowly fell backward to the ground and Ms. Cunningham leaned against the wall. Kit was secured tightly in Ms. Cunningham's grip and seated on her lap both pairs of legs facing forward. She wanted to make everything better, but the truth was that she was hurting right alongside with him. She wanted to tell him that 'it would all be alright' but the truth was that it was probably never going to be alright. She was not about to dare say that she knew how he felt. How could she possibly know how he felt? Rebecca had had a full wholesome childhood with both her loving parents and both her parents were still married and living, even if they were half a world away. Kit on the other hand never knew his parents and – as things currently stood – might as well have just been orphaned for the second time.

"Then don't!" she said to him, "Just let it all out, I'm not going anywhere". She checked to ensure that the door to Baloo's hospital room was still shut; Molly did not need to see what was happening in the hallway, not this time.

Kit's struggle had lessened, and the tide had come in and washed over him. "I'm not!….I'm not going to!…..". Kit's struggle was growing weaker and weaker by the moment until he had stopped all together. He sat there in his mother's embrace for a single silent second before he let out a heartbroken scream and began to weep, pulling his legs in, turning slightly, and burying his face into his mother's left chest and arm. She held him and felt the upper left sleeve of her pink shirt dampen. Her left arm remained across his chest but readjusted to hold him tight in his new position. She began to let herself grieve as well and moved her right arm to atop Kit's head to pull him into her shoulder as if she were lulling a toddler to sleep and laid her face there and wept with him. The smell of Kit's sweaty hair filling her nostrils as she inhaled each tearful breath, Kit's head bouncing with her chest's rise and fall from her own fragmented tearful breathing. Together, they held onto each other, mother and child. Slowly, Ms. Cunningham started to rock Kit back and forth.

-END Part 1-

.

.

.

-Part 2-

Kit ran past Ms. Cunningham and out of the room, turned left, and was gone. Molly sat on the couch and wondered what made him do that. Where was he going? She looked out the window at the city in the distance, "Oh, that's Shere Khan's Tower" and then decided to count the rows of windows on a farther wing of the hospital from the bottom, "One, two, three, four, five…" but was interrupted before she could get to the top when she heard the slap, slap, slap of someone's feet running on the tile floor. She turned around and in a blur of green and brown she saw Kit fly by the door from right to left. "Mom, what is Kit doing?" Ms. Cunningham inhaled and exhaled deeply and looked at her, opened her mouth but no words came out. Molly turned to look at her mother inquisitively with her hands still on the window before asking again, sure that her mother did not hear her the first time. "Mom, did you hear me? Why is Kit running like…" and then once more she saw Kit dash behind her mother in the hallway and past the door, "…that?"

"Molly, you stay in here until I open this door. You hear me?" Ms. Cunningham looked worried, but Molly did not ask why.

"Yes, mama." And with that, Ms. Cunningham walked out the door and quickly shut it behind her. Molly on the other hand turned her attention back to the windows of the hospital and started counting again. "…six, seven, eight, nine, ten. But we are on the eighth floor. Oh, butterflies."

The sound of profanity could not be mistaken outside of the room, but she continued to look at the yellow, black, and red winged insects fluttering about just outside her window. "Did Kit yell that?" She got up and walked toward the door but remembered what her mother told her and turned to return to the couch and the window when she heard a cough. Her attention turned to the "sleeping" Baloo and she walked toward the edge of his bed. His right hand was just lying there, completely still and palm down. She touched it and it budged. She poked it again and it slightly flinched. More profanity and screaming came from the other side of the door. Molly heard it and knew immediately that that had to have been Kit but paid it no mind. She continued to poke Baloo's hand and it kept moving as Molly giggled in response. And then she placed her hand under Baloo's and grabbed his hand and Baloo's hand closed around hers and held tight. Molly smiled, but when she tried to pull her hand out, she could not. The harder she pulled the stronger it held on. "Ow, you're hurting me." She tugged and yanked and jumped and did everything she could to get loose, but it was no use. The little girl was starting to cry, she was trapped. "Help!" she cried out, "Someone Help!", but no one could hear her with all the commotion in the hallway. She jumped up and down again to try and get her hand loose, but it just got tighter. Visions and waking nightmares of herself having her hand amputated and walking into school with only one arm filled her head. She imagined the rest of the kids in her class calling her names like 'Stumpy' or 'Captain Hook'. She tried thinking of a way to carry Lucy and her juice at the same time. She put both feet on the side of the bed and grabbed her right arm with her left hand and tugged. "Ugh…..ugh…..Baloo, Let Go!" and just like that, Baloo's hand opened, releasing Molly's, and causing her to fall to the ground, land on her backside, and slide halfway to the wall. She looked at her hand and saw that it didn't hurt anymore, and then she looked back at Baloo. She stood up and put her hands on her hips, "Baloo! Wake up, I know you are just sleeping!" But Baloo did not wake up.

-END Part 2-

.

.

.

-Part 3-

"Excuse me, mam" Rebecca woke up to the face of a smiling nurse squatting next to her and rubbing her shoulder. "Visitor hours are almost over. You and your son can return tomorrow."

Kit had fallen asleep in Ms. Cunningham's arms and at some point, Rebecca had fallen asleep as well. She and Kit both stretched and started to sit up straight and yawn and then she saw the clock and panicked! "Oh my God, Kit! Molly! It's been two an a half hours!" Ms. Cunningham had brought her hands to the side of her head before jumping up and reaching the door. Kit was thrown off her in the process before he too realized that Molly might be missing. In an instant he picked up his hat, placed it backwards on his head and was right behind Ms. Cunningham when she opened the door to Baloo's hospital room. Upon both entering, Molly was nowhere to be seen. Not on the couch, not at the window, not in the chair. Quickly Rebecca rushed to the bathroom and opened the door, only to find the light off and the room vacant.

"Mom" Kit casually uttered. "I found her."

Ms. Cunningham exited the restroom asking her next question but needing no answer, "Where?!...oh." What she saw was as heartwarming as it was gut-wrenching for both herself and Kit. There, upon Baloo's bed on the window side, lay Molly, fast asleep snuggled halfway under the covers between Baloo's torso and right arm, her head using his bicep for a pillow. Ms. Cunningham's eyes watered. She brought her right hand to cover her mouth and her left hand under her right elbow as if halfway folding her arms. She shifted her weight from one side to the other.

Kit looked at his mom and then back to Molly, he knew how she felt. He knew because he felt 1000 times worse. But neither of them had stopped to consider how Molly was coping or how she responded to the bomb that Dr. Marckon had dropped. Kit had left and Ms. Cunningham had come after him, and both of them had left Molly alone with Baloo and no one to comfort her or explain to her what was happening. Kit immediately felt guilty. It was his fault that Ms. Cunningham had to leave Molly alone and he knew from personal babysitting experience the kind of trouble she was prone to getting herself into. He spoke quickly but with humble remorse. "Mom, I'm so sorry, I didn't think about….please don't be mad, I just…"

Ms. Cunningham interrupted Kit, directly and authoritatively. "Stop it. Just…just stop it." The way she looked at him, her body language, Kit knew he was in trouble. Molly was her child, and he would only ever just be a tag-a-long to her, nothing more. How could he have deceived himself into thinking anything otherwise was possible? Could this day get any worse?

"Yes, Miz Cunningham." He said softly, nearly choking on his words. He had lost his dad and pissed off his mom all in the same day. Or was she his pretend mom? A year ago, she didn't even know he existed. He had briefly had everything he had ever wanted only to lose it all just as quickly through no fault of his own. He felt like a fallen angel that had just been kicked out of paradise. Torn from the heavens and beautiful, falling from the skies toward a dark and dismal unknown future. He walked over to the couch, sat, hung his head, squinted his eyes and wished for the impossible. "Wake up Baloo. Please." Alone he would face the night.

Ms. Cunningham was so relieved to see Molly sleeping, she was safe, and she knew where she was. But Kit on the other hand, she had more than just snapped at him just now and she shouldn't have. Kit's quick flinch and looking away from her replayed in her mind's eye. Today had been a hard day on them all and the last thing she needed to do was add insult to injury. She fought for her subconsciousness to catch up to the reality that he wasn't just her employee now, he was her son and had been ever since his adoption to Baloo had been finalized and that revert he had just made from 'Mom' to 'Ms. Cunningham' was concerning. She observed the scene in front of her. Molly was still asleep, she hoped she stayed asleep for just five more minutes. She walked over to Kit and sat down beside him on the couch. "Kit, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to come across that way. Look, you didn't do anything wrong." He looked at her trying to hold back some tears. "Today has been hard for all of us. It just so happens that losing track of Molly for a little moment put me over the edge and then seeing her sleeping there; it was too much. He is your dad, but he is also my friend." She saw Kit's face, and discerned that this wasn't helping. "I love you Kit, if I didn't then I would not have gone after you when you ran out of here." Kit did believe that this was true, at least in part, but he still felt 'less-than'.

"But I will always be second to Molly. She is your child, I am not. I am just some orphan your pilot picked up that you are stuck with. Can't say I blame you." Kit had a plethora of feelings swirling like a tempest within him, everything from the happenings of today to the haunts of his traumatic childhood coming to surface, and it was an uphill battle for him to keep it together and make sense of it all.

Ms. Cunningham was starting to understand the direction Kit was coming from. A lot had happened in the past couple weeks, and Kit had a valid concern. Ms. Cunningham had to set the record straight. She considered handling the matter delicately but decided a blunt approach was best for the sake of time; besides the boy next to her was no ordinary kid, he had grit; he could take it. "Kit, Molly is six, you are twelve. It is the way of things for me to be more concerned for her than you based on her age alone not to mention your history of growing up on the streets. That does not mean I love or care about you any less. When I look at you, I do not see an employee or some second-rate orphan, I see you as my own flesh and blood son. You and Molly could be in your forties and me in my seventies and I would still worry about you both. But right now, I have to worry about Molly sticking a pencil up her nose, hurting herself somehow, or running out of the house wearing nothing but a cape and a salad colander on her head parading herself as Danger Woman for the world to see, and something tells me that I don't have that problem with you, do I?" Kit cracked a slight smile to break the somber tone for a short second and shook his head 'no'. Ms. Cunningham then put her right arm around Kit and pulled him closer for a hug before wrapping her other arm around him, an effort Kit met in kind by wrapping his arms around her waist. "I love you Kit, and things are going to get harder before they get easier, but whatever happens, whatever changes, you will not be alone. You, Molly, and I will face it together."

Molly suddenly was scared awake by the sound of a loud tone that emerged from the PA system, "Attention: Visitor hours have ended. All visitors please make your way to the exits. The Hospital will be open daily for visitors from 10:00am until 8:00pm. Thank you." She sat up and looked around the dimly lit room. The sun had set about an hour ago and only the outline of Kit and Ms. Cunningham were visible to her unadjusted eyes.

Ms. Cunningham released Kit upon seeing her daughter sit up and Kit did the same. "I guess we had better get going." She stood and walked over to the bed to pick up Molly who was still waking up; it was going to be a long night, especially after this nap of hers.

Kit stood up and started to follow Ms. Cunningham when a thought occurred to him, "Uh, Mom. What about Baloo?" He placed both his hands on the footboard of the hospital bed and gazed upon his father with a heart that was hosting a battle between hope and despair.

She picked up Molly and held her on her hip, "What about him?"

"Are we….when can I come see him again?" Asked Kit with pleading eyes that were dreading the present and were uncertain about the future.

"Kit, we will see. Tonight though, we just need to get home. You two still have school tomorrow and that means it's already almost time for bed, not to mention dinner and baths." Kit considered his apatite but did not feel much like eating and if Molly felt the same as she did earlier, she was still full. Rebecca knew that sleep would not come easy tonight. What with what was on all their minds coupled with them all falling asleep earlier, she expected that Molly at least wouldn't go back down for hours, but then again, baths do a lot for putting kids to sleep. "Kit, given how late it is, you are coming home with me tonight." She got in front of the argument before he could object. "And before you say anything, yes, I know you are old enough to stay at home by yourself, but I do not want to make two trips. Plus, I have some clothes for you to wear; I made Baloo give me some in case you had to stay with me on short notice." "I just hope they still fit" she thought to herself.

In truth, it was not completely out of the way to go to Higher for Hire and then to her apartment, all it required was to take a minor detour; only about five miles would be added onto her journey when it was all said and done. But her concern was not really with saving time or gas money, not tonight even though the kids did have school tomorrow. She was more worried about what an emotionally compromised unsupervised twelve-year-old boy would do home alone all by himself all night long, or if he would even stay home for that matter. She had a feeling that his thoughts would get the better of him and that, combined with being antsy, he would run off again but this time he wouldn't be confined to the single floor of a hospital wing. She had no doubts that this time he would eventually come back of his own accord, but she did not want to chance him getting hurt or into trouble.

Kit, still not knowing how to feel, just nodded. He did not like her answer or that he wasn't going to sleep in his own bed tonight but saw no point in arguing. The Hospital was kicking them out and they all needed showers and rest of their own.

As Ms. Cunningham walked out of the Hospital room with Molly on her hip, she innocently asked, "Mommy, how come Baloo is sleeping so much?" Ms. Cunningham only sadly smiled and said, "Baby. Ask me tomorrow."

Kit was now alone with Baloo. He looked at him lying there in the darkness, his chest rising and falling with his breaths was the only sign that he was even alive to the twelve-year-old's eyes. Kit walked around to the side of the bed, stood on his tip-toes, and placed his arms around Baloo's neck and gave him a hug. A single tear rolled down Kit's face and onto Baloo's cheek. "See ya later Papa Bear". Kit then ran out of the room to catch up with Ms. Cunningham and Molly who were already halfway down the hallway closing the door behind him.

"See ya later Little Britches" his heart echoed.

-END CHAPTER 6-