Chapter 3

-Part 1-

Six months and one week before the fight.

Before Kit's adoption, and before the events of "The Extra Son The World Would Never Need".

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"Miz Cunningham, when's Baloo coming back?" Kit still sounded anxious. It had been a week and a half since he, Baloo, and herself had been down to the police station to report Kit's abuse, have him tell his year-long story of pirate hell, and have every inch of his scarred body photographed for evidence; a week and a half since she had learned that there was more to Kit than the simple stereotypical life of an orphan she had initially assumed. At least now she knew why he used to enter and exit the bathroom fully dressed for his bath every night; a practice he had abruptly discontinued now that everyone knew his secret. Kit looked troubled and she had gone from Boss-Lady to unofficial-guardian of this child head-spinningly quick. She tried to keep things professional between them, but was only kidding herself, her heart bled for him and there was not a thing she could do to stop it. She wanted to hold him and tell him that everything would be alright, but the truth was that she did not know if that would be the case. The family courts had a lot to decide, and the world was closing in around them, it only yet remained to be seen whether it would be Kit who took the fall or Don Karnage. Kit had made it clear that he wanted to stay with Baloo more than anything else in the world, but he was still her employee and despite everything, she still had a business to run even in these uniquely personal as well as economically troubled times, and even if he was grounded per Ms. Gold's instructions, he too still had a job to do too and get paid for on top of attending counseling and getting caught up in school. So, she had sent him to run some errands around the city for her and in the few hours he was out earning what he could for his paycheck, a client had come into Higher for Hire requesting immediate overnight shipping for a package to Thembria and was willing to pay high dollar for it too. The poor kid was not prepared to discover Baloo's absence when he returned home. "WHERE'S THE SEADUCK?!" he had screamed as he barged in the door. "WHAT HAPPENED TO BALOO?!" he had demanded in a panic; she could clearly see the fearful apprehension in his eyes. It had taken her a few moments to calm him down and assure him that his worst fears of his past being found out had not been realized, that Baloo did not abandon him and that he would return.

"Sometime tomorrow morning Kit, around first light." Ms. Cunningham answered. To make an effort to console the boy, Ms. Cunningham told him how Baloo had given a small protest to being sent all the way to Thembria on such short notice and not only without his navigator but also without even being able to tell him what was going on, a protest that had been cut short by having the prospect of additional time off dangled in front of him like a carrot; or in Baloo's case, a juicy burger. She also mentioned to Kit that Baloo's mind equated more time off to more time he could spend with his little buddy. In all fairness, Ms. Cunningham genuinely appreciated Baloo's resistance in this specific circumstance in equal amount to how much she appreciated Baloo sacrificing this evening off to make the shipment, it displayed how much he had accepted his fatherly role in Kit's life. She was also especially grateful to Baloo for making this run the client was paying a premium rate for; the equivalent to four long distance shipping runs and nearly a half a week of work, but she conveniently left that part out. Kit was tough, his face was a combination of worry and battle-ready, but even she saw the slight crack of a smile at her use of the term "little buddy", even if only for a short instant. Kit was calm now, but far from comforted; looking into his eyes was like looking into a well of misery.

Kit nodded and sat down in Baloo's big chair and waited. "Kit, I know what you and Baloo had planned for this evening, but sometimes things come up. That's life." Ms. Cunningham considered her position and that of Kit's. Clearly, he did not know what to do with himself and admittedly the entire time since coming home from the police station had been hard on him. She was the Boss; he was the employee but he was also the "new kid in town" and had no one other than Baloo. He hadn't started school yet and wouldn't do so for yet some time, not until the tutor cleared him for it which meant that he had no friends to spend time with, had nowhere to go, and nothing to do all night and weekend until Baloo returned.

"Mama, when are we going home?" Molly was sitting on the edge of her mother's desk and was on the verge of hitting a low battery and Ms. Cunningham couldn't blame her. It had been a long day for them all, but an easy one, nonetheless. Kit had been tending to his schoolwork with the tutor, sitting at his smaller desk which had been pushed up against Ms. Cunningham's. Ms. Cunningham had been up to business administration duties as usual, stopping to help Kit as needed and as was appropriate and permissible by the tutor. Baloo had been gone and separated from his boy all day making deliveries and looking forward to his evening and weekend with Kit which had now obviously been stolen from him thanks to this premium rate paying client. And Molly had of course been at school most of the day. What with Kit and Molly more or less on the same schedule, it had ceased to be the occasional errand and had become routine for Kit to wrap up his studies and then be sent to pick up Molly from school, a task he had become rather fond of. It was his time to be by himself outside, no one would bother him, and he could feel the sun on his face and the wind in his hair, in other words, it was the closest thing to cloud surfing he was going to get for quite a while and on his way back, Molly would tell him about her day and Kit would listen, envisioning what going to school like a normal kid was like.

Rebecca looked around and considered her options. Dinner time had come and gone and the sky was orange with the fading rays of a day ending and a vibrant sunset just beginning. Bellies were grumbling and by the time Rebecca and Molly made it home it would be too late for anything more than a snack, a quick bath to cleanse the pits, tits, and naughty bits, and bed, much less the ability to spend any quality time with her daughter. It was late and Kit had not yet spent the night alone since he had moved in and she did not know what this kid would do by himself with nothing to occupy his mind. Sure, he would bathe, brush his teeth, and go to bed without being told, but there was the matter to consider of what he would do before then. Plus, there was also the questionable fact of whether Kit had done these things because another adult had been around and he knew it was expected of him, or if he had done them because it was his responsibility. Or would he wander off onto the streets to do God knows what. "What did he do on the streets when he was on his own?" Ms. Cunningham wondered to herself.

"We're not" she responded to Molly. "We're sleeping here tonight."

"You…..you are?" came a confused and astonished voice from across the room. "Where are you going to sleep?" Kit considered that there were only two beds in the building and then realized that the implications for him in light of this new development most likely meant that his bed was no longer his. "Where am I going to sleep?!" The growing concern in his tone was unmistakable.

"You, young man, will sleep in your bed just like you always do. Molly and I will take Baloo's; it should be plenty big enough for the two of us." Kit nodded and then chuckled at the thought of comparing Molly and Ms. Cunningham's combined wide size to Baloo's by himself.

Ms. Cunningham checked her wallet. Money was tight but there were times when splurging was necessary and tonight it seemed not only convenient but also the perfect excuse for some bonding. Besides, it was the first time the kids were sleeping over under the same roof, why not make it a special and memorable occasion? "Kit, Molly, how does pizza sound tonight?"

Molly and Kit open-mouthed-gawked at each other in shock. "What did we do to deserve this?" Molly seemed to convey to Kit. "I don't know, but I'm not gonna ask if you don't!" Kit responded. "DEAL!" they telepathically agreed with each other in unison before jumping to their feet and dancing with joyful excitement.

-END Part 1-

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-Part 2-

Molly and Ms. Cunningham had entered the bedroom full from dinner and clean from their baths dressed in their night gowns to see Kit laying on his bed in his pajamas which consisted of not much more than a simple white sleeveless shirt and a pair of matching white underwear briefs flipping through the aviation magazine he kept on his nightstand. Ms. Cunningham had learned early on in her parenting ventures to always be prepared and pack for the unexpected and it just so happened that many of those eventualities included spontaneous overnight stays at various locations.

Molly had run and jumped onto Kit and straddled his chest, sending his magazine flying across the room, clasping her hands around his cheeks while he tickled her chest in return; laughter joyously ensued to the point the rafters rang. The two played for only a few moments when Ms. Cunningham interrupted the tickle-torture-battle with her own redirection for the evening. "Storytime!" she enthusiastically announced, collapsing onto Baloo's aged and well broken-in mattress; it was old and used without question but somehow still managed to possess a hypnotizing comfort that she could not quite put her finger on.

Kit seemed confused, "Storytime? What's Storytime?" Kit queried while contracting his abs as Molly's elbow accidentally rubbed a tender spot as she slid off of him to make her way across the distance between the two beds to where Ms. Cunningham lay; climbing up, over, and situating herself between her mother and the wall, cuddling up next to her.

"Your parents never read to you before bed?" uttered Molly casually, blissfully unaware of how wounding her words could have been.

"I never knew my parents. I'm an orphan Molly, remember?" Kit should have been hurt by what she said, but he felt nothing. He felt nothing because he did not know what was missing. The orphanage staff never read to the children at night because there were so many of them and there was always so much to do all the time that such pleasant luxuries afforded to children with homes and parents like stories at bedtime were nonexistent. The impact of Molly's words was not lost on Ms. Cunningham, however. She sat silent for a moment as she became clued into and digested another harsh reality of Kit's dismal childhood. She turned and saw him on his bed all alone and made a decision.

"Kit" she lovingly asked with a smile, "would you like to join us? There just so happens to be plenty of room next to me." Kit saw Ms. Cunningham pat the area on the mattress next to her with her left hand, an as of yet unnamed book held in her right.

Kit nodded and slowly slid out of his bed to join the Cunninghams in theirs. As he snuggled in close Ms. Cunningham suddenly became painfully aware of how small the boy was. For a twelve-year-old he was short and thin and here, in his scant nightclothes which covered but his torso and private area, she could see what his normal day clothes usually kept concealed. His body held practically zero fat but as she hugged her left arm around him and pulled him in close to prepare to read to him and Molly, she could feel the strength of the muscles he had built from a lifetime of physical activity, struggle, and labor, he was indeed malnourished while at the same time somehow, he had managed and obtained just enough; clearly, he was a fighter and a survivor to the core. "Comfy?" she asked in a cheerful tone while looking down to him.

"Yes mam" was all he said. He was not sure how to do this. He could not possibly be any closer to her and that made him nervous. Her breasts were inches from his head. Was it acceptable to lay his head on her shoulder? He would risk touching one, he didn't want to be rude. His neck was getting tired and sore from supporting his head up and away from her in such an awkward position and then he felt a hand on his forehead push his head down onto her. "Kit, relax. It's ok." She knew what he was doing. One thing she had already learned about him was that this kid never was in want of manners. "Look at Molly, see how she is sitting?" Molly, her hand touching her mouth, smiled tiredly, patiently awaiting her mother to begin reading, her head resting in between Ms. Cunningham's right shoulder and breast.

"Yes mam." He repeated as his nerves bit by bit began to melt away along with the pain in his neck as he relaxed and felt her soft warmth on the back of his head and neck.

"Good. Now, it's time for a story. Peter Pan, by J. M. Barrie." she said as she opened the book. "Chapter one, Peter Breaks Through. All children, except one, grow up. They soon know that they will grow up, and the way Wendy knew was this."

Molly and Kit became consumed by their own imaginations as they pictured Peter, Wendy, John, and Michael flying through the air, dancing with Tiger Lily and Chief Great Big Little Panther and wondering "What makes the Red Man red". Molly was asleep within minutes, but Kit was kept wide awake with the splendor of it all. He had never known such adventures of the imagination. The Lost Boys reminded him of himself. Just like them, he never knew his parents, but they had each other, just like he had had his best friends Rhett Swift and Trevor Spooner back at the orphanage. And then, when Peter and the Lost Boys fought Captain Hook and his pirate crew, he could not help but shake with fear both for their struggle and wanting to scream his heart out and rage against Hook's inevitable victory which Kit knew for a solid fact was coming because he knew firsthand what that impossible uphill battle was like. As Hook and Peter's blades swashbuckled aboard the ship, across the deck, and in between the sails, he felt the distant echoes of the beatings, batterings, slicings, and stabbings he had endured from another Pirate Captain; one far more real and cruel.

Ms. Cunningham felt Kit's reaction to the story as she read it and regret ran through her. Regret for selecting a book with such relatable occurrences to Kit's not too distant past. "Kit" she had gently urged and suggested a few times that night, "I think we should stop here for tonight." Fighting to protect and spare him from reliving his memories, unaware that such fictional stories were actually very therapeutic for wounded children. Oblivious to the knowledge that this story was having just such an effect on Kit; passively helping him to work through the traumatic and stressful events of his past by allowing him to project and see them through the eyes of another.

"NO!" Kit would desperately beg. "I NEED to know what happens! I don't want him to….he loses, doesn't he? That's why you don't want to keep going!" He predicted with a whisper so as to not awaken Molly who had long since dozed off and turned over. "Why would you read this to me if he loses?!" Kit accused, feeling the loss and fall of yet another would-be-champion in a world without heroes.

Ms. Cunningham decided to tell a white-lie to the boy for the sake of calming him down and providing reassurance. "I have never read this book, Kit. I don't know what happens."

"Then, can we keep reading?...please?" Ms. Cunningham looked at the time, it was one thirty in the morning; well past the intended half hour duration she had planned for. She was exhausted and assumed that Baloo had to be on his return trip from Thembria by now.

"Kit, I…" She yawned, the fatigue was striking her like the sandman in a boxing match. She closed the book with her thumb inside and was about to say no and tell Kit that he had to wait until next time, whenever that would be, until the two made eye contact. He was pleading and clearly not tired at all, or perhaps he was but was hiding it with supreme skill. There was something more to this than just another regular Storytime, but she could not piece it together. "Okay Kit, you win. We'll find out what happens."

Kit was eager to begin when a critical question occurred to him, "Miz Cunningham?" he inquired, turning to look up at her, his head still resting upon her, "Do you think Peter Pan's parents missed him?"

"Yes Kit, I do." Ms. Cunningham stated solemnly.

Kit looked away from her staring off into space, "I wonder if mine ever missed me?" he uttered, the emptiness of his heart apparent as he spoke.

Ms. Cunningham did not know how to respond with words. What could she say to such a question? Sometimes, she thought, actions could speak clearly where words would seem to fall short. She hugged him tight and kissed his head. Was it an overstep? Perhaps, but she did not care, and as the seconds passed by in slow motion it became apparent that Kit didn't either. She was his boss, but right here, right now, for tonight at least, she had temporarily become something more.

Kit didn't know how to react to her kiss, any strange emotions passing through him appeared in the form of goosebumps that ran down his bare legs as he cuddled closer to his future adoptive mother. Ms. Cunningham readjusted herself in response, resting her left arm across his chest. She paused a moment when she felt how fast the boy's heart was pounding and considered how much this moment had to mean to him; little did she know at the time how much it would come to mean to her too. She took a deep breath and continued reading, Kit listening and following along attentively, surrendering to sleep only after the journey had ended and the last page had been turned.

-END CHAPTER 3-