Baloo staggered behind him, saying wryly, “Thanks a heap, pal.”

“Don’t mention it, my good man.” Louie opened the door a crack and peered out. Seeing no guard, he threw it wide open. “C’mon. We’re home safe now.”

Then a bright light shone in their faces, blinding them.

“Think again,” Baloo muttered.

“Hold it right there!” the guard commanded.

“No,you hold it!” Baloo lobbed the safe at guard, knocking him over with a pained, “Oof!”

Baloo scooped up the safe and ran as best he could. Not only was the safe slipping through his fingers with every jouncing step, he couldn’t see Louie bumbling through the rows of machinery.

A moment later, the dazed guard staggered to his feet. He reeled for a moment and was forced to lean against a pile of sacks containing newly-sheared wool to steady himself. When his head stopped spinning, he grabbed his pistol from its holster and aimed it towards the pattering of two pairs of not-so-little feet. “Stop, or I’ll shoot!” To prove his point, he fired a shot.

“Step on it, cuz!” Louie said as he and a panting Baloo zigzagged around machinery towards the front door.

“Easy for you to say! You ain’t luggin’ a two ton doorstop,” Baloo puffed.

“Good thing, too. I can only handle pain until it hurts.”

“All right, pain, can we stop a sec?” Baloo said, putting the safe on the floor. “I’m hurtin’.”

“But we’re almost outta here,” Louie hissed impatiently. He pointed to their point of entry - the open window - which was only two rows of machines away.

“I gotta get me a better grip on this thing before I drop it on my tootsies.” Inhaling sharply, Baloo picked up the safe...and promptly lost his balance due to its weight. With a “Whoa-ho-ho!” he backpedaled towards the wall, hitting two switches in the process.

Suddenly, the lights came on and the machines sprang to life with clacking, thudding, bumping and whirring.

“Now look what you did,” Louie said accusingly.

“Me?”

“Stop, you!” The guard ran towards them, gun in hand.

The bad news was that the guard was between them and the open window. The good news was that he was a clutz. He tripped over his own shoelace and fell headlong into a loom, becoming woven into the plaid cloth as the shuttle flew back and forth. Flailing his arms and legs wildly, he shouted, “Heeeeelp!”

“Time to weave,” Baloo joked.

But when they reached the front door, they saw a swarm of villagers approaching, torches in hand. They were armed with everything from pitchforks to frying pans to rifles.

“I don’t think that’s the welcoming committee,” Baloo said apprehensively.

Louie slammed the door shut. “Only one way to go - up.” He bounded over to a ladder and quickly scaled it.

“Hey, I’m a bear, not a mountain goat.”

“Do you wanna be a dead duck? ‘Cause those folks are gonna make a big squawk about us stealin’ this stolen safe.”

“Now that ya mention it...no.” Tucking the safe under one arm, Baloo stepped on the first rung of the ladder. It creaked under his weight. Wobbling slightly, he climbed the ladder one rung at a time, wincing with each creak.

“Ian! Ian! Who was doing all that shooting?” one woman asked hysterically as Ian, the guard, was extracted from the loom.

Before the guard could answer, a man shouted, “There they are!”

Instantly, all eyes were on Baloo, who was in the process of handing the safe to Louie.

“Uh-oh!” Louie murmured.

“Get them!” With a burst of incoherent shouting, the angry mob ran towards the back of the factory where the ladder was.

“Here we go again,” Baloo exclaimed, setting the safe on the ledge upon which the conveyer belt system ran. He then scrambled up the last two rungs.

To their dismay, the conveyer belt started up. To make matters worse, bullets flew around them, ricocheting off nearby metal and the safe with reverberating pings.

“Great. Now we’re movin’ targets,” Baloo groaned. He was struggling to simultaneously run, keep his balance, and regain hold of the heavy safe before it moved too far down the conveyer belt line. Luckily, he was able to scoop up the safe before it was sucked into the wash/dry/shearing machine.

Louie, who was behind Baloo, pushed the bear forward as he ran against the conveyer’s current. If only they could reach the door where the sheep entered, they could escape. “Move it or lose it!”

“Iam losin’ it!” Baloo could feel the safe slipping from his sweaty hands with every bouncing step. Then, he completely lost his balance when a Shropshearian, who had climbed the ladder, grabbed at his leg.

Baloo belly-flopped onto the conveyer belt with an “Oof!” In the process, he lost his grip on the safe, which went flying through the air.

“Pop fly to the short stop!” Louie made a frantic dive over Baloo and caught the safe before it could disappear completely over the ledge. He hung onto the ledge with his toes.

“I gotcha!” Baloo said, hauling both Louie and the safe up.

“That was a close shave,” Louie said with a sigh of relief.

“Speakin’ of close shaves...” Baloo said, gesturing towards the complicated-looking machines that the conveyer belt was propelling them towards.

“Aaaaaahhh!”

Their screams could be heard as they sailed through the automatic sheep washer, dryer, and shearer.

They didn’t stop screaming until they found themselves outside in the cool, foggy night, riding down the conveyer belt to the ground below. Despite the fact that tufts of fur were missing and their clothes were chewed up, they were relatively unscathed.

“Hey, we made it, an’ with the safe.” Baloo grinned, patting the prized item. “Natty’ll be so happy.”

“Don’t break an arm pattin’ yourself on the back. We ain’t out of this yet.”

As if to prove his point, one of the villagers shouted, “There’s the mangy thieves! In that pasture!”

“Aw, man! This is too much like work!” Baloo groaned, once more picking up the safe.

With the angry mob chasing them, they sprinted down the dark, muddy street of Clipping to the Sea Duck. Once inside the seaplane’s cockpit, Baloo made one of the hastiest takeoffs possible despite the lack of visibility.

When they were flying at ten thousand feet, above the fog, Baloo said cheerfully, “Goodbye, Shropshear. Thembria, here we come. I anticipate Orange Fizzies, flashbulbs, an’, with any luck, local beauties panting after my highly-trained pilot’s body.”

“In your dreams,” Louie scoffed. “Natalia’ll be warm for my form.”

“What there is of it, shorty.”

“Who’re you callin’ shorty, fatty?”

“I ain’t fat. I’m big-boned.”

“Yeah,” Louie laughed. “A big bonehead.”

“That ain’t what I meant,” Baloo growled, tightening his grip on the control yoke.

“Sure sounded like it from here, cuz,” Louie said airily.

“You need to get the wax outta your ears - if ya got any ears.” Rubbing the back of his neck and staring straight ahead, Baloo said quietly, “Uh, thanks, man, for helpin’ me. I couldn’t have pulled off that stunt without you.”

Louie beamed at the bear. “I’m touched. Matter of fact, I’m bruised.” His rueful laugh faded into solemnity. “But seriously, Baloo, you’re a pal.” He added swiftly, “Not mine, but somebody’s.”

“Wonder what’s in that safe that’s got everybody all fired up?” Baloo mused, running his eyes over the gauges.

He didn’t have to wonder long, because the crate that the safe was sitting on collapsed under its weight, causing the safe to crash to the deck with a bang! By the force of the impact, the door flew open, spilling its contents.

End of part 2

Two More for the Road
part 3

The Sea Duck

Louie hopped out of the co-pilot’s seat and reached down to pick up the piece of paper that had fallen from the safe. “Polyester,” he read. “Top secret.”

“Polly an’ Ester who?” Baloo said, positioning the autopilot - a crowbar - across the control yoke.

“Not who. What.” Louie squinted at the complicated chemical formulas, then turned it upside-down. No matter how long he looked at it, he could make neither heads nor tails of it. “I’m guessin’ this gobblety-gook’s some kind of instructions on how to make polyester - whatever that is.”

Baloo picked up a strip of beige fabric, which had also come from the safe. “Must be this.”

“Ah, I get it. A text on textiles.” Then, Louie chuckled and pointed to a sketch of a leisure suit on the back of the paper. “Check out these craaaazy threads.”

“Where’s the jewels?” Baloo asked, turning the safe upside-down and shaking it.

“There ain’t no jewels. We’ve been fleeced, cousin.”

“Aw, man.” Baloo set the empty safe down with a bang. “What’re we gonna tell Natty? That little girl will be heartbroken, not to mention her aunts.”

Louie shrugged. “Tell her the truth.” Flashing a toothy grin, he added, “She can cry on my shoulder.”

“Not if she’s busy cryin’ on my shoulder.”

Because they were occupied by their argument, they didn’t notice the fleet of planes following them.

Dimitri’s Place
Thembria
Dawn

On the western edge of Thembria, a squat stone building crouched at a crossroads in the vast emptiness of the great frozen wilderness. Atop the building was an ice-encased sign - the faded ‘Dimitri’s’ was barely legible in the gloomy grey dawn. A few bulky Thembrian airplanes sat in the snow around the nightclub like chickens roosting around a watering hole.

Louie, noting the planes as he hopped out of the Sea Duck, remarked, “Must be the breakfast club.”

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