on the other oh, so inviting arm of that chair.

Baloo yawned a yawn that should have dislocated his jaw. He waited for the inevitable tirade from Rebecca about wasting time on wild goose chases, about wasting precious fuel, and, therefore, money, but it didn’t come. She continued to half-heartedly jot down figures in a ledger. He watched his boss for a while, admiring the subtle interplay of shadow and light that the lamp threw over her attractive, delicate features, before remarking with seeming unconcern, “So, Becky...”

Without looking up, she said, “Yes, Baloo?”

“Ya waited up for us?”

That question caught the businesswoman off guard. It was the truth, and they all knew it even though she never would have admitted it, not in a million years. Her cheeks turned ten shades of pink as she stammered out, “Not exactly...I...I just had some...work...to catch up on, and...” her glance strayed across the room to her pilot; a trace of the love that she tried so hard to suppress was visible in her eyes; “you know, Baloo.”

“Yeah, Rebecca...I know,” Baloo murmured softly, grinning foolishly in response to Rebecca’s shy, blushing smile. They were unable to tear their eyes away from each other.

Kit witnessed the silent exchange between the two adults with bated breath. He could almost feel the electricity crackling in the air. The family that this orphan had dreamed of all his life seemed like it could become a reality very, very soon. Something inside of him shouted exultantly, but then the magical moment was broken by...

“It’s getting late,” Rebecca said matter-of-factly, packing papers into her briefcase. “I need to get Molly to bed, and you boys should get some sleep, too. Remember, you have that early morning delivery of turnip peelers to Thembria.”

Kit grimaced, but nodded his acquiesce. A cargo run to Thembria was no picnic with the mountain of forms/paperwork that one had to fill out upon arrival. And then there were the forms that had to be filled out if a screwy Thembrian law was accidently broken. The fluid laws varied by the minute according to the High Marshall’s whims.

Through a yawn, Baloo said what Kit was thinking. “Don’t know why Thembrians need turnip peelers at seven-thirty in the A.M.”

“Because that’s when the Ministry of Kitchen Utensils scheduled you in,” Rebecca answered. When Baloo carefully handed Molly to her, his hand brushed up against Rebecca’s. The bearess planted a kiss on her daughter’s forehead to hide the blush she felt on her cheeks. Rebecca headed for the door with slumbering Molly cradled against one shoulder and her briefcase in the other hand.. “See you boys bright and early.”

Kit rushed to the door to open it. He was rewarded with a “Thank you, sweetie,” and a quick peck on the cheek, his first kiss from Rebecca. It gave him a thrill, something akin to when he cloud-surfed.

In the doorway Rebecca paused for a second. She turned to Baloo to remind him of something pertaining to the next day’s shipment, but when her eyes met his, she once again reddened prettily with confused embarrassment. She couldn’t remember what she was going to tell him. The bearess, who was usually glib of tongue, mumbled an almost incoherent, “Um...goodnight, Baloo, Kit,” as she swiftly left.

“Night, Beckers.”

“Bye, Miz Cunningham.”

Kit shut the door and crossed to the room to once again perch on the arm of the chair next to Baloo. With a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, he hinted casually, “Molly’s lucky.”

“How’s that, Kid?” asked an unsuspecting Baloo, stretching out in the chair.

Kit tapped at the little bump in the bottom of Baloo’s shirt pocket. “I think Rebecca would be a great mom.” He knew exactly what Baloo had been carrying around for the past month. In fact, he had caught the big bear staring at it one day last week.

“You do, huh?” Baloo pulled Kit onto his lap and tickled him mercilessly until the boy begged, tears streaming down his cheeks, for him to stop.

“Scoot to bed, L’il Britches.” Baloo playfully cuffed Kit on the chin. “I’ll be up in a bit. Gonna get some air.”

Kit hugged Baloo before sliding off his lap. “Night, Papa Bear.” An excruciatingly glad boy ran up the stairs two at a time. Barring their failed search for Buzz, it had been a wonderful day. Rebecca’s kiss had been the icing on the cake.

Baloo wandered out into the starry night and plopped into his hammock slung under the Sea Duck’s wing. Now that the sun had gone down it was chilly, but Baloo didn’t notice the cool temperatures. He was concerned about another matter, and it wasn’t Buzz’s whereabouts. From his shirt pocket, Baloo extracted a small box. He opened it. A dazzling sparkle shimmered against the black velvet as if a fragment of Cleanser’s Comet had fallen from the sky and landed there. The diamond wasn’t as big as he would have liked, but it was the best that he, a poor cargo pilot with a penchant for spending money as fast as he earned it, could afford.

Baloo wasn’t sure when Rebecca became more than just his boss; it had happened so gradually over the course of the year. Now, he couldn’t imagine life without her and Molly, and he didn’t want to ever have to imagine life without them. He had realized that in a breathtaking moment last month.

On an ordinary day, during perfectly ordinary circumstances - when she was giving him instructions about a delivery no less - he had simply looked into Rebecca’s brown eyes and knew that he loved her. It had completely thrown him for a loop. He was so discombobulated by his discovery that he got all of the deliveries mixed up for the rest of the week, but he hadn’t minded the justifiable scoldings afterward. Baloo closed the lid with a sigh before carefully returning it to his pocket. “Whattaya offer a gal who owns everythin’ ya have?” he inquired of the night. “Includin’ yer heart.” He folded his arms behind his head and listlessly gazed at the moon rising over the city.

Higher for Hire
Midnight

One hour later, Higher for Hire was wrapped up in sleep. All was still except for the waves lapping against the docks, the steady, sleepy clanging of the harbor buoy, the windsock flapping in the cool night breeze, and three suspicious characters skulking around the corner of the building.

“Dere’s da plane,” Trader Moe whispered, gesturing to the Sea Duck’s large, shadowy form bobbing in the water.

They slunk over to the seaplane. Upon opening the cockpit door, they were greeted by a loud noise, almost as if someone was using a chainsaw nearby.

“Hey, boss! Look what we found!” Rhino and Ape Goon proclaimed in chorus. Both pointed down at Baloo, who was slumbering soundly in his hammock slung under the plane’s wing.

Trader Moe slapped a small paw over each of the goon’s mouths. “Shhhh! Don’t wake him up, ya loudmouths! We gotta do dis quiet-like. But if he does wake up, sedate him.”

“What’s dat mean? Sedate?” Rhino Goon asked, scratching his head in confusion.

“Yeah, what mean, sedate?” repeated Ape Goon.

“Bonk him on da head, ya peach pits!” Trader Moe stepped into the cockpit, grumbling to himself irately, “I gotta get me some new goons!”

The alligator knelt on the floor to feel around under the control panel. He stuck the magnetized little black box far enough back where he thought no one would notice it. When he went to get up, he hit his head on the pilot’s seat. His hand flew to his mouth to stifle his agonized cries of pain. He tiptoed out of the cockpit. “Dat’s done. Let’s trade our clams for moolah.”

Rhino Goon said, “Where we’s going, boss?”

Ape Goon echoed, “Yeah, like go where?”

“Moolah-Boolah! Where else can ya trade clams for loads-a cash?” Trader Moe, in his exasperated fury, slammed the cockpit’s door. “Oops!”

They all stood frozen in their tracks - mid-step - staring at Baloo with terror in their eyes.

Baloo mumbled, “Extra mustard. Hold the onions,” and turned over, resuming his snoring.

Trader Moe exhaled a sigh of relief. “Dat was close!”

“Yeah, too close,” said Rhino Goon.

“Different from far away,” added Ape Goon.

“Shaddup, ya big lug nuts! Sheesh,” Trader Moe exclaimed in exasperation as he snuck down the dock with the two goons tromping after him, “I wonder if ten thousand smackers’ll buy a coupla new goons.”

End of part 1

Karnage’s Revenge
Part 2

Thembria
Saturday Morning

The Sea Duck landed on a runway of hard-packed snow in the pale grey dawn. Its yellow and orange paint contrasted with the bleak white and grey that was Thembria, a country that was cold and overcast three hundred sixty-five days a year. And what the weather lacked, the oppressive communist government made up for. Thembria, with its heavy-handed military, its poverty, its constant shortages, its crazy laws, it was just a great place to live. Can you imagine the travel brochures for this country? Welcome to Thembria - the land of abundant snow; but if you play in it, you will be shot!

Before Baloo or Kit could step one toe out of the plane, they were surrounded by an entire division of the Glorious People’s Army, all of whom aimed their guns at the two bears.

“What’s goin’ on?” Baloo cried. “Don’t tell me I parked in the High Marshall’s very private parkin’ space again.”

Kit checked the passport again to make sure that the right date was stamped on it. It was. He was as confused as Baloo as to why they were in trouble.

Through the ranks of soldiers pushed an extremely short blue-grey warthog. Trailing after him meekly was a tall, portly warthog. It was Colonel Ivanov ‘I-Want-To-Be-A-General-When-I-Grow-Up’ Spigot and his faithful, mild-mannered toady, Sergeant Dunder.

“Here comes General Nuisance,” Baloo remarked to Kit. Actually, Baloo felt more relaxed at the appearance of his friend Dunder, and he knew that he