The Return of the Stone
Part 1

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Cape Suzette Harbor
January 1938
Wednesday Morning

In the pale, misty dawn, a sleepy seagull sitting on a buoy saw an unusual sight. The dark water a few yards from his perch bubbled up, then a man in a wet suit and scuba gear bobbed his head out of the waves. Pushing back his hood, spitting out his regulator, and lifting his goggles, the tan bear, a professional scrounger, took a few deep breaths. Shaking his damp, closely-cropped head to get the water out of his fur, he raised his dripping hand to examine his new-found treasure in the light of day.

After searching the sea floor nightly for more than a year, he finally had his prize. He scraped a glob of mud from the object clenched tightly in his fist just as a shaft of sunlight blazed between the hills, revealing a patch of gleaming crimson beneath the grime. With a triumphant whoop, the diver swam for shore.

Louie’s
Thursday Afternoon

The late afternoon sun shone brightly when the Sea Ducksplashed down in the sparkling azure waters surrounding the tropical island that was home to Louie’s Place and taxied up to one of the few free spaces along the dock. As soon as the propellers stopped, a group of monkeys swarmed the plane - filling the fuel tank, checking the oil, washing the windows, etc. The pilot, a large grey bear, and his navigator, a small brown bear cub, disembarked. Their teeth chattered despite the torrid temperatures.

“How’d I ever let Becky talk me into turnin’ the Duckinto a freezer, Li’l Britches?” Baloo growled. He threw his heavy parka into the yellow and orange Conwing L-16's cockpit, slammed the door, and stormed down the dock towards the nightclub.

Trotting to keep up with the pilot’s angry strides, Kit felt his bones thaw in the warm sunshine. “Beats flying through a volcano to cook two hundred pizzas.”

“Dunno ‘bout that, kid. Burned an’ frost-bit tootsies both hurt somethin’ fierce.”

“C’mon, Papa Bear, be reasonable. You know we had to pack Bo’s Better Bitter Butter in ice, otherwise it’ll melt. If that happened, the customers would be furious, not to mention Miz Cunningham.”

“She won’t be ‘Miz Cunningham’ much longer.” Baloo fondly ruffled the boy’s hair through his blue and red baseball cap.

The thirteen-year-old beamed at the happy thought. “Are you gonna tell Louie about that?”

“You betcha. After all, he’s my oldest pal,” the big bear replied, pushing open the door and stepping into the noisy interior of Louie’s.

Even though it was the middle of the afternoon, the nightclub was hopping, crammed full with both freelance and Khan’s pilots. The band belted out one jazzy tune after another. Customers devoured frothy fruit drinks, elaborate ice cream concoctions, and greasy fried foods as fast as they were dished out.

Louie, a large, brownish-red orangutan, bounded from his office. Over the din, he shouted, “Hey, it’s little boy Baloo! What’s the haps, man?”

The two friends performed their special handshake - giving each other high fives with one hand and pointing at each other with the opposite hand.

“Hey, Kit,” Louie greeted, leaping over the tiki bar. “The usual?”

Kit nodded as he scrambled onto a barstool.

Louie dished up two Krakatoa Specials using his hands and feet, scat singing in harmony with the band’s song. “A-ba-be-bo-do-dow-wow-bo-bow-wow-mwa-du-mwa-da-dang-da-bang...”

“Thanks, Louie,” Kit said politely before dipping his spoon into the mound of vanilla, chocolate and strawberry ice cream, whipped cream, and hot fudge topped with five flaming sparklers served in a half coconut shell. His stomach rumbled; the sandwich that he had eaten for lunch seemed ages ago.

Between big mouthfuls, Baloo said, “Uh, Louie, I got somethin’ ta tell ya.”

Perceiving the big bear’s unusually serious demeanor, the ape bantered half-teasingly, “Who waltzed over your grave? Not bad news, cuz?” He placed two Banana Burritos on a serving tray and handed it over the bar to one of his waiters.

Baloo pushed his empty coconut shell away and leaned forward, his arms folded across the bar. “Naw...um...don’t be disappointed, Louie, ol’ pal...I know how much ya like Rebecca an’ all, but...”

“Ya chased the pretty lady off, didn’t ya? With your ugly mug, you never had the good luck that yours truly has with the dames,” Louie said with a mischievous twinkle in his black eyes. He licked his paw, removed his straw hat, and slicked back his thinning hair.

Baloo scowled at Louie’s smirk. “Don’t see women beatin’ down your door. In fact,” he took a deep breath and blurted out, “Becky an’ me are gettin’ married.”

Louie burst out laughing. Tears of mirth flowed down his cheeks as he beat his palm against the top of the bar. “HA-HA! That’s the jivingest joke I’ve ever heard! Oh, baby!” His boisterous guffaws subsided when he saw Baloo’s and Kit’s wan smiles. “Ha-ha...ha...heh? Well, blow my nose.” And he did just that on a white towel with a loud honk. “You’re not jokin’, are ya?”

A blush crept to Baloo’s cheeks. He shook his head.

Kit piped up with, “They’ve been engaged for almost a week.”

Louie was shocked beyond belief. “No!”

Grinning, Kit nodded vehemently. “Yes!”

“She force ya to marry her, cuz? She said ya had ta marry her, or she’d pilfer the plane? Was that it?”

“Nope. I asked her,” said Baloo. With his index finger, he drew an ‘X’ across his chest. “Cross my heart an’ hope ta fly.”

Once Louie picked his jaw up off the floor, he said, “Why on earth did ya go an’ do a fool thing like that?”

Baloo hugged his red pilot’s cap with a dreamy smile on his face. “Why’d ya think? I love her.”

“You...love...her!” Louie nearly screeched. “Are we talkin’ about the same Rebecca?”

“Yeah.”

“Rebecca Cunningham? Your boss?”

“How many Rebeccas do ya think I know?” Baloo snapped.

“Well, there was that Rebecca in Spango-Pango. Remember that wild weekend?”

“Oh, yeah...” Baloo grinned, sharing a knowing look with Louie. He wiggled his eyebrows up and down. “Man, oh, man, she was a looker!”

“An’ I didn’t mind lookin’!” Louie added with a wolf whistle.

Baloo’s expression became serious. Running his finger around the rim of his empty bowl, he said, “But that dame’s not even in the same class as my Becky.”

“I thought that that Rebecca was pretty classy from the top of her blonde head down to the tips of her high heels.”

Adamantly, Baloo said, “Nah, Becky wouldn’t trick us inta huntin’ for some stupid treasure.”

Kit said, “Yeah, Miz Cunningham tells you if you’re going hunting for something, like truffles.”

“Truffles!” Baloo snickered and clapped a paw on the boy’s shoulder.

Louie interjected, “‘Course, how were we s’posed ta know that that dame was in cahoots with the loot snatchers? They stole that treasure right out from under our fuzzy noses.”

“They were tryin’ ta break our noses, Louie.”

“An’ our necks. Did we get anythin’ outta that crazy weekend?”

“Our lives. An’, boy, was I glad ta have that!”

Louie scratched his head. “How did we get mixed up in that?”

“Same way as always. Got fooled by a pretty face an’ a great set of legs.”

Simultaneously, Baloo and Louie vowed, “Never again!”

“But I sure wouldn’t mind seein’ her again. That dame had more curves than...” Louie quickly broke off when he noticed Kit’s eyes fixed on him. He self-consciously cleared his throat. “More ice cream, Short Stop?”

With his spoonful of dripping ice cream suspended in midair, Kit shook his head, eager for more reminiscing. His Papa Bear didn’t often share particulars about his past, especially sordid details about the mysterious creatures called women.

“Those were the days, huh, Louie?” Baloo said with a grin.

“Fun times, man.” Louie held out his palm and Baloo slapped it.

“But we sure took a beatin’ that time. That wasn’t fun.” The big bear rubbed his temple. “I thought I’d never get over that knock over the head.”

“Speakin’ of knocks over the head...are ya sure yer feelin’ well, cousin?” He slapped a hand to Baloo’s forehead. “Usually ya can’t stop complainin’ ‘bout Rebecca’s slave-drivin’ an’ crazy schemes to dig up more dough.”

The pilot puffed out his chest. “I feel like a million shaboozies, innkeeper. I’m in the prime of life.”

Smirking, Louie countered with, “Yeah, looks like a whole lotta prime beef ta me.”

“Watch it,” Baloo growled playfully.

“But all jokin’ aside, you’re really gettin’ married? No lie, guy?”

“Nope. No lie,” the big bear said simply.

Greatly disappointed, Louie mumbled under his breath, “Keepin’ the biggest thing in yer life from yer best bud for a whole week!” He absently whipped a white towel around like a propeller while pacing behind the bar.

In the nick of time, Kit saved his sundae from being knocked to the floor by the towel.

“Baloo an’ Rebecca?” the ape muttered to himself, completely incredulous. “Kinda like the Filthy Beast marryin’ Miss Goody Two-Shoes. Who woulda thunk it, man? Wowsie, wowsers...craaaazzzzy...”

Annoyed, Baloo growled, “Hey, I ain’t filthy! I showered this mornin’.”

After the fact that his best friend was getting married finally sunk in, Louie enthusiastically slapped Baloo on the back, causing the big bear to wheeze in pain. “Congratulations, fuzzy! Never thought I’d see the day when party-‘til-dawn Baloo would join the ol’ pipe-and-slipper club. When’s the big day gonna be?”

“June sometime.” Baloo shrugged. “We don’t have all the details sorted out yet.”

“You mean Miz Cunningham doesn’t have all of the details sorted out yet,” Kit added with a sly grin.

Crushing his hat in his hands, Baloo said solemnly, “I’d...uh, appreciate it if you could be there ta see me hitched, Louie.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the

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