At the far end of the cave was a large, closed door.

Karnage and Gibber strolled down the center aisle between all of the activity. Highly pleased with the proceedings and himself, the pirate captain beamed. “Silence, men!” he roared over the din. “I have something to say to you in my voice!”

When the pirates failed to listen to him, he pulled a pistol from his coat and shot at the ceiling, causing chunks of earth to rain down over them. The noise immediately ceased and all eyes turned towards Karnage.

Karnage was right where he wanted to be - the center of attention. “That’s better. I am so proud of me! Thanks to my brillancy, I am a hero. They do not know Don Karnage very well, do they?”

A hearty laugh arose from the pirates. The echo of their laughter rang for a few moments after they had stopped laughing.

“No longer will I have to sneakity-sneak into Cape Suzette behind the cliff gunners. I am welcomed with the cliffs wide open. See this, my men?” Karnage waved an envelope in the air. “This is my invitation to accept the award for Hero of the Year.” He laughed, almost maniacally. “And our invitation to go on the plundering spree of a lifetime!”

The pirates cheered.

Irately, Karnage snapped, “Now, what are you standing around there for like the dead herrings? Get back to work!”

Higher for Hire

Moving was still in progress. Everything had been transferred from the Cunninghams’ apartment, minus the grand piano. Rebecca had decided that it was just too much of a hassle to move it, to Baloo’s great relief. Even so, each box and each piece of furniture had to find a new home at Higher for Hire. That meant a lot of rearranging.

Rebecca told Kit, who was balancing a large, heavy box in his hands, “Take that one up to Molly’s room” She peeked in the one that Wildcat had. “And that one has cups and plates. Take it to the kitchen.” She looked at the two that Baloo had picked up. “The top one goes in the bathroom and the other one is Molly’s.”

From the kitchen came a loud CRASH. Wildcat’s contrite voice said, “Sorry!”

Rebecca sighed and shook her head. “I should have known better than to give Wildcat anything breakable.” She headed for the kitchen to see if anything was salvageable.

Standing in a maze of boxes, Baloo gazed around at the mess that crowded the office. The mess didn’t bother him. In fact, he’d lived in a bigger mess than this before. However, something indescribable was making him feel uneasy for some unknown reason. All he knew was that he had to get out of there for a while. Absently setting down the boxes on Rebecca’s desk, he mumbled, “I’m headin’ ta Louie’s for a while.”

“Sounds fun,” Kit said as he clattered down the stairs. He was more than ready for a break from moving the Cunninghams’ belongings, and he was always ready to eat one of Louie’s famous Krakatoa Special sundaes. “Let’s pull chocks, Papa Bear.”

“No, Li’l Britches,” Baloo said sadly, hand on the doorknob. “I need ta be alone fer a while.”

“But you won’t be alone at Louie’s, not on a Friday night,” the boy reminded softly as his Papa Bear left.

Hearing the Sea Duck’s engines start, Rebecca sprinted from the kitchen, ran through the office, out the door, and down the dock, shouting, “Baloo! Where are you going? We aren’t done yet! Ba-LOOOO!”

TheSea Duck flew taxied across the harbor, took off, and flew through the cliffs. With a pensive frown on her face, Rebecca stood watching it, hands on hips. “Oh, that bear!”

Louie’s

As Kit had mentioned, Friday night at the popular hangout for pilots was anything but quiet. Almost every pilot within a hundred-mile radius of Louie’s had been more than willing to spend some of his or her hard-earned paycheck at the island nightclub. And that was a lot of pilots.

The party was in full swing when Baloo stepped through the door. Zombie-like, he made a beeline for the tiki bar, absentmindedly skirting the makeshift tables and partygoers. For the first time in his life, he was oblivious to the laughter, the happy shouts, the throngs of dancers, even the jazzy tune that the simian orchestra was playing.

“Hey, Baloo,” Louie greeted as the big bear plumped down on a barstool - the only free seat in the place. The large reddish-brown orangutan wearing a green-spotted blue Hawaeen shirt, was putting a sundae together with both hands while simultaneously juicing an orange in a juicer operated by his left foot. “Did ya hear ‘bout Karnage winnin’ the Hero of the Year award? In my humble opinion, I think they’re askin’ for trouble with a capital ‘K’ for invitin’ Karnage to Cape Suzette. He’s the biggest zero of a hero I’ve ever seen.” Noticing Baloo’s glum demeanor, he asked, “Why the loooong face?”

Chin propped in his right hand, Baloo mumbled, “Gimmee a Kamikaze Killer with extra lime.”

“You sure, cuz?” Louie placed the sundae and the drink on a serving tray. It was whisked away by a monkey waiter. “The last time you had one of those, you were sicker’n a dog for a week. Who do you wanna hug on your honeymoon - your wife or the toilet?”

“Just gimmee one,” Baloo growled darkly.

Louie was taken aback by the normally jovial bear’s black mood. “Don’t blow yer top, pal. Just a friendly reminder from one friend to another.” The ape slowly mixed a little of every kind of fruit juice that he had in a glass. He stole furtive glances at his friend. By the way Baloo’s brow was knitted and he was fidgeting, it was obvious that he was worried about something. Louie, his nose wrinkled up in distaste, slid a glassful of the vile, brownish-green concoction in front of the big bear.

Baloo choked down a sip and screwed up his face before giving a short cough. “Needs more lime.”

“Oh, sure, cuz.” With a flourish of his wrist, he squeezed more in. “Whatcha doin’ here? Did you an’ the boss lady have another knock-down drag-out?”

“Nuh-huh. Everything’s aces with me an’ Becky,” Baloo sighed. He put the glass to his mouth, but forgot to drink any of the Kamikaze Killer, because he was deep in thought.

“You’re bummed out, ‘cause we had yer bachelor party last weekend instead of tonight?”

“Nah, that don’t matter.” Baloo set the glass down and stared into it as if he were trying to read his fortune by the flecks of lemon and lime that were floating in it.

“Then whatcha doin’ mopin’ around here?”

Baloo glanced around the room, leaned in closer, and murmured, “Louie, tell me straight. Do ya think I can handle the whole ball-an’-chain an’ daddyhood thing?”

Louie’s loud guffaws carried over the customers’ cacophony. He clapped the big bear on the shoulder. “No prob, man! Any pilot at the top of the Wall of Fame can handle one wife an’ two kids. How hard can it be after dogfightin’ pirates?”

Baloo morosely grunted, “Hmph.”

Louie, taking another order from one of his waiters, said, “You an’ me have been buds for a long time. Do ya think I’d steer ya wrong?”

“Sure ya have.” A wicked grin crossed Baloo’s face. “There was that one time when...”

“Besides that.” The orangutan tossed fresh mango and coconut into a blender and added pineapple juice.

“Okay, what about that...?”

Louie peeled a banana before putting half of it into the blender. The other half he unceremoniously shoved into Baloo’s mouth. “So I ain’t a walkin’ compass like Kit. Look here, Baloo. You’re already a daddy to those kids. I’ve seen the way ya treat ‘em, an’ how much they look up to ya. An’ as for Rebecca, one peek at her pretty peepers an’ ya can see she thinks you’re the best thing since sliced bread. You got no worries.”

Baloo swallowed the banana, cupped his chin in one hand, and swirled the green Kamikaze Killer in the glass. “Easy for you to say. Youain’t gettin’ married tomorrow. Think what I’m givin’ up, Louie. Treasure hunts.”

“Take the family along. The more eyes, the merrier.” Over the noise of the blender, Louie chuckled, “Heck, you might even findsomethin’.”

“No more all night parties.”

“I betcha you can sweet-talk sweet Rebecca inta lettin’ you come to a couple shindigs.”

“Nah, it’d never fly. I’ll be under her thumb night an’ day.” Baloo’s demeanor became glummer, if possible. “It’ll be worse’n it is now.”

Louie handed a tray with the frothy fruit drink over the bar to a waiter. With a half-hearted laugh, he said, “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I envy you, man.”

Startled, Baloo’s head came up swiftly to look at his friend. “How come?”

“Just think ‘bout what you’re gainin’, Raymond.” Louie whipped out a white towel and began wiping down the bar. “You’re gonna have someone who cares ‘bout you all the time, even when you’re scrappin’. Someone there for ya when ya get old an’ grey. Well...you’re already grey an’ you ain’t no spring chicken no more. You’ve been outta the egg a long time.”

“I’m younger than you.” Baloo picked up his glass so that Louie could clean underneath it.

“Too bad it don’t show,” Louie joked, prompting a scowl from the big bear. “Pretty little wife to come home to every night, ta feed that bottomless pit you call a stomach.” He reached over the bar to poke a long finger at Baloo’s ample abdomen.

“Beckycan make a mean meal,” Baloo conceded grudgingly.

“Coupla great kids.” Louie winked slyly. “Maybe more.”

Baloo blushed furiously.

With practiced ease, Louie tossed the towel over his shoulder into a hamper. “Maybe you should forget gettin’ married. Forget the family thing. Forget it all. Stay a swingin’ single. It’ll be too tough livin’ with a spitfire like Rebecca anywhoo.”

“Be tougher livin’ without her,” Baloo murmured gruffly.

Once again, Louie clapped a hand to Baloo’s shoulder with an understanding smile. “That’s what I’m talkin’ about. You’re in too deep. There’s no

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