While the children circled around them, Rebecca gazed up at Baloo. She was relieved to see him looking more relaxed. Gazing straight into his eyes, she said very sincerely, “Tomorrow’s going to be wonderful. Just wait.”

Baffle Island

Moonlight from the crescent moon filtered down through the palm trees. The sound of the wind whispering through the palm fronds mingled with the gentle sloshing of the waves against the island’s shore.

Inside the underground cave, things weren’t quite so peaceful.

“Tomorrow is going to be a wonderful day,” Don Karnage proclaimed as he lazily lounged on a lounge chair in one corner of the cave, watching his pirate crew scurry around in preparation for the next day.

“Because you’re getting an award, Captain?” Mad Dog asked in his nasal voice. He was kneeling on the sandy floor, offering a plate piled with grapes, bananas, apples, and oranges to Karnage. His knees and arms burned with pain.

“Yes, nincompup!” He backhanded Mad Dog across the snout, causing him to drop the plate. Mad Dog scrambled to pick up the oranges that were rolling away. “Those Cape Suzette-ians won’t know what hit them when their hero wonder plunders them from top to bottommouses.”

His triumphant laughter rang through the cavern, now lined with a fleet of airplanes of all makes and models. The lantern light glinted off of their shiny, new paint.

End of part 1

For Better or For Worse
Part 2

Saturday Morning
On the Other Side of the Cape Suzette Cliffs
Dawn

Everything was peaceful above the placid Pacific Ocean. In the east, pale pinks and yellows were gradually inching their way into the cloudless, pale grey sky. There wasn’t a living thing in sight except for a few seagulls hunting for their breakfast and the occasional dolphin leaping from the water in a graceful arc.

Things were livelier beneath the ocean’s surface. A giant squid floated leisurely in a murky sea teeming with fish and crustaceans of all sizes and colors. A pod of porpoises scattered when a small, copper-colored submarine broke through their ranks, speeding along on its erratic course towards Cape Suzette. Crowded into the cramped quarters of the submarine were Dumptruck and Mad Dog. Streams of sweat poured down Dumptruck’s face as he peddled the stationary bicycle that moved the rear propellor.

Mad Dog, uncaring as to his colleague’s sweaty plight, peered through the periscope. “There’s the cliffs.”

“How much farther?” Dumptruck panted, feeling as though his legs would drop off.

“Closer...closer...”

The submarine rammed into the cliffs with a jarring jolt, causing Dumptruck to vault over the bicycle’s handlebars. He landed with a ‘thump’ on top of Mad Dog.

“We’re here,” said Mad Dog’s weak, muffled voice.

The submarined surfaced. The hatch opened. The pirates climbed out and tied the submarine to the cliffs.

“We’ve gotta go all the way up there?” Mad Dog asked, a slight tremor in his voice. He gazed up the side of the rugged cliff, which seemed to stretch on forever.

“Der captain said there vas an elevator somevere that goes to the top,” Dumptruck reminded him. He started scaling the cliffs.

Mad Dog followed suit. A pebble rolled from under his foot and bounced onto the sharp rocks protruding out at the base of the cliffs. A soft whimper escaped from his throat. “The things we do for money.”

“A load of money,” Dumptruck added from just above.

“You’d think there would be an easier...ow!” Mad Dog yelped. “You’re standing on my hand, you ninny!”

“Well, beg my pardon.” Dumptruck moved his foot and looked down at Mad Dog, who was shaking his sore, flattened hand. Then he poked his head over a ledge and spied a run-down shack nestled against the cliffs. Crouching in front of the shack was an elderly pig, who whistled cheerfully while he flipped pancakes over an open fire.

“Why are you stopping?” Mad Dog asked, hiking himself up with difficulty. He also peeked over the ledge. “Are we at the elevators?”

“There’s a man there, and he's a pig,” Dumptruck whispered loudly.

“You're a slob, too, ” Mad Dog snapped, annoyed. Seeing the porcine, he said, "Oh, you're right. He is a pig." The skinny brown ferret hoisted himself onto the ledge, charged over to the stubbly-faced man and stuck the barrel of his gun at his nose. Dumptruck quickly did likewise.

“Hi, folks,” said the porcine in a friendly manner, squinting up at the pirates. He continued to turn the pancakes in the skillet. “Name’s Barney. Are ya passin’ through?”

“You could say that,” said Dumptruck evasively. He also aimed his gun at Barney.

“We’re looking for the elevator that goes to the top of the cliffs where they keep the cannons. Tell us, or you’re toast!” Mad Dog demanded.

As if being held up by pirates was an everyday occurrence, Barney said nonchalantly, “It’s right back there, around the corner from my place. I’ve used it a million times. Used to work the cannons. Polished ‘em every day, you know. Yessiree, Bob. I polished those guns every day for fifty years. Never missed a day, except for that one day when...”

While Barney rambled on about his past exploits, Mad Dog and Dumptruck pushed past him, but not before Dumptruck snagged a couple of pancakes.

Barney, watching them go, stroked his bristly chin and shook his head. He flipped the remaining flapjacks onto a chipped plate and poured maple syrup over them. “Some people are always in an all-fire hurry. It’s like I’ve said a million times, people just need to relax more. Stop and smell the roses or the pancakes or whatever.”

Meanwhile
Atop the Cape Suzette Cliffs

The sun was barely peeking over the verdant hills on the eastern edge of Cape Suzette when a large, beige sheepdog dressed in a grey uniform stepped from the elevator embedded in the cliffs. He punched his time card in the time clock, saying, “Morning, Ralph.” A lanky brown wolf attired in a similar grey uniform had appeared beside him and had picked up his own time card from the holder.

“Morning, Sam,” replied the wolf through a yawn. He punched his card and put it back into the holder. “That was a short night.”

“Looks like another normal workday,” Sam commented. He began going over the checklist for the cannon nicknamed ‘Big Bertha’.

“Yeah,” said Ralph through another yawn. He walked over to the coffee maker that sat on a small table and poured himself a cup of coffee. “Another normal day of defending Cape Suzette from intruders.”

“Feel up to a game of checkers?” The sheepdog signed and dated the checklist and hung the clipboard back on the cannon.

“Why not.” Ralph sat down across the table from Sam and watched the steady stream of aircraft pour through the cliff opening. “Sure are a lot of planes coming into Cape Suzette today.”

“Civic Awards day.” Sam set the checker pieces in their places.

“Oh, that’s right.” Ralph slid one of his black pieces forward one space. “Don Karnage is getting an award, isn’t he?”

“Yep,” Sam said laconically, moving one of his red pieces.

“Who would have thought Don Karnage would get the Hero of the Year award after all of the times he’s tried to sneak into Cape Suzette to plunder?”

“Yep,” said Sam again, jumping three of his opponent’s pieces.

Pondering his next move, Ralph frowned at the checkerboard. “Makes you wonder what other topsy-turvy things are going to happen.”

“Don’t it though!” said Mad Dog as Dumptruck grabbed both by their throats, prompting a garbled ‘urp’ from the guards.

Sam and Ralph were swiftly tied up and pieces of duct tape were slapped across their mouths.

“How do we get to the other cliffs so we can tie up the other guards?” Mad Dog asked, pointing his weapon at the captives.

“Mmmm-mmm-mmm!” Ralph mumbled.

“Say what?” Mad Dog whined. He tore the piece of duct tape from Ralph’s mouth, ripping out hunks of fur with it.

“Ouch! We won’t tell you, you pirates!”

“I think you vill,” Dumptruck chuckled evilly. He pulled a few sticks of TNT from his pocket and propped them between the guards. He struck a match against the cliffs and held the lit match close to the fuse.

Cold sweat beaded on the guards’ foreheads as they watched the flame. Ralph choked out, “Bridge. Take the footbridge across the cliff opening. It’s three floors down. Then, take the elevator up to the top.”

Mad Dog slapped another piece of duct tape across Ralph’s mouth, saying sarcastically, “Thanks for your kind cooperation.” Out of the corner of his eye, he happened to catch sight of a familiar-looking airplane as it flew through the cliff opening. “There goes Bandersnatch.”

Dumptruck turned to watch the steady stream of pirate-manned airplanes pass through the cliffs. A big grin crossed his heavy features. “Der captain’s plan is working. Ouch!” The match had burned down to his fingers, scorching them.

“Getting into Cape Suzette has never been easier,” Mad Dog chuckled. “Let’s take care of the other cliff guards.”

“Okay.” Dumptruck put the dynamite back in his pocket.

“Don’t go anywhere,” Mad Dog told the cliff guards with a snide chuckle. He and Dumptruck headed back to the elevator.

Sam and Ralph sat, bound and gagged, with their backs to the cliffs. They exchanged glances that clearly said, What do we do now?

Higher for Hire

Kit awoke. Sleepily pulling off his pink earmuffs, the thirteen-year-old vaguely knew that today was special, but his fuzzy mind couldn’t quite remember why. Then, like a lightning flash, it struck him. This was the day that Baloo and Miz

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