exhilarated Rebecca emerged from the plane. “What did I tell you, Baloo? Ten whole minutes ahead of schedule!” she bragged with a big grin.

“Take your mangoes an’...” Baloo growled.

“Papa Bear!” Kit warned, tugging on his father’s arm with a shake of his head.

“Go fly,” Baloo finished, glaring at his smug wife. He slapped the packet of paperwork containing the invoice from the Mango Wango Company, the packing slip, and the air waybill in her paws and stomped up the dock.

“On the shipping sheet it says thirty crates. Why are there only twenty-nine, Baloo?” Rebecca complained.

Baloo spun around, sharing a twisted little smile with Molly. Between clenched teeth, he hissed, “Just be glad they’re mangoes, Becky!”

“What’s that supposed to meant? Of course they’re mangoes! What else would they be? And who’s going to help me load them into the plane?”

The big bear was going to yell ‘do it yourself!’, but he caught the reproachful looks of his children and felt ashamed. He knew the cubs hated when they argued. “I’ll help ya,” he sighed.

While Baloo grunted and groaned under the weight of the crates - the very same ones he had unloaded from the car seconds before - Rebecca chattered happily. “The delivery to New Fedora was so simple! I don’t know why you think it’s tiring, Baloo. Sit and steer; the plane does the rest.”

He shot a dirty look at her, rubbed his aching back, and picked up another heavy crate.

“I’ve decided it’s unnecessary to take Wildcat along on the next trip.”

Baloo nearly dropped the crate on his foot in astonishment. “But, Beckers, if somethin’ went wrong, I’d feel better if...”

“I can handle it,” she said confidently.

“Air pirates...”

“Why would pirates want mangoes?” Rebecca snapped.

“Dunno, honey, but Karnage can be real mean if ya cross him.” Baloo reeled off every possible catastrophe that he could think of, but Rebecca waved him aside.

Adamantly, she stated, “Kit and I are going to stop at Louie’s to refuel, and then we’re off to Jai Frais. I trust you’ve had a profitable day?”

He frowned at the jeering tone in her voice. “Sure have. Even got ya a new customer. Deliverin’ golf balls in Tartanland for...” squinting, he tried to read the smudged writing on his hand; “Jerry Nickercracker? Nickerbocker? Nickelwickel? Nickelsanddimes? Is that an ‘M’ or an ‘N’, Kit-boy?”

“It looks like a squiggly worm,” offered Wildcat. “I didn’t know worms played golf.”

Chortling, Rebecca nimbly climbed into the cockpit. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out by the time we get back, Baloo.”

“Good luck, Papa Bear!” Kit shouted over the roar of the engines as he got into the plane.

“You’re going to need it!” Rebecca laughed.

On the Road to Jai Frais

Twirling his sextant absently in his hands, Kit stared at the bearess who had been his mother for the past two weeks. His mother! Kit loved that phrase. He never thought he’d ever see the day when he would actually have parents, let alone terrific parents like Baloo and Rebecca. He’d been an orphan as far back as he could remember - living in orphanages until he was nine, knocking about from town to town as a street urchin for two years, that horrible eleven months with the air pirates. What bizarre twist of fate brought him here? Here he was with his mother, and he still couldn’t quite believe it to be real.

In all of his thirteen years, Kit had never felt so loved, so wanted, so secure before. Since the wedding, both parents, but especially Rebecca, had lavishly showered him with hugs and kisses, fond smiles, and kind words. Kit’s love-starved heart soaked it all up and craved more. Right now, he was perfectly satisfied to sit and gaze at her pretty face. For once, flying and navigating took a backseat. He barely registered where they were or what Rebecca was saying.

“I know Baloo says it’s because Louie likes me, but does that big ape have to kiss my hand every time we meet? I mean, courtesy and friendliness is one thing, but wanton slobbering is an entirely different...Kit, what is it?”

“What?” Hearing his name, the cub snapped out of his daydream.

“You had a funny smile on your face.” She checked the Sea Duck’s gauges. “Am I piloting all right?”

Kit blushed, focusing on the map in his lap. He’d been wondering what it would be like to call her ‘Mom’. He wanted to, but it just didn’t seem right somehow. It was hard enough not to call her ‘Miz Cunningham’. “You’re doing fine, Rebecca.”

“Are you feeling okay?” she inquired concernedly.

“I’m fine.”

Rebecca patted his hand. “As long as you’re positive, honey. But if we need to go home, we can.”

Tears sprang to Kit’s eyes. She’d be willing to forgo the delivery because of him? Her, to whom every delivery was of immense importance? Kit had known very few adults who would throw away money for his sake. The boy shook his head, blinking back tears.

“If you’re sure, Kit,” Rebecca said, attempting to read his expression.

He kept his eyes averted from her, looking out the window. “I’m sure,” he whispered, willing the tears to subside. He silently cursed himself; recently, tears came too easily. Kit would never live it down if Ernie and his other Jungle Ace friends found out that he was a sissy crybaby.

“Kit, you can tell me anything. I’m here anytime you need to talk; you know that. It all happened so fast - the engagement and the wedding. Molly and I moving into Higher for Hire. Your adoption.”

“Made my head spin,” Kit admitted.

“Mine, too, Kit. I know this must be hard on you, to have to share Baloo when you had him to yourself for so long; not to mention adjusting to living with two females.”

Kit beamed at her mischievously. “You do hog the bathroom sometimes.”

Rebecca returned the smile. “Is there anything else besides the bathroom that’s bothering you?”

“Well...” Kit fidgeted in his seat.

“Well, what?”

“I don’t want to sound ungrateful or whiny or anything.”

“Sweetie, if something is bothering you, you should say something. I - Baloo and I both - only want you to be happy.”

“I’d...I’d like more alone time, I guess,” he murmured. Noticing her slightly confused, hurt reaction, he added quickly, “Nothing personal, Rebecca!”

The bearess nodded thoughtfully. “None taken. I think we can manage to give you more space. I’ll have a little chat with Molly about it. She’s just so excited to have someone to play with, she overdoes it.”

“I don’t want to get her in trouble,” Kit said sheepishly.

“She’s not in trouble. Is there anything else?” Rebecca gently prodded.

“No, Rebecca,” he stated truthfully.

“Then what was with the funny smile?”

Kit chuckled inwardly. He knew she would weasel it out of him by hook or by crook, so he might as well confess. “I was just thinking how wonderful it is to have my own mother.”

Reaching over to caress the boy’s cheek tenderly, Rebecca said, “It’s wonderful to have you for a son, Kit.”

Embarrassed, he checked his compass and map.

“Another course correction, navigator?”

“Nah, we’re right where we should be,” Kit said quietly, meeting her eyes. A shy grin slowly grew across his face.

Rebecca gave him an understanding smile.

Two hours later, the Sea Ducksoared over rippling green fields dotted with farms located in Usland’s grain belt. Squares of green as far as the eye could see. However, there was trouble in the midst of even this peaceful setting. Directly in front of them, smack dab in their flight path, loomed a thunderstorm.

Rebecca nervously tapped her fingers on the control yoke. She’d never flown through a thunderstorm before, and from the towering, black clouds, sharp flashes of lightning, and torrential downpour - noticeable even from a distance - this one appeared severe. Trying to sound casual, yet betrayed by the fear in her eyes, she asked, “What would your Papa Bear do, navigator?”

Kit had been with Baloo through countless storms. He always marveled at his father’s piloting abilities and his instincts in flying through the worst storms. But Baloo was a seasoned pilot at the top of Louie’s Air Race Wall of Fame, whereas Rebecca was a novice. The boy suggested the safe thing. “Go around. Definitely go around.”

“Plot us a course, Kit.”

They were now over Wheatina. Depending upon how large the system was, how fast it was moving, and in what direction, it could possibly take them hours out of their flight path. Kit knew Rebecca wouldn’t like it. In fact, she would hate it. But, as he told himself, getting them and the Sea Duckthere in one piece was more important than being punctual. “Set course oh-oh-three degrees north and increase the throttle slightly. We’ll try to outrun it.”

Rebecca banked the Sea Duck to the left. “Kit, how much time will we lose? Will we be able to deliver on time?”

It was the question Kit had dreaded. He frowned at the map and his watch. “To tell you the truth, Rebecca...”seeing her hopeful, anxious expression, he fibbed; “it’ll be close.” There was no need to get her upset. And who knew? There still was a minuscule, microscopic chance that they could make it on time - if a miracle occurred.

The bearess smiled at the thirteen-year-old. She was so proud that this intelligent, thoughtful, handsome, full-of-moxie boy was her son. Brightly, Rebecca said, “You never told me what color you wanted your room painted, sweetie.”

Kit glanced up guiltily. He had been mentally calculating. There was no getting around it; no matter what path they took, they were going to be late. He faced a dilemma: keep the news to himself or tell her. He decided to stall while he did more figuring. “I don’t know. I kinda like my room the way it is.”

“That’s fine; you don’t have to change it. You’re still going to help with Molly’s room, aren’t you?”

“Sure, Rebecca.”

“She wants hers to be a pale lavender.”

Absentmindedly, he

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