A Boo-tiful Halloween

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Higher for Hire
October 31, 1938

Molly von Bruinwald, clad in her pink pajamas, hopped from one foot to the other outside of the bathroom. “Mommy, hurry up! I gotta get ready for school!” the seven-year-old cried desperately, feeling as if her bladder was about to burst.

The girl’s father, Baloo, lumbered down the stairs from his bedroom on the third story and patted her golden head with a sleepy smile. “Who’s in there, Pigtails?” he yawned.

“Mommy,” Molly replied with a distressed expression.

“I shoulda guessed.” The big grey bear pounded on the door with a meaty fist. “Open up, Becky. Molly’s gotta go real bad. I can see her eyes swimmin’.” He winked at his daughter, prompting a tiny giggle from her.

There was no answer.

“Are ya sure she’s in there, kiddo?” he asked.

Molly nodded positively. “I saw her go in.”

When Baloo pressed his ear to the door, he heard an awful retching sound. He felt as if he was going to be sick himself.

“Is Mommy all right?” Molly, her little ear also pressed to the door, asked in a pitifully small voice. Her big brown eyes grew wider with fright. “She was sick yesterday, too.”

“She was sick yesterday?” Baloo echoed, astonished.

“Yeah, Daddy, in the morning.”

Peeved that his strong-willed wife didn’t inform him about her bout of sickness, Baloo pummeled on the door. “Becky, honey, are ya all right in there?”

A few seconds later, Molly sprinted into the bathroom as a nauseous Rebecca emerged.

“Ya okay, Beckers?” Baloo asked with a concerned look at his pale wife.

The petite brown bearess gulped. “I think I’m coming down with something.”

“Maybe ya oughta lie down fer a spell,” Baloo suggested, taking her by the arm. He led her back upstairs to their bedroom.

Rebecca jerked her arm away, frowning. “I can’t rest now, Baloo! The Mango Wango delivery will be here any second, and there’s paperwork to do, and clients to call, and I need to...ooohhhh...” She swallowed hard again, clutching her stomach.

“Right now ya need to rest, sweetheart. I’ll handle the Mango Wango shipment and call the doctor for ya.” He gently prodded her towards the bed. “Go on, Beckers, a little snooze won’t hurt ya.”

She smiled weakly at him and closed her eyes with a sigh as she curled up on the bed.

Baloo walked downstairs to the kitchen. “Do ya know what doctor ya mama goes to, Li’l Britches?”

“Uh-oh. That’s not a good question.” Kit, a brown bear cub, swiftly shifted his gaze from the back of the cereal box to his father. “What’s wrong with Mom?” the thirteen-year-old inquired around a mouthful of corn flakes.

“She’s got a tummyache.”

“That’s too bad. Hope she feels better soon.” Kit tipped back in his chair. With the bowl of his spoon, he pointed to a name on the list. “Mom always keeps a list of emergency numbers here on the fridge.”

“Thanks a heap, Kit-boy.” Snatching the piece of pink notepaper from the refrigerator, Baloo affectionately tousled Kit’s hair through his baseball cap. He selected a banana from a bunch sitting on the table.

“Papa Bear, do I haveto take Molly trick-or-treating tonight? We Jungle Aces were going to check out all the haunted houses, and I don’t want to be the only one with a little sister tagging along. Can’t Wildcat take her?”

Baloo chomped the banana down in three bites. He deftly flipped the peel over his shoulder into the garbage can. “Tell ya what, kid, if Becky don’t feel up ta goin’ to the Pilot’s Halloween Ball, I’ll take Molly.” He walked into the office/living room to call the doctor from the telephone on Rebecca’s desk.

Kit fleetingly wished that his mother wouldn’t feel better before the Pilot’s Ball. He loved his sister, but having to drag her all around town - especially with his friends along - was going to be a real drag. The boy returned to doing the word find on the back of the cereal box.

Later That Morning

Rebecca stepped into Higher for Hire with a huge smile on her face. She went to the doctor thinking that she had stomach flu and left knowing that she was pregnant. She couldn’t wait for Baloo to get home from his cargo run to share the good news. Then she thought, why wait?

Picking up the microphone, she said brightly, “Higher for Hire to Sea Duck. Come in Sea Duck.”

Baloo’s voice crackled over the radio. “Sea Duck here. What’s up, Beckers? ‘Sides me, that is.” He chuckled at his own joke.

Excited, Rebecca blurted out the news. “You know my doctor’s appointment? Well, darling...”

“You’re well?” Baloo interjected cheerfully. “That’s swell, honey!”

“No, I’m not well,” Rebecca said flatly, annoyed that he had interrupted her. “I mean, I am, but there’s something else. Something wonderful.” She smiled to herself, wondering how he was going to take the news. “We’re going to...”

“What? Whoa!” the pilot screamed. A big crackle of electrical interference shivered through the radio.

Rebecca was downright scared. Gripping the stem of the receiver tightly in both hands, she cried, “Baloo! What’s happening?”

“Man...too close...breakin’ up...some...lightnin’...Beck...ten miles out from Louies.” Then silence as the radio cut out completely.

Rebecca slammed the receiver on the desk down in frustration. “Great! Just great! I have something important to tell him, and he has to fly through a thunderstorm. Wait a minute. He said Louie’s.” She smiled with self-satisfaction at her deduction. “I’ll just call him there.”

Sorting through invoices and shipping orders on her desk, the bearess waited impatiently for what she thought was a proper interval for Baloo to reach Louie’s. A half an hour ought to do it. She quickly dialed Louie’s number. “Come on, pick up...” she muttered as the telephone rang several times. “Doesn’t anybody ever answer the phone there?”

“Louie’s place. You’re in luck. Ya got Louie.” The big ape laughed.

Rebecca could hear the raucous laughter of customers and a loud swing tune being belted out. Obviously a party was in progress. “Hi, Louie. Is Baloo there?”

“Heeeeeey, Becky baby. How’s things shakin’?”

“Fine. Can you please put Baloo on?” Rebecca asked, forcing herself to be calm.

“Sorry, Toots, no can do. Your man’s doin’ a mean mambo on stage right now.”

“A mambo?” Rebecca gritted her teeth.

“Yeah, that bear can sure party down. Whoo-hoo! Go, Cuz, go!”

“I don’t care if he’s juggling flaming sabers and balancing a bowling ball on his nose at the same time, Louie. Can you please put him on? It’s a very urgent matter!” she yelled over the deafening music.

“You goin’ bowling tonight, Rebecca? Sounds like fun. Oops, gotta motor, Sugar Cubes. More customers comin’. Dig ya later!” Louie shouted before hanging up.

Rebecca slammed down the receiver in disgust. “Oooo! I’m going to strangle that bear when he gets home! And that ape, too, if he ever gets within reach!”

That Evening

“How does my costume look, Mommy?” Molly said, twirling around before her mother. She was dressed as Danger Woman, her favorite radio heroine, in a colander hat and red blanket cape.

“Lovely, Pumpkin,” Rebecca replied. She sat on the sofa sewing up a rip in Kit’s costume. “And it was so easy to make.”

Molly giggled. The little girl pranced about the room, pretending to ward off evildoers with her spatula.

“Mom, why do I have to take Molly trick-or-treating?” Kit asked as his mother slipped the brown bomber jacket over his arms. He was already sporting a brown leather flight cap, goggles, and a beige scarf.

Rebecca snipped a loose thread from the hem of the jacket. “Because she’s been looking forward to going with her big brother all month, and it won’t kill you to have her along.”

Kit scowled morosely. “None of my friends have to take their kid sisters.”

“Think of it as a favor to me. You’ll have fun with her along. Just wait and see.” Rebecca smiled, playfully tweaking his nose. “Look at yourself in the mirror, Ace Pilot Kit.” She handed him a small mirror.

When Kit saw himself in his costume, a big grin shattered his frown. “Just four more years, Mom, then I’ll be a real pilot. Get my own plane. Gee whiz, it’ll be great!”

“You already have the outfit for it,” Rebecca laughed.

“I’ll be the navigator and the tail gunner!” Molly offered, jumping onto Kit’s back.

Kit ran around the office/living room with Molly making machine gun noises. “Ack-ack-ack! Ack-ack-ack-ack!”

“Ah, I’ve been shot!” Baloo exclaimed as he walked into Higher for Hire. “Oh! Ow! Ack! This is the end! I’m doomed! This is me dyin’! So long, cold, cruel world.” Clutching his chest, he pirouetted three times before dramatically dropping into his favorite red easy chair. “I’m solid gone! This is it!” He gave one last wheezy cough and was still.

“Finally!” Rebecca grumbled under her breath. “Baloo Augustus von Bruinwald, you’re late, as usual! We’re supposed to be at the Pilot’s Ball in fifteen minutes.”

The big bear cracked one eye open and flashed a mischievous grin at the giggling cubs. “Couldn’t help it, Becky. I got waylaid by a thunderstorm.”

Rebecca put her hands on her hips, scowling at her husband lounging in his easy chair, one leg slung over the chair’s arm. “And a party at Louie’s.”

“How’d ya know that?”

“I called there, flyboy. Louie told me that you were doing a mambo.”

“Hey, I had to wait out the storm. Might as well enjoy it. Why’d ya call Louie’s anyways?”

“Because I have a surprise for you.”

Baloo’s eyes lit up. He leaned forward in his chair. “Really? What is it, Beckers?”

“It’s something you want very much,” Rebecca said vaguely with a sly smile.

“An icebox for the Duck?” Baloo guessed.

“No.”

“Shucks.” He snapped his fingers with disappointment and slumped in his

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