Behind him trailed fifteen-year-old Kit, a lanky brown bear cub who hadn’t quite filled out around his height. The boy, who was slightly taller than his adopted father’s shoulders, seemed to be all arms and legs. His bony wrists protruded from his green pullover. Kit was listening to his nine-year-old sister, Molly, a pretty yellow bearess wearing a pink T-shirt and blue shorts, chatter on about navigation.

“I gotta learn how to navigate now so I can be your navigator when you start flying, Kit,” Molly said earnestly. “That’s only two years away.”

Plopping down on the sage green couch, Kit took off his blue baseball cap and studied it. It was almost too small for him, but so special that he didn’t want to give up wearing it. He said cautiously, “I dunno, sis. Navigation’s a hard thing to learn, and you’re kinda young.”

“Youknew how to navigate when you were my age. You said so!”

“That was different.”

“Differenthow?” Hands on hips, Molly glared at him defiantly.

Exasperated, Rebecca said in her polite phone voice, “Excuse me a moment, Mr. Bixby.” She put her hand over the receiver and whispered loudly, “Guys, keep it down! I’m on the phone!” She shot a reproving look at Kit and Molly, then whispered, “Take her, Baloo,” gesturing to Cassie, who was now trying to devour a pencil.

Baloo scooped Cassie in his arms and repeatedly tossed her in the air, prompting joyful squeals and giggles from the baby.

With a sigh of relief, Rebecca turned her undivided attention to the client on the telephone. “Can you please repeat that, sir?...Yes, sir. You can have the utmost confidence that Higher for Hire will deliver your cargo anywhere in the world, on time, and for far less money than the competition. We even promise same-day delivery.”

Meanwhile, Cassie had wriggled out of Baloo’s arms and had gone in search of a new amusement. She toddled over to a pot and wooden spoon that were lying on the floor near the stairs and started ‘drumming’.

Grinning, Baloo got his bongos from the top of the filing cabinet and joined her on the stairs. His drumming added to the cacophony. He proclaimed proudly, “Lookee, gang. We got us a new member for Louie’s Aloha Night Band.”

“That noise?...Oh, no, that’s not a fire alarm. That’s just my youngest daughter.” Rebecca glared at Baloo and mouthed, “Stop that!”

However, Baloo was too engrossed in playing that he ignored her, causing Rebecca’s anger level to be upgraded from ‘mildly peeved’ to ‘really steamed’.

Rebecca covered her free ear to block out the noise. Sotto voce, she said, “I’d like to stick those bongos in that fat bear’s ear!” Aloud, she said pleasantly, “Oh, you have a little girl, too? How nice. Now, about that contract...Eighteen months, huh? That isa cute age.” She forced a polite laugh. “A quarter up each nostril? Kids will do the darndest things...Mine? Kit’s fifteen, Molly’s nine, and Cassie’s almost one. I could tell you some stories...” Straining to hear Mr. Bixby’s reply over the din, she shot death glares at her soon-to-be late family.

Baloo and Cassie continued their enthusiastic jam session, while, on the other side of the room, Kit’s and Molly’s argument escalated.

“Navigation’s not all fun and games, Molly. Some cargo runs are dangerous,” Kit pointed out. “There’s a war on. Then, there’s air pirates, storms...”

“Iknow,” Molly interrupted impatiently. “You’ve told me all this lots of times.”

In the infuriatingly superior air of a real man-of-the-world, fifteen-year-old Kit retorted, “But you haven’t been through it. There’s a big difference between knowing about it and actually going through it. Baloo and I are used to danger.”

“I can get used to danger, too!” Molly shouted. “Stop treating me like a little kid!”

Kit stood. At his full height, he towered over his sister. He ruffled his hair, laughing, “You are a little kid, Short Stuff!”

“Am not!”

“Are, too!”

“Am not!”

“Are, too!”

Through gritted teeth, Rebecca said, “Yes, children are wonderful, Mr. Bixby. Excuse me a second. I must check up on the...ahem...little angels.” She put a hand over the receiver and yelled at the top of her lungs, “Enough!”

A startled silence fell over Baloo and the cubs.

Frustrated, frazzled, and furious, Rebecca whispered, “If any one of you so much as thinks about making a sound while I am on this phone, you will be living on bread and water for a month!”

Baloo swiftly grabbed the spoon from Cassie.

In a honeyed voice, Rebecca said into the phone, “What were you saying, sir? A...a play date? Why, um, yes, that would be awonderful idea! Simply marvelous! I’m sure your Susie would get along with my Cassie very nicely. Just name the date...July 2nd at two o’clock? That will work just fine. I’m looking forward to meeting you and Susie. Thank you very,very much for your time, Mr. Bixby. Bye.”

Rebecca hung up the receiver. For a moment, it looked like she would scream or cry or both. Then, to everyone’s amazement, she smiled and made a notation in her appointment book. “One play date closer to landing the Bixby Ballpoint Pen account. Thank you, Cassie.”

Cassie happily pounded on the pot with her little palms. Seeing that his wife’s temper had cooled, Baloo resumed tentative playing of the bongos.

“Mom, tell Kit that he has to teach me navigation. He promised he would,” Molly whined, running up to her mother.

Rebecca sighed wearily and rubbed her temples. It had been a long day. Between trying to line up new clientele and appeasing existing clients, she had a tension headache. The last thing she needed was a case of sibling rivalry. “Kit, come over here.”

“Now you’re in trouble,” Molly said with a smirk.

Kit wandered over to the desk and stood in front of it, fiddling with his baseball cap.

Rebecca had to crane her neck to look her tall son in the eye. “Teach her the basics, please. For me?”

Kit shot an annoyed look at his sister, who was batting her eyelashes at him. “Okay, Mom, but just the basics.”

“Yippee!” Molly cried.

“Molly, I don’t want you pestering your brother,” Rebecca warned.

“I won’t.” Molly grabbed Kit’s paw, dragging him outside to theSea Duck. “C’mon, Kit, teach me right now.”

But before they reached the door, Kit’s friends, the former Jungle Aces, came walking in - tan hyena Ernie, grey hippo Felix, brown rabbit Sam, white crane Burt, and beige bear Oscar.

Ernie, the unofficial leader of the gang, was saying, “If Usland was in the war, we’d blast old Hilter out of the water in no time. He wouldn’t know what hit him.”

“Yeah!” the other boys agreed heartily.

“Just wait ‘til we’re old enough,” added Burt.

“We’ll show him a thing or two,” Felix said confidently.

Baloo and Rebecca exchanged worried glances.

“What’s up, guys?” Kit said, pulling his hand away from Molly’s.

“We’re going to the malt shop,” Oscar said, pushing his round wire-rimmed glasses further up his nose. “Wanna come along, Kit?”

“You bet.” Anything was better than teaching complicated navigation to his sister. He knew that precocious Molly wouldn’t be totally lost when he taught her navigation, but he didn’t want to spend his summer vacation in school, so to speak.

“I’m ready,” Molly chimed in, squeezing into the circle of big boys.

“Youcan’t go, pipsqueak,” Ernie laughed.

Molly fixed her indignant eyes on him. “Why not?”

Sam said, “We’re gonna talk about cars, planes, and girls.”

“I’m a girl,” the nine-year-old said, pointing to herself. “I know all about girls.”

“Not the right kind of girl,” Ernie countered.

“What’s the right kind of girl?” Molly said wonderingly.

Ernie outlined a curvy female silhouette with his hands. “Biggirls, if ya know what I mean,” prompting a few snickers from the other teenagers as they headed outside.

Kit frowned at Ernie’s back. He said quickly, “Never mind, Molly.”

Oscar, the only boy besides Kit who hadn’t laughed at Ernie’s tasteless remark, explained with a kind smile, “High school girls.”

“Maybe next time, little sis,” Kit said, affectionately tugging on one of Molly’s blue hair ribbons.

Molly turned on her heel and stomped into the kitchen, muttering dourly, “Too young to do this. Too young to do that.”

“Got any money, Kit?” Rebecca asked.

Kit produced a five dollar bill from his pocket.

“Hey, where was that when we were in Kalakazoo, an’ I wanted a burger and fries?” Baloo exclaimed, missing a beat on the bongos.

“Guess I forgot I had it, Papa Bear.” Kit shrugged and flashed a mischievous grin at Baloo before leaving.

Baloo said glumly, “It’s a conspiracy. You’re all tryin’ ta keep me hungry.”

“No, we’re trying to keep you healthy,” Rebecca rejoined, giggling at his dejected expression.

“Mom, we’re all out of Frosty Pep,” Molly sang, coming from the kitchen.

A crafty idea lit up Baloo’s eyes. He saw his chance to get ice cream, too, and he took it. “No Frosty Pep, huh? How’s ‘bout I treat my gals to some ice cream at the corner stand?” He tapped out “Shave and a Haircut” on the bongos.

“Yeah!” Molly shouted.

“Yeah!” Cassie echoed, imitating her big sister. She enthusiastically banged the wooden spoon against the step.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” Baloo wheedled, crossing the room to wrap an arm around his wife’s shoulders. “One little ice cream cone never hurt nobody.” At risk of life and limb, he added, “All work an’ no play makes Becky a cranky gal.”

“I’mnot cranky!” Rebecca snapped, her eyes flashing. Then, abashed, she murmured contritely, “Maybe I am a little, but youwould be too if you had to put up with what I have to put up with.” Her gaze shifted from the girls to her husband, all of whom were smiling expectantly at her. Once again, she was outnumbered. Not for the last time did she wonder: How does Baloo always manage to

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