Baloo’s shoulder, putting a damper on his happiness. “But what about Miz Cunningham?”

It took everything Rebecca had to keep her emotions under control. “Oh, I’ll be all right.” She hugged the briefcase. She’d give it all up and more just to have Baloo and Kit stay. “Why, with this money, I’ll get a new plane and a pilot.” Her voice nearly cracked when she concluded in a quavering tone, “Only the best for Higher for Hire.”

“But you guys are friends,” Kit reminded softly.

Baloo wrapped a friendly arm around Rebecca’s shoulders and pulled her to his side. “Aw, we’ll still be friends. It’s not like I’m movin’ to the other side of the world, just the other side of the tracks,” he chuckled.

Rebecca looked up at her soon-to-be ex-flight crew with a feeble smile masking her sorrow.

Early the Next Morning

Baloo wasted no time in packing up his few belongings and leaving Higher for Hire. He was so excited that he didn’t notice Kit’s somber expression when they got into the Sea Duck and took off. Kit thought it was all happening too fast; he didn’t even have a chance to say good-bye to Miz Cunningham, Molly, and Wildcat. A few minutes later, they were at their destination. The Sea Duck was now nestled between two millionaires’ yachts in the prosperous section of the harbor.

“How do ya like it, kiddo?” The big bear took a deep breath. “Smell that rich air,” he said, grinning, as he tied the plane to the gold-plated post. “Lots cleaner than that other air an’ the water looks bluer, too. Maybe they’re imported.”

“Great, Baloo.” If Kit looked really hard, he could barely make out the shiny tin roof of Higher for Hire across the harbor reflecting the sunrise.

“Yessirree, from now on yer gonna have everythin’ yer heart desires. Speakin’ of which...” Baloo whipped a box out of the cargo hold and handed it to Kit.

Kit tore off the red bow and wrapping paper to reveal a model airplane kit, one that he had wanted for a long time. “An Aronca P-39 Thunderbuster?” he squeaked. “Gee, thanks, Papa Bear!” He hurled himself at Baloo.

Baloo hugged the boy back and pushed his cap down over his eyes. “Now, you better get goin’ ta school, L’il Britches.”

After Kit left, Baloo threw on his jacket and tie and took a cab to Khan Towers. He was in Shere Khan’s office even before the businessman was, and Khan’s living quarters were right above his office.

“Ah-ha. Just the typhoon I’m lookin’ for.” Baloo ceased spinning his cap on his index finger to procure a list from his jacket.

Shere Khan took his seat, paying more attention to the papers in his hands than to Baloo. Money waited for no man, especially a poor, nobody pilot.

“I think I’ll start with a set of trains, a rolly-coaster, a platypus, a purple kite, seven snakes, a pinball machine, an’ a carton of chewin’ gum.”

“Granted.” Khan cracked one of his rare smiles, slightly amused at Baloo’s proletarian tastes. “Is that it?”

“It?” Baloo laughed. “I haven’t even warmed up yet! A monogrammed hammock, two pairs of snow shoes, a blue kazoo, a bag of goobers, a thousand ping-pong balls...”

That evening...

Khan was boiling with fury.  Baloo hadn’t stopped asking for things all day - the stupidest things in the world - and he didn’t show any signs of stopping. This was costing him a fortune. Not only in paying for these imbecilic items, but in invaluable time.

Wearily, Baloo droned on, “A peck of pickled peppers, twelve dozen snorkels, an electric bow tie, two baseball bats - one for each team. A hundred pairs of wax lips. No, make that two hundred pairs of wax lips.”

Khan crumpled up a paper, wishing that it was Baloo’s face.

“Boy, my mouth is dry. Askin’ for stuff is hard work. I’ll break an’ be back tomorrow with more.” With a tired wave, Baloo got into the elevator, unaware that he was annoying Shere Khan to no end.

Khan glared at Baloo’s retreating form. He’d endured all he was going to endure. He pushed the intercom button and demanded of his secretary, Ms. Snarly, “Send in Garth. I have a job. I do deplore,” he slammed his fist down on a beetle crawling across his desk, “pests!” The insect’s carcass was flicked off the desk in disdain.

Higher for Hire
The Next Day

Hand in hand, Rebecca and Molly rounded the corner of Higher for Hire. Rebecca was in good spirits, for she had finally located a pilot. Better still, he came highly recommended by the staff at the Pilot’s Agency.

“Well, Molly, pretty soon we’re going to have a brand-new pilot. We’ll do even better than before.” She knelt down before Molly, placing her paws on the little girl’s shoulders. “Aren’t you excited?”

“Uh-huh, but why is the new pilot called The Barber?”

“I don’t know, honey, but I’m told he’s very good.”

Just then a boxy, grey twin-engine cargo plane zoomed out the sky, shaved the tops off a row of trees behind Higher for Hire, and plunged towards the two bearesses.

“Aah!” Rebecca screamed, throwing Molly to the ground and diving on top of her.

To Rebecca’s immense dissatisfaction, the plane landed at the end of Higher for Hire’s dock. This daredevil obviously was her new pilot. Seething with anger, Rebecca stomped down the dock, fists clenched. She was going to give that pilot the what for. He was going to find out who was the boss! Molly, mimicking her mother’s scowl and demeanor, trailed after her.

A scrawny, middle-aged cheetah emerged from the plane. He was slightly taller than Rebecca and wore a brown leather flight cap, goggles, and navy flight jacket. A bandage was wrapped around the tip of his tail. He pulled a bulging suitcase from the plane’s innards. Clothes poked out from the sides of the suitcase.

“What’s the matter with you? What kind of pilot flies like that?” Rebecca snapped, hands on hips.

“Crop duster, ma’am. But I had to give it up,” The Barber said in a shaky voice. “Nerves, see?” He held out two trembling hands.

“Well, in the future I expect you to fly higher.”

“Can’t. Got this pesky fear of heights.” He put the suitcase on the dock. Then, placing one hand over his mismatched eyes, he tentatively, tremulously stepped down from the six inch step. Rebecca and Molly looked on, fascinated and astonished.

“Of course I could wear a blindfold,” The Barber suggested.

“Blindfold!” Rebecca gasped.

“You’re right,” the pilot agreed gravely. “Have this pesky fear of the dark, too.”

Rebecca thought, What have I gotten myself into? A pilot who’s afraid of heights? And the dark? I’m going to have a little chat with the head of the Pilot’s Agency! Highly qualified, indeed! Highly qualified for a loony bin! However, she only asked, “Is there anything else you’re afraid of?”

“You don’t happen to have any platypuses around, do you?” came the unexpected question.

Rebecca shook her head, mouth hanging open slightly. Why did he have to be the only available cargo pilot?

“I just hate platypuses.” Clutching his suitcase tightly in both hands, The Barber cast timid glances from side to side - on the lookout for platypuses and other scary creatures - as he walked into Higher for Hire.

“Mommy, I miss Baloo,” Molly stated, leaning against her mother’s legs. The Barber seemed to be like he wouldn’t be any fun to play like, unlike jovial Baloo.

“Oh, me, too, Molly. Me, too.”

The Sea Duck

One evening three days into their new lifestyle, Baloo and Kit lounged on deck chairs on the Sea Duck’swing, watching the sun sink lower in the horizon. Both bears were enjoying a piece of birthday cake. Baloo had at least one cake delivered daily from the bakery. He said that now that he was rich, every day seemed like his birthday.

“Ain’t this the life, kid?” Baloo queried merrily, taking a sip of his frothy chocolate soda. “No work, no bosses, no worries. Nuthin’ but a whole lotta nuthin’.” The big bear stretched out on the well-padded chair.

Taking a bite of chocolate cake, Kit grinned over at Baloo, who now wore a snappy powder blue tuxedo, a matching top hat, and a monocle - the very picture of prosperity. Kit was happy, too. He liked the ability to choose whatever he wanted to do, after school hours, of course. Yet something was missing...

The boy fixed his eyes across the harbor where he knew Higher for Hire was. He still thought of it as home. Don’t get me wrong, Kit enjoyed the luxuries, but wasn’t ecstatically happy like Baloo. It wasn’t that he didn’t like all of the gadgets and toys cluttering the cargo hold. They were fun playthings. It was that he preferred the old, simpler life when Baloo was working for Rebecca. He missed the Cunninghams and Wildcat. He missed cloudsurfing. He missed navigating. He missed going to exotic, and not so exotic, places with Baloo on cargo trips. They hadn’t gone anywhere in the past three days. At least not in the Sea Duck. With all of the additions and the chock-full cargo hold, it was too heavy, even with the new, souped-up engines, to take off.

Kit just wanted things to be the way they were before. He wanted to have Rebecca smile at him, wanted to play with Molly, wanted to help Wildcat fix something. Of course, he could never tell Baloo that. He wouldn’t understand.

At last the sun dipped below the horizon, leaving just a faint stain of sunlight dancing on the dark water. The velvety purple sky was smudged with pale pinks and oranges and sprinkled with a myriad of stars.

Baloo sighed in contentment and got up for another soda from his personal soda fountain. “Don’t get much better’n that, huh, Kit?” he said, meaning the sunset.

With one last longing look across the harbor, Kit echoed softly, “Not much better than that.” He wasn’t referring to the sunset.

Higher for Hire
The Next Day

Rebecca felt rather than heard The Barber’s plane buzz Higher for Hire, shaking the building on its foundation. A sprinkling of dust fell from the

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