control yoke - and bent down to pick the charts out of the clutter. “Where’s a navigator when I need one?” he muttered to himself. He pulled a wad of old gum off of one of the charts and popped it into his mouth. “Every time I try to go somewheres, I get lost tryin’ ta find it or I get lost when I get there, just like last month’s crazy trip to Walla-Walla Bing Bang.”

He rifled through the charts. “Crab Town...Crab Town...ah-ha!” Glancing at the compass on the control panel, he turned the plane towards the east.

A Half Hour Later
Downtown Riversidle

Rebecca and Molly stepped out of the grocery store and headed towards their car, which was parked a block away. Humming to herself and to Lucy, whom she cradled, Molly skipped along the sidewalk, happy that she had persuaded her mother into buying not one, but two cartons of Frosty Pep ice cream. However, Rebecca wasn’t as happy as her daughter, for she was wrestling with two heavy sacks containing a week’s worth of groceries as well as problems about her as-of-yet nonexistent future business.

Hearing the sound of propellers, Molly stopped in her tracks and looked up to see a yellow seaplane soaring above them. “Lookee, Mom. A plane!” the little girl cried, pointing skywards. She watched it until it disappeared from sight.

Without looking up, Rebecca said absently, “I see it.” She was more concerned about making it to the car without dropping the bags. “Open the door, honey.”

Molly stood on tiptoe and tugged on the handle of the rear door, allowing it to swing open.

As Rebecca slid the sacks into the car’s backseat, she murmured, “I just can’t believe it.”

“That a plane flew over? Hey, there it goes again!” the little girl exclaimed as the orange-trimmed yellow plane circled back.

Rebecca briefly glanced up at the plane, which was now making wide circles over the city as if the pilot were either lost or joyriding.

“Get in the car, Pumpkin.” Rebecca shut the rear car door and got behind the wheel. More to herself than to her daughter, she said despairingly, “In the whole city of Riversidle, there isn’t one, single failing business, and I called every bank and used every connection that I could think of.”

Molly, who was pressing Lucy to the window so that the doll could watch the plane with her, suggested, “Well...what if you tried another city?”

Rebecca’s eyes lit up. “Molly, you’re a genius!”

“Nuh-huh, I’m a bear.”

Rebecca chuckled as she started the car.

A Month Later
Pirate Island

“Come on. Hurry it up, already!” Mad Dog whined.

“Go faster, you little creepy-crawly,” Dumptruck cheered.

Smugly, Hal said, “Mine is gonna beat the socks off yours, Mad Dog.”

Mad Dog retorted, “Is not.”

“Is, too.”

“Is not, not, not!”

“Is, too, too, too!”

Kit, surrounded by cheering men, was sitting on a rock in Pirate Island’s main cavern. He stifled a yawn. The cockroach races never ceased to excite his fellow pirates, but to the eleven-year-old, they had long ago lost their luster.

When one of the cockroaches hopped across the line scratched in the dirt, Mad Dog crowed, “Ha! Mine won! Mine won!”

Hal growled, “It doesn’t count. The fly fell off.”

”You wanna make a big deal of it, big mouth?”

“Yeah, bean pole!”

“Who you callin’ bean pole, fatty?” Mad Dog cried. He punched Hal as hard as he could in the stomach, but the husky feline didn’t move an inch.

Hal laughed scornfully. “Is that the best you can do?” In retaliation, he gave Mad Dog a rough shove, causing him to backpedal until he slammed against the wall and slumped to the floor.

“Ow!” Mad Dog whined, dizzily getting up. He glared at Dumptruck. “Don’t just stand there, dum-dum. Are you going to let him treat me like that?”

“Er...no, Mad Dog.” Dumptruck bodily picked Hal up and sent him flying across the room.

Kit ducked, but the pirates standing behind him didn’t. They crashed to the floor like bowling pins.

The boy knew that that was his cue to leave. The last time he’d been caught in a pirate brawl, he’d woken up two days later with a black eye and broken ribs. Of course, that time he had been caught unawares. This time he knew to heed the warning signs.

He dodged between kicking legs and ducked around flying fists until he reached the cavern’s doorway. Glancing back at the thick cloud of dust that now enshrouded the melee, he could hear punches, cries of pain, and angry oaths. He knew that the fight was just a way for the dim-witted pirates to break up the monotony of the past few days.

Entertainment was scarce between raids and pillages. Besides eating, sleeping, and a few assigned chores, there just wasn’t that much to do. Furthermore, they really didn’t have anything to look forward to, because they never knew when the next heist would be. Karnage always kept his plans strictly hush-hush.

A very bored Kit wandered through the warm, dusty passageways, mechanically avoiding booby-traps and kicking at loose pebbles.

He paused outside Karnage’s room. At that moment, he would have loved to have an intelligent conversation with someone. Someone with an I.Q. bigger than the cockroaches they raced.

Kit tentatively knocked on the door.

From inside the room, Karnage’s voice came floating out. “If you brought a present, come in.”

When Kit opened the door, a big smile crossed the captain’s rugged wolfish features. “Ah, my puny protege. You are just in time to help me with a persistent problem that has been bothering me for a long time.”

Kit was so flattered that he forgot that he was supposed to be a rough, tough burly pirate. He squeaked, “Me?”

“Do you see any other proteges here?” Karnage asked, tapping his foot impatiently.

“Nope,” the boy replied, his habitual tough-guy attitude returning. He swaggered into the room. “I’m the one and only.”

Kit was glad to be needed by someone. His eyes lit up when he noticed several charts spread out upon the table. It had been a long time since he had used the navigational skills that he had acquired during his hobo days. However, he tried not to sound too eager when he asked, “What’s the problem?”

“Which of these is more worthy of my greatness?”

“Huh? Oh...” Disappointed, Kit focused his attention on the black and brown sheaths that Karnage was holding. Both were identical except for color. He hesitantly pointed to the black one.

“You know, that one is my especial favorite, too.” He slapped Kit on the back so hard that the boy stumbled forward. Then he strapped the sheath around his waist, plunged his sword into it, and turned to the full-length mirror to admire himself. “For havingexcellemundo taste like me, you should be rewarded.” He picked up a red handkerchief from the top of his dresser and knotted it around Kit’s neck. “There. Ah-ha!” He led the boy to the mirror. “Did you ever see anything so handsome, meaning my wonderful self, that is?”

Kit silently shook his head and tried not to gasp aloud. The scarf was a little too tight.

After a few minutes of posturing, Karnage said, “Are you still there? Was there anything you wanted?”

“Naw...I just had a question.”

“Speak up. I always listen sometimes.”

“Do...do you ever get tired of...” He wanted to say ‘being a pirate’. Instead, he said, “Being the handsomest pirate in the world?”

Karnage laughed. “Of course not! What a silly-willy thing to say. Now, go. Run away and find some other thing to do. I am most busy here. Mirror, mirror on the wall. Who is the handsomest pirate of them all?”

Kit slipped out, leaving Karnage posing in front of the mirror.

Once again, Kit wandered restlessly through the passageways that connected the caverns, wondering what to do next. He came at last to the interior cove where the Iron Vulturewas docked. He picked up a few stones and made them skip across the still, dark water. Between splashes, he could hear a faint pinging, as of a hammer. He surmised that Rachet was doing some repairs.

Kit dropped the rest of the pebbles and jogged towards the open beak. For a pirate, Ratchet was fairly easygoing and he had even let Kit help him with airplane repairs before.

“Ratchet?” Kit’s voice echoed throughout the hangar.

No reply met his ears except the faint, far-away sound of hammering.

He was about to turn away when he noticed the CT-37s tantalizingly lined up against the walls of the hangar. After a quick glance around to make sure he truly was alone, he climbed into the cockpit of the plane nearest the door.

He had begged Karnage repeatedly to teach him to fly, but the captain’s reply was always the same: “I’m not letting a juvenile delinkidy-wink fly.”

But that didn’t deter Kit. It had been his lifelong dream to be a pilot. Flying was constantly on his mind. He ate it, slept it, and thought about it every ten seconds, at least.

Kit’s hands trembled with excitement as he gripped the control yoke and ran his eager eyes over the control panel.

He knew without a shadow of a doubt that he could pilot this plane. After all, he had read about it and had seen it done a million times. And if those stupid pirates could fly, so could he.

No one was around, therefore no one would know if he just started it up.

With a determined expression on his face, he pulled the

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