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Thanks to all my friends in the TaleSpin community who helped me through the rough patches of this, my first attempt at writing a holiday story - ever.  Sufficeth to say that I now have an appreciation for why not all holiday episodes of regular series are, well, stellar.  It ain't easy.  I hope you enjoy this one.

I wanted to write a Thanksgiving story because, like Rebecca, I consider Thanksgiving to be the best holiday of all.  It knows no race, religion or cultural bias - it is truly the American holiday, and it's unencumbered by the massive commercialization of the holidays that bracket it on the calendar.  I also like what it stands for -family, togetherness and stepping back and appreciating what you've got, instead of worrying about what you don't.  Not to mention food and football.  I think it was Uncle Moe's favorite holiday too.

This story tales place immediately following the conclusion of "The Family Business".  The time is Mid-November, the place is Cape Suzette, somewhere in the South Pacific.....
 
 
 
 

Kit Cloudkicker whistled softly as he walked home form school.  It was Friday, the weekend was coming, and the weather bore just a hint of autumn chill.  Kit loved it when it was cool in Cape Suzette - his days of living in drafty orphanages and frigid streets of much colder climes had insulated him from even the worst that Cape Suzette could throw at him..  Best of all, the boy loved the feeling that when he walked through the door at home, he would be greeted by the faces of people he loved.  That was something he would never grow tired of.

"Hi, Miz Cunningham!" Kit said cheerily as he walked up the path to Higher for Hire, school books and trumpet case in hand.  After coming so close to losing her, every time he saw Rebecca now was a joy for the cub.

"Hi Sweetie." Rebecca Cunningham smiled at the boy.  She was busily nailing a 'Horn o' Plenty' to the front door of the building.  "How was school today?"

"Great." he grinned.  "Gettin' ready for Thanksgivin' huh?"

"You bet.  I've always loved Thanksgiving, Kit - it's my favorite holiday.  There's just that hint of a chill in the air - well, not so much around here - and everyone celebrates it, no one is left out. I have a lot of great memories from Thanksgivings at home."

"Not to mention all that food!" the boy laughed.  "The way your Mom cooks I'll bet she really delivered some knockouts, huh?"  The memory of Kayla Cunningham's legendary cuisine was still fresh in the cub's mind.

"You don't know the half!" she chuckled.  She stood back, next to Kit, observing her handiwork, and grinned.  She kissed the cub on the cheek merrily and went inside.  There was an easy familiarity between them now, a new understanding - Rebecca had finally confronted the internal barrier she'd raised, and realized that she was emotionally committed to the boy now, like it or not.  Kit didn't mind a bit.

"Uh, Becky, thanks again for takin' me to the symphony." Kit said, setting his book bag down on the table.  "I really had fun, and the music was a lot better than I expected!"

"Don't let Baloo hear you saying that!" she laughed.  "I'm glad you liked it.  Classical music has meant a lot to me, Kit.  I just want to share that with you."

"Baloo's not back from his delivery?" Kit asked, poking around in the icebox.

"No - I think he must have stopped at Louie's again - for 'refueling" of course."

Kit giggled, biting into a chicken leg.  "Cut him some slack, Miz Cunningham!  He's gotta refuel somewhere.  Besides, we're goin' to Louie's tonight for that mambo party anyway, so Baloo wouldn't go there on his way home.  I'm gonna head upstairs and practice for a while, OK?"

"OK." she grinned.  The boy's playing was really getting better, she'd noticed lately.  "You're really enjoying the trumpet , aren't you?"

He smiled and picked up his case.  "Yeah - after this semester we're through with instrumental music, but I think I'll keep it up.  I really like it!  I think I'm gonna try playing some of those classical pieces today , but boy, they're really tough!  See ya in a while." he said, starting up the stairs.

"Terrific!" she beamed.  "Good luck."  She sat at her desk and began to go over some of the sales figures, as the sound of Kit's efforts at "Sonata Pathtique" wafted down the stairs.  Not that bad, really....  She returned her attention to the numbers.  They'd lost two accounts in the last week, but there was no point in worrying the boys about it.  They were still doing all right.  After a few moments the Sea Duck rumbled in for a landing outside.

"You're late!" Rebecca said accusingly to Baloo, as the pilot shuffled through the door a moment later.  "Let me guess - sea cucumbers attacked you?  Fresh fruit bandits?"

"Very funny Beckers." Baloo muttered.  "Since you asked - I got caught up in customs in Waltonia."  The pilot collapsed into his chair with a weary sigh.

She frowned.  "Customs?  What the - why?  We've delivered there a dozen times with no problems at all!  What've you done, Baloo?" she said accusingly.

"Hey, Miz Manager - I don't do nuthin' 'cept deliver my cargo, like always.  They wouldn't tell me why they was holdin' me up." the grey bear grumbled.  "Mebbe some kinda government crackdown or somethin'.  Kit upstairs?"

"Can't you tell?"

Baloo listened.  "Guess yer right.  That don't sound like no kinda jazz I ever heard.  Kit ain't great but he ain't that bad.  What is it?"

Rebecca cocked her head.  Kit had moved on to a new piece of music.  "Well,  if I had money on it....I'd say it was Trycoughsky - but I'm not exactly sure."

Baloo shook his head.  "I knew you'd have that kid's head all turned around first chance you got!  Just when he was gettin' good you screw 'im up with that stuffed-shirt music o' yours....."

"All right Baloo, that's enough.." Rebecca muttered with a rueful smile, gathering her papers and filling her briefcase.  "Let him play what he wants to play.  You boys have fun at your little party.  See you tomorrow.  And try not to get arrested in any other countries, will you?"

"Ha ha.  Yer a reg'lar comedian.  Pretty weird about those customs guys if you ask me...."

Rebecca walked over to the foot of the stairs.  "Bye, Kit!" she shouted over the music.  The playing stopped.

"Bye Becky!" the boy's voice shouted down.

"Kit - Baloo says to play louder, he can't hear you down here.  See you tomorrow!"  With a mischievous grin at the pilot she strolled out the door and was gone.  Kit resumed playing, much louder than before.

"Wish that gal' would take 'er act on the road." Baloo grumbled, slinking lower in his chair.
 
 

"Here it is, you lunkheads!" the diminutive alligator known as Trader Moe said to the two hulking figures in matching blue suits who stood in front of his desk.  "I ain't never gonna have to work another day in my life after I sell this little beauty!"

"Yeah, it's real pretty, Boss!" the rhinoceros hulk said in a low grumble.

"Yah, boss, real pretty!" the ape hulk said in a delicate honk.

"Uh boss?" the rhino goon began.

"Yeah?  What?" Trader Moe snarled.

"What is it?" Rhino Goon asked.

"Yah, boss - is?  Uh huh!" Ape Goon echoed.

The alligator held up a small, ancient looking piece of clay pottery, intricately decorated.  "You peach pits!  Didn't ya go to school?  This is the sacred gravy boat - from the first Thanksgiving!  Ever'body knows dat!" Moe growled.

"I didn't go to school, boss." Rhino Goon said sadly.  "I saw a pitcher of one once though."

"Yah, a real pretty one!" Ape Goon enthused.  "A whole bunch of fishes!"

Moe put his head in his hands sadly.  "I gotta get me some new goons!"

"So Boss, what's so special about that gravy boat huh?" Rhino Goon asked.

"Yah, special."

"If you hosebags'll shut up I'll tell ya!  It was used in the first Thanksgivin', 317 years ago!  The local tribe gave it to the pilgrims as a gift - every black market antique dealer in the world'll pay a fortune for dis little gem!"

"A fortune!" Rhino goon enthused.

"Yah, lot o' money!"

"But boss - aren't they gonna look fer it?  I mean, you did steal it right?"

"Yah, didn't pay?"

"You spongeheads!  Of COURSE I stole it!  But I was smart - I paid somebody to steal it for me." Trader Moe replied.  "An' not only that, I had the guy that stole it fer me paint his seaplane yellow and orange, just like that fat pilot's plane!  Who else paints his plane yellow and orange?  Every cop and customs officer in the world is gonna be lookin' out fer that airplane!  That fat furry pilot ain't gonna screw up another one of my deals - he's gonna be too busy explaining himself to every cop in every port he flies into!"

"Pretty smart Boss!" Rhino Goon said admiringly.

"Yah, not dumb!"

"Of course it's smart - _I'm_ smart!  Not get outta here, you hatracks, I got phone calls ta make."
 
 

Baloo eased the yellow seaplane down alongside Louie's floating pier and chuckled.  "Hehe!  Ol' Louie's gonna flip when he sees us stroll in there in these shirts!"  The pilot and his son were dressed in identical floral print shirts, although the boy still wore his traditional red and blue baseball cap.

Kit giggled.  "Yeah - but it sure was nice of him to get 'em for us."

"Yeah, Louie 'n I have been pals fer a long time, L'il Britches.  No way he was gonna let somethin' like me adoptin' you go by without a gift or two.  He even let me take over the club fer free that night - no charge.  Yep, he's a real pal."

They hopped out onto the pier and started up towards the club.  Rollicking Latin music was already drifting out into the night.  Kit stopped for a moment and stared up at the building with a small smile, the flickering light of the tiki torches playing off of his face in the dusk.  "Whassa matter, Britches?" Baloo asked with a puzzled grin.

Kit shook his head.  "It's nothin', Papa Bear.  I was just thinkin', y'know, this place means a lot to me.  This is where we met each other.  It's where I found out - found out you were my Father, for real.....  Sorry!" the cub shook his head again.

Baloo chuckled and wrapped an arm tightly around the boy's shoulder.  "That's Ok, Kiddo, I understand..."

Kit snuggled against the big bear.  "I dunno what it is, maybe the time of year, or all the stuff goin' on lately, with Becky, and my Mom, and...everything else...but I keep gettin' real - I dunno!" the boy said sheepishly.  "You were always there, through all of it.  I think I could take anything - lose anything - as long as I knew you were gonna be there when it was over.  You're always there for me.  Thanks, Papa Bear!"

"S'okay, Kit!" the pilot said with a warm grin, tousling the boy's hair gently.  "Always will be, too.  C'mon, let's party!"

They opened the bamboo and straw doors and stepped into the club, as ever a symphony of color, noise and excitement.  An eight piece band was on stage, playing a rousing Latin number, and the floor was beginning to fill with dancing patrons.  Simian waiters brachaited across the bar by the rafters, delivering food and drink to the outlying tables.

As the bear and cub approached the bar, a frazzled Louie, who was making three drinks simultaneously, looked over and laughed uproariously.  "Ho baby!  Hey, Cuz - pretty snazzy stylin'!  Who's yer tailor?"

"You know who, Louie!" Baloo laughed, slapping the ape's hand and sitting at the bar.  "Only one hep cat I know who wears 'em like this."

"You know that, Big Daddy!  It's like I'm lookin' in a mirror - a really fat one!"  The orangutan looked down at Kit.  "Or a really short one!  How's it goin' Small-fry?"

"Great Louie, never better!" Kit grinned, climbing onto a stool.  "Thanks for the neat threads, pal!"

The ape laughed.  "I'm re-thinkin' it L'il Cuz - I dunno if I want folks to go 'round sayin' I dress like Baloo!  Say, man, gonna be a great party tonight!  You boys sure picked the night to come see ol' Louie!"

Baloo laughed.  "You know I ain't missed yer annual mambo festival fer eight years, Louie!  And this is Kit's first one ever.  Wouldn't be anywheres else.  Howz about rustling us up some grub to start the night off right?"

"You got it Cuz!  I just got my pantry re-stocked today, so if you leave by five A.M., Baloo, I might just make it through the night!  Burger and fries?"

"You got it pal!  And a Tahitialoan passion-fruit frappe.  Kid?"

The boy scratched his chin thoughtfully.  "Wellll....Triple mango shake - and why change a good thing?  Pepperoni pizza.  Y'know, put anchovies on it too!"

"What?!" Baloo and Louie exclaimed simultaneously.

The boy laughed.  "Just kiddin'!  Do I _look_ like I fell on my head today?  Pepperoni pizza sounds great, Louie."

"Scared me there, Kiddo!" Baloo muttered.

"Comin' right up boys!" Louie laughed.  "On the house!  New policy - anybody dressed like me gets the first round o' food an' drinks fer free on mambo night.  IF they happen to be my two favoritest customers!  Be right back.  Ba-dabba-dabba-doobie-shoobie-bada-bada..." the ape sang as he dexterously leaped off to begin preparing the drinks.

A fox in a tan suit and fedora hat sidled up to the bar and sat next to Baloo and Kit.  "Howdy!" he said with a friendly smile.  "Some party, huh?"

Baloo chuckled at the fellow.  "Stranger, you ain't seem nuthin'!  Give 'er a few hours and she'll start ta warm up.  Name's Baloo, by the way."

"Frank.  Frank Grimspaw." the fox smiled, shaking the pilot's hand.  He grinned at Kit.  "You together, or just have the same taste?"

"Kit Cloudkicker!" the cub grinned, grasping the fox's hand.

"My navigator, walkin' aviation encyclopedia, A-1 student pilot and - my son!" Baloo said proudly, arm around the boy's shoulder.  "An' a finer one a bear couldn't hope for!"  Kit blushed furiously at the big grey bear's praise.

The fox looked at Kit in surprise.  "Student pilot - huh!  Pretty impressive, for a boy your age.  That your Conwing L-16 outside?"

"That's my baby!" Baloo said proudly.  "Customized her myself - Superflight 100s, Googlschohcer Gyrocompass..."

"Hot stuff and cool juice right here, Cuz!" Louie interjected, sliding a pizza, burger an fries and two delicious looking fruit concoctions on the counter.  "Hey, fella, what can I get for ya?" he asked the fox.

"Oh boy!" Kit said delightedly, digging into his pizza.

Grimspaw looked at Baloo's gut approvingly.  "Hmmm.  First time here -what you recommend, Baloo?"

"Hehe.  Noticed that I know my way around a kitchen, huh?  Everythin' the ape cooks up is great - but the Krakatoa special is what they come here from Thembria to Tortuga fer.  Most dee-bangalicious ice cream concoction this side o' the other side!"

"Sounds good." the fox said.

"Comin' right up foxman!  Be-dop-bop-bop...." Louie sang, gleeful as ever to have a chance to whip up his signature creation.

Baloo took a furious bite out of his burger.  "So -what brings ya to Louie's, friend?" Baloo asked with a spray of burger, bun and condiments.

"I followed you here." the fox said with a small smile.

"Huh?" Baloo and Kit said simultaneously around a mouthful of their dinner.

The fox reached into his jacket and pulled out a badge, which he discreetly showed Baloo.  "I'm with the F.I.B.  I don't want to interrupt your dinner, but I'm going to need you to step outside to your plane for a few minutes."

"F.I.B.? Baloo said in disbelief.  "What the heck you guys want with us?"

"If you'll just step out to the plane we can discuss it." Grimspaw said, standing.

"Stay here, Kit - no point in both our dinners gettin' cold!" Baloo said grimly, starting towards the door.

"No way Papa Bear!" Kit protested, following him.  He stopped, reached back and grabbed a slice of pizza, and followed the bear and fox out the door.

Within a moment they stood outside the Sea Duck's cockpit.  "Now, friend." Baloo said bitterly.  "You mind tellin' me why you interrupted a perfectly good burger to drag me out here?"

Grimspaw took out a notebook and began writing in it.  He logged the serial numbers off the tail and poked his head into the cockpit.  "Hate to be a bother to you and your son, Mr. Baloo.  You seem like a nice guy.  But there's been a report of a yellow and orange seaplane used in a serious crime, and you have to admit that's not exactly a common color scheme."

"I love that paint job!" the pilot protested.

"It's cheery." the fox said in a droll voice, still making notes.  "Can you tell me where you where on the night of the 18th?"

Baloo scratched his head.  "18th?  Wednesday..Kid?" he asked the boy.

Kit responded immediately.  "We had a late drop in San Pelicano. And then we were at Higher for Hire." he scowled.

"Yeah - San Pelicano, that's it.  Bowling balls, right L'il Britches?" Kit nodded.

"Interesting.  San Pelicano, eh?  Is that a fact." Grimspaw said with a small smile.

"Listen pal!" Kit fumed.  "Before you go callin' Papa Bear a liar, let me remind you that we filed flight plans for that drop!  I'm the navigator and I prepare and file all of our flight plans!  According to regulations!"

"Easy, kid!" the fox chuckled.  "I'm not callin' anybody a liar.  I'm just doin' my job.  I can make a few phone calls and check some things out.  I need to ask you not to leave Louie's for a little while.  Just enjoy the party in the meantime."  The fox headed for the pay phone.

"Why that little..." Baloo fumed, heading for the door.  "Enjoy the party!  Just fer that I'm eatin' his Krakatoa Special!"

Kit followed close behind.  "Say, Baloo - think that's why you got held up in Waltonia?"

Baloo scratched his chin.  "Must be, Kiddo!  Dang!  We're gonna be lookin' at this kinda treatment ever'where from now on until they catch whoever did - whatever we was supposed to have did."

They took their seats at the bar.  "Wonder what this big crime was." Kit mused, picking up a slice of pizza.  A little cold, now, but even so Louie's pizza was still the best in the South Pacific.

Baloo wolfed down his burger and started on the fox's ice cream sundae.  "Dunno, kid - but I'm danged if I'm gonna let it spoil my fun.  We came here ta party and that's what I'm gonna do!  Finish that pizza and let's hit the dance floor!"

"Dance?!" Kit squeaked.  You didn't say anything about dancing!"

Baloo chuckled.  "Well, jeez, L'il Britches - whadya think folks did at a mambo festival - crossword puzzles?  If yer gonna be _my_ kid, Kid, ya gotta know how ta shake yer tail on a dance floor!  Don't worry, ol' Baloo kin show ya how, it's easy!"  He finished the sundae and loudly clanked the spoon into the glass.

Grimspaw sidled us to the bar and glanced at the glass with a small grin.  "Your story checks out so far, guys.  No hard feelings, huh?  You're free to leave whenever you want to - but we'll be keeping our eyes open."

"Yeah, you do that!" Kit muttered.

Baloo stood.  By now the club was a frenzy of music and movement - the fiesta was in full swing.  "Never mind him, kid." he said with a dismissive nod at the fox.  "It's mambo time!"  He grabbed the reluctant cub and pulled him onto the dance floor.

Grimspaw stared at Baloo's departing back for a moment.  "Say, barkeep!" he called to Louie.  "That first Krakatoa Special was so good I barely tasted it.  Gimmee another one."
 
 

"Yeah, yeah, get ta brass tacks!" Trader Moe growled into the phone.  "How much?"  He listened for a moment.  "Ninety thousand?  Youse gotta be crazy!  Do youse know how much this thing is worth?  It's tree hunnerd years old fer cripes sake!  One hunnerd percent authentic!"
He tapped the desk for a moment anxiously.  "Of course there's no certificate of authenticity you maroon!  It's stolen!  Dat's why dey call it da black market!  OK, OK.......One hunnerd thousand?  Cash?  Yeah, lemme think about it."

He hung up the phone.  "Get in here!" he yelled at  the top of his lungs.

The two goons rushed into the office.  "Hiya boss!" Rhino Goon said with a grin.

"Yah, hiya!" Ape Goon echoed.

"Never mind dat!" Moe scowled.  "Youse guys go get me somethin' to eat - I'm starvin'!"

"Where should we go, boss?" Rhino Goon asked with a puzzled frown.

"Yah, where for food?" Ape Goon added helpfully.

"You peach pits!  I don't care if you gotta get in da plane and fly me a pizza!  Get out o' here and bring me some food!!"  The two hulking brutes scurried (a sight in itself) out of the office and into the hall.

"Da Boss sounds mad!" Rhino Goon said, worried.

"Yah, angry!" Ape Goon added.

"We better do what he says!"

"Yah, what he says.  He said fly and get pizza!  Where do we fly to get pizza?"

Rhino Goon scratched his chin thoughtfully.  "I know!  We fly to Louie's to get pizza!"

"Yah, pizza at Louie's!"

"We better hurry." Rhino Goon said, checking his watch.  "Lessee, big hand on nine...."

"Little hand on zero." Ape Goon interjected.

"No - seven!"

"Oh yeah seven!"

"So dat mean's we got fifteen minutes until-"

Moe stuck his head out the door.  "Will you goons SHUT UP an go already before I starve to death?!" He bellowed.

"Oh yeah. we go now boss!" Rhino Goon said.  "Sorry, boss!"

"Yah, real sorry!"  Ape Goon added.  The two scampered into the elevator and were gone, leaving the tiny alligator shaking his head in frustration.
 
 

"Slow down, L'il Britches!" Baloo huffed, grabbing onto a table for support.  "I thought you was the one who didn't even wanna mambo!"

The boy tossed his cap into the air and followed the line of dancers.  "Get with it Papa Bear!  This is a blast!" he shouted, gleefully mixing with the throng of revelers.

"Gettin' too old fer this." the pilot panted, trudging over to the bar and taking a seat.  "Gimmee somethin' to drink, Louie - anythin' cold!"

"Sure thing Cuz!" the orangutan chuckled.  "Looks like Kit's takin' this party thing pretty serious!"

"Limbo!" the bandleader called, from the stage.

"Papa Bear, c'mon!  Limbo!" Kit called excitedly, waving at Baloo.

"You kiddin', Kid?  I ain't limber enough fer no limbo!" Baloo shouted back.  He shook his head.  "Limbo!  I think I unleashed a monster here, Louie."

The ape slipped a tall glass of fruit juice in front of the bear.  "Hehe.  Must be the threads, Big Daddy!"
 

Out on the dance floor, the band paused for a break, and everyone applauded.  Kit clapped along with the rest, and turned to look for Baloo, feeling a little winded at last.  "Hello!" A voice said from be hind him.

He spun and saw a striking young lioness, who looked to be in her late teens, cheekily grinning at him.  She wore a festive floral dress and her golden brown hair fell almost to her waist.  Uh...hello!" the cub said nervously.

"You're some dancer!" she smiled.  "I've been coming to Louie's parties for a while but I think you're about the youngest I've ever seen.  How old are you?"

"Fifteen." the cub lied.

She grinned at that and nodded slowly.  "Fifteen, huh?  I'm Lizzie.  What's your name, Honey?"

"Uh, K-K-Kit.  Kit Cloudkicker." he stammered.

"Hello, Kit.  Don't worry, I won't hurt you!   You look terrified!" she laughed.

"Sorry!" he said too loudly.

She laughed again.  "Don't worry, Cutie-pie, it's just that it's a friendly crowd at Louie's parties, that's all.  You here on your own?"

"Uh, n-no." Kit mumbled.  "I'm here with my Father, actually."

She shook her head, laughing.  "Well, is that a fact?  You're quite the dancer.  Very - enthusiastic.  Maybe I'll see you out there later."

"Sure!" he grinned.

"I have something for you." she said demurely.

"Uh....." the boy started, not sure what to say.  "Thanks!  What is it?"

"Your hat!" she said with a wide grin, whipping Kit's cap out from behind her back.  She gently reached over and set it on his head, then turned it backwards.  "I think that's the way you like to wear it, right Sweetie?"

"Uh - yeah!" he said, for lack of anything better.  The band started playing again, and the lioness brushed him lightly on the cheek, smiled and headed out to mix with the dancing hordes.  Kit, finding that he was no longer tired, turned to join them as well.
 

"You see that, Louie?" Baloo said in surprise, as he watched the young lioness set Kit's cap on his head.

"Hehe!  Shore did, Cuz!  Real friendly crowd, huh?  Must be da threads, Man!"

Baloo watched the lioness brush Kit's cheek and walk away.  "Why, that - what's that gal think she's doin'?  My boy's only thirteen years old!"

Louie laughed and clapped him on the back.  "Don't take it so serious, Fuzzy!  Kit's just havin' a little fun, that's all!  It's a party, baby!"

Baloo grumbled to himself as he downed his fruit juice.  The door to the club opened and an ape and rhinoceros in matching blue suits stormed up to the bar.  "Gimmee da large pizza - da Boss is hungry!" the rhinoceros said loudly.

"Yah - wants ta eat!" the ape echoed.

"Say, don't I know you fellas?" Baloo interrupted.

"Know us?" the rhino asked

"Yah, us?"

"Yeah, you!  I know!  Yer those two goons as works fer Trader Moe, aintcha!"

"Yeah, goons." said the rhino, grinning.

"Trader Moe!" the ape added.

Baloo chuckled.  Not a full pack o' cards in these decks...."What you boys doin' all the way out here at this hour?"

"Da Boss is real hungry, he's workin' on a big job!" the rhino said proudly.

"Yah, large!"

"Sellin' somethin'."

"Yah, not nuthin'!"

"Sellin' what?" Baloo asked suspiciously.

The goons looked at each other.  "I think it's a secret." the rhino said dubiously.

"Yah, can't tell." the ape added.

"But it's real old"

"Yah, not young."

"And worth a ton of money!"

"Yah, bucks!"

"And they learn about it in school."

"Yah, in school!"

Louie brachiated over to where they stood.  "Here ya go, tall dark and uglies.  Here's dat pizza you ordered.  That'll be four bucks!"

The Rhino handed Louie some bills.  "Four buck's - dat's nuthin'!" he said proudly.

"Yah, less than somethin'!" the ape beamed.

"Yeah - da Boss is gonna make a fortune!"

"Yah - lots o' money!"

The rhino opened the box.  "Hey - dere's no anchovies on dis pizza!"

"Yah - none!" the ape added, peering over his shoulder.

"Sorry boys!" Louie said, shaking his head.  "Ol' Louie don't do dat anchovy deal no more, baby. I don't mess with them little fishes, they's bad news, man!  Didn't charge yez for 'em."

"Da Boss likes anchovies!" the rhino said, shaking his head.

"Yah -doesn't hate!"

"He ain't gonna like dis!"

"Nuh-uh!"  The two goons walked towards the door and turned as one.  "Wait'll we tell 'im what YOU did!" they said accusingly, and left.

Kit collapsed onto the stool next to Baloo, breathing heavily from yet another dance.  "Say, wasn't that-"

"Yup!" Baloo said nodding.  "Trader Moe's two stupids.  Man, when they was handing out dumb they musta stood in line twice."  He turned and looked sternly down at the boy.  "Now then, young man-"

"Young man?" Kit said, raising an eyebrow.

"You know what I mean!  Just what was you doin' out there on the dance floor?  What did I tell you about talkin' to strangers?"

"Aw, Baloo!" the cub said, shaking his head.
 
 

Trader Moe glanced at his watch, shaking his head.  Where were those dishpans?  Couldn't they even do a simple thing like get him a pizza?  His stomach growled.  Finally, the office door opened and the goons walked in carrying the pie  "About time!  What'd ya do - go to Pazooza fer the thing?"

"No - Louie's!" Rhino Goon said proudly.

"Yah, Louie's!"

"What'd you banana peels go all way dere for?  I coulda made the dang pizza myself by now!"  He opened the box.  "Hey!  Where's my anchovies?" he yelled.

"Uh - Louie didn't have no anchovies, boss.  We're real sorry!"

"Yah, real sorry!"

The alligator buried his face in his hands.  "I gotta get me some new - aw, never mind!"
 
 

Baloo yawned and looked at his watch.  Three A.M.  The place was beginning to empty.  Kit , exhausted, had collapsed on one of the tables.  Louie lounged behind the bar, reading a newspaper.  "Some night, huh Pal?" Baloo said to the ape.

"You said it, Cuz!" Louie replied.  "Made a bushel a shaboozies, but man, I'm beat!  I'm glad these mambo parties is only once a year, man."

"Me too." Baloo said, chuckling.  "I dunno if Kit could take 'em more often than that. What's in the ol' Gazette?"

"Same old - trouble in Eporue, Khan made another billion.  An' everybody's all riled up about some old artifact as got ripped off - from the original Thanksgivin', in the Usland Colonies.  Worth a bundle o' bucks, Cuz!"

"Is that a fact." Baloo said with a yawn.  "Think we'll mosey on back home, pardner.  I ain't got much more life in me than Kit.  Thanks fer the free food, Louie ol' pal."

"No prob, Cuz!" the ape said, without looking up.  "Keep wearin' those shirts and you'll drive the gal's wild, Baloo!"

Baloo scooped Kit up in his arms and started for the door.  "C'mon, Mr. Party animal - time to get you to bed!"

The boy stirred slightly.  "No, it's OK, I can walk." he mumbled, nuzzling his head into Baloo's shoulder and beginning to snore gently.  The big bear grinned and headed for the Sea Duck.
 

The sun began streaming through the front windows at Higher for Hire as the autumn day dawned crisp, clear and cool.  Baloo had already opened the shades and windows to let the day in, and sat with a yawn, pouring himself a cup of coffee and starting in on a bowl of cereal.

Kit appeared at the top of the stairs a few moments later, and slowly walked down and into the kitchen with only an embarrassed nod at Baloo.  "Mornin' L'il Britches." the pilot said, stifling a grin.

"Uh, morning." the cub mumbled.  He poured himself a bowl of cereal and milk and sat at the table.  He took a few gulps and said nothing, staring wordlessly down at his bowl.

"Coffee?" Baloo asked amiably.

"Thanks." Kit nodded, and the big bear grabbed a mug and poured out a second cup of the steaming beverage for the cub.  Kit spooned some of his milk from the cereal bowl into it, took a long sip, and sat back in his chair.  "So Papa Bear....how big a fool did I make o' myself last night?"

Baloo could stifle his merriment no longer.  He let a out a long laugh and slapped Kit on the shoulder.  "Ye did yer ol' man proud, Kiddo!"

Kit groaned and lowered his face to the table.  "My gosh - that bad!  I can't believe it...."

"Aw, Kid - you was just havin' fun, is all.  You always spend so much time worryin' about everythin'.  So fer one night ya acted like a kid.  Big deal!  Ya had fun, right?"  The boy nodded.

"Ya liked the dancin', didn't ya?"

"Sure." Kit replied

"An I _know_ ya liked it when that girl was talkin' to ya, right?"

Kit blushed.  "Uh......yeah, I guess so.  Well - I know so.  I liked that part a lot, actually."

"So no big deal!  Ya let loose and had a little fun at Louie's.  We're gonna have lots o' parties at Louie's, L'il Britches.  After ya been to a few of 'em ya won't be quite so bombastic about it.  Okay?"

"Okay." the boy grinned.  "It _was_ a lot of fun, I have to admit!  I never though I'd like dancin' so much...."

Rebecca walked through the door, Molly in tow.  "Happy Saturday, everyone!" she said cheerfully.  "Hope you boys didn't have too much fun last night!"

"Aw, I was havin' a great time but ol' Kit here kept bringin' me down to earth all night!" Baloo replied with a wink at the cub.

"Hi Baloo!" Molly said, jumping onto Baloo's lap and planting a kiss on his forehead.  "Hi Big Brother!" she said, waving to Kit.

Kit arched an eyebrow at that.  "Hi - Little Sister." he said to the yellow cub.  "What've you guys got planned for today?"

"Molly and I are going to work a half day here, and then go shopping.  You boys just have the one shipment to Fanta Se, right?"

"Unless yer hidin' delivery orders, Beckers." Baloo replied, tossing Molly into the air and catching her.  "Say, Kiddo - we just got the ten crates fer that delivery - we can fit 'em in the Blue Eagle, no problem.  Wanna take 'er out fer a spin, L'il Britches?"

"Roger that!" Kit exclaimed, always eager for the chance to test his mettle in his new plane.

Rebecca sat at the table.  "Well, I'm glad you're both here.  I want to invite you to my apartment for Thanksgiving Dinner, and I won't take no for an answer."

"Aw Becky - you don't hafta do that!" Kit protested.

"Nonsense!  I insist - it'll be terrific.  We'll all be together, just as it should be.  Especially since you had to make that emergency delivery of medical supplies to Rexallia last year, and we didn't really get to celebrate."

"Are - are ya gonna cook?" Baloo asked, a hint of trepidation in his voice.

Rebecca laughed.  "No, smart-aleck, I'm not.  I'm having the whole thing catered, if you must know.  You boys come over as early as you like - we eat at two o'clock."

"Gee, thanks Miz Cunningham!" Kit grinned.  He'd more or less been expecting the invitation, but it was still nice to hear it.

"Yeah, real sociable, Beckers - thanks!" Baloo said, playfully pinching her cheek.

She slapped his hand away with a sigh.  "Don't mention it.  We'll have a wonderful time.  And I always have a few surprises planned for Thanksgiving......"
 

Kit strapped into the pilot's seat of the Blue Eagle, feeling that same rush of adrenaline he always felt at the sight of an aircraft's controls spread out before him.  Baloo strapped into the co-pilot's chair and gave Kit a thumbs-up signal.  The boy grinned and started the engines.  "OK - magnetos, on, mix set, throttle up....Pull chocks?"

"Pull chocks!" the big grey bear confirmed with a wink.  The boy reversed the props, backed the blue and gold seaplane away from the dock and into open water.  With a rising growl of engines and a spray of propwash the little plane was airborne.

Slowly the cub banked the seaplane and looped her around towards the cliffs.  "OK Baloo, elevation 120 feet, speed 105 MPH.  Throttle up - whoops!"  The plane was buffeted sideways roughly, pulling the bear and cub against their seat belts.

"Lesson one, Kiddo."  Baloo said as the boy fought the plane under control.  "This is a lightweight plane - small, compact, good on gas and great for long journeys - and easy fer the wind ta catch and toss around like a kite.  You understan' me, L'il Britches?  You gotta always be ready for action in a small plane - no daydreaming - ever.  Okay?"

The cub nodded, wide-eyed, as he headed for the cliffs.  "You bet.  That was a little scary...." The boy pulled back on the stick and gained altitude, passing over a large dirigible.  "Sorry, Baloo."

Baloo chuckled.  "No need ta be sorry Kid - sorry don't help ya much up here anyways!  Just be careful.  That's what lessons are for, so's ya can learn stuff, right?  Well, ya just learned somethin'!"

"Roger, Papa Bear." the boy said, easing the plane through the narrow cliffs and into open sea.  As the horizon opened up he gained altitude and speed, carefully monitoring the controls and occasionally casting a look over at Baloo, who nodded approvingly.  After a few moments they were at 4000 feet and 145 MPH.

"I wouldn't go much above 4000, Kiddo.  The winds are pretty strong as ya get higher than that.  In this little lady I think that's about as high as yer gonna want to go." Baloo said, glancing over Kit's shoulder at the instruments.

"Roger." the boy said, leveling the plane off.  "She cruises real nice, huh?" he said with a grin.

"Sure does, L'il Britches." Baloo said softly, patting Kit on the shoulder.  It wasn't lost on Baloo that this was more than just a plane to his son.  It represented a lot more than that.  Who was _he_ to complain about strong feelings for a plane in any case?  It was one more thing he and the boy had in common, that's all.  The cruised in silence for a few moments, before the big grey bear spoke.  "This was the first plane to use the Ballinger 225 engine, didya know that Kid?"

"Sure." the cub replied.  "Same one they used right up to the L-16."

"Hehe.  Look who I'm talkin' to!" Baloo chuckled.  "Ya already fergot more about airplanes than I ever knew, L'il Britches!"

"Naw." Kit said modestly.  "Maybe.  Sure was nice o' Miz Cunningham to ask us for Thanksgivin', huh Baloo?"

"Yeah - real nice.  She's a good gal', that Beckers.  Head full o' crazy ideas, but she's a good gal."

Kit laughed.  "Funny - that's what she says about you sometimes.  Well, except the girl part."  The boy peered out the window, as they passed over a small palm dotted isle.  "Boy, Baloo - I sure am glad she didn't leave." he said quietly.

Baloo looked over at the cub, and squeezed his shoulder gently.  "Yeah - I know ya are, Kid.  I know - well, I know what she means to ya.  Don't tell 'er, Kid, but I'm glad she didn't leave, too."

Kit grinned.  "I know.  I won't say anything, I promise.  Sometimes, I wonder, I guess - just cause ya fight so much..."

Baloo shook his head.  "Beckers is just stubborn, that's all.  People always get to fightin' anyways, over stuff they really care about."  The pilot scratched his head thoughtfully and stared out the side window.  "Seems like a good spot fer some landin' practice - what say we take this bird down, huh, L'il Britches?"

"Land?  Sure!  But what about the cargo?"

Baloo glanced at his watch.  "We aren't even scheduled to deliver fer three hours, Kid.  Fanta Se is only an hour from here.  We got plenty o' time.  Bring 'er on down, nice an' slow."

Kit eased the stick forward slightly and the plane began to descend.  "Uh, Baloo?" he said sheepishly.

Baloo furrowed his brow in puzzlement.  "Yeah, L'il Britches?  What is it?"

Kit chuckled nervously.  "Um.. Well, I was just wonderin'....ya think it would be okay if I maybe tried a Baloo Corkscrew?"

Baloo slapped his forehead.  "Kid - what'd I tell ya about takin' yer time?  Ya know how long I was a pilot before I started doin' stunts like that?"

"Aw, I know Baloo - but you're right here if anything happens!  An' I never got to try one, before, that time in Thembria." Kit pleaded.

Kit." Baloo said sternly.  "Do I gotta remind you that ya almost wound up with yer nose in a mountain?  Didn't that teach ya nuthin'?"

"Well, I woulda been fine if it wasn't for those Thembrian fighters - they threw me off!" Kit protested.  "I was just gettin' the feel for that Thunder Yak-"

"Sure ya was, Kid." Baloo chuckled.

"Listen!" Kit seethed.  "I- I  wouldnt've even gone to Thembria if you hadn't made that crack about only Thembrians bein' stupid enough to let me fly!  I _can_ fly!  I landed the Sea Duck in Myopia at night-"

"Easy, Kid easy!" Baloo said, hands held out in front of him.  He'd had his run-ins with Kit's pride before, and was getting a sense for how far he could push the boy.  "Yer right, Kiddo - you _can_ fly.  Yer flyin' right now.  And I shouldnt've said that about Thembria, it was mean.  I'm sorry.  But flyin' a steady cruise an' doin' a Baloo Corkscrew is two different things.  Aerobatics is tough, Kid.  It's dangerous.  I was flyin' fer five years before I even started tryin'!  There ain't no point in takin' chances."

Kit calmed down a bit.  "I-I guess.  But I'm always too young, always have to wait...I'm gettin' sick of it!"

"Kid, yer thirteen years old and you got your own plane - and yer flyin' it!  I think most folks in yer position would be pretty happy if ya ask me." Baloo scolded.

Kit was silent for a moment.  He looked down.  "You're right, Papa Bear.  I'm actin' like a stupid kid.  I'm sorry."

Baloo laughed.  "Naw - yer actin' like I did when I was flyin' with Buzz when I was yer age.  You an' me both got flyin' in our blood, Kit.  It's natural you don't wanna wait - patience is somethin' pilots and thirteen year-olds don't have much of.  I'll let you in on somethin', though.  What's yer altitude?"

"3200 feet.  What's that, Baloo?"

Baloo chuckled again.  "Well, Kiddo, there's an awful lot as goes into a Baloo Corkscrew.. It takes a lot o' practice.  But the general idea is ta land at the same exact spot yer flyin' over right when you start.  Ya got me so far?"

"Sure." Kit said, nodding his head thoughtfully.

"Sounds easy.  An' it would be, if you was just gonna fly twelve miles out and then loop back in fer a landin'.  But the better the corkscrew, the closer you stay to this spot.  Yer like a top, spinnin' around, and the tighter the spin the better the pilot.  You got me?"

"Yeah!" Kit said, grinning.  "That makes sense!"

"So here's what ya do, Kid.  We'll keep it nice an' simple.  Giver 'er some port rudder,  just a little.  Ease back the throttle on the port engine.  And stick forward, nice an' gentle."

The cub complied, and the blue and gold seaplane began a loop to port, circling and losing altitude, port wing dipping below horizontal.  "I got it!  This is easy!" he said, easing the throttle back further and turning the stick to port.

"Easy, Kit, don't get cocky!" Baloo admonished.  "There's a lot more to this, Kiddo - I ain't told ya half of it.  An' I ain't _gonna_ tell ya, neither, til' I'm sure you kin handle it.  Just ease that throttle back, just a little, and give 'er some more rudder.  And keep that wheel forward."

"Wa-HOO!" the boy yelled with a laugh, as the plane tightened it's circle and descended, prompting a grin from the big bear in the co-pilot's seat.  "This is great!" Kit enthused as the plane completed a series of spins, careening ever closer to the ocean surface.  Baloo kept a close eye on the horizon and on his navigator as the water drew closer.

"OK, now level her out!" the pilot said as they dipped below 300 feet.  "That's the final trick, Kid - bringing her down safe.  The most important part."

The cub eased off the rudder and pulled back on the starboard throttle, slowing the turn but not stopping it.  The boy gently eased the stick to starboard, and the plane gradually resumed a straight path.  "Altitude 200 feet, airspeed 105 MPH." he announced, checking the panel.

"OK, L'il Britches, you done this part before.  Bring 'er down."

The boy eased the throttle back, breathing heavily from excitement, and banked the plane downwards.  As he neared the surface of the water he eased the throttles farther and got the nose of the aircraft up.  With a gentle splash the Blue Eagle's pontoons touched down on the water and the boy reversed the props.  They eased to a stop and he cut the engines.

"Very nicely done, L'il Britches." Baloo grinned, patting Kit on the back.

"That was fun!" Kit beamed.  "Man, I could really feel the G-forces when we were in that spin..."

"Yeah, well, just remember - you don't wanna get into any spin you can't get out of, Kid!"

Kit exhaled heavily.  "Yeah, definitely.  Well, that wasn't exactly a Baloo Corkscrew, I guess..."

"Call it a Cloudkicker Sidewinder!" the pilot chuckled.

"Not a bad start though, huh?" the boy said, with a sheepish grin at Baloo.

"Man, you are somethin' else, Kid!" Baloo laughed, pulling the cap down over Kit's eyes and heading back into the hold to check the cargo.

Kit followed him back and opened the cargo door.  "Sure is beautiful out there, Baloo." he whispered, gazing at the open seas before them.

"Sometimes those spins are a little tough on the cargoes, Kid, but we seem to be OK." Baloo chuckled.  He gazed over Kit's shoulder.  "Never get tired o' this, huh?"

Kit stared out at the water.  "Y'know, after all that flyin' I think I could unwind a little..."  The cub walked up into the cockpit and re-appeared a moment later, carrying his trumpet.  "Snuck this on board!  Always wanted to play out here, in the middle o' the ocean....You mind, Papa Bear?"

"Knock yerself out, Ace!" Baloo grinned.  "Just don't play any o' Becky's hoity-toity stuff..."

Kit sat in the open cargo door, dangling his legs out over the water.  Baloo sat next to him and the boy began playing.  A dusky sounding blues emerged from his trumpet, with a distinct jazzy beat.  He played for a few moments, cheeks puffed out comically - slowly, clearly, the notes drifting away over the water and dissipating into the afternoon.  When he was finished he breathed deeply and stared ahead for a few moments, then grinned sheepishly over at Baloo.

"Kid - that was - that was real good!  Sheez, you been practicin' or what?" Baloo enthused, impressed and surprised by the cub's playing.

"I think it's the room." Kit grinned, staring out at the gently rolling blue seas.

"Man, you must really be gettin' inta this music thing, Kid!  What was that you was playin'?"

"It's called 'Wild Man Blues', Papa Bear.  Didya like it?"

Baloo clasped Kit's shoulder.  "Pretty special, Kid.  Didn't know there was a musician in the family.  Say, I think we got time fer a couple sodas before we gotta move on, sound good?"

"Sounds good." the boy replied.  He sat for a moment, absently blowing out notes on the trumpet.  "Wait a minute!" he yelled over his shoulder.

"What?" Baloo asked, startled, as he approached with two bottles of pop.

"You just wanted to avoid the customs guys, didn't you?  _That's_ why you wanted to take my plane!"

Baloo chuckled in embarrassment and handed the cub a bottle.  "Guilty, L'il Britches."

"But - why didn't you just say that?"

The pilot sat next to Kit in the doorway.  "Well, fer one thing there's no point in gettin' ol' Beckers all riled up about nuthin', and fer another I didn't wanna make you feel like we had ta have a special reason fer takin' the Blue Eagle out.  We don't need to, anyways - she's a great plane."

Kit considered.  "That's OK, I guess.  No point in worryin' Becky.  Pretty clever o' you to think of it though, Papa Bear."

Baloo grinned.  "Ol' Baloo comes up with a brainstorm ever' once in a while.  Well, maybe a shower."

Kit took a long swig of his soda.  "We can't take the Eagle on all of our runs, you know - she's too small for most of our cargoes."

"Yeah, I know Kiddo.  But hopefully they'll catch whoever did whatever and we'll be off the hook."

"I wonder what they did - whoever it was." Kit mused.

"Dunno, Kit." Baloo said, draining his soda.  "But whatever it was, I know one thing - it's got nothin' ta do with us."
 
 

"Yes, I'm well aware of the significance, Mr. Ironfeather." the elephant in the blue suit said to his visitor, a bald eagle in a leather vest.  "The government of New Kent has taken every measure to try to ensure the return of the gravy boat to it's rightful place in the museum."

The eagle shook his head sadly.  "Do you not understand anything I am saying?  That is not it's rightful place in any case.  We-"

"Yes, Mr. Ironfeather." the pachyderm interrupted with exaggerated patience.  "I understand your position, but at any rate this is a moot issue - at the moment we have no idea where the artifact is.  So, as you can see, matters of propriety are not relevant.  So, if there's nothing further, let me just say that we will keep the Council informed of any developments as they occur.  All right?"

The eagle stood and did not offer his hand.  "Relevance is subjective, I suppose.  That's always the way it's been between our peoples.  I was a fool to expect anything different now.  Good day."  With that, he gracefully stormed out of the office and was gone.
 
 

"But I _told_ ya, we was in San Pelicano that night, an' I got flight plans ta prove it!" Baloo fumed to the harbor police officer seated across the desk from him.  "We've delivered to New Kent a hundred times and no problems!"

"The flight plans!" Kit seethed, seated next to him.  "Are we gonna have to repeat this to every cop in Usland?  Whatever we're supposed to have done, we didn't do it!"

"If you'll just be calm, we're checking that right now." the officer said.  "The fact is, your aircraft is a perfect match for the description-"

Look!" Baloo said, exasperated.  "Do us a favor - if we're gonna get blamed all over creation fer doin' somethin' we didn't do, at least tell us what we didn't do so we can know what we're bein' accused of doin'!"

"What he said!" Kit echoed.

"Fair enough." the policeman said.  If you are who we're looking for, I won't be telling you anything you don't already know."

"I kin see why you made Sargeant!" Baloo muttered under his breath.

"Perhaps you've heard - the sacred gravy boat has been stolen?  It was in the New Kent Museum of Anthropology for almost 200 years-"

"Gravy boat?" Baloo said, scratching his head.  "Where did I hear about that?"

"I got it!" Kit said.  "That was from the first Thanksgiving, right?  The pilgrims and the natives.  They taught us about that in school."

"What'd you say, L'il Britches?" Baloo asked, searching his memory.

The policeman looked at them appraisingly.  "That's correct.  It is very old - and very valuable.  And it was stolen by someone who escaped in a plane whose description matched yours exactly."

Kit stood and looked the policeman in the eye across the desk.  "Look, Mister.  I'm not a cop - but I am a navigator, and a darn good one, even if I don't look like it.  San Pelicano is six hours flight from here.  You do the math."

Another officer walked into the room.  "Their story checks out, Sarge.  The flight plan was legit - they took off from San Pelicano at ten o'clock on the night of the 18th."

"TOLD ya!" Kit said with a smug grin.

"Well then, I suppose you two are free to go - can't hold you without any evidence.  But we'll be keeping our eyes open, so watch out!" the first officer said.

"Pilots always keep _our_ eyes open!" Baloo grumbled.

"See that you do!  There's a ten thousand dollar reward for the return of the gravy boat to the museum."

Baloo grabbed Kit by the hand and they left the harbor patrol station.  "Wow - then thousand bucks!  That sure is a lot of money Baloo." Kit said to the pilot.

"Yeah - might just about pay fer all the trouble it's caused us!" Baloo said bitterly.  "If I ever get my hands on the jerk who did steal that fancy dish...."

"Well, never mind.  It'll be Thanksgiving in a few days and then everybody'll stop worrying about it." Kit said.  "Let's not let it spoil our whole holiday!"

"Yer right L'il Britches." Baloo grumbled, stepping onto the Sea Duck and strapping into the pilot' chair.  "Sooner I'm outta this place, the better I'll like it.  What's our course fer Cape Suzette, Kiddo?"

Kit strapped in as Baloo started the engines.  "Twenty-seven degrees south-southeast, Papa Bear.  Done it a thousand times."

"Roger." Baloo said, taxiing the plane out into the harbor and taking off.  Within moments they had left New Kent behind and where over open water.  "Now then, navigator - what say we stop off at Louie's and get us some Krakatoa Specials?"

"That sounds delicious." a voice said from behind them.  Startled, bear and cub turned to see a bald eagle in a leather vest standing behind them wearing a small grin on his face.  "But first, I must ask you - why have you stolen my people's sacred artifact?"
 
 

"Yeah, dat's right." Trader Moe barked into the phone.  "I got it.  Sure, I got a few offers on da table.  How much?  I dunno, I gotta think about it.  Yeah, make it a hunnerd and ten and youse  got a deal right now.  Yeah, dat's right.  Hunnerd an' ten.  Yeah, I'm listenin'.  New Fedora, Wayfarer's Inn, across from da docks.  Tomorra, Midnight.  Gotcha.  I'll be dere."

Moe beamed at his goons.  "Dat's it you lug nuts!  Hunnerd an' ten thousand dollars for that old pot!  Best deal I ever made!"

"Yeah, da best boss!" Rhino Goon enthused.

"Yah, not worst ever!" Ape Goon grinned.

"And nothin's gonna go wrong either, ya hear me?  I ain't lettin' you claw hammers mess up another one o' my operations.  I'm takin' da gravy boat with me and guardin' it myself, just so's you morons can't lose it."

"Aw, we can do it, boss!" Rhino Goon protested.

"Yah, can!" Ape Goon added.

"Shaddup!  Just meet me at da plane at ten o'clock tomorrow night.  And try not ta screw anything up before then!"

"OK boss.  ten o'clock, big hand twelve." Rhino Goon said.

"Little hand thirteen." Ape Goon nodded.

"No, ten!  He said ten o'clock!"

"Oh yah, ten!"

"Will ya shaddup!" Moe bellowed.  Juts meet at da plane and...guard the office til' then.  Think youse can handle dat?"

"Oh yeah, boss, you can count on us!"

"Yah, on us!"
 
 

The bear and cub stared at the tall stranger sharing the cockpit of the Sea Duck for a long moment.  Finally Baloo spoke.  "Now, you just wait a minute, Pal - what the heck are _you_ doin' in _my_ plane?"

The eagle smiled thinly.  "A fair question."  The man wore a belt which had a very formidable looking bone knife strapped to it, but made no move to brandish the weapon.  "I am not satisfied by the efforts of the so-called 'rightful owners' of my people's artifact to retrieve it.  As has always been the case, we have had to seek our justice ourselves.  I know the thieves escaped in a yellow and orange seaplane.  This is a yellow and orange seaplane - and the only one I have ever seen at that.  Now I ask you again - why have you stolen our property?"

"We didn't take anything, Sir!" Kit protested, eyeing the knife nervously.

Baloo wagged a finger at the eagle.  "Now look, Mister - Mister-"

"Ironfeather.  John Ironfeather - head of the New Kent Council of Elders."

"Mr. Ironfeather.  You kin keep asking me that question all day and I still won't answer it - cause we didn't take anything!  We been takin' the rap fer whoever stole that thing all over Usland fer a week but we didn't take nuthin', and we've got the flight plans to prove it!"

"So your presence is New Kent, the scene of the theft, is pure coincidence?" the eagle prodded.

"Hey - we're a cargo firm, and we was deliverin' cargo!  We fly to New Kent all the time.  You think we woulda been stupid enough to come back here if we really _had_ stolen the thing?" Baloo asked in frustration.

"That _is_ a valid point...." the eagle said dubiously.

"Sir-" Kit interrupted.  "I can promise you we didn't steal your artifact - we're not crooks!  But the police told us that it belongs to a museum, in New Kent..."

The eagle laughed derisively.  "They would.  They waved a lavish reward in front of you too, no doubt."

"Listen, Mr. Ironfeather - " Baloo said, anger creeping into his voice.  "I dunno what this is exactly - if yer hijacking us, or stealing our plane, or what - but we just spent an hour with the harbor police and that's on top o' hours with every police department and customs office ever'where we been all week - and they all figgered out the same thing - we didn't steal anything!  So whoever this bauble belongs to, I don't care - thanks to my navigator we got flight plans that show we was eight hundred miles away when it was stolen.  So we can't help you."

The eagle chuckled ruefully and sat on the deck.  "I thought it seemed a little too easy."

"Sir - we're talking about the sacred gravy boat -the one that was used in the first Thanksgiving, right?" Kit asked.  The eagle nodded.  "Well - they told us in school that it was a gift - that it was given by the native tribe to a group of pilgrims who were sharing a feast with them."

"You do not always learn the truth of the story is your schools, Mr.-"

"Kit Cloudkicker." the boy interjected.  "And this is Baloo - my father."

"Cloudkicker?" the eagle said, raising an eyebrow.  "That is a name of the sort that is given to a boy on his reaching maturity among my people.  Are you of the native races?"

Kit glanced over at Baloo.  "Uh - no.  That's just kinda my name.  It was my Father's name.  My real Father, Baloo is my adopted one.  My real Father died when I was two."

"I'm sorry." Ironfeather said with a frown.  "In any case, my people do not believe in coincidences, Kit Cloudkicker.  Perhaps it is an omen of sorts that we have met in this way.  Perhaps you were intended to help us.  Cloudkicker - it is a fitting name for a boy who flies, yes?"

Baloo chuckled, beginning to like this odd man even in spite of their strained introduction.  "That ain't all, Baldy - you should see him on his airfoil!  He hangs out the back o' the plane on a tow rope and surfs on the clouds.  It's a real sight!"

The eagle looked Kit over appraisingly.  "I imagine it must be.  We believe that names are very important, Kit - not just affectations, but indeed a part of our very souls, and an important indicator of who we are.  It appears your name is most fitting - that is a good omen for you.  I am amazed it was not bestowed upon you by one of our people."

Kit was a little bewildered by all this, but still curious about his original question.  "Mr. Ironfeather - why would they tell us that story about the gravy boat if it isn't true?"

The eagle smiled bitterly.  "That is a question that I could take many lifetimes to answer, young eagle.  It is the people who are in power who decide what is taught, is it not?  My people once passed stories down verbally, from generation to generation.  Now, like you, we set them down on paper.  It is a fine system, but we have lost something.  It is easier to lie on a page than to lie to your child when you tell them a story.  Your historians have told the tale as they would want it remembered."

Baloo interrupted.  "This is all very interesting, friend, but we got to get home soon and I still don't know just what yer doin' on my plane - and what you want!"

"I wanna hear, Baloo!" Kit protested.  "Let him tell the story."

Ironfeather looked at the cub with a chuckle.  "Again, it is a story I could take a lifetime to tell, young one.  Indeed, my ancestors gave the sacred item to their guests, as a gesture of goodwill.  The people were starving, and we showed them how to cultivate crops in their new land, how to find fish in the harbors.  There was a feast, in 1621, to celebrate the bond of friendship between our peoples.  This artifact was given to these settlers.  It is a very sacred item to my people - it had been used in harvest festivals for longer than any who lived could remember, and that was a very long time.  Images from our own ceremonial feasts were carved onto it's very surface, each generation the shaman of the tribe painting a new scene.  It was given as part of a treaty, that said that my people would continue to provide assistance to the settlers in exchange for a perpetual respect of our territorial claims and holy places."

"Likely story." Baloo muttered.

"Indeed, the treaty itself is still on display at the very museum that held this artifact until a week ago, fat one.  You can see it any time - as long as the museum is open of course."  The eagle laughed bitterly.  "This treaty was viewed by my people as a sacred contract.  It was viewed by those who followed the original colonists as a historical oddity - something to be trifled with and ultimately ignored when the terms became inconvenient."

"That's not fair!" Kit said with a frown.

Ironfeather chuckled.  "The moral certainty of youth!  You are correct, little bird.  It was not fair.  Unfortunately, it was only the first of a long succession of treaties and compacts that my people and others like us entered into, sometimes by force, that were ultimately tossed aside by those who desired their lands.  I cannot redress three hundred years of injustice in a day, my friends.  But I am the direct descendant of the very chief who gave that small pot as a gift, seventeen and three hundred years ago.  It is my desire to see it returned to the holy place of my people.  It is unimportant, perhaps, to you - but it is a symbol, to us.  A symbol of betrayal of trust.  A symbol that we can recapture some of the dignity we have lost by being forced from our homes.
It has been exactly three hundred years since my ancient grandfather died, and he died knowing that his gift had been wasted, and that his people were being slowly stripped of their lands.  It is an important year.  I wish to see this artifact returned."

"Wow!  That's quite a story." Kit breathed.

"I'm real sorry about all that, Johnny-boy." Baloo said.  "I never did hold much with the way those folks was treated.  But it ain't my problem - somebody'll find that thing an' then you kin try to convince the museum to give it back."

"That will never happen." Ironfeather said bitterly.  "It's significance has never ben acknowledged by the new people.  It is perceived to have great material value."

"I'm sorry.  But we don't have it - I told ya before, we weren't even near New Kent when it was stolen!  If ya don't believe-"

"I believe you." the eagle said, closing his eyes and looking very tired.  "I sense that you are being truthful."

"I'm sorry." Kit said, and meant it.

"Me too." Baloo added.  "But we got a real practical problem here, Baldy.  I can't fly you back to New Kent - we gotta get this crate back to Cape Suzette.  I could turn ya in to the aviation cops, ya know, fer bein' a stowaway-"

"Baloo!" Kit protested.  "You wouldn't!"  As a longtime traveler on the hobo circuit, Kit was more than a little sensitive on the subject.

"Naw - I wouldn't, L'il Britches, you know that.  But We gotta do somethin' with him, don't we?  Whatta you suggest?"

"If I may interject..." Ironfeather said quietly.  "Just follow your flight plan, it is of little consequence.  Surely the stolen item is no longer in New Kent in any case, so there's no urgency. I can hardly ask you to inconvenience yourselves further, since I am an intruder on your airplane.  I shall return to New Kent on my own and the Council will decide on our course of action."

Baloo and Kit shared a look of puzzlement.  "Whatever, Ironfeather.  As long as I ain't delayed gettin' home I don't really care." the pilot said after a moment.  He looked over at Kit, who was staring at the dignified, forlorn figure of the eagle with something like awe on his face.  "It's nothin' to do with us."
 
 

Morning dawned cloudy over Cape Suzette.  Kit had already started on his breakfast when Baloo stumbled down the stairs to join him.  "Mornin', Papa Bear." the boy said with a yawn.  Baloo absently scratched him on the head and grabbed a donut before joining him at the table.

"Mornin', L'il Britches." the big bear mumbled.  He wolfed down the donut in one bite and grabbed the sports section.

"Pretty weird business yesterday, with that Ironfeather guy, huh?" Kit said, sipping a glass of juice.

"You said it, Kiddo." Baloo yawned.  "Strange guy all the way around -all them weird stories about treaties and such."

Kit stirred his cereal thoughtfully.  "I guess.  He really seemed to believe what he was talkin' about tho'."

Baloo grabbed two more donuts and handed one to the cub.  "All that stuff's over my head, Kid. I can't spend every minute worryin' about all the injustice in the world.  I'm just a pilot."

"It sure makes you think though, Baloo.  I wonder how much o' the stuff they taught us in history class wasn't true...."

Baloo chuckled bitterly.  "Well, L'il Britches - I've told ya till I was blue in the face that you can't believe ever'thin' people tell ya, 'bout wars and history and such.  But just remember, there's two sides to every story."

"Sure wish we could help him get his gravy boat back." the boy said sadly.

"None of our concern, Kit - ceptin' that it's landin' us in every police station in every port we pass through."

"When we were learnin' about the first Thanksgiving in school, the told us - what's the matter, Baloo?"  The big grey bear had closed his eyes with a frown as Kit was talking.

"I dunno, Kid - it's just I keep thinkin' I've forgotten somethin', somethin' important...."

"Yeah!  You did that before, at the police station in New Kent, I noticed."

Baloo scratched his head.  "I did, didn't I?  What was you talkin' about then, L'il Britches?"

Kit thought back.  "I don't remember...the flight plan?"  The pilot shook his head.  "Wait....the cops had just told us what we were supposed to have done, the gravy boat - and I said I'd heard about it in school-"

"That's it!" Baloo exclaimed.  "School!  Now I remember - the other night - at Louie's!  When those goons were in there..."

"Trader Moe's goons?" Kit asked, puzzled.

"Yeah!  You was so busy makin' the scene, Kid, that you didn't notice-"

"Very funny!" Kit said with a scowl.

"Anyways, Kid - they was braggin' on what a great job Trader Moe had just pulled off - they said he'd stolen somethin' really valuable..."

"Yeah?"

"And really old..."

"Yeah??"

"And it was something you learned about in school!  You thinkin' what I'm thinkin', Kid?"

"Yeah!" the boy grinned.  "Trader Moe has the sacred gravy boat!"

"Hehe!  I dunno why I didn't put it all together before!  This heist has Moe's greasy fingerprints all over it!" Baloo shook his head.  "Guess we should go to the cops, huh?"

"The police?" Kit grimaced.  "No - that's no good!"

"Hmmm... Yer right kid - the cops would be no good." Baloo said, scratching his chin thoughtfully.  "If we told them...we wouldn't get the reward money."

"Mr. Ironfeather wouldn't get the boat back!" Kit said simultaneously.

"What?!" bear and cub exclaimed together.

"Baloo-"

"Kit, we're talkin' 'bout ten thousand bucks here!" Baloo said.  "Besides - the museum in New Kent is the legal owner.  It's not up to us to do anyone's dirty work. I say we get that pot back and turn it in fer the reward money."

"Baloo - you heard what Mr. Ironfeather said!  If the museum gets it back they'll never give it up.  Instead of one thief having it another one will.  That gravy boat means a lot more to the people it belongs to than it does to some collector somewhere!" the boy protested.

"Now, just hold the phone, Britches - it's not like we're holdin' that bauble in our hands right now anyways.  Trader Moe's got it.  Even if we agreed what we were gonna do with it we'd still need to get it away from him."

Kit stood, getting into the spirit of things now.  "Aw, c'mon Papa Bear!  You know we can outthink Trader Moe and his goons any day of the week!  It'll be like taking candy from a baby!"

"A baby with a loaded machine gun!" Baloo grumbled.

"Besides - what else do we have to do today?  There's no deliveries and I don't have school.  Thankgiving's almost here - and that turkey Trader Moe needs to get trimmed!"

Baloo sighed.  He knew when he was beaten.  "OK, L'il Britches - you win.  But I still say as soon as we get that clay pot we turn it in for the reward moolah!"

"Sure, whatever!" Kit said with a grin.  He'd get his way, in the end - Baloo would come around.

Kid'll come around in the end, Baloo thought to himself.  "So now what, Kid?"

"We need a plan." Kit said, scratching his chin.

"Yeah, a plan.  Nuthin' too complicated, neither - not too deal with Trader Moe.  I got an idea, Kiddo.....Every crook has his weak link, L'il Britches - and I think we all know what - or should I say who - Moe's weak links are!"
 
 

"Yes, that's right." Rebecca Cunningham said into the phone.  "I'm sure he will be!  We'll all be thrilled, I promise you.  Uh huh, that's right.  No, I won't say a word.  Yes, it's fine, terrific.  He loves it.  Yes.  I can't tell you how grateful we all are!  Thank you, you too.  So we'll see you then?  Wonderful!"

Rebecca hung up the phone, a wide grin on her face.  "What're you so happy about, Mommy?" Molly said from the sofa, where she had been listening to "Danger Woman" on the wireless.

Rebecca laughed. "Oh, nothing Honey - it's just that when your Mom promises a surprise for Thanksgiving, she delivers!"
 
 

The huge clock read 4:15 as the two figures walked into the front door of the tall building in downtown Cape Suzette.  Next door, a small crowd of diners in the Savoir Fare Restaurant were enjoying an early dinner and a stunning view of the city sprawled out below them.

The two figures - one tall and almost as wide, the other short and wiry, approached the two goons stationed in front of the elevators.  The two figures wore identical black suits, and each had a bushy mustache.  "Inspectors!" the large figure said in a loud voice, startling the two goons out of their reverie - they had been engaged in close study of the rhinoceros' wristwatch.

"Inspectors?" Rhino Goon said puzzled.

"Yeah!" Baloo said.  "Scared gravy boat inspectors.  Gotta see the sacred gravy boat an'....inspect it."

"Da Boss didn't say nuthin' about no inspectors." Rhino Goon said dubiously.

"Yah, didn't say something!" Ape Goon volunteered.

Baloo cast a quick glance at Kit.  "Of course not - haven't you ever heard of a surprise inspection?"

"Yeah - I hearda dat!" Rhino Goon said

"Yah - Hearda dat!"

Baloo grinned.  "Well then - this is a surprise sacred gravy boat inspection.  We're just doin' our jobs, boys-"

"Da boss ain't here!" Rhino Goon interrupted.

"Yah - somewhere else!" Ape Goon added.

"Well, that's all right." Baloo said soothingly.  "We can just zip up and do the inspection and be gone before he comes back."

"Yeah, so he won't have to be bothered." Kit said in a basso voice.

"So, if you'll just take us to the gravy boat-"

"It ain't here neither!" Rhino Goon said.

"Yah - somewhere else too!"

"Da Boss has it!"

"Yah - has!"

"Dang!" Baloo whispered to Kit.  He thought for a moment.  "Well, when is he gonna be back?"

"He ain't comin' back today!" Rhino Goon barked.

"Yah - not back today!"

"Da Boss is goin' ta make a lot o' money tonight!" Rhino Goon said proudly.

"Uh huh - more than a little!" Ape Goon beamed.

"He must be sellin' it!" Kit whispered to Baloo.

"Uh - did yer boss say where he was makin' all this money?" Baloo asked dubiously.

The two goons looked at each other for a moment.  "It's a secret." Rhino Goon said with a grin.

"Yah - can't tell!" Ape Goon added proudly.

Baloo looked down helplessly at Kit, desperately trying to think of a new plan.  The cub nudged him in the ribs.  "What a shame!" the boy said sadly.  "He'll lose out on all that money."

"What money?" Rhino Goon asked, hesitation in his voice."

"Yeah - what money?" Baloo whispered.

"Why, the _prize_ money, of course!" Kit said sadly.  "The prize for the best sacred gravy boat - we were gonna give it to your boss.  But if we can't see the gravy boat, we can't give the prize."

"Yeah!" Baloo jumped in.  "Boy, is he gonna be sore at you guys when he finds out we was here!"

"He'll be sore!" Rhino Goon said worriedly.

"Yah - at us!" Ape Goon added.

"Can't youse give us da money, and we'll give it to Da Boss?" Rhino Goon asked.

"Yah - give us?"

"Sooorrry, boys - we can't give out the prize until we see the gravy boat." Kit said with a sorrowful shake of the head."

"Yeah.  Too bad you can't tell us where he was takin' it, 'cause then we could find him and give him the prize money.  He'd sure be proud of you goons then!"

"Da Boss would be proud!" Rhino Goon said excitedly.

"Yah - of us!" Ape Goon beamed.

"Okay!" Rhino Goon enthused.  "Da Boss is takin' the Gravy boat to Da Wayfarer's Inn, in New Fedora- he's gonna sell it dere tonight at midnight!"

"Yah - big hand on twelve, little hand on twelve!" Ape Goon said proudly.

"Terrific!" Baloo beamed at the goons.  "Say boys - ya know what would make yer boss even happier?"

"What's dat?" they asked.

"If it was a surprise!  Ever'body loves surprises!  I sure do!  You like 'em, dontcha...Leon?" he asked Kit.

"Oh - sure....Calvin!" the boy beamed.  "I _love_ surprises!"

"You boys like surprises, dontcha?" Baloo asked the goons.

"Yeah - like surprises!" Rhino Goon grinned.

"Yah - like dem!" Ape Goon laughed.

"So tell you what - you goons don't say nuthin' to yer boss, and we'll surprise him in New Fedora tonight, OK?  Boy, he'll be even more proud of you then!"

"Proud!" Rhino Goon grinned.

"Of us!"

"Bye now!" Baloo grinned, backing up and waving, Kit close behind him.

"Bye!" the goons said in unison.  "See youse with the money!"

Baloo and Kit exited at the building.  As soon as they were outside, they collapsed against each other, laughing.  "Boy Baloo - that was great!" Kit giggled.  "I really though you were gonna pull out that prize money for a second!"

"You said it, Kid!" Baloo chuckled.  "Course, those two ain't exactly the sharpest knives in the drawer if ya catch my drift.  We're still gonna have ta deal with Trader Moe in New Fedora."

"Aw, we can handle that guy!" Kit replied, twirling his mustache.  "We got the entire sacred gravy boat inspection department on our side!"
 
 

Rhino Goon and Ape Goon stood proudly outside Trader Moe's plane when the diminutive gangster arrived at ten o'clock sharp, with a small box under his arm.  "Youse guys is here - good!  About time youse did somethin' right!"

"Hiya Boss!" Rhino Goon replied.

"Yah, hi!"

"Shaddup an' get in the plane, you lug nuts!  We gotta get ta New Fedora by twelve o'clock."

"Yeah - get there in time!" Rhino Goon nodded enthusiastically.

"Yah - not late!" Ape Goon added.

"You'll be real proud of us, Boss!"

"Uh huh!  Of us!"

"Will ya shaddup!" the tiny alligator bellowed.  "I never know what youse guys is talkin' about!  Now get in dere and start dis plane before I shoot ya full o' holes, ya spongeheads!"
 
 

A few miles away from where the trio stood, the Blue Eagle was already airborne and winging it's way towards New Fedora.  Kit and Baloo sat in the cockpit, the big grey bear at the controls.  Both bears wore the same disguises they had donned earlier in the day at Moe's headquarters.

"Good idea to take the Blue Eagle, huh Papa Bear?" Kit said.

"Sure, good thinkin', Kit.  Never know if ol' Moe's gonna recognize the Sea Duck, even in the dark.  Ya sure we're straight on the plan now, Kiddo?" Baloo asked his navigator.

"Yeah, I got it Papa Bear." Kit said, twirling his mustache.  "Sure hope Moe's never seen the guy before.  It's a good thing you knew where this Wayfarer's Inn place was!"

Baloo chuckled.  "When you fly solo fer twenty years, L'il Britches, ya get to know every dive in every port - that's how it works!  When ya got nothin' to come to, yer in no hurry ta come home.  Kit, I tell ya what - it's nice ta have a reason to come home."

Kit smiled at the pilot and said nothing for a few moments.  He twirled his mustache again.  "Y'know, Baloo-" the cub said, admiring himself in the mirror, "I think I could get used to this mustache!"

"Yeah, Kiddo!" Baloo laughed.  "Makes ya look ten years older!"

"I'm serious Papa Bear!  I think it looks good!  I may need to start shaving soon, y'know.  I think I saw a little bit growing on my upper lip....."

The pilot laughed.  "That's cause ya had chocolate milk with lunch, Kid!  I think it's a washcloth ya need, not a razor!"

"Very funny!  HA HA!" the boy said with a scowl, and turned to stare out the window.
 
 

The hulking, armored aircraft slowly descended through the fog and towards the docks of New Fedora.  Machine gun turrets were mounted on both wings, and armor plating covered much of the hull.  All in all, it was a very fearsome looking aircraft.

In the shadows of an alley across the cobbled street from the waterfront, Baloo and Kit stood, watching the sky and shivering from the evening chill despite the suit jackets they both wore.  Kit looked around him and hugged himself for warmth.  New Fedora held a lot of memories for him, good and bad - it was here that he'd almost lost his life due to his own cocky arrogance and the greed of a scoundrel named Daring Dan.  Like so many of his waking nightmares, however, this one ended with him jumping into the arms of Baloo, who then, as now, held him safe and protected from the evils of the world.  He'd changed a lot since then - less than two years had passed, but to Kit it felt like two lifetimes.  He shivered again from the cold, and snuggled up closer to Baloo's big form next to him.

"There they are!" Baloo hissed, pointing at the shadowy form of an airplane as it noisily approached the docks for a landing.  "I'd know that overblown crate anywheres.  Time ta split up Kid - ya ready?"

"Ready!" Kit said with a resolute grin.  He turned to go, but Baloo put a hand on his arm.

"Be careful, L'il Britches!" Baloo whispered, grabbing the cub's chin gently in his massive paw.  "No stupid risks, ya hear me?"

The boy squeezed Baloo's arm softly.  "I promise.  You be careful too, Papa Bear!"

"You know me." the pilot smiled.  "I ain't takin' no chances two days before the biggest meal o' the year.  Keep yer mustache on!"  The pilot gently ruffled Kit's hair and slipped out of the alley and towards a lighted doorway a dozen or so yards to their right.  Kit watched him go for a moment, then darted off towards the docks and Trader Moe's plane.
 

"Allright, you dishrags." Trader Moe barked to his goons as the plane lumbered to a halt alongside the docks.  He patted his belt for his gun and felt it's reassuring presence.  "Youse guys stay here and keep an eye on dat club.  If dere's any trouble youse head right over dere, got it?"

"Yeah, got it Boss." Rhino Goon said smartly.

"Yah, it!" Ape Goon confirmed.

"And don't do anything stoopid while I'm gone!  Think youse can handle dat?"

"Don't worry Boss, we're real smart!" Rhino Goon said pridefully.

"Yah, not stupid, nope!"

"Gonna make youse real proud!"

"Yah, proud!"

"Whatever." Moe said with a dismissive wave.  Box in hand, he headed out the cargo door and across the cobbled street.
 

From his hiding place crouched behind an oil drum, Kit watched the diminutive reptile leave the plane and start across the street.  He waited until the gangster had nearly reached the doorway to the Wayfarer's Inn and the figure who stood next to it, then leapt from his hiding place and towards the plane.
 

Baloo watched Trader Moe approach, and waited until the alligator was almost upon him before stepping out of the shadows and into the circle of light cast by the lamp outside the Inn's doorway.  "You Trader Moe?" he asked in a low growl.

The alligator looked at him suspiciously.  "What's it to ya?" he snapped.

"I got somethin' for ya." he said, holding up a canvas satchel.  "If you got somethin' for me.  You bring da gravy boat?"

The alligator hesitated.  "What you doin' out here in da street?  Why aintcha waitin' inside?"

"There's cops in there." Baloo answered.  "Couldn't risk it - they know my face around dese parts.  Let's just say I'm famous in soytain soicles!"

"Youse sound different den on da phone." Moe said suspiciously.

Baloo coughed.  "Course I do - I been standin' out here in dis cold fog fer half an hour waitin' fer you!  My voice is half gone.  You bring da item or not?"

"I got it." the abbreviated alligator said finally, holding up the box.  "Youse bring da loot?"

"Right here." Baloo growled.  "But we can't do this right out here in da street - too risky.  We could go back to my office-"

"No way!" Trader Moe snapped, prompting an almost imperceptible smile from Baloo.  "We go to _my_ plane, right over dere."

"You drive a hard bargain, Mister." Baloo said, shaking his head.  "You win - let's go."
 

"Hey, it's da sacred gravy boat inspector!" Rhino Goon said as Kit approached Trader Moe's plane.

"Yah, is!" Ape Goon offered.

"Good evening, gentlemen." Kit smiled, employing the same basso voice he'd used earlier, hoping one of the involuntary squeaks that were invading his normal speech more and more often lately would not appear at an inopportune moment.

"Where's your partner?" Rhino Goon asked.

"Yah, not here."

"He's going to get your boss and bring him back here for the surprise." Kit boomed.  "Are you fellahs ready to surprise him?"

"Yeah, we're ready!" Rhino Goon enthused.

"Yah, big surprise!" Ape Goon giggled.

Kit scratched his chin thoughtfully.  "You know, it won't be much of a surprise if he just walks in and we hand him the money.  Wouldn't it be more fun if we had an even _bigger_ surprise?  I bet he'd be even more proud, too."

"Yeah - we want da boss ta be proud!" Rhino Goon pleaded.

"Yah, bigger surprise!" Ape Goon begged.

"I don't know, I could get into trouble for being that nice to him..." Kit said, hesitation in his voice.

"Please Mr. Inspector, we want da Boss ta be real surprised!" Rhino Goon whined.

"Yah, real surprised!"

"Oh, all right, you've talked me into it.  You guys drive a hard bargain, you know that?  OK, here's what we do - when my partner and your boss come back, we wait up here in the cockpit.  When I give the signal, you goons grab your boss and bring him up here.  You with me so far?"

"Yeah, we grab da boss!" Rhino Goon nodded.

"Yah, grab him!"

"OK - this is real important, so listen, OK?  You guys bring your boss up here to the cockpit, and you count to twenty.  My partner and I will get everything ready.  After you get to twenty, let your boss go, and when he gets back to the hold we'll have a big surprise waiting for him!  Doesn't that sound like fun?"

"Yeah, fun!" Rhino Goon laughed.

"Real big surprise!" Ape goon giggled, and the two hulking brutes did a little jig around the cockpit.  "Da Boss is gonna be proud of us!" they sang in unison.  Kit felt guilty for just an instant - this was almost too easy.  Then he remembered hanging from a giant clock while these goons fired at him with machine guns, and the guilt passed.

"Here they come now!" Kit hissed, peeking out the window.  "Remember - wait till I give the signal, the bring your boss up here and count to twenty.  Got it?"

"Got it!" they said.  "This is gonna be fun!"
 

Baloo followed Trader Moe across the cobbled street to the runtish reptile's plane.  As soon as they were aboard, he took a quick look around.  He could make out the two huge forms of the goons in the cockpit doorway, but there was no sign of Kit.  So far so good, he thought to himself.  "OK, we're on board yer plane." he barked.  "Now I wanna see da merchandise."

"Fair enough!" Trader Moe grinned, holding up the box and opening it.

"Fer all dis cash, I wanna see it close up!" Baloo demanded, holding out his hand.  Reluctantly, the alligator gave him the box with one hand and patted his gun with his other, making sure Baloo saw the gesture.

"Now!" Kit whispered to the goons from his crouched position in the cockpit.  With grins a mile wide, the goons started back into the hold, and Kit slipped out the cockpit door.

Trader Moe felt strong hands grab him from behind, and craned his neck to see his two goons behind him.  "You spongeheads!  What da blue blazes are you doin'?" he screamed as they carried him towards the cockpit.

"It's a surprise!" Rhino Goon grinned.

"Yah, can't tell!" Ape Goon giggled.

Kit ran in a low crouch along the outside of the plane and stuck his head through the cargo door.  "Pull chocks?" he grinned at Baloo.

"Pull chocks!" the pilot answered, and slipped out the door into the night.  The two bears set off at a dash towards the Blue Eagle.

"You lug nuts!  Put me down!" Trader Moe bellowed, squirming in the impossibly strong grip of his lackeys.

"One!" Rhino Goon said.

"Two!" Ape Goon followed.

"Tree!"

"Five!"

"Dat's wrong!" Rhino Goon said with a frown.  "One, two..."

"You peach pits!  Put me down!" Trader Moe screamed angrily.

"Tree...."

"Four!"

Oh yah four!"

"Four!"

"You did dat!"

"Oh yah, five!"

"Six!"
 

Baloo and Kit ran through the fog, chuckling.  "That was almost too easy, Papa Bear!" Kit giggled as he darted ahead of the grey bear.

"Yeah, well it ain't over yet Kid!" Baloo huffed, out of breath.  "We still gotta get outta here without those hoods catchin' up!"
 

"Twelve!" Rhino Goon said.

"Thirteen!" Ape Goon added.

"You banana peels!" Trader Moe wailed

"Fourteen!"

"Eleven!"

"We did dat one!" Rhino Goon protested.

"Oh, yah!  Thirteen, fourteen....fifteen!"

"Sixteen!"

"Seventeen!"

"Eighteen"

"Nineteen!"

"Twenty!" the two goons said together, and released the alligator, who dashed back into the hold.  "Surprise!" they yelled, and danced another little jig.

"What the - my box!" Trader Moe bellowed.  "Where'd he go?"

The goons poked their heads through the cockpit door.  "Hey - where's da inspectors?" they said in unison.

"What inspectors?" Moe screamed, exasperated.

"Da sacred gravy boat inspectors!" Rhino Goon answered.  "Dey was gonna give you a big surprise!"

"You peach pits!  Dey stole it!  C'mon, we gotta find 'em!"  He jumped down to the docks and looked in both directions.  Suddenly, he heard an airplane revving it's engines for takeoff a few dozen yards away.  "Fergit it!" he screamed at the goons, dashing back onto his plane.  "Just start the engines!"
 

Kit held the box in his lap as the Blue Eagle lifted off the water and started into the night sky.  "Wa-HOO!" he yelled.  "That was amazing!  If those goons were any dumber they'd need instructions to fall outta bed!"

"Like I always said Kid - it takes a dumb plan to beat dumb goons.  And those goons are as dumb as they come!"

Kit looked down at the box in front of him.  "I guess it's ours now, to do with what we want, huh Baloo?"

Baloo slammed his hand on the dash excitedly.  "Hot dog!  Ten thousand smackers, Kid!  You got any idea how much soda pop you can buy with that kinda dough?"

"Yeah." Kit said quietly.

"And all kinds o' stuff - new flight jacket, all kinds o' new records for ya - not to mention a healthy chunk o' what I need to buy back the ol' Duck!  What a break, Kid!" Baloo enthused.

Kit was silent for a moment, staring down at the box in front of him.  "Baloo -" he began, but was interrupted by a sound of gunfire whizzing by off the starboard side.  "What was that?" he squeaked.

Baloo looked in his mirror.  "We got company, L'il Britches - looks like Trader Moe figgered out who took his meal ticket!"  Another round of bullets peppered the hull.

"They're shooting at my plane!" Kit said indignantly.

"Yeah, now ya know how I feel, Kiddo!  Let's see what this old bird can do!"  He banked the Blue Eagle into a sharp roll and dove down towards the water.  Trader Moe's heavily armed craft turned to follow.  Baloo pulled out of his dive and flew low, skimming the dark surface of the ocean.  The hulking grey aircraft pulled in behind them and resumed firing.

With a sharp pull on the wheel Baloo flew almost straight into the air and looped, ending up almost on top of Trader Moe's plane.  "Moves almost as well as the Sea Duck!" he said, diving down towards the grey hulk.  Just in time, Rhino Goon saw him coming and banked away before Baloo could force the plane down into the water.  "Nix plan A!" Baloo muttered, swerving to avoid another round of machine gun fire from the other airplane.

"What now, Baloo?  She's faster than we are, and armed to the hilt!" Kit hissed, staring out the window as the grey craft maneuvered to get behind them for another attack.

Baloo flew straight up to avoid yet another round of gunfire.  "Ol' Baloo's still got a few tricks up his sleeve, Kiddo - don't give up yet!" he said in a determined voice.  "We got the edge on 'em in maneuverability, but that's no good out here!  I'm gonna head back inta New Fedora and see how that tank does when there's buildings in the way!"  The grey bear banked the plane and headed back towards the lights of the city, a few miles distant.
 

"What's he doin'?" Trader Moe barked, as the plane they were chasing changed course and whizzed by them, returning in the direction they'd just come from.  "Don't just sit dere, youse idiots!  Follow em!"

"Right, boss!" Rhino Goon replied quickly.

"We'll follow em!" Ape Goon added.

"Morons!" the gator muttered.
 

Baloo flew in a serpentine path back towards New Fedora, and within a moment they were back over land, the slate grey seaplane right behind them.  The late night streets were nearly deserted.  More bullets ripped through the hull and dinged off the bulkhead.  "They're shooting my baby!" Kit wailed.

"Yer baby kin take bullets better'n we can, L'il Britches!" Baloo said, headed for the tall skyscrapers downtown.  After a moment, he saw what he was looking for - the twin towers of a looming office complex.  He banked the blue and gold seaplane and headed for the buildings.

"I hope you know what yer doin', Papa Bear!" Kit said nervously, eyeing the spires in their path.

""That never stopped me before!" the pilot muttered, the buildings growing ever closer.  It was clear they weren't going to fit between them.  Baloo slowed, letting their pursuers almost catch up.  Kit covered his face with his hands, peeking out between his fingers.  At the last instant, Baloo banked the plane on it's side and skimmed between the towers.
 

"Keep on 'em!" Moe barked as the prey flew towards the office towers.

"OK, boss!" the goons said in unison.  They were within thirty yards of their target now...Suddenly, the seaplane banked on it's side and slipped between the two towers.  Rhino Goon attempted to follow suit, but the hulking grey craft couldn't maneuver quickly enough.  Both wings were neatly sheared off as it slammed into the twin skyscrapers.
 

Baloo and Kit poked their heads out their windows as the Blue Eagle emerged from between the twin towers and righted itself.  There was a scream of tortured metal audible even above the engine noise, and the fuselage of their pursuers, now unencumbered by most of it's wings, emerged from between the buildings and dropped noisily to the street below.

"Wa-HOOOO!" Kit screamed, slapping his hands on the dashboard.

"Yee-HA!  If ya can't fly, don't mess with the Blue Eagle!" Baloo bellowed out his window.

"Boy, that was some escape, Baloo!  You were terrific!' Kit gushed.

"Great pilot....great plane!" Baloo said, clapping the boy on the shoulder.

Kit blanched at the mention of his plane.  He ran his hands gently along the wall.  "I'm sorry, baby - I hope they didn't hurt ya too bad!"

Baloo chuckled grimly.  "Ya take after yer ol' man, L'il Britches.  This lady's earned her stripes in my book - she got us outta one heckuva jam!  There's nuthin' wrong with her that Wildcat can't put right."

Kit ran his hands fondly along the instrument panel.  "Thanks, girl!" he said with a wistful smile.
 

Alligator, rhinoceros and gorilla sat in silence for a few moments in the wrecked cabin, as the sound of sirens began to wail in the distance.  Trader Moe took off his hat and tossed it angrily into the hold.

Rhino Goon finally spoke up.  "Sorry, Boss!" he said sheepishly.

"Yah - sorry!" Ape Goon added helpfully.

"We shouldnta crashed into dose buildings."

"Yah - gone boom!"

"Dat was real dumb, Boss."

"Yah, we was dumb!"

Trader Moe hung his head in his hands, shaking it sadly.  The same phrase repeated itself over and over in his mind - it was beginning to seem like the story of his life.  "I gotta get me some new goons....."
 
 

Baloo and Kit sat at the table back at Higher for Hire, Trader Moe's box in front of them.  They stared at it silently for a moment.  "Guess we oughta take a look at it, huh?" Baloo said after a moment.

"Sure." Kit said, opening the box gently.  With great care, he pulled out the ancient clay pot inside.  "Wow!" he breathed, gently setting it on the table and feeling it's amazingly smooth surface.

"Pop my peepers - she's somethin'!" Baloo said, looking the aged artifact over.

"Look - all these designs!" Kit gasped urgently, pointing to the images painted on the clay surface.  Incredibly tiny figures of humans and animals dotted the object, in several different styles and forms.  "They must be from all the different shamans - from all the festivals an' stuff."

"She's really somethin' all right." Baloo nodded, gently lifting the item to examine it more closely.

"Do you believe in omens, Baloo?" Kit asked quietly.

"Not really - whaddaya mean, Kid?"

"I dunno." the boy said, chin in hands.  "I just keep thinkin' about what that guy, John Ironfeather, said - about my name, and all...."

"Now Kid-" Baloo sighed, setting the gravy boat down gently.

"C'mon, Baloo - you never believe in anything, do you?  I never really knew my parents.  I don't know much about my heritage.  Maybe I really was meant to get involved in all this.  Maybe it's my destiny.  Think about it - Cloudkicker _is_ a pretty weird name, isn't it? Especially for a kid like me?"

"That's a bunch o' mumbo-jumbo, Kid.  Yer name is yer name an' that's all it is."

"I guess." Kit said sadly.  He resumed his study of the clay pot.  "I bet those artists really put a lot of thought into these drawings - look at the detail!  This is like a history book, you know Baloo?  The whole history of those people is written on this pot."

"And ten thousand dollars is a lot o' shaboozies.  Think about all we could do with that loot, Kid.  Think about all we could do fer Becky, an' Molly." Baloo said gently.

"Yeah." the cub whispered.  "It sure is a shame, Baloo.  This thing was given in friendship, as a gesture of trust.  And the people who gave it were betrayed.  They had their land taken away, and their whole world was torn apart.  And we're about to celebrate a holiday that honors that, and it's all a lie."

They sat in silence for a few moments, as the clock ticked towards three A.M.  "Sure is a lot o' shaboozies, Kid." Baloo said softly.  He sighed and sat back in his chair.  "Gimmee the phone, wouldya L'il Britches?"
 

It was afternoon when the knock came on the door at Higher for Hire.  After their late night, both Baloo and Kit had slept late - Rebecca had taken the day off and scheduled no deliveries.
Baloo went to the door and opened it to find a smartly dressed fox standing outside.  "Frank Grimspaw, ain't it?" Baloo exclaimed.

"Mr. Baloo." the fox said with a crisp smile.  "I'm here about the gravy boat."

"The gravy boat?" Baloo said with a puzzled frown.

"Yes - that was the item that was stolen using the plane whose description matched yours.

"I thought we'd figgered that all out already - we had nuthin' to do with stealin' that bauble!" Baloo protested.

Oh, I know, I know." Grimspaw said with a grin.  "It's just that Trader Moe was arrested last night, and admitted to stealing it - or at least, his goons did.  I understand you've had some dealings with him in the past-"

"You could say that." Baloo grumbled.  "That guy's a no-good snake!  He ruined my hot dog selling business at the Friendship Festival, and he nearly cost me my favorite boogie-woogie record!"

"I see.  But you've had no contact with him lately?"

"Not so's I can remember." Baloo answered with a shake of the head.

"I see.  Well, I'm going to be leaving Cape Suzette and heading back to our headquarters, so I just wanted to stop by and make sure you hadn't seen anything-"

"Not a thing."

"Yes.  Well, Trader Moe did not have the item with him when he was arrested - said it was stolen from _him_ by yet another thief.  Of course, he could still have it stashed somewhere.. You were aware that there's a $10,000 reward?"

"I'd heard that." Baloo said with a grimace.

Grimspaw squinted at the big grey bear for a moment.  "Well, that's a lot of money.  I'm sure it will be returned to it's rightful owner soon.  Be sure to notify us if you hear anything, Baloo."

"Will do!" Baloo grinned, extending his hand.  The fox shook it and departed.  Baloo walked over to the easy chair and slumped into it with a heavy sigh.  "You can come out now."

Kit and John Ironfeather emerged from the supply closet.  "It's a good thing you didn't get here five minutes later!" Kit grinned at the eagle.

"Indeed." Ironfeather replied, box in hand.  "As soon as I got your message I chartered a plane back to Cape Suzette."  He grinned at Kit.  "Perhaps it was destiny, young eagle.  You have performed a great service to my people.  We are grateful."

"It was nothin'!" the boy answered, looking down at his feet.

"And that's exactly what we get out of it - nuthin'!" Baloo grumbled.

Iron feather stared at Baloo for a moment.  "And yet still you called me last night, when it would have been easy to call someone else....My people believe that it is a man's actions which define him, not his words."

"That sounds like Papa Bear." Kit said with a grin.

Ironfeather clapped Kit on the shoulder.  "As I told you before, little bird, it is customary among my people that a boy be given his name when he performs an act of bravery and reaches manhood.  It is fitting that you have placed yourself in danger in this way, and for this purpose - and earned your name."

"Brother, if that were the case Kit earned that name a long time ago!" Baloo chuckled from his easy chair.

The eagle laughed.  "Perhaps.  In any case, it will make a fine story, will it not?  I will certainly tell my people of the role you have played in this act of healing.  From this day on you are both honored members of our nation.  Cloud Kicker and....Round Bear."

"Round Bear?!" Baloo exclaimed indignantly as Kit laughed uproariously.

"It's _you_ Baloo!" the cub giggled.

"Some gratitude!" the pilot grumbled.  "Ya know, John, the cops are gonna keep lookin' fer that old pot.  They ain't gonna give up."

"Naturally.  However, my people are good at keeping secrets, Round Bear.  It is a skill learned of necessity.  We will do what we have to do to ensure that this ancient treasure never leaves our hands again."

"I'm really sorry, John." Kit said.  "I wish all this hadn't happened.  It makes Thankgivin' seem kinda sad, somehow...."

"Not so, Cloud Kicker.  The meaning of this gift is still as valid today as it was three hundred and seventeen years ago.  It was given in friendship and accepted in friendship by two peoples that sincerely respected each other.  If we celebrate anything, it's the spirit that the original gathering represented.  No amount of deception or bad will in the intervening years can tarnish that.  We need to celebrate the vision and trust of those first celebrants now more than ever."

"Yeah - I guess that's true." the boy nodded.

Ironfeather frowned.  "I see in your eyes that you have suffered much - both of you.  And yet you have much to be thankful for now.  Let that joy fill your celebrations.  Revel in all that you have to be joyous about."  The eagle carefully stashed the box in his large satchel.  "And now, dear friends, I shall return to New Kent and meet with the Council of Elders to decide what is to be done.  You have our gratitude, both of you.  Your story will be told, and your gesture will not be forgotten."

"Good luck!" Kit grinned, shaking the eagle's hand.

"Yeah, Baldy, glad to be of service." Baloo said.  The eagle gracefully tucked the satchel under his arm and was gone.  Baloo and Kit stared at the door for a few moments.  "That was pretty weird, L'il Britches!" Baloo chuckled.

"Sure was, Papa Bear.  It feels like we did the right thing, though.  Maybe it _was_ destiny, Baloo.  I'm sorry about the money-"

"Aw, fergit it." Baloo said with a dismissive wave of the hand  "Some folks just wasn't meant to have dough, I guess.  Maybe it was destiny at that..."

Kit squeezed into the easy chair next to Baloo and snuggled up against him.  "He sure was right about one thing, Baloo - we have a lot to be thankful for."

"You ain't kiddin'." Baloo grinned, wrapping an arm around the cub.  "And right now I'm thankful we have the day off!  What say we head over ta Louie's and spend the day before Thanksgivin' with our best pal?  Sound good?"

"Sounds good!" Kit grinned, head on Baloo's shoulder.  "Round Bear!"

"Man, I ain't _never_ gonna hear the end o' that one...."
 

The streets of Cape Suzette were nearly deserted on Thanksgiving Day as Baloo and Kit made their way to Rebecca's apartment.  Almost everyone was at home, enjoying the day with their families.  Baloo carried a bottle of wine under his arm - Kit had insisted that they bring an offering for the dinner, over Baloo's protestations.  Naturally, the Khan liquor stores were open, even on the holiday.  Business was business, after all.

The two bears entered Rebecca's posh building and stepped onto the elevator.  "Kinda nice, havin' a real Thanksgivin' get-together, huh Kid?"

"You don't know the half of it, Baloo." Kit said, squeezing Baloo's hand.  "Thanksgivings at the orphanage were pretty grim, and as for the other years...."

"Well, never mind Kid." Baloo said, putting an arm around the boy protectively.  "That's all in the past now." They stepped off the elevator and approached Rebecca's door.  Baloo pressed the buzzer, and after a moment Rebecca answered.

"Baloo!  Kit!  I'm so glad you're here." she exclaimed, giving each of them a hug and a kiss on the cheek.  Come in and say hello!"

"Glad to be here, Beckers." Baloo grinned.

"Yeah, thanks, Miz Cunningham!" Kit blushed.

Baloo handed Rebecca the bottle.  "Here's a little somethin' fer the dinner, Becky."

She looked at the bottle in surprise.  "Baloo!  You didn't have to do that!  Thank you."

"Kit's idea." the pilot muttered.

"I guessed that." she answered with a wry grin.  "Come into the living room, there's something I think you'll want to see."

Molly came tearing around the corner into the front hallway.  "Baloo!  Kit!" she squeaked, jumping into the pilot's arms and reaching over to Kit.

"Hiya Pigtails!  Happy turkey day!" Baloo greeted her.

"Hey Short Stuff!" Kit grinned, grabbing her paws as she tried to tickle him.  "What's so funny?" he asked, as the yellow cub began giggling uncontrollably.

"Molly!" her mother admonished.

The girl continued giggling and slipped out of Baloo's arms.  "You'll see!" she yelled, running back into the apartment.  Rebecca grinned slyly and started after her daughter.  Baloo and Kit shared a puzzled shrug and followed.

Baloo and turned a corner into the living room and saw Wildcat kneeling on the rug in front of the fireplace, where a blaze was crackling cheerfully.  The mechanic was gleefully playing with a group of Molly's dolls.  The girl ran over to join him..  Rebecca stood, arms crossed, a smile on her face.  There was an unfamiliar figure on the sofa, he couldn't quite place the man but he looked oddly familiar....

"Hey, guys!" Wildcat called happily.  "Happy Thanksgivin', man!"

Kit stepped up next to Baloo and looked around the room, grinning.  When his eyes fell upon the figure on the sofa, a large tiger with graying hair dressed in a plain brown shirt, his jaw dropped and he froze in place.

"Y'allright, L'il Britches?" Baloo asked in concern.

"Harry?!" the boy squeaked.

"Harry!" Baloo echoed, slapping his forehead.  _Now_ he knew why the tiger looked so familiar!

The man rose from the couch and started over, a smile on his face and a twinkle in his eye.  "Very good, Sprig!  I didn't think you'd recognize me, I've gotten so old-" he stopped in mid-sentence as Kit rushed over and embraced him.  Rebecca shot Baloo a smile and winked.

"Harry!" Kit said again, in disbelief, stepping back to look up at the large Tiger's grizzled visage.

Harry McDowd grabbed the cub's face gently in both hands and a tear rolled down his cheek.  "It's me, Sprig.  By gosh, lemmee just look at you.  Let me drink it in - you're such a sight!"

"I can't believe you're here!" Kit gasped, hugging the big figure again.

McDowd laughed.  "It's uncanny!  It's like your Mom were right here with us.  You're her spitting image, Kit.  I can't believe I'm really here with you again, after all these years!"

"How, Props?" Kit asked, his own tears forming.  "How'd it happen?"

McDowd gently brushed a tear off the boy's face.  "It was your Miss Cunningham, Sprig.  She told me about what happened, with your Mother's letter, and all, and she asked me to come - she said she wanted this Thanksgiving to be special.  My daughter is spending the holiday with her fiancee's parents in San Flamingo or she'd have been here too..."

"Becky?!" Kit said, laughing.  He slipped out of McDowd's arms and approached her.  "I can't believe you did this, for me..."

"It was worth it, just to see the look on your face right now!" she grinned, and they embraced.

"Thank you!" he whispered in her ear.  "Thanks for Harry, and for...for everything."

"Thank you!" she said quietly, kissing him on the cheek, "for helping to show me what's really important."

"I love you too....stupid!" he grinned, returning her kiss.

"Happy Thanksgiving, Kit!  Now, you and Mr. McDowd have some catching up to do before dinner, don't you think?"  McDowd had sat back on the sofa and watched the scene unfolding before him with a huge grin on his face.  Kit sat next to him just as Molly jumped onto the tiger's lap.  Baloo joined them on the sofa and Rebecca sat on the lounge chair.

"I still can't believe you're really here!" Kit laughed.

"There's nowhere I'd rather be, Sprig!" the graying tiger grinned  "So - how's that old plane treating you?"

Kit beamed.  "It's great, Harry!  I love it.  I've even flown it a few times!"

"Is that a fact?" McDowd chuckled.  "I thought you were a navigator, Kit!"

"Best there is." Baloo grinned.  "But he's already a pretty fair pilot too, Mr. McDowd.  Even landed my plane at night in Myopia on his own - saved our bacon.  The only problem is, he wants to do ever'thin' right now!  Thinks he's Whistlestop Jackson already!"

"Aw, Baloo-" Kit grumbled.

McDowd laughed and tousled Molly's hair gently.  "Figures!  Never could keep his Mama down, she always wanted to do everything there was to do, and do it all yesterday!  Course, it also figures you'd be a great pilot, Sprig - what with yer Mom's blood runnin' through ya - and Mr. Baloo to teach ya!"

Kit smiled.  "Yeah, I'm pretty proud about my Mom.  She sounds like a real special person."

"She was Kit.  She sure was.  Best pilot I ever saw.  I sure am sorry you weren't - that you had to - well..."

"I know." Kit said quietly.  "But at least I got to know her, a little.  At least she had a chance to say goodbye.  And thanks to you, I have her plane to earn my wings!  It means so much-"

"Shhh." Harry said, quieting the boy.  "That's your plane, Son, by rights.  It never rightfully belonged to anyone else.  It never belonged to me any more than the moon and the stars do.  I was just keepin' her ready for ya, that's all."

"Well - thanks just the same!" Kit grinned, clasping the tiger's massive paw.  "And thanks for spending today with us."

Rebecca coughed.  "If everyone is hungry, the food is all ready to serve.  Let's head into the dining room."

"Yay!" Molly bellowed, jumping off McDowd's lap and dashing into the dining room.  They all followed, and Kit gasped when he saw the table, groaning with the weight of the turkey, stuffing, and a veritable army of vegetables and side dishes steaming in their bowls.  Candles, fine china, crystal glassware and gleaming silver completed the scene.

"Miz Cunningham!" Kit gasped.

"Wow, Beckers - you sure know how to lay out the feedbag!" Baloo whistled.

Rebecca giggled.  "Eloquently put as always, Baloo!  I may not be able to boil an egg but I know a little something about style.  Kit, I though you could sit over here, between Baloo and Mr