"A Few Kumquats Short"

TaleSpin Fan Fic

by Katie Sullivan

Chapter 1

The Air Pirates were in the midst of a dogfight with a trio of Khan planes. The center plane was carrying a shipment of valuable ore from a mine in Osuzannah, and a pair of fighters were acting as escort. The pirates had them outnumbered, but it was still a challenging day of plundering.

Karnage cursed as a CT-37 to his right began billowing smoke and spiraling downward. He swung his triwing in a wide arc to come at the battle from a better angle, and Scarlet and Mad Dog followed his lead. Having his wife in action beside him was both comforting and nerve-wracking. She was more than competent, so it was helpful to have her there, but she was in more danger than he would have liked.

All around him, the smell of gunsmoke and charred wiring merged with the sounds of shooting, whirring engines and frantic radio calls. Normally, Karnage loved this sort of thing. It was what he lived for, his calling. There was nothing he liked better.

Scarlet flew up alongside him, matched his speed and blew a quick kiss before zooming back into the action.

Well, okay, there were a few things he liked better. But a good, old-fashioned dogfight was still in the top five.

So why, today, did he simply want to escape? Every instinct told him to turn his triwing around and get the hell out of there. Each successive round of gunfire frayed his nerves a little bit more. He flinched at each report, somehow expecting them to be aimed at him.

He often felt he was the center of the universe, but suddenly he felt that he was at the center of the battle, as well. He took evasive maneuvers, dodging bullets that weren't actually aimed anywhere near him. His hands began shaking so violently that he could hardly grasp the controls. Sweat formed in an instant, and the noise of gunfire grew louder and louder, until it seemed to be coming from within his own skull.

Everywhere he looked, there were planes. In his panicked state, he couldn't even distinguish between the pirate craft and the Khan ones. Where was the Iron Vulture? Where was he? Which way was up? How could he fly? Why was everyone shooting at him? What was going on?

He thought he was flying in circles. Or was he going down? Climbing? Doing figure eights?

The world was dissolving around him. There was only the deafening roar of gunfire and the throbbing of his heart.

What was happening?

He began firing his guns. He didn't know why, or what he was aiming at. But it was the only thing he could think of to keep the waves of terror from drowning him.

He only wanted to escape. Away from here, away from his plane, away from his own fur.

Scarlet must have noticed his erratic path, because her concerned voice came over the radio. "Querido? Watch where you're firing! You just about hit Dumptruck! Is something wrong?"

He heard her, of course. But somehow he found himself unable to respond. He just kept flying and firing.

"Felipe?" she tried again. "Are you okay?" More gunshots. "Felipe, answer me! What's wrong?" The panic in her voice only served to amplify his own.

Suddenly, the massive purple hull of the Iron Vulture loomed in front of him, and he nearly plowed into it nose-first. He instinctively pulled back on the controls, and his triwing shot upward, barely clearing the airship.

"Querido, what's wrong with you?" Scarlet's voice came again.

He ignored her, concentrating instead on the landing strip atop the Vulture. Everyone was shooting at him. He had to land and get away. They were all trying to kill him!

By some miracle, he managed a normal landing. The propellers had not yet stopped spinning before he scrambled out of the cockpit and dashed off toward his quarters. Some pirates glanced at him curiously but made no move to stop or question him. He was the Captain, after all, even if he was a bit...well, eccentric.

He ran dizzily, his only goal getting away from the overwhelming terror welling up in his chest. The door to his quarters was locked, but his hands were shaking so that he couldn't work the key. He was still fumbling for it, gasping and cursing, when his wife's voice reached him from the end of the corridor.

"Felipe? Are you all right? What is going on?" She rushed toward him, and he found he was even feeling threatened by her! Had she been firing on him, too? He couldn't remember. He shrank away, but she got her arms around him. "Felipe! Calm down!" His quivering legs failed him, and he fell to his knees with a whimper, bringing her down with him. "Felipe!" she yelped. "What is it?"

"The men...everyone...shooting at me! They are trying to matarme," he stammered in Spanglish.

"Matarte...kill you? Querido, what are you talking about? No one was shooting at you!"

"Yes, no, yes, they were! They want me dead, Scarlet, I know it! They were all shooting, and and and--" he ran out of air and clung to her, nearly hyperventilating.

Scarlet made calming shushing noises and hugged him tight. "Take a deep breath, querido. Calm down. It's all right. No one wants to hurt you, I promise. It's okay, just calm down. Breathe." She repeated the sentiments in Spanish until he stopped trembling. She grabbed the key off the floor and led him into their quarters. "Sit down and rest awhile," she said quietly, easing him into the chair at his desk. He wouldn't let go, clenching her hands with clammy fingers, so she knelt beside the chair. "Felipe, what's the matter? No one was shooting at you! Not the crew, anyway. The Khan pilots were fighting back, but you weren't hit or anything. You're pale a sheet! What in the world is wrong with you?"

He was breathing deeply, his eyes half-closed. "I...I don't...know."

She squeezed his hands. "I've never seen you like this. It's like you're crazy or something!" She winced, realizing instantly what she had said.

Fury blazed in his dark eyes, and he grasped her hands, not in search of comfort, but to cause pain. She gasped and yanked them free, and he stood, slapping her across the face with a wolfish howl of rage. "Never...jamás...call me....that word!"

Scarlet fell backward, stunned more by the fact that he had struck her than the actual blow. He slapped the men regularly, but he had never, never laid a hand on her.

He stood over her, quaking with ire, his hand raised as if to strike her again. She froze in horror, unable to move to defend herself.

Then, as suddenly as it had come, his anger lifted. He blinked, disoriented, and slowly lowered his hand. He looked at her oddly, as if trying to decide if his short-term memory was correct. He saw the tears in her eyes and her dazed look, and realized what had happened.

"Dios mio, Scarlet," he whispered, taking a step backward. "I am sorry! I--I do not...I did not...I would never...querida!"

Her face darkened. "I don't care if you are crazy; if you lay a finger on me again I'll...I'll...I'll do something awful!" she said fiercely. She was too surprised to be articulate.

"I am so sorry, Scarlet. I swear, I don't know..." He wavered as if lightheaded and fell to his knees again, shaking. "Scarlet, I--"

"Felipe--" she began, then merely shook her head. Her anger faded to concern. "What's gotten into you?"

He stammered, searching, then fixed his gaze on the origami in the glass case on the bookshelf.

"Mi hermano..." he said, then laid down on the floor with his hands over his eyes. "Como mi hermano... Dios mio, no..." ["Like my brother... My God, no..."]

Days passed. Don Karnage said little to anyone, just apologizing to Scarlet with an almost annoying frequency, and muttering to himself about his late brother, Ignacio. The signs of insanity his brother had suffered from were manifesting themselves in him. Both he and Scarlet knew it, but neither dared to speak of it.

One afternoon, after a routine plunder, Karnage and Scarlet were returning to the bridge of the Iron Vulture. Behind them, Gibber whispered something to Mad Dog, who immediately burst out laughing. Karnage stopped in his tracks and turned around, grabbing Mad Dog by the lapels. "Are you laughing at your fantabulous Captain?"

Mad Dog fought for air, his eyes wide with panic. "I wasn't laughing at you, Cap'n! Gibber told me a joke!"

Scarlet put a hand on her husband's shoulder to calm him, and he dropped Mad Dog roughly to the floor.

"I let you get away with mutiny once, you traitorous toad! Next time I use your entrails for fish bait!" Karnage snarled.

"We thought you was dead that time, Cap'n! Honest! You got run over by that plane, and we didn't know you was still alive! And when you came back you was actin' so weird, that--"

"You thought I was crazy!" he bellowed.

"Nuh-uh, Captain! Honest!" Mad Dog said, cowering.

"And what were you laughing at, just now?"

"Gibber wuz only tellin' the joke where a mime, Winfield Churchbill and a gorilla bird walk into a bar, and--"

"Shut up, eediot!" Karnage interrupted. He kicked the unfortunate pirate, gave Gibber a warning look, and stomped off toward the command chair. Halfway there, Victoria waddled up, encumbered by her bulky diaper, and playfully tugged on his tail. Karnage whirled around and started to draw his sword before he realized who it was. He sighed in relief, but little Victoria was frightened by his skittish reaction and began to sob. Scarlet scooped her up and held her close, cooing calming words. Karnage inspected his chair, apparently looking for tacks, and then sat down.

When Victoria was soothed, Scarlet set her down on a blanket near her toys and turned to her husband. His paranoia hadn't gotten any better. They now had a bullethole in the door to their quarters, a sword gouge in the dining table, and a grape juice stain on the rug in the Captain's office. The last of these was common enough, with a seven-year-old and a two-year-old around, but this time the culprit was Karnage and his jitters.

He ignored her concerned look, but she noticed his knuckles were clenched tightly on the armrests of the chair, and a film of sweat dampened his brow despite the comfortable temperature.

Scarlet frowned. Something was wrong with him, but he refused to acknowledge it. If it had been a physical illness, he would have expected her to wait on him hand and foot. This, though...this was different.

She put a gentle hand on his shoulder and perched on the arm of his chair. He flinched slightly at her touch but kept staring ahead at the clouds racing by outside.

"Querido, what's wrong? You've been jumping at your shadow for days," she said, keeping her tone soft so no one else could hear.

"I have not!"

"Yes, you have. And I'm worried. Has someone actually threatened you?"

"No."

"Are you sick?"

"No! I am fine! Do not ask me again!"

A few of the men turned from their stations to stare. Karnage glowered at them until they looked away. He stood, shook her hand off, and went to the front window, gazing blankly at the clouds.

Scarlet stayed where she was, her forehead creased in worry.

"Mrs. Captain, ma'am?" wheedled Mad Dog.

"What?"

He made a great show of pinching his nose and pointing at Victoria.

She sighed, picked up the soiled baby, and set off in search of a diaper bag.

The pirates soon returned to their island with a load of plundered jewels. Will was busy taking inventory, so Katarina was tied up watching their infant daughter, Wenna. Juan and Victoria were in bed by eight-thirty. Normally the Captain and his wife would have taken advantage of the quiet evening in a romantic fashion, but tonight Don Karnage simply sat at the table in their quarters, compulsively counting and stacking doubloons with a blank expression. Scarlet watched him out of the corner of her eye as she busied herself dusting and polishing.

The silence was overwhelming, interrupted only by the soft clink of gold coins. He ran out of doubloons, sighed, and gently tipped the pile over, only to begin stacking them again. Finally, Scarlet had had enough. She flopped down at the table across from him and attempted unsuccessfully to make eye contact. "Querido?"

He looked up with a start, spilling the coins. "What?"

She reached across the table and grasped his hands in hers. They were shaking slightly. "Would you like to talk about it?"

"About what?"

"About whatever it is that's been bothering you."

"Nothing is bothering me," he said unconvincingly, fidgeting with a coin.

"You can lie to the men and yourself, but not to your wife. Tell me what's wrong."

He began to look angry, but diffused the emotion with a sigh. "I will be all right. It's just a bad time."

"But, Felipe, I've never seen you like this! When you're not jumping at shadows, you're staring into space or getting angry for no reason. You're not sleeping, and you're eating less than Victoria! I'm worried."

"It is nothing."

"It's not nothing."

Fury flashed in Karnage's eyes, and he stood suddenly, nearly knocking over his chair. "Stop pesting me! I am fine! I am not crazy!" he yelled. "I am calm, composéd, collectéd, and in control! I have all my marbles where they are supposed to be, and I am not crazy! Do you hear me? ¡No soy loco!" He began shaking and sat down heavily in his chair, a hand over his eyes.

Scarlet was at his side immediately, arms snugly around his quaking shoulders. "Cálmate, querido. Nadie dije eso," she said quietly. ["Calm yourself, darling. No one said that."]

"No soy loco," he said again, this time more in anguish than anger.

"Yo sé, Felipe. Yo sé. Cálmate." ["I know, Felipe. I know. Calm yourself."]

"Mi hermano, sí...pero yo no. ¡Yo no soy loco!" ["My brother, yes...but not me. I am not crazy!"]

"Yo sé." ["I know."]

Her embrace seemed to calm him, and he stopped shaking. He sat back, too embarrassed to meet her concerned gaze. "I am sorry, Scarlet. I--"

"It's all right."

"Lately, I have just been...thinking not like myself. And I am becoming like my poor brother, thinking everyone is trying to harm me, and getting angry at the drop of a cat, and...I do not like it, Scarlet. I...Temo." ["I'm afraid."] As it often did, it seemed easier to say it in Spanish. "I can't stop it, and I hate it. I have had bad times like this before, but none so bad, and few since we were married. Now, I just don't know. What if it gets more worser? Before, with the glue, the men thought I was...loco...and that's when they tried to do the mutiny. If it happens again..." He put a hand over his eyes and shook his head. "I'm sorry, Scarlet."

"Stop apologizing. You can't help it. And have you thought about going to see a doctor?"

"Are you joking? They would arrest me! And do you not know what they do to the not-sane? Zap them with the electrical thingies, give strange medicines, and lock them up in crazy hospitals!"

"You don't know that."

"Yes, I do. I riskéd my life to keep my brother away from those places, and I do not plan to end up in one, my own self! I would die first! I am Don Karnage, pirate extrordinaire, scourge of the skies, and I am not crazy!" He turned away from her, angry again.

Scarlet was silent for a moment, then tried a different slant. "Then how about a vacation? We could go someplace nice and quiet, just you, me and the kids, and you could relax for a change. Unwind. That sort of thing is supposed to help."

He neither protested nor condoned the suggestion.

"The International Kumquat Festival is in Fid Jiti next week. It's got a lovely climate, and we could blend in there." She slid her arms around him again. "Please, Felipe. You need to do something. I can't stand to see you like this. If you won't see a doctor, at least try a few days of rest and relaxation. Katarina and Will can keep the men in line while we're away."

He sighed and finally returned her embrace. "If it will make you happy, mi amor, I am supposing I can shoot it."

"Er, that's 'give it a shot'."

"Whatever," he mumbled.

Baloo sat back in his sofa chair and slurped from a soda pop bottle through a straw. He had given up trying to pay attention to Rebecca. Her frenzied movements only made him dizzy when he watched her.

"Gotta call Joseph Aussie of Aussie's Awesome Aardvaarks, then file the tax papers, and call my dentist, and call Michelle Maxwell of Maxwell's House of Wellness, and Inga at Khan Imports, and the newspaper has to print a correction from our last ad--we're Higher for Hire, not Hire for Higher! And gotta pay the electric bill, and the rent, and gotta have Wildcat fix the sink, and gotta have my oil changed, and gotta call Rob Robertson at Oceanworld about that sightseeing excursion he wanted to book, and the Cloudsurfer needs to be repainted--where is Kit, anyway? He's late again! As bad as you, Baloo! Honestly, I don't know how I've put up with you two all these years! Oh, and I've got to call my broker, and I should schedule an appointment at the salon, and there's still a ton of paperwork to be done before we start transporting tourists to the International Kumquat Festival in Fid Jiti next week, and then I have to--"

Baloo had finally had enough. He stood and seized Rebecca by the shoulders as she crossed the room from the calendar to her desk to the filing cabinet for the umpteenth time. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, Boss Lady! Reeeelaaaaaaax! You've been runnin' on super-overdrive for days! You're gonna crash 'n' burn if ya keep this up!"

"Not now, Baloo! I've got so many things to do, I don't have time to--"

"There's always somethin' to do, and there always will be. You gotta learn to relax!"

"But--"

"No buts, Beckers. Now sit down and take a breath, or I'm gonna have ta sit on ya!"

Rebecca gave him a startled look, horrified at the suggestion. Not willing to listen to arguments, he gently but firmly pushed her backward into his sofa chair.

"But, Baloo--"

"Not another word, Becky. You keep goin' like this an' you're just gonna collapse! You were here workin' until after midnight last night! That ain't healthy for ya!"

"And I suppose sitting around all day eating greasy food at Louie's is healthy?"

"Hey, now, don't turn this around on me, Becky. You're the one with your fur in a knot." The sound of a seaplane landing outside interrupted their argument. "That'll be Kit. Now you just sit there and relax while I help 'im unload the cargo, okay?"

Rebecca slouched with her arms folded on her chest. "Fine, Baloo. Five minutes. Then I have to get back to work!"

"Whatever you say, Boss Lady," he said with an ingratiating smile.

Soon Kit and Baloo had the crates of silverware off The Cloudsurfer, Kit's green seaplane. They returned to the office to find Rebecca on the phone. Baloo gave her a disgusted look, but she held up a hand to shush him, nodding at what the caller was saying. She hung up and turned to her two pilots with a grin.

"We've just been hired to take a group of thirty to Fid Jiti for the International Kumquat Festival! Isn't that great?"

"More tourists? Aw, Becky, we're already shippin' two dozen of 'em!"

"So what's another thirty?"

Baloo scowled and Kit just looked tired.

"I'll pay you overtime..." Rebecca said in a fawning tone.

"Aww..." Baloo moaned, unable to resist the extra money or the look in her dark brown eyes. "All right. Fine. But on one condition!"

"What?"

"You've gotta come along and stay on that island for a coupla days for a li'l R'n'R."

She raised her eyes. "I can't! I'm far too busy to just take off--"

"You do look awfully tired, Miz Cunningham," Kit interrupted.

"Is everyone against me?" she sighed.

"No. We care about you, right, Baloo?"

Baloo shifted his considerable weight. "Er, yeah. We do."

Rebecca tried to come up with another protest, but the two bears were looking at her with such concern that she finally gave in. "All right, I'll take a few days off. Just three. We could probably use a liaison on the island, you know, to be in touch with the customers, get a little advertising out there..."

Baloo and Kit simultaneously cleared their throats.

"...or...I could just take along a good book, and enjoy the festival...?"

"Better," Kit said with a nod.

"Okay, okay. Now stop nagging me!"

"What goes around comes around, Beckers," Baloo said, tipping the brim of his cap to her with a wink on the way out the door.

"And what is that supposed to mean?"

But Baloo was already gone, and Kit merely grinned knowingly.

Chapter 2
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