Lew Learns About Life in NYC
Lew finally gets a good night of sleep in NYC. Fully rested, he goes with Francois to scope out an important heist…
Hi!
Sorry I haven’t been posting as much lately. I have been travelling abroad (currently in France!) and haven’t been writing as much as usual.
Today’s story is part of the Lew series about a lost pigeon in New York City.
If you are new to the Lew series, here is a link to part one:
And if you missed the previous part, here is a link to that:
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That night of sleep on top of the cinema roof must have been the longest, deepest sleep of my life. It was magical. To sleep and feel stillness. Actual stillness. Sweet reprieve from the constant motion of the cruise ship. And no icy ocean winds hissing in my ear and tickling my feathers. And no waves spraying up at me every ten seconds. It was beautiful.
When I woke up, I finally felt like myself again. I felt lighter, fresher. The recent travels and tribulations had briefly aged me decades, but now I was feeling my actual age again, younger even. For a moment, I felt like a little baby pigeon waking up in its mother’s perfectly prepared nest. Then my senses began to actually take in the world…
If in my blissful slumber I had forgotten where I was, I was certainly reminded of it very quickly once I was awake. A cacophony of noise boomed up from the streets below — horns honking, cars coughing, humans hollering.
I made my way to the edge of the roof to look around. The street was full of cars and humans and buildings surrounded me every way I looked.
In that moment, I felt suddenly so alone. It was a jarring reminder of just how lost I was. I was so far away from home. I missed my family and friends.
Francois then appeared out of nowhere and landed right beside me.
“Did you sleep well?” he asked.
I had to snap out of it.
“Yeah, I slept great,” I said. “And that party last night, I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Neither had I until I came here,” said Francois.
“Where did you come from before here?” I asked.
“It’s in my name,” said Francois. “A place called France. Specifically, a place called Paris in France. That’s where I grew up.”
“So that’s your home?” I asked.
“I don’t think I have a home anymore,” said Francois. “I just have places where I go.”
“But everyone needs a home,” I said.
“Whatever you say,” he said, brushing me off.
He then stepped away, about to fly.
“There’s a dog bowl on that roof over there you can drink from,” he said, “and you can get popcorn from the bin in the alley next to us. Stay as long as you need.”
“Wait,” I said. “Where are you going?”
“I have a project I’m working on,” he said.
“What type of project?” I asked.
“The type of project that makes you enough money to do whatever you want with your life,” he said.
“Money?” I said. “Like human money? Coins and the paper stuff?”
“Correct,” he said.
I was utterly confused.
“But… why?” I said. “What do you do with it?”
“Howell,” said Francois. “He used to live with humans. He was practically one of them. He’s able to buy stuff off of them.”
“What do you mean he used to live with them?” I asked.
“You know those things they watch in the dark rooms in cinemas like this building we’re on top of?” said Francois.
I nodded.
“Well, humans call them movies,” he said. “They’re like stories. And Howell was in a bunch of them.”
“That sounds incredible!” I said.
“It was all a very long time ago,” said Francois, “but Howell kept some of those connections with humans.”
“So he can communicate with them?” I asked. “He can talk to humans?”
“Not talk,” said Francois. “But, yes, he can communicate with them — enough to buy things off of them.”
“What types of things?” I asked. “Food?”
“Food, sure” he said. “But other things too. Anything.”
“You’re making me wonder if one day I’m going to see a pigeon driving a human car,” I said with a smile.
“Who knows,” said Francois, completely serious. “Maybe there’s a pigeon out there driving a car right now.”
A chuckle of laughter slipped out from me. I almost broke out cackling completely but stopped myself when I saw how serious he was being. He almost looked insulted that I had found it funny.
“Oh, you’re being serious,” I said.
He looked at me for a moment and then he smiled.
“Of course I’m not being serious,” he said.
He turned away from me to fly off.
“Francois, wait,” I said, “can I come with you?”
He looked at me as he thought it over.
“Please?” I said.
A moment passed and then he buckled.
It was a beautiful bright day to be in the air.
As we were flying, we suddenly came across a giant park right in the middle of the city. It was like a magical green island in the middle of an ocean of chaos.
Just as the streets of the city were bustling with humans and cars, the park was bustling with birds.
There were countless flocks coming and going and circling in the air. I could see big groups of them in the park gathered around statues and water features.
“What is that place?” I asked Francois.
“It’s called Central Park,” he said. “Best scraps in all the city — food everywhere you look.”
“Why don’t we go there then?” I asked.
“If only it was that simple,” said Francois. “The humans aren’t the problem with Central Park. It’s the other birds. It’s all one big scramble. You don’t want to go in alone. You need a flock behind you.”
“Do you ever go to Central Park?” I asked.
“Not in a long time,” he said. “I have my eyes on a different prize.”
“Is it the mall that those birds were talking to you about last night?” I said.
“You’ll see,” he said.
We passed the enormous slab of parkland and continued on through the maze of streets that surrounded it.
Finally, we made it to the ledge of a low old building. While Francois was focused on something across the street, I was looking at something else. Right beside us was a statue of a bat-like beast with giant wings and sharp teeth and evil eyes.
“Are there real animals like this here?” I asked.
“I hope not,” said Francois.
I looked across the street at the building that Francois was focused on. It was a glamorous glass building with a stampede of humans pouring in and out of it.
“What is that place?” I asked.
“It’s a mall,” said Francois. “A special mall full of the most expensive human items imaginable. And I’m going to steal from it.”
Here is a link to the next part in Lew’s story:
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