Chase
A Lost Pigeon in New York City...
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It's good to be back.
Sorry for no new chapter last week. Needed to take a step back; also needed to plan what's actually going to happen next in the story!
For those who don't know, this is the ongoing story of a lost pigeon named Lew in New York City.
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Thanks for stopping by and I hope you enjoy today's chapter!
There was Francois, so close but so far.
The scene was set. Ruby, Joan, and I on one building and then Francois on the other, way across the other side of a hundred-foot gap. Between us, the lower cinema roof and a horde of waiting vengeful pigeons who thankfully weren’t yet aware of our presence.
Francois didn’t notice us straight away. He was initially focused on Mac and the other local pigeons. Who knows what was running through his mind?
Down on the cinema roof, Mac was still giving his speech.
Back on our building, we weren’t quite sure what to do. The whole situation felt so fragile. Any move we made could backfire in a million different ways.
“This is bad,” said Joan. “Francois doesn’t know we’re here. If he thinks that Mac has done something to us, who knows how he’ll react?”
She was right. Francois was someone who would fly through glass and knock down walls for his friends.
Still, we couldn’t risk Mac seeing us. If we wanted to get to Francois, we were going to have to take the long way around.
As I stood on the ledge of the building, I caught Ruby beside me looking back behind us, a clear expression of petrified shock on her face.
I turned around and saw what had rattled her. Standing a few feet behind us was a tiny mouse-like bird I had never seen before, staring us down as if he were twice our size.
Amid the silent stand-off, Joan turned too, freezing when her eyes met the little bird behind us.
“He’s with Mac,” said Joan, just loud enough for me and Ruby to hear.
Joan tried to keep her voice cool and calm as she addressed Mac’s little scout.
“Just take it easy,” Joan told him.
Without a word, the little bird launched off like a mini falcon.
The three of us on the ledge watched on as the little scout flew over us through the air. He squawked and cawed for the attention of the others, but his small voice box could only conjure a small voice. He was going to have to get closer. That gave us some time.
In that moment, I looked across to Francois’ building on the other side of the cinema. Typically all-seeing, he had seen everything as it had unfolded.
Suddenly, Francois took off, flapping into action, heading in our direction. With only a brief glimpse of him in flight, I could tell that he still wasn’t quite himself. He was limping through the air, one of his wings having to flap harder than the other.
“Go!” Joan shouted.
My heart promptly started racing. The action was back on.
The first thing we had to do was get our jewellery in order. We hadn’t come this far just to leave it all behind.
“Ruby, you don’t need to carry anything,” Joan instructed sharply. “You keep yourself free.”
There was a wild scramble as we urgently gathered up our stolen treasure, wrapping ourselves in necklaces and bangles, hooking our claws through the hoops of rings and earrings.
It was heavy stuff, those jewels. When carrying it all, each flap of my wings had to have that much more force behind it. Each second of time in the air drained my muscles that much more.
Geared up and ready, we kicked off the ledge and into motion.
Below, the little bird scout was swooping down through the air towards the cinema roof, frantically crying out his new information. Meanwhile, ahead of us, Francois was steaming right at us.
Almost crashing into each other, we met Francois in the middle of the open air between the two buildings. The cinema roof was right below us, although the drop was decently sized.
There was a brief moment of processing as we all took each other in.
Francois was in rough shape. His injured wing had been partially shaved for whatever surgery had had to happen while he was with the vet. All over, his feathers were frayed and patchy – probably from stress. His eyes were big and twitchy as well, as if he hadn’t had much sleep.
“Your wing, Ruby,” he said.
Ruby’s face was tough. “I’ll be alright.”
His eyes went to the shining jewels that Joan and I were covered in, like the two most lavish pigeons in bird history.
“You did it,” he said, not to any single one of us, but to all of us. “I can’t believe you pulled it off.”
I looked down and saw the grey cloud of pigeons surging up towards us like a furious army of hornets.
A little longer and they would be in pecking distance. We could hear them chirping away and crying out now, overwhelmed by excitement.
“What’s the plan?” I asked Francois.
“Keeping clear of their beaks,” he said.
“Where do we go?” I asked.
“We’ll work that out later,” he said.
He looked around briefly, weighing up his options. What the options were exactly, I didn’t have a clue.
Soon enough, he made his choice.
“This way,” he said.
There wasn’t any time for confirmation. We had to go. Off we went in the direction of one of the streets just nearby.
Flying fast, we still had a decent little gap between Mac and us, but it was going to be hard to keep that up.
Up close, I saw just how badly Francois was struggling. As he flapped his wonky wing, I saw red under his wingpit where he had been injured. With every movement he made, his repairs from the vet were being undone.
We made it to the street and followed it. Below us, the ceaseless streams of traffic slithered slowly along in either direction like outstretched bloated anacondas.
Behind us, the gap to Mac was closing. They were gaining on us by the second.
Joan and I were weighed down by silver and gold; Francois and Ruby were wrestling with their injured wings…
It felt like a battle we weren’t going to win.
New chapter soon!