Ep 3: The Killing Fields

22 MINS

‘There’s something afoot.’ The countryside is strangely quiet but a closer inspection reveals unexpected dangers.

Iridesco: A Homer’s Odyssey is an almost fictional story about a flock of feral pigeons in lockdown. Set in Brighton, London and the countryside in between, it follows the lives of Iridesco, Lulu, Dolly and Dove as they embark on a journey that teaches them about the dangers and delights of life as a bird and the relationship between humans, pigeons and homing pigeons.

Part adventure story, part rom-com, the series features raucous crows that speak in iambic pentameter, a trip along the Regent’s Canal and a mysterious code of honour that all birds must follow.

Writer/narrator: Kitty Fisher  Music : The Big Push   https://www.thebigpushband.com/  Producer : Dominic North  Artwork: Lotte North  Sound effects: Freesound   https://freesound.org/  Original story idea: Ed Hill.

Transcript

Episode 3: The Killing Fields

It was late morning when Dolly and Seth stumbled dreamily out of one of the compartments in the dovecote. After ducking their heads in the water butt by the vegetable patch they joined the others for breakfast.

The sun was already warm and the windows of the house were open. A radio played in the kitchen and the occupants’ voices carried out across the garden. 

“Well think about Anne Frank, she had rationing and she was stuck in an attic. And Nelson Mandela was locked up for 27 years without Netflix. You could be chained to a radiator –“

“Yes alright, I know all about that; but it doesn’t make it any easier.”

Just then the door slammed and a groundling stomped out.

“There’s something afoot.” muttered Roger. “The countryside is awful quiet. “It don’t seem right that’s for sure.”

The city birds told Roger about the strange plague that had caused them to leave their families and he nodded thoughtfully. “Sometimes similar things happen in the dovecote. A bird gets sick and within weeks the whole flock will go down with it. It spreads from beak to beak...and sometimes it happens if the place is grubby. If the groundlings catch it quick they take the sick birds away - but they don’t often bring ‘em back.”

Roger looked around before continuing. “It happened to Blanche’s son Beaky. One day he was fine, then he was off his food; flying funny too and just sitting on the platform with his beak open. A kestrel would have snapped him up anyhow but the groundlings took him in and put him in a box in the shed. Blanche could see him but she couldn’t get in to speak to him...and then it was too late - broke her heart.”

They sat in silence for a moment, taking in Roger’s words. Lulu explained how the groundlings had stopped eating chips on the beach and shut the take aways in the city. Hungry pigeons, used to pecking crumbs from the pavements had gone half crazy with hunger. Many of them had no idea how to find food for themselves; instead they gathered silently on rooftops, breaking into desperate fights for whatever they could find.

“I miss them doughnuts most.” sighed Dove wistfully. 

“And chips.” added Lulu.

Iridesco suddenly felt homesick, remembering the smell of the ventilation shaft where he had said goodbye to his father. He had often enjoyed pulling crispy noodles and peas out of the cardboard boxes that overflowed from the bins behind The Magic Wok. George had rarely spoken but he had a knack of sniffing out items cooked in naturally brewed soy sauce and would always save these for his son, silently pushing them over to him and gesturing with his beak. 

“We should try to find out more; talk to some of the other birds.” he said decisively.

“You should have a look around here first.” said Roger “see what’s going on in the villages.”

After breakfast they took to the sky, flying in a loose formation across the fields and rolling hills. The city pigeons had never seen the countryside before, but Roger noticed the strange silence; as though time itself had stopped. The roads were empty. The usual clouds of exhaust fumes and the thumping bass of stereos had vanished. In its place, birds of every species sang in celebration.  The jet streams that sliced up the sky were no more and the only interruptions were swarms of insects, the sudden flit of sparrows and high above, kestrels and sky larks.

Once again, they marvelled at the beauty of this new world; it was as though they had been released from a grey prison cell into the Garden of Eden.  They remembered the grimy streets spotted with gum and the balls of hair and cigarette butts that blew like tumbleweed across the hot paving slabs.

Seth and Dolly were trailing behind now and appeared to be taking a detour across a neighbouring field. In the distance, a groundling crouched over a bag, a long stick propped against his knee. Roger squinted back but his eyes were weak. If he had been younger he may have been able to warn them.

The pigeons flew to the edge of the field and followed a wooded path until it opened into a winding road that led to a junction. There, they perched on the red clay tiles of a rooftop and turned back to wait for Seth and Dolly.

“There’s all kinds of foods in the countryside if you know what to look for...seeds and grain, greens, blossom and bugs. Some of them trees are really delicious!” Roger smacked his beak appreciatively.

The village was silent and then ‘BANG!’ a single shot rang out from the fields beyond. Roger stood erect, his old body tense and alert. Squinting into the distance he leaned forward as though he were sniffing the air. Nothing moved and then ‘BANG!’ another shot broke the silence. The pigeons remained still but it was clear that something was wrong. Seth and Dolly had only been a little way behind them but now they were nowhere to be seen. Then a speck appeared on the horizon gradually growing larger as it approached the terrified birds.

As the speck became a pigeon, they watched intently, searching the sky. The bird disappeared behind an avenue of trees and then emerged, crashing towards them, eyes wide with terror. It was Seth.

Lulu stared in disbelief. She flew towards him, screaming unintelligibly. Seth took a moment to catch his breath before he recounted what had happened.

They had been about to swoop down on a pear tree. As they swerved around they saw the groundling pointing the gun towards the sky. For a brief second they stared down, realising that the barrel was perfectly in line with their bodies. Seth pushed Dolly sideways but the gun followed her and within seconds she had fallen from the sky. A single feather remained hovering, held up by the warm spring air.

Lulu pushed past the group of pigeons and flew desperately back across the field. In the distance the pear tree stood out clearly, its pale blossom lit by the sun’s rays. The groundling stood cleaning his gun and whistling to himself, the limp grey body of Dolly lay motionless at his feet as a toffee coloured spaniel slobbered excitedly over her corpse. Lulu flapped her wings to gain speed but was stopped by Iridesco, who pushed her off course and into the cover of the trees.

“No, it’s too dangerous!” he yelled.

 Despite knowing nothing about guns, like all pigeons, he knew that they should be wary of groundlings. The ones by the Royal Pavilion in Brighton were tame, but this creature had just killed Dolly. They watched from the safety of the trees as the hunter patted his dog on the head and threw Dolly into his bag. 

They stared helplessly as the man strolled off across the field, whistling.

“Let’s get out of this place.” whispered Lulu. “go back home.”

Iridesco put his wings around her. They would have to find a place of safety but he knew in his heart that they couldn’t return to the city yet.

That night, the pigeons huddled together in silence. They had decided to head north to the great metropolis. Roger told them that a gathering of pigeons met around Trafalgar Square. If anyone knew hat to do, the street savvy birds in the capital would surely have the answers.

The next morning they woke early. It was still chilly when they shuffled sleepily out of the thatch.  This time they made their way to the vegetable garden and pecked at the leaves of sprouts and greens that had been planted last year. There were also delicious buds on the trees, but these reminded them of Dolly, and Lulu began to cry again. She remembered the good times they had had, squirting water at each other by the swimming pool that first night and clowning around when they were just squabs learning to fly.  

Roger fussed around them, giving advice as they discussed landmarks and their estimated time of arrival. As it grew lighter the dark shapes on the horizon separated into trees and buildings. Just then, a stocky bird squeezed himself out of the attic and flew swiftly down to the vegetable garden. He stood on the table above Iridesco and the others, his impressive frame in shadow against the brightening sky. It was Seth.

He stepped from one foot to the other, wings tensed as though he were about to pounce. Approaching Iridesco he opened his powerful beak and spat into the air. A metal ring shot out of his mouth and landed in the gravel.

“You forgot this.” he said.

Iridesco bent to pick up his father’s leg ring; the one that he had carried in his claw on that first flight from the city. He had held it tight then, like a talisman guarding him against danger. With everything that had happened since yesterday he had completely forgotten it. It would be an effort to carry it with him to the metropolis but he was reluctant to leave it behind.

 Seth stepped forward and placed his beak inside the ring. With great force he opened his mouth, prizing the metal apart.

“Put your foot inside it and I’ll tighten it up.” he said.

Iridesco extended his leg forward and Seth once again placed his beak around the metal, this time clamping it shut so that it encircled Iridesco’s leg as it had done his father’s.

He smiled and nodded to the stocky wood pigeon.

Keeping the sun to their right, they climbed into the sky. Where they had once gazed down in awe at the sleepy villages and fields of sheep, they now felt a sense of fear. They understood that buses could collide with a bird that was not looking where he was going; young pigeons often flew across the roads without thinking, hitting cars or lorries, but city folk rarely hunted down pigeons for sport. Instead they cohabited amiably, mostly respecting each other. The country may have been an idyllic paradise to those who understood it but the dangers were unpredictable to city birds.

Unsure where they would stay in London, Roger had suggested they stop with a friend of his on the outskirts of the city. They were to fly high until they saw the ribbon of the motorway and follow it north until another main road intersected it. At this point they should head east until they reached the sign of a great golden bird. There they would find Princess Noodles.

It was late when they arrived at their destination. The warehouses by the sides of the roads were deserted now and rabbits and pheasant ventured out of the undergrowth to nibble at the grass verges. After several hours of flying, Lulu spotted what they had been looking for.

The place was just as Roger had described it: a curved slip road took them off of the highway and into a grey car park bordered by bushes. Plastic cups and food cartons dotted around like exotic flowers blossoming unnaturally from the trees and shrubs. A couple of rats scurried around a bin and glass doors opened and shut automatically. The pigeons, exhausted after their long flight, instinctively swooped down where a half eaten burger lay on the ground. Taking a huge bite, Lulu shook her head to tear off a manageable piece. Iridesco and Dove grasped the other side and filled their beaks with greasy meat and white spongy bread soaked in ketchup. They had been excited to see all of the foods they recognised from the city but after several days of eating grains and raw vegetables the burgers tasted sweet and sickly. Lulu flew up to the mossy roof tiles and sucked up water to get rid of the taste.

Roger had given them instructions to find the sign of the golden wings and head round the back to a ventilation shaft that ran the entire length of the building. They should walk along the tunnel past five turnings. At the sixth they were to take twelve paces forward and knock the air vent with their beaks in a complicated rhythm that Princess Noodles would recognise.

The golden wings stood seven feet tall on poles that jutted out of the tiled roof. Below them, windows enclosed a red plastic seating area and ball pool now deserted by the groundlings.  However, a long queue waited in line outside, yellow and black tape marking their position on the ground.

The pigeons nervously entered the dark tunnel, their footsteps echoing in the eerie silence.  Iridesco walked slowly down past the first turning. His heart was pounding in his chest and the sound seemed to fill his ears. They carried on, each anxiously turning and casting their eyes around them.

The light from the entrance had vanished now and the strangely melodic sound of the wind blowing through the pipes replaced the silence. This was unfamiliar territory; if a cat or other predator attacked them here there would be no way out.

At the sixth turning they edged forward, each making a mental note of the number of steps they had taken. The air vent was exactly twelve paces down the tunnel but had been blocked up with a piece of greasy cardboard. On the card were  symbols that reminded Iridesco of The Magic Wok in Brighton. 

They paused to listen. Behind the board, muffled pigeon voices could be heard. Their dialect was unrecognisable but one voice stood out above all the others. Its high pitched tone appeared to be giving orders to the other birds.

Iridesco steadied his shaking beak and knocked on the cardboard. Almost instantaneously, a hatch opened and a grey head peered out.

Dove spoke first, “We’ve come to see Princess Noodles. Roger sent us.”

They listened to the sound of several heavy objects being pushed away from the entrance and finally the cardboard was slid to one side by a small serious looking bird. Inside was a sumptuous nest.

The interior was no larger than a dog kennel but reddish- pink light glowed through cellophane sweet wrappers that had been stuck over holes with chewing gum. The floor was a noodle box flattened out so that gold Chinese lettering faced upwards. Around the walls, coffee-stirrers stained with cherry cola created a woven screen. From the retail outlets below, the throb of extractor fans and the scent of spicy noodles made the air heavy and overpowering.

Princess Noodles sat majestically in a take away box. Four wooden chopsticks supported a canopy over her nest and a muscular pigeon stood on either side; one flexed his powerful wings, the other stood still as a statue, his face an inscrutable mask. Lulu noticed that these pigeon guards had one thing in common: the outer digit on their left claw was missing.

“Come in.” smiled Princess Noodles, her expression enigmatic as a temple dancer. “So you are friends of Roger?”

The pigeons nodded nervously. Even Dove, usually confident and outspoken seemed wary.

Princess Noodles raised a beautifully manicured claw and beckoned Dove forward. Touching the side of her face, she tilted her profile to the dying light that glowed through the sweet wrappers.

“So pretty.” she mused.

With a click of her claws the cardboard flap opened and in came a small bird. His angular features suggested that he was a street tough kid that would do anything for a price. Princess Noodles barked some orders in an unintelligible tongue and he disappeared.

“Sit down. Sit down. How is Roger? I haven’t seen him for a long time.” she smiled, as though recalling a distant memory.

The street wise pigeon soon returned with a bag of rice, peas and bean shoots. Lulu noticed that the outer digit of his left claw was also missing. At the scent of soy sauce and ginger, Lulu, Dove and Iridesco suddenly realised how hungry they were and fell upon the food like starving tramps.

“Ah, I met Roger in Chinatown, many years ago. Every night in the casino. We win plenty. Not so easy now. I still like a little flutter: fruit machines, scratch cards...” she trailed off, sighing dreamily.

Iridesco wondered how pigeons could take pleasure from gambling. He had seen groundlings mechanically placing coins into slot machines on the pier. Their eyes glazed over as they pulled handles and thumped buttons until coins spewed out into a tray below. They would then gather their winnings in a cardboard cup and repeat the process over and over again until their money had vanished.  

It was Dove who asked the question, “But how can we pigeons gamble?”

Noodles broke into a smile “Let me show you.”

She led them down a narrow shaft that fell vertically into the arcade. Although there was a heavy bolted grille over the glass shop front, the fruit machines were still lit up, displaying images of palm trees, gangsters and fast cars. 

Hopping down onto one of the nearest machines, Lulu flapped her wings frantically in order to steady herself; the sloping plastic surface made it impossible to perch. Eventually she alighted on a chrome and vinyl stool, and settled down to watch Princess Noodles explain the joys of gambling.

“This one is the best.” Noodles stated enthusiastically.

 Jumping up onto the top of the machine she flicked a switch and the screen lit up, revealing images of cherries, bells and lemons. With lightning speed her beautiful beak smashed buttons and levers. With each action she glanced up, intently watching the movements of the symbols that whirled in a streak of colours, slowing down and finally stopping with three bells lined up across the screen. At that moment electronic music filled the stuffy air and coins clattered into a tray below. 

Dove opened her beak in delight and instinctively took a coin from the tray. She flew up to the slot, carefully placing it in position and releasing it. Soon she and Princess Noodles were in a gambling trance, mesmerised by the buzzing machine. 

Iridesco flew over to the stool and sat next to Lulu. He sat very close to her and watched the streaks of colours swirling round and around in front of them. Reflected in the plastic, Lulu could see the iridescent feathers on his chest shimmer green and mauve. His claw moved over slightly and touched hers and they remained there, each lost in their own thoughts. 

“Now they shut all this down. No gambling...groundlings all touching money and buttons...not hygienic...even massage chair gone... just take away food now...You want more noodles?”

The pigeons shook their beaks. The sticky oriental sauce and the scraps of burger had left them gasping for a drink and they longed for the cool air outside. In the arcade, acrylic carpets and neon signs coated in dust seemed to hem them in and they both felt desperately claustrophobic.

Princess Noodles sensed their tiredness and showed them to the guesthouse. It was the perfect place to bed down for the night. Behind a curtain of pink plastic beads, a second corridor led to a chamber that had been lined with grass. The mesh on the side was loose and could be slid across to reveal the night sky. 

The moon glowed through the mottled clouds, projecting an eerie golden ring onto the canvas of the sky. In the trucks parked up around the buildings, drivers snored or watched action movies on screens in their cabs.

The pigeons looked around for a source of water. In the darkness it was almost impossible to see where they might get a drink and none of them could sleep without it. Then Lulu spied something that made her heart leap. Below them, the car park spread as far as they could see but just beneath their nest, a quivering moon reflected back up at them: a puddle. 

“Hey Iri, get us a drink.” she said lazily, gesturing towards the tarmac.

Not wanting to be bossed about by Lulu, he yawned and settled down for a sleep, “Get it yerself.”

Angrily, Lulu swooped towards the puddle, her beak already open in anticipation. She was soon supping up the deliciously cold water and gulped it down before taking a mouthful to squirt in Iridesco’s face. She’d teach him! Just then, a crunching noise caused her to look up. Rolling towards her a huge truck wheel bore down, blocking out everything.

Iridesco and Dove screamed in unison but it was too late. The truck had parked directly over the puddle and the driver opened the door and jumped down, holding a wash bag and toothbrush. After stretching and throwing a towel around his neck, he walked across the car park in the direction of the service station.

The desperate pigeons flew down onto the ground, hopelessly pecking at the enormous tyre and flitting around the gravel. The night was silent other than a radio playing country music in the petrol station.   When the driver returned, he climbed back into the cab and closed a curtain around the windscreen. A furry pink gorilla swayed from the rear view mirror, its moronic expression taunting them.

Iridesco didn’t know how long he spent tearing at the tyre. As the shadows of night receded, Princess Noodles’ two bodyguards picked him up and dragged him onto the grass verge. Resting a muscular claw on his shoulder one of the burly guards tried to console him.

“I’m sorry. She was a great girl.”

Iridesco wiped his face with his wing. “It was my fault. I shouldn’t have let her go. She was...she was just...the best ...” He trailed off as the early morning traffic rumbled past.

“She was just so funny and beautiful.” Iridesco remembered Lulu’s crazy stories outside the dovecote and her face sleepily watching him in the mews in Brighton. He had never really had a chance to get to know her properly and now he never would.