Ep 7: The Code of Honour

24 MINS

‘Suck Seed!’ Iridesco manages to escape but can he find his way back to the flock? A revelation about his father makes him realise that there is something he must do to save his friends.

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 7: The Code of Honour

Iridesco continued to gaze at the screen. It was as though he had found some missing pieces of a puzzle. He remembered that long ago his father had told stories of vast cities; flocks of green paraqueets, dramatic cliffs and snowy hillsides. Maybe George’s stories had been true. He looked carefully at the faces of the pigeons in the photograph. They looked young and happy, their beaks open as if sharing a joke. So he had been named after his father’s friend. He wondered who the other pigeons were. 

Over on the bed, Bill coughed and wheezed, pulling the cape further over his head. Bullseye jumped onto the foot of the bed and after turning around and scratching the blanket, lay down with a sigh and fell asleep.

Iridesco must have eventually fallen asleep but was awakened by the sound of Bullseye whining to go out. Bill still lay in his bed but looked grey and exhausted. His breathing was loud and raspy. Hearing Bullseye, he wearily climbed out of the bed and steadied himself. Pushing down on his knees with his big hands he staggered over to the door. He struggled to unbolt it but soon gave up, turning back and sitting down to gasp for air.

Bill opened his eyes slightly and closed them. “S’pose I better call the doctor.” He said, casting his eyes around for his phone. It was evening now. The room was dark except for the luminous glow of the alarm clock. Bill felt for the light switch and flicked it on. A flash and then darkness. He shakily reached for a box of matches and lit a candle in a jar on the table. Iridesco flapped his wings nervously and the caravan filled with the smell of the match and huge shadows of phantom pigeons. It was completely silent outside. 

 An owl hooted in the distance and a fog horn sounded far out at sea. Bill seemed to be getting worse. His face was now flushed and sweaty and his breathing was interrupted by fits of coughing. Iridesco wondered what would happen if no one found them. Mostly he wondered what Lulu and his friends would think. Would they assume he had given up on them? He had to get out. He would just have to keep trying until he found a way.

A catch prevented the window from being opened. He placed his beak around it and pulled it as hard as he could. It reminded him of the sunflower seeds on the boat. This one was wedged in tightly. He placed his beak further around the lever and pulled it with all his strength. The plastic moved fractionally in the frame. Stopping to regain his strength he grasped the catch again and wedged his claws against the wall, pushing his whole body against it. Suddenly it shot across the room, hitting the wall opposite and dropping to the floor. Iridesco pushed his beak into the gap between the window and the frame. Squeezing through the opening, he flew outside and onto the roof. Twenty or thirty other caravans were parked around Bill’s home. Some had fences or pots of plants around them. He flew along each row, peering into the windows and hoping to see someone he could alert. He had no idea how he would make them understand him but he needn’t have worried; no one was there.

He flew along the coast as fast as he could, the landmarks were unfamiliar to him but he sensed he had travelled east when he had been washed into the sea. As the sun came up he passed stretches of sand that swept into dunes specked with marram grass. Slatted wooden pathways led to boarded up cafes and empty car parks. He kept flying all day; past meandering rivers and abandoned houses that perched on the edge of cliffs. Stretches of countryside were replaced by modern bungalows or Victorian terraces and rickety piers. Still he recognised nothing yet he felt he was getting closer to home.

By late afternoon he started to make out the masts of yachts in a marina. It was still a long way off but he felt a surge of excitement and hope at the possibility of seeing his friends. He flew on, gaining speed and flapping his wings steadily. 

The creamy cliffs beneath him sprouted with wild flowers and the tide was low now, revealing pools of pink anemones and pock-shelled olive coloured crabs that scuttled under rocks. The afternoon sunlight warmed his feathers and a light wind blew from the east, making it easier to fly. He swooped down onto the short rabbit-cropped grass on the cliff top and rested for a second to think about what he needed to do next.

If he could make it to the mews before darkness he would gather as many pigeons together as possible and persuade them to return to Bill’s caravan. He still didn’t know how he would open the door but maybe a plan would come to him on the way. 

 It was still light when he reached the Palace Pier and embarked on the last mile of his journey. The streets were even more silent than usual and the doorways and windows were shut. Cooking smells drifted from inside the houses and flats, making his stomach rumble. He soon reached the i360 and turned inland.

At that moment the town seemed to come alive. Doors swung open, windows pushed up, sliding doors opened onto balconies and a cacophony of clapping, banging and whistles filled the air. He felt as though he were being pushed off course by the great wall of sound.  He had been heading home but instinctively he turned towards the sea and perched on the rusting skeleton of the old pier. 

Waiting anxiously for the noise to subside he watched the waves swirling beneath him and the gulls bobbing about on the surface. For a second he remembered his dream about huge waves and  desperate cries; he shuddered to himself.

Eventually it grew quiet and Iridesco flew towards home. He passed Embassy Court and turned into the mews.  Big Daddy and Little Chick stood outside the house and the pigeons sat on the rooftops watching inquisitively. Big Daddy went inside and soon emerged with a handful of bird seed. Without waiting for it to be scattered on the ground, the hungry pigeons jumped down onto the paving and jostled for a position closest to the source of food.  Iridesco noticed Dove first, her grey plumage and dark eyes marked her out from the other birds. Roma was with her, his tall skinny body weaving in and out of the flock.

 Iridesco recognised some of the other birds too. Although a lot of the youngsters had disappeared, a few familiar faces were there. Then he spotted Ma on one of the window sills.

Most of the pigeons were too engrossed in picking out seeds to notice him when he flew down into the courtyard. He looked up at Ma and saw her face light up with recognition. Ma leapt up and flew lightly down beside him. She looked better than ever. Her eyes shone and her feathers fluffed out in the evening air.

“Iridesco, Just look at you!” she skipped around him, looking him up and down approvingly.

“You’re not looking too bad yourself.” he smiled, “How did you get back?”

“It’s a long story but they gave me some powerful groundling magic. I was worried about you. There was a storm and... well, we thought you might have...”

“Yes. That’s a long story too. Which I need to talk to you about...” Iridesco soon had the whole flock gathered around him. By the time he had finished he realised he was exhausted. He had flown all day and despite the urgency of the situation he would not be able to carry on if he didn’t rest. Roma and Dove offered to organise the rescue mission while he slept for a while.

He flew up onto the upstairs window sill and closed his eyes. From inside the house he could hear a radio play about sea monsters, sirens and storms that smashed ships to pieces against jagged rocks. Soon he began to fall asleep and the story mixed with his dreams.

In the distance he saw Lulu perched on the roof of the Meeting Place Cafe. The sea sparkled beneath him but it was alive with monsters: giant squid and clams bobbed around in the rolling waves. He tried to fly towards her but he kept getting blown further out to sea. She was calling him from the shore but her words were lost on the wind. He tried once again to flap his wings but something was holding him down. He struggled and pecked but whatever held him would not budge.

“That’s it. Got you. Hold still little fella.”

He woke up and looked around in confusion. From inside the house a pair of hands had snatched him from the window sill and were carrying him towards the bathroom. The window shut behind him and then Little Chick passed him to Big Daddy. Little Chick went across to the kitchen drawers and started rummaging around. In the corner the big dream box flickered and the sound of gun shots and cars screeching filled the room.

She came back with a pair of scissors.

“Now Daddy. Just hold him still while I get this off his leg. He’s got caught up in some kind of wire. It’s all twisted round his foot...”

She snipped at the wire and uncurled it until the straw could be slipped off.

“Hey, there’s something inside here. It’s got some writing on it.”

By the time Iridesco was let out of the house it was dark. The mews were deserted and all of the groundlings were huddled around their dream boxes. He searched the rooftops desperately. Then he caught sight of Ma. 

“Iri, are you okay?”

“I think so. Where is everyone?”

“They are flying east now. Eddie thought he knew where this caravan was and Dove and Roma gathered some other birds. They left just as the sun went down. I stayed here to let you know what was going on. What happened to your dad’s leg band?”

Iridesco looked away. He didn’t want Ma to know why he had thrown it away. Maybe he had been wrong but it was too late to get it back.

“He said some things...before he died.  About my mum. He told me he had let her down. I just didn’t want to be reminded of it.”

Ma sighed. “Your dad had nothing to be ashamed of. It was just the way he was. He was a racer. A homing pigeon.  All pigeons are fast flyers, and all pigeons return home, but homing pigeons are bred to be the best and they never dessert their families.” She paused before continuing.

 “Your father was taken away from your mother and driven to Paris. He had to get back to her across the channel and there was a storm. Well it was almost impossible but he did it. The only problem was that she had somehow escaped and gone looking for him. He searched and searched for her and eventually heard that she was sick and recovering in Brighton. He found his way here but he was too late. You were just a baby. You hatched here in the mews and I brought you up as my own. 

 George never got over it. He stayed with you and he loved you but he could never talk about it. He blamed himself even though he had done everything he could to find her. He named you after her... Iris, and his best friend, Dessy.”

Iridesco was astonished. He wished he still had the chance to talk to his father about his mum but it felt as though a huge weight had been lifted from his mind. George was a hero, not a traitor! Iridesco’s thoughts turned to Bill and Bullseye. He needed to be a hero or they would die in a deserted caravan park. Would it be too late to catch up with the other birds?

Speeding back along the coast he passed the Palace Pier, now dark and deserted, and flew on towards the marina. Halyards chinked like wind chimes against the masts and the waves lapped up against the jetties. Iridesco was used to the quieter world that this groundling plague had brought about but something else had changed.

As a bird, he was conscious of the wildlife around him. At the marina, cormorants often perched between the yachts and fishing boats; swans would glide around moorings closer to the shore. In crevices high up in the chalk cliff, pigeons and sparrows made nests and starlings snoozed in huge flocks under the pier.

Tonight it felt as though every bird in England had vanished.  He looked out across the moonlit sea and wondered what other strange occurrences lay in wait for him. As he flew on further east a dark cloud drifted across from the fields, blocking out the stars. The cloud seemed to change shape constantly, widening and becoming lighter then narrowing into a dense coal-black comet. Iridesco flew on, heading further out to sea. He knew now that he was fast and could probably catch up with the other pigeons. He hoped he would find Roma, Dove and the rest of the flock but this thing seemed to be moving towards him.

He turned inland again and followed the coast, watching out for the pigeons from the mews. A headland jutted out to sea and a light pulsated on the top of the cliff. As he turned the corner the black cloud appeared ahead of him. It spread out until he was surrounded by claws, great feathery wings and hooked black beaks.

“Caw, caw, caw.”

“Yeah!”

“So Iridesco’s come to save the day!

 And lead a flock of pigeons flying east

To find a groundling trapped without delay 

And help him and his furry barking beast.”

Iridesco looked into the dense cloud of crows and recognised the bird who had challenged Roger at the dovecote.  It seemed the whole world was conspiring against him.

“What do you want?” he sighed, flying on through the jeering crows.

“We come to help as bird to bird must do.

Our code of honour states ‘in times of need’.

We will but guide thee, trust our word is true,

To carry out this great and noble deed.”

George had told stories of this code of honour. Like the legend of the phoenix, it had been entertaining but hardly something to be believed. Iridesco wondered if it was necessary to answer in rhyme. If so, he didn’t feel up to the task. He flew on, joining the crowd of crows. 

If he had doubted them it would have been impossible to have said so. He rounded the lighthouse and saw what he had been searching for. When he had left Brighton he had imagined catching up with Dove and Roma, Eddie and maybe some of the other birds from around the mews. However, this was something he had never anticipated. A huge cloud of birds filled the sky. In the centre of the flock thousands of pigeons flapped their wings steadily, each focusing on the bird in front. Around them and above, gulls of every type swooped and screeched like sheep dogs keeping the flock in check. Wrens, sparrows and other small birds flitted below them and crows clumped together in rowdy gangs, chatting and laughing to each other, enjoying the combination of power and anarchy that being part of this mission meant.

The starlings carried on much the same as they always did. Being used to flying in huge numbers they morphed into shapes, rolling over then under the giant flock. At the back, magpies and the occasional woodpecker exhaustedly struggled to keep up.

 Iridesco’s heart surged with joy and he flapped harder, forcing himself to pass the other birds and search for his friends. From a distance he could make out the pale grey body of Dove and the angular dark features of Roma. Eddie was slightly further ahead, his strong wings beating the air as he scanned the coast for the caravan park.

As Iridesco caught up he called out to him and pointed his beak in the direction of the caravans. They were just east of the sand dunes where the shingle beach began and sea kale grew amongst the fishermen’s huts. The caravans were parked behind a metal fence just up from the beach.

As the birds swooped down the sun was just coming up over the horizon. It cast long shadows across the park. Iridesco soon spotted Bill’s caravan and swooped down to the open window. Pushing his body through the gap he landed on the table. The candle was now just a pool of liquid wax with the remains of the wick floating on the surface. The white satin cape was pulled up over Bill’s lifeless body and his mouth hung open. Iridesco hopped onto Bill’s chest and stretched his head up under his nose.  He sat completely still. Putting his head to one side he looked carefully up into his nostrils. The hairs seemed to be moving ever so slightly. Under his claws Bill’s chest rattled as he breathed in. Bullseye lay with his paws out on his master’s leg. He barked at the sight of Iridesco but was too hungry to get up.

As more and more birds funnelled into the caravan it wobbled from side to side and Bullseye cowered on the corner of the bed.  He flew up to the bolt on the door and tried to pull it across with his beak. The other birds joined in. As the caravan wobbled a sudden smash sent molten wax flying across the table and the burning remains of the wick onto the cushion. Within seconds orange flames leapt up, fanned by the flapping wings of hundreds of terrified birds.

Iridesco frantically heaved at the bolt but it was useless. Black smoke filled the caravan. Bullseye hid beneath the table and the pigeons and other birds descended to the floor, gasping for clean air. The situation was hopeless but then a single bird pushed up through the smoke and flames. Its wings were specked with sparks of fire and its hooked beak plunged straight through the terrible heat. The phoenix!  Lunging at the bolted door it clasped the hot metal in its beak and tore it to one side. The door sprung open and birds, dog and smoke poured out onto the grass.

Outside sirens blared as fire crews appeared and an ambulance took Bill to the hospital while Bullseye was led away by a neighbour. 

The last of the birds were still flying into the caravan park but now they were perching on vans or pecking around the grass searching for food. Some of the groundlings had brought bird seed and were scattering it around; others filled containers with water from drinking bottles. Whole families came, bringing their children and pointing out the window in the caravan and the gap the birds had flown through to rescue Bill.

As Iridesco sat alone on the grass he felt another bird fly down beside him. Turning around he saw Lulu. He felt nervous. It had been a long time since he had seen her last and he wasn’t sure how she felt about him. He looked into her eyes and she looked back and smiled.

“That was amazing.” she said.

“Yeah, it was pretty cool.” 

She looked at him, not really sure what to say next. Then they both started to speak at once.  Damn...there was only one thing for it...sumo wrestling.

She hooked her leg under his and pushed with all her might. He pressed down on her with his shoulder and braced his leg against the ground, obstinately refusing to budge. Neither one moved. Then Lulu relaxed, sending Iridesco rolling over her, still clinging on. They landed on the shingle beach below the caravan park and he kissed her passionately. 

 “Iri, quick, it’s the phoenix!” a young squab flew over to where they stood and beckoned them to follow.

 On the grass, the phoenix lay motionless. It looked smaller now, with its feathers charred and its beak blackened and still smouldering from holding the metal bolt. The tail that had crackled with golden flames now resembled a bunch of twigs and its poor eyes were closed forever. In the early morning light it was clear that this was no phoenix but an ordinary pigeon. The claws flopped limply on the wet grass and one wing lay slightly open while the other was closed up against his body.

“Eddie!” Iridesco stared in disbelief. Thinking back to their escape from the caravan he remembered seeing him lunge forward, his feathers on fire. He had sacrificed his own life to save them. The other birds gathered around in a circle, silently mourning the loss of their brother. He thought back to the stories he had been told about Eddie fighting with seagulls and dodging buses. His fearlessness had been legendary and now he had seen it with his own eyes. He would never be forgotten.

It was the gulls who acted first. Lifting Eddie carefully with their beaks, they carried him to the shore and wrapped him in a blanket of seaweed. Silently the birds took to the sky and flew back along the coast until they reached the cliffs that looked out onto the sea. Eddie’s body was placed on a sheltered ledge high up above the waves. As each bird passed, it placed something on the ledge: soft grass, silvery heather, feathers, shells and flowers. In years to come, the story of Eddie’s heroic death would become part of pigeon lore and baby pigeons would be named after him for years to come.

The next day, Dove sat on the window sill of number 6 Sillwood Mews. She looked inside as the groundlings looked at the flickering screen.

(Newsround music plays)

“And finally the extraordinary story of a man whose life has been saved by a homing pigeon.”

Dove called over to the rest of the flock and they fluttered over to see what was up. They craned their necks and listened intently as the newsreader continued.

“Yesterday morning, a flock of almost ten thousand birds was sighted flying into Happy Valley Caravan Park in Camber Sands. It is believed that the birds broke into a caravan in order to rescue a 56 year old man suffering from Covid 19.

Whilst it is still unclear how or why the birds acted in this way , experts cite many examples of animals coming to the aid of humans in times of crisis.

In an even stranger twist in this bizarre story, ambulance crews were able to trace the sick man after the pigeon delivered a message to a house in Brighton where the alarm was raised.

The newsreader smiled and turned to a screen.

“Yes Kirsty, I’m here in Downing Street where Boris Johnson is expected to make a statement about this extraordinary event. Indeed, the door of number 10 is opening now and the prime minister is here to address the nation.”

“Good Morning. Yesterday’s events mark an historic turning point in relations between the people of Britain and our feathered friends. Indeed, it is thaks to the effort and sensible behaviour of these birds that this vulnerable individual has been saved from a terrible fate.

In the city of London alone, many draconian measures have made birds’ lives intolerable.  So, as a means of honouring these noble creatures, I urge you to protect and care for pigeons living amongst us; they are our allies and our friends. 

As the dawn breaks, a curtain goes up on a new act in this great drama...”

Dove sighed and started to pick something out of her claw.

To commemorate their selflessness, a statue will be erected in Trafalgar Square and the kiosk will be reinstated by royal charter. Not as a single species but as brothers united in the face of adversity, pigeons and humans will survives and succeed together.

This time even Iridesco frowned.

“Suck seed?”said Iridesco.

“It means they’ve turned granivorous!”piped up Dove excitedly.

THE END