Chorley goes flying (8)

It was an ordinary Tuesday morning. Chorley was sitting on the roof of the shed with Boris and Alan, the two fat wood pigeons.

Chorley on the shed.

It was a cold and crisp Autumn day. The sky was bright blue and the leaves on the trees were just starting to turn russet brown.

Autumn leaves.

‘So what’s it like to fly?’ asked Chorley, licking his whiskers.

‘It’s great,’ said Boris. ‘You just stretch out your wings, give them a flap and off you go.’

‘Yes, and once you’re up there, you can see for miles and miles,’ said Alan. ‘And if you see someone below you, you can drop things on their head!’

‘Like what?’ asked Chorley. 

‘Well, the other day I dropped a muffin on Ernie’s head. Just as a joke you understand. Oh how he laughed!’

‘What did he say to that then?’ asked Chorley.

‘Oh, you know, the usual, ‘Muffins, doughnuts, barm cakes and Wensleydale’, or something like that. I haven’t got a clue what he’s talking about half the time.’

‘I wish I could fly,’ said Chorley with a sigh, ‘it sounds like a lot of fun!’

Chorley was just imagining himself flying around in the sky, when ......

‘Harrow – what’s going on here then?’ said Chorley.

‘Didn’t you see the notice outside the pub?’ said Boris. ‘There’s bungy jumping this evening at six o’clock in the car park. That’s the big bungy crane.’

‘What’s bungy jumping?’ asked Chorley.

‘It helps people to fly – they tie a big rubber band around your middle, winch you up to the top of the big crane and then you jump off and fly through the air until, ‘BOIIIINNNNNNGGGGGGG’ you reach the bottom of the band and bounce back up again. If you want to fly Chorley, you should give it a go!’

‘Hmmmm, maybe,’ said Chorley shaking his ears. The little bell on his red collar tinkled with excitement.

By the time the hands on the clock face had moved round to six o’clock, Chorley was in the queue waiting his turn to bungy jump. But word had spread and the queue stretched all the way around the one-way system in the village.

Chorley was still a growing kitten, which meant that he got hungry – a lot! Six o’clock was tea time. As the queue edged its way forward he found himself outside Pany’s chip shop.

‘Allo Chorley,’ said Mister Poppolopodos, the chip shop owner. ‘Is yew going to do the throwing body into sky thingy?’ 

‘Hello Mister Poppolopodos. Yes, I’ve been talking to Boris and Alan, the fat wood pigeons, and they say that flying is brilliant, so I’m going to give it a go. But its tea time and I’ve not had my meaty chunks yet. I’m so hungry and it’s making me feel a bit funny.’

Chorley hadn't had his meaty chunks!

‘Not be worrying Chorley,’ said Mr Poppolopodos. ‘Here is large battered sausage and onion rings to fill belly basket. Salting and vinegar?’

‘Wow yes please – thank you. Yum yum.’

Chorley wolfed down the large battered sausage and onion rings, rubbing his tummy and licking the grease from his whiskers.

By the time he’d finished his chippy tea, Chorley had almost reached the front of the queue. In front of him in the line were Disco Dave and all members of the ‘orange family.’

The crowd waiting for Disco Dave to jump from the crane.

Disco Dave had got specially dressed up for the occasion. Gone were his light blue denim jeans and jacket. Instead he’d dug out his best white wedding suit, spotty yellow tie and pulled his long grey hair back into a pony tail to stop it from flopping into his eyes when he jumped off the bungy crane.

Disco Dave waved to the crowd below as he was winched high up above the houses. When the crate finally reached the top, the crowd below counted him down.

‘Five.’

‘Four.’

‘Three.’

‘Two.’

‘One.’

‘AGGGAAADOOOOOOOO!’ shouted Disco Dave as he stretched out his arms, jumped head first and performed a perfect swan dive, before reaching the bottom of the rope and bouncing back up again.

‘Well done Disco Dave,’ shouted the crowd as Dave was lowered gently to the floor.

Next it was the turn of the ‘orange family’ who were all wearing big orange crash helmets.

‘We’re all going together. All three of us,’ said the ‘orange woman’ through her visor.

With that, the ‘orange family’ were winched up all together in the crane. When they got to the top, the bungy rope was wound tightly round all of them. The two ‘orange sons’ and ‘orange mother’ put down the visors on their crash helmets and as the crowd counted back from five, they gave an enthusiastic thumbs up sign.

‘MAAAGGGGGAAAALUUUUUFFFFFFFF!’ screamed the ‘orange family’ as they belly flopped their way through the air, bouncing back up again like a trio of giant rag dolls. They were beaming as they were lowered back to the ground.

‘That was wicked!’ said one of the ‘orange sons.’

‘Brilliant!’ said the other.

‘Cracking!’ said the ‘orange woman,’ looking for her teeth in the flower beds.

Next it was Chorley’s turn and he was starting to feel a little bit nervous. He was also starting to feel a little bit sick. He wished he hadn’t eaten the large battered sausage and onion rings now.

‘Come on Chorley,’ said the ‘Bungy Man’, I haven’t got all night.

Chorley got gingerly into the crane’s basket. Flying didn’t seem like such a good idea now. 

‘Maybe I’ll just go up and have a look at the view and then come back down again,’ he said to no one in particular.

Suddenly there was a flurry of feathers as Boris and Alan, the fat wood pigeons landed on the top rail of the crane’s basket. 

‘It’s really, really high up here,’ whispered Chorley.

‘It’s great,’ said Boris. ‘Look, you can see right across the roof tops to the Mersey River.’

‘I can’t do it!’ Chorley did a little onion ring burp!

‘Of course you can. Where’s that brave nearly grown up kitten who isn’t afraid of anything?’ said Alan. ‘Come on, we’ll do it with you.’

‘But you’ve got wings,’ said Chorley, sticking out his bottom lip.

Still, he had to hand it to them, the view once they got to the top was amazing. He could practically see Blackpool Tower.

Down below the crowd started counting him down.

‘Five. Four. Three. Two. One ....... JUMP CHORLEY, JUMP!’

‘Come on,’ said Boris and Alan. We’ll be with you.

With that, Chorley shook his ears, took a deep breath and jumped into the black space below.

‘PILCHARDS AND PRUUUUUUUUNNNNNNSSSSSS,’ yelled Chorley as he left his stomach behind and flew though the air.

‘This is great,’ said Chorley as he swooped down head first, the wind in his fur, with Boris flying on one side and Alan flying on the other. ‘WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!’

Down below, the crowd could hear him, but because Chorley had dark black fur, they couldn’t see him. All they could see were the reflective strips on his little red collar which sparkled in the street lights.

Here comes Chorley in his fluorescent collar.

When Chorley finally stopped bouncing back up and down, he was lowered gently back to earth and onto all four paws.

‘Well done Chorley,’ shouted the crowd. 

‘Yes, well done,’ said the ‘orange woman’, I know you were scared, but you did it anyway. 

‘Yes I was scared,’ said Chorley wobbling off, ‘but I had Boris and Alan to help me.’

Chorley knew that he was very lucky. Not only did he have some really good friends, but he was the only nearly grown up kitten he’d heard of who knew how to fly!