The Flights and Plights of Benedict: The Racing Pigeon

By Anne Marie Sciberras

The Flights and Plights of Benedict: The Racing Pigeon is a book about a young royal racing pigeon living a hard, unfulfilling life. I mean, if you think youre having a bad day, have you ever considered what life is like for a racing pigeon? To be left in the middle of nowhere, being able to rely only on your own instincts under the banner of racing? I can assure you, it isnt a life for the fainthearted. No sooner have you gotten home from a race then youre being sent away again from your loved onesand who knows if youll return this time. And if youre a royal racing pigeon, the expectations that are placed upon you are most unfair. But after suffering a terrible tragedy, Benedict isnt happy to stay living under the control of his cruel master, and he is determined to show his fellow pigeons that life can be better. Unwavering in his beliefs, he sets himself a mission to prove that not all humans are nasty and greedy. Along the way, after many setbacks, he discovers help and hospitality can come from the most unusual of suspects. But will it be enough to alter his grim destiny?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris AU
• Release date: Jan 12, 2017
• ISBN: 9781524520830

Anne Marie Sciberras

This is Anne Marie’s second book published with Xlibris, and after six years, it is with much pleasure that she presents her new novel, The Flights and Plights of Benedict the Racing Pigeon, to her valued readers. With her meticulous nature of writing, she paints the scenery in a way that makes you feel that you’re right there among the setting of her book. The light-hearted storyline shares many hidden messages on how to survive in very difficult circumstances. It highlights that in desperate times, you really can change the course of your life, still ever being faithful to your beliefs. Anne Marie shows that future possibilities for all dreamers are endless, particularly when they are mixed with self-belief and perseverance.

Book preview

Copyright © 2017 by Anne Marie Sciberras.

Library of Congress Control Number:   2016921306

ISBN:      Hardcover      978-1-5245-2085-4

                Softcover       978-1-5245-2084-7

                eBook            978-1-5245-2083-0

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Rev. date: 01/12/2017

Xlibris

1-800-455-039

www.Xlibris.com.au

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CONTENTS

Chapter One Cruel Beginnings

Chapter Two Today’s the Day

Chapter Three Tagging

Chapter Four Sergio the Love God

Chapter Five Promises Are Promises

Chapter Six The Visitor

Chapter Seven The Dreaded Pigeon Club

Chapter Eight The Pains of Waiting

Chapter Nine It’s Now or Never

Chapter Ten Dark Times

Chapter Eleven Short and Sweet

Chapter Twelve Influences

Chapter Thirteen Wheeling and Dealing

Chapter Fourteen Plan B

Chapter Fifteen Party Time Rogue Style

Chapter Sixteen Up Up and Away

Chapter Seventeen Timing

Chapter Eighteen The Swapping Tale

Chapter Nineteen Gossip

Chapter Twenty True Colours

Chapter Twenty-One Bomb’s Away

Chapter Twenty-Two The Upside

CHAPTER ONE

CRUEL BEGINNINGS

F rom birth, Tommy Fallon was practically spoon fed hatred every day for breakfast, lunch and tea, enduring daily beatings from his cruel father and being forced by his twisted mother to sleep outside every night in a cold, damp tool shed whilst his only other sibling slept inside in cosy fluffed and puffed bedding.

As a young boy, every day Tommy escaped from home in any way he could to avoid being beaten. He’d run down to a quiet, secluded block of land that was vacant and not far from where he lived. Climbing a lonely, old willow tree that stood there unmatched in its majesty, giving him a birds eye view, enabling the unfortunate child to catch precious moments of peace and serenity. Upon discovering his son’s habit, Tommy’ father realised that the only way he could keep Tommy at home for good was to bribe him. That’s when he introduced Tommy to the wonderful world of pigeon racing.

For the first time in his life Tommy felt as though he belonged to something; he adopted the pigeons as his family. He would spend all of his time with them, looking after them to the best of his ability, with the modest rations of food and medicine he had been given by his father. Many of his elderly neighbours took pity on him and did their best to help him out where they could with his new-found hobby.

However, it didn’t take long for the unprovoked beatings to start again. One afternoon Tommy’ father violently smashed a large part of Tommy’s beloved pigeon loft into pieces. It was said that this was the moment that Tommy’ heart broke to such an extent that it never quite recovered, leaving it cracked and jagged.

On a separate occasion after school one day, Tommy came home to find his mother boiling some of his beloved, defenceless pigeons in a large soup cauldron for their dinner that night. Tommy was so mortified that he screamed and smashed a window with a kitchen chair but that only ended up in a severe beating from his incredibly horrible father, leaving him physically scarred across one cheek.

There were so many instances like these over the years that they seemed to desensitise poor little Tommy Fallon. Needless to say he didn’t have much hope of growing up to be anything but a horrible, nasty young man and unfortunately that is exactly what he became.

Yet Tommy Fallon wasn’t the only one who had had an off-putting start to life. In fact, life for a pigeon wasn’t much fun at all, especially if you weren’t from a good bloodline. From the day you were laid, your potential was already being judged. By the time you were hatched, your master had already decided whether he liked you or not. And if we’re going to be completely honest, pigeons as babies are really quite ugly. They’re not cute or fluffy like little yellow chickens. They’re more like nude little rats with rough goose bumps all over their skin, with two tiny black blobs for their eyes. At first their skin is so sallow and transparent you can actually see their half-digested food in the storage compartment nestled in the neck just under their soft beaks. It’s really quite disturbing and gruesome to look at, the kind of thing that only a mother hen could love.

Luckily for pigeons it doesn’t stay that way. Over time pigeon chicks evolve into the most incredibly dazzling birds. When they get their full set of flights they’re truly beautiful and ridiculously smart. What a racing pigeon does is like no other - their navigating abilities have left many generations astounded and I dare say probably will for many more years to come.

CHAPTER TWO

TODAY’S THE DAY

I ris was a royal champion. Over her short racing career she had produced impressive wins in some highly prestigious races. Now, what one must understand in this fanatical world of pigeon racing is that even a good pigeon can run into all sorts of trouble on its flight back home. It was for this reason that Tommy had only raced Iris a few times in her life, before sending her into an early retirement where she was kept purely for breeding.

This is where she fell head-over-claws for the love of her life, Winchester - or better known as Winny the Flying Bullet. The mere sight of Winchester commanded respect from every single pigeon in the loft, without him having to do very much for it at all, as his reputation spoke for itself. His ability to win races was by far the most impressive and it was clear to everyone that he was Tommy’ favourite. All the hens swooned over him, but being of pigeon royalty, he was exceptionally fussy when it came to choosing his wife. Tommy had paired him up with many hens over the racing seasons but he took to none of them; that is, until he met Iris. Everything changed for Winchester that day. Their connection was immediate and one that undoubtedly would last the test of time.

I guess I should explain that when a pigeon of a royal bloodline is to be born, the expectations and hopes placed upon the newborn are in fact so high that they’re almost impossible for any pigeon to achieve. Needless to say, the hatching of Iris and Winchester’s egg was going to be one of the biggest events that had ever come to pass within Mr Fallon’s loft.

The day started with a bitter frost, and dew covered almost everything outside. But when the sun broke through, it made even something as creepy as a spider web look mysteriously beautiful. Tommy was out early, as he was expecting his pride and joy to hatch this day. As Tommy was a very calculating person, he had an uncanny ability to predict exactly what day and hour a pigeon would be hatched. He had estimated that this very special pigeon would be hatched between 6:00am and 7:00am.

Whilst Iris was busy sitting on her egg, Winchester was impatiently pacing up and down the sectioned corridor of the loft. Even though he was somewhat frustrated, he was still gracious enough to accept the warm wishes that were being expressed by his fellow pigeons.

I bet he’s a male - he’ll be like a miniature version of you, Winchester, said one.

I bet it’s a hen - yes a beautiful hen, just like its mother, said another.

Well, I don’t know what it’s going to be but I bet it’s going to be a champion.

Of course, of course it is! With parents like that it can’t very well be a dud, now, can it!

That’s when Winchester decided to jump into the conversation, Hush, hush boys. I just want it to be happy and healthy - that’s all that matters to Iris and me, you know that.

"Of course, Winny, of course. We meant no disrespect, but it’s not every day a pigeon from two royal bloodlines is hatched. I guess we’re all just excited, that’s all.

Yes, yes - as am I, and I hope you don’t mind but I’m going to check on Iris to see if there’s been any movement.

One of the Elders, who were champion pigeons in retirement that were known for their wisdom, said, Ah boys, now there’s a proud father. In all my years - and they have been many - I have never seen our flying bullet in this state. It’s extraordinary how chicks can change our lives, boys - simply extraordinary.

The other Elders agreed. Too right, too right. I remember my glory years. They were truly bliss.

How are you getting on, Iris - has there been any movement?

Yes, I think it’s almost done. It certainly is a lively little chick, whatever it is. Winchester just laughed. Tommy kept coming over every so often to check on Iris.

I wish Tommy would just bugger off, he makes me terribly uncomfortable, Winny.

Here, I’ll sit in front of you to give you some extra privacy. For how great and important Winchester was, he truly was still a gentlemen through and through.

Not long after this, Iris felt some rather forceful movement coming from underneath her.

Winchester! Oh my goodness – Winny, I think this is it! Iris leapt off the egg so they could watch. As Iris and Winchester peered over the nest in their exclusive box, their egg began jumping around, rocking back and forth to and fro. Then with a swift movement, the first crack in the egg’s lining appeared. Soon a tiny little leg broke through clean, followed by the other. Almost immediately afterward the head itself broke through.

Oh my, Winny - it’s adorable gushed Iris, wanting to help her baby chick break through the rest of its shell.

No Iris, don’t help - this first grab for life must be done alone. Trust me, it’ll be all right. Winchester, along with many other champions, believed that the hatching process must be completed without any assistance from the mother. Parents used this as the first indicator to see how hungry for life their chick was going to be. If your baby chick needed assistance, it was deemed as a bit of a loser and in time would probably result in the chick developing into a sook or having ‘mother issues’ for the rest of its life - if it survived at all.

As Winchester restrained his wife from intervening, finally the chick broke entirely free of its shell. See, it did it all by itself. Good - very good. Now we can go to it.

Iris was first to thrust herself toward it, as the chick thought to itself, Wow! What’s that light piercing my eye sockets? Crikey, what’s that rough stuff under my feet? How come there’s no one here? I expected more. You mean to tell me I did all that work for nothing? Just as he finished the thought, Iris embraced her baby chick in a peppered frenzy of doting. Ah this is more like it - that must be Mum. She seems lovely but where’s Dad?

Oh Winny, it’s gorgeous - simply gorgeous!

It was then that the chick heard a deep voice say, What a little champion - look at how big he is. It’s got to be a boy.

Yes, Winny, it’s a boy.

Humans take weeks, sometimes evens months, to discover the gender of a pigeon but parents take only seconds. It is said that they have a sixth sense for that sort of thing.

So what shall we name him, Iris?

Well, it can’t be anything common or cheap. I think he looks like an ‘Albert’.

Albert? Oh Iris, dear, I love you to death but that’s simply an awful name! I had an uncle with that name and he was such an old wind-bag I simply couldn’t bear my son to have that name.

What do you suggest then?

As Winchester looked straight into his son’s face the baby chick thought, Oh gosh, Dad, don’t let Mum name me that stupid name, it sounds terrible! Please pick something else, anything else, just not that – please!

It needs to be something special. He’s incredibly built so he’ll need a name that’s strong and masculine, perhaps even a little regal. How about Benedict?

Benedict. Hmmm yes - that’s perfect, Winny, just perfect. Very fitting for our little champ.

And as Winchester petted him gently, Benedict fell asleep in the sweet caress of his father’s wings, happy but exhausted from all the work he had just done over the past twenty-four hours.

A baby pigeon, otherwise known as a squab, can’t open its eyes for the first several days of its life. An inquisitive Benedict opened his on the fourth. As he looked around the loft blinking, trying to adjust his eyes to the glare and brightness of the day, slowly the room came into focus.

Woo-oh, what’s all this? Who are these pigeons staring at me? Which one is my Mum?

As Iris approached him to identify herself from the pack, the other hens spoke amongst themselves, Look how robust he is, he looks just like his father.

Look at him observing everyone, he’s so clever.

Oh Iris is one lucky hen; she only had one but look at the size of him.

As Benedict scrambled underneath his mother to hide she softly whispered to him, Come, come now, Benedict, you must greet your guests. You’re a prince and we pride ourselves in this family on being approachable. There’s nothing to be afraid of, so when you’re ready please step forward. Benedict really didn’t want to meet everyone just yet, he was still trying to concentrate on how to focus on the same thing for more than a minute.

But as it was his mother asking, he rose to the occasion and staggered forward, a little unbalanced but humbly bowing his head to all the mother hens that had gathered around to see this little prince pigeon.

Well, bless my heart - would you look at that, girls! He’s bowing to us!

In all my years I’ve never seen such manners from one so young.

I’ll have to introduce my little squab to him so he can get some lessons on how to be so gracious. And gracious he was. They all knew that before them stood a very special little prince bordering on perfection.

As Benedict was busy basking in all the attention, Iris whispered, All right, Benedict, that will be all for now, thank you. Please go back to the nest and wait for me there. I won’t be long. When a secretly proud Iris did return to the nest, Benedict was already in the midst of falling asleep. You did wonderfully, Benedict. And remember, my little prince, it’s a humble heart and soul that will truly make you a prince - on the inside as well as on the outside. Even though Benedict wasn’t sure what that meant exactly, he knew he needed to remember the word humble.

With that, he could no longer keep his eyes open and fell asleep in the warmth of his mother’s love.

CHAPTER THREE

TAGGING

T agging is something that every racing pigeon must endure. Within the first seven days of hatching the master has to place a numbered metal ring on your ankle. To enable a lifetime - that’s correct, a lifetime - of racing, whether you want it that way or not. For a pigeon