by Jo Simmons
“Almost there!” said Sam, pointing at the tower. “Come on!”
Despite all the pigeon attacks of recent days, there was still a huge crowd gathered in the park. They had come to enjoy the leech racing and custard punching and cow tipping and to hear local band the Topside Trumpeters. They had taken the mayor’s words about carrying on life as normal to heart, but even so, lots of people were wearing hats with mini umbrellas on top, just in case the pooping happened again. There was also a stall selling various bird-scarers, including pocket alarms, deely boppers with flashing lights, and hats in the shape of sharks and bears and the prime minister, all designed to put the pigeons off. It was doing a brisk trade amongst the nervous Topsiders.
The children stared upwards. No sign of Birdman yet. The sun shone down. The sky was blue. The park looked beautifully colourful. And the mayor, standing on stage holding a microphone … well, he looked rather red.
“I am sorry to announce that Britain’s wealthiest man, Rich Handsome, is unable to open the festival today,” said Mayor Crackling. “He has been called away unexpectedly and sends his apologies. But never mind! We have lots to enjoy here, so I now pronounce the Topside Festival of Fun – OPEN!”
The people clapped politely and wandered off, but before anyone could have a go at the guess-the-weight-of-the-sausage competition, or could watch the jelly-sculpting demonstration, a shadow fell across the park.
“Uh-oh,” said Jock. “We’ve got company!”
People began looking up. A man pointed. “There!” he shouted. The mayor, still clutching his microphone, let out a swear word which the whole park heard.
The Topsiders gasped, screamed, clung to each other.
“What is it?” cried a little boy, unable to believe his five-year-old eyes, as an enormous grey cloud sped towards the park.
It was a huge flock of pigeons, of course, but unlike the flock that had menaced the fun run, this time it had a rider. Birdman!
The crowd could all see him clearly, standing on his flying carpet of pigeons, bestriding them like a mighty charioteer in his bright-red suit. His small, weird wings were visible, too, and so was Rich Handsome, a terrified figure, clinging to Birdman’s leg.
Using reins to guide the birds, Birdman swooped his crazy carpet around the park several times as the crowd stared upward in horror. Then a single bird left the group, flew down to the stage and seized the microphone out of the mayor’s hand, delivering it to Birdman, who began to speak.
“People of Topside, greetings from your new master!” he said. “Soon I will control the country with my army of loyal pigeons.”
Then Birdman pointed at Tess Trotter from Talking Topside, here with her news cameraman.
“Make sure you are filming this! I want the eyes of the world on me. They need to know who I am! In a moment, I will release this army of super-powerful birds you see me riding on. Like good homing pigeons they will return to the cities all over this land that they came from. Soon, my pigeons will occupy every corner of this country. They are trained to cause chaos and wreck human life, and only I can control them. So take notice of me. I am your leader now! I am Birdman!”
The crowd was silent.
“You were supposed to clap!” he scolded. “Fine. Why not cheer instead for the man who gave me wings? Let’s hear it for Rich Handsome!”
There was no cheer, though, only more shocked silence.
“Oh dear, Rich, they don’t seem that impressed,” said Birdman. “Never mind, it was still worth your while turning up, because I am going to teach you a vital lesson today. A life lesson. It’s time you understand how it feels to be dumped, discarded and …”
Birdman paused, before roaring, “DROPPED!”
With that, Birdman kicked his leg and shook Rich Handsome free. Then the birds parted and Rich Handsome began to fall.
“Quickly, Sam!” shouted Nina. “Do something!”
Sam was already building up a huge shock wave in his chest. As Rich Handsome plummeted down, Sam blasted out a wall of sound that caught the tumbling billionaire and whooshed him towards the bouncy castle. The wave hurled him into the inflatable fortress, where he pinged off the sides like a bullet ricocheting off a wall. He pinged up and down, side to side, over and over again, before finally coming to a stop.
Mayor Crackling bounced on to the castle to haul Rich Handsome off, and the two men boinged about, performing an awkward moonwalk until they reached the side and slid down on to the grass. It would have been funny, except it wasn’t funny, because Birdman was still flapping above and threatening to rule the country. This could not be allowed to happen. Obviously.
“Sam, blast the birds away with your voice,” Jock said. “Quick!”
“It won’t work from down here,” said Sam. “But I have another idea. Nina – knit me a rope!”
Nina’s knitting needles sprang into action, and seconds later, she handed Sam a woolly rope.
“Now stand back,” said Sam. “I’m going up!”
Chapter 23
Sam Takes the Ride of His Life
Sam looped the rope and began to whirl it around his head as though it were a giant woolly lasso. As Birdman swept down over the crowd, Sam threw it into the air as high as he could. The rope caught on a cluster of pigeons and instantly Sam was scooped off his feet and dragged through the air behind them.
The crowd gasped as Sam went flying off, dangling beneath the birdy carpet.
“You again!” fumed Birdman, peering down over the side of his flying bird blanket. “Buzz off, big mouth!”
Birdman pulled the reins and directed the birds towards the trees at the edge of Topside Park. The crowd gasped. Sam was about to be swung straight into their thick branches. But, just in time, he scampered up the rope and as the birds swooped back for another circle of the park, he pushed his way through a thicket of feathers and popped up on the top of the flying carpet.
“There he is!” cried Jock. “Go, Super Loud!”
Nina glanced up briefly then returned to her knitting.
Sam crawled across the flying birds towards Birdman. He grabbed at the reins, but Birdman would not let go.
“Get off, you silly boy!” said Birdman. “Don’t mess with my birds or I’ll have them peck you to pieces!”
“No, you get off,” said Sam.
More tussling. The birds were flying dangerously close to the trees again. The crowd held its breath. Tussle. Tussle. Tussle.
“I said …” repeated Sam, before opening his mouth as wide as it could go:
“GET OFF!”
It was a mega blast of sound. Stunned, Birdman fell backwards on to his birds, dropping the reins.
It was Sam’s chance. He snatched them up and yanked hard, sending the birds racing sharply to the right, away from the park and towards…
“Topside Tower!” said Jock. “They are heading for Topside Tower. Come on, Nina!”
The friends raced over. They could not guess what Sam was planning but they had to follow him.
Topside Tower glinted in the summer sun. It was the biggest building in Topside, a huge office block fitted with mirrored windows, and Sam was steering the birds right for it.
“He’s going to hit it!” gasped Jock. “Is he mad? What’s he doing?”
“Just a little closer,” Sam muttered, as the birds flapped forwards at top speed. “A little closer.”
“What’s going on?” said Birdman, shaking his head and ruffling his tiny wings as he came to and saw that Sam was driving his birds directly for the tower. “Stop!” he shouted at them, but they couldn’t hear him.
Sam had begun to hum.
Of course, a hum from Sam could only mean one thing. He was brewing up another shock wave. It had to be big. It had to be bad. It had to be bold. Yesterday, Sam’s shock wave had only rippled through the pigeons. This one had to do much more.
As Sam sped towards the tower, Bryce’s advice about magnifying the sound was ringing in his brain. He blasted out one epic
, huge, monstrous wave of sound and sent it crashing straight for the tower.
When the wall of noise hit, the mirrored windows seemed to bow inwards, but rather than breaking, they sent the sound bouncing back, bigger and badder than before. Now, this reinforced wall of sound and power was zooming straight at the pigeons, a force greater than anything Sam could have produced alone. It was a huge tsunami of sound and it was about to hit the birds head-on.
This time, the pigeons could not surf the wave of sound. This time, it did more than simply ruffle their feathers. This time, it barrelled through the birds like a bowling ball through chocolate fingers. Pigeons exploded outwards in all directions, spinning and spiralling sideways, up, out and, eventually, down.
They were not the only ones to fall. With the shock, Birdman was blasted off and landed in a tree. Sam, on the other hand, stunned by his own shock wave, was hurled high into the air. He flew up, up, up and then, almost in slow motion, he began to fall.
“Quickly, Jock!” yelled Nina. “Grab this and run!”
Jock ran, clutching the new piece of knitting Nina had been working on – a net! Gregory Peck flew in to help and Rich Handsome grabbed a section, too. The friends stretched the net tight and held it right under Sam, who was plummeting towards the ground.
“Pull hard!” shouted Nina. “Hold really tight! Here he comes… !”
Sam hurtled towards the outstretched net. Nina, Jock, Rich and Gregory braced themselves. The crowd held its breath and…
PING!
Sam hit the net, bounced back up into the air, did a spectacular somersault and then plopped down safely into the woolly mesh stretched beneath him.
The crowd erupted into cheers and whoops and clapping!
Woo-hoo!
It was over.
Chapter 24
Now Say Sorry
Sam woke to find a crowd gathered around him. Nina and Jock were grinning down at him, Gregory Peck was sitting on his tummy, and Mayor Crackling was looking happy for the first time in two days.
“What happened?” said Sam, still groggy from his own shock wave.
“You just saved the day, buddy!” said Jock. “You truly are a hero. Excellent!”
Sam rubbed his eyes, looked about him and noticed Birdman, one hand cuffed to a policeman, who stood firmly on the spot. Rich Handsome was nearby, smiling instead of shaking.
Suddenly, Sam remembered it all. “Where are all the pigeons?” he asked.
“You stunned them with your stupid shouting!” Birdman spat, glaring at Sam.
“Shut it, Feathers,” said the policeman, tugging the handcuffs.
“Quite right,” said Mayor Crackling. “We don’t want to listen to you and your crazy ideas any more. Your plans to gain power were despicable. You will never win fame, glory and respect by scaring people with pigeons.”
“Maybe not,” muttered Birdman. “I’d settle for an apology, though.”
The mayor did not hear him. He had turned away, full of disgust.
But Sam had heard. “What did you say?” he asked, approaching Birdman and looking into his tiny birdy eyes. It was the first time Sam had looked at them properly. Far from seeing greed and evil there, he saw something else. What was it? With a gulp, Sam realized it was sadness.
“Maybe ruling the country and being a supervillain is not the answer,” Birdman said to Sam. “Maybe, deep down, all I really wanted was for Rich Handsome to say sorry – for the experiments, for abandoning me, for these silly wings.”
He fluttered his stunted wings a little and hovered a few centimetres off the ground, before the policeman yanked him back down to earth.
“Will you say sorry?” Sam asked Mr Handsome.
Rich Handsome, the country’s richest man, walked up to Birdman.
“Sorry, Brian,” said Rich finally, holding out a hand for him to shake. Brian Moor took it limply. “Sorry for all of it. I treated you badly. I see that now, and I want to make it up to you. I’ll spend all the money it takes to rid you of those wings. How about a job working for me, too? Big salary, lots of pecks. I mean perks.”
Sam thought Birdman might cock his head, birdy-fashion, as Sam had seen him do so many times before. But instead, Birdman’s head fell. His shoulders sagged. His wings drooped. He let out a huge sigh.
The crowd were quiet for a moment, until a tiny figure muscled her way to the front.
“Now I should think it’s time YOU said sorry too, Brian,” said the woman.
This fearsome old lady was small, with a cloud of white hair on her head and a big handbag in the crook of her arm: the kind of handbag you could easily bash someone with.
“You have caused a lot of upset, my boy!” she said. “I couldn’t believe it when I saw you on the news just now. That’s what you have been up to all these years – hiding in a warehouse, messing about with pigeons! I wondered where you had got to. A fine way to carry on! Didn’t I bring you up with manners? Apologize.”
“Sorry, Mum,” said Brian Moor.
“Not to me!” said the woman. “To all these nice people!”
“Sorry, everyone,” said Brian Moor, looking very sheepish.
“That’s OK,” the crowd murmured back.
“Do you promise to give up trying to take over the country?” asked Sam.
“Yes,” said Brian.
“And will you call off your pigeons?” Sam asked.
“Yes,” said Brian.
“But how?” said Nina. “I thought they were trained to cause havoc.”
“They are,” said Brian, “but I can just tell them not to. They’re really clever, remember?”
“Oh, right,” said Nina.
“It seems we have a happy ending,” said the mayor, beaming at everybody. “What say we return to the park and get this Topside Festival of Fun started properly?”
“Great idea,” said Rich Handsome. “The ice creams are on me!”
And with that, the crowd let out a mighty whoop, scooped Sam on to their shoulders and marched back into the park. As the Topside Trumpeters blasted out a celebration tune, Brian Moor stood looking on, his tiny mum beside him. She rummaged in her giant bag and pulled out a sweetie, which she offered to her son. He pecked it up.
“You need to work on that, too,” she said. “That’s no way to eat. Manners, remember?”
Brian Moor nodded.
Chapter 25
A Night to Remember
Against all expectations, that year’s Topside Festival of Fun was the best ever. Having been scared half to Brazil and back, the people of Topside were now ready for a party. After all, it’s not every day that a crazed half-man, half-bird threatens the nation’s safety, is it? It’s not every day that a young boy with a super-loud voice saves the entire country from jeopardy. It’s not every day that it’s the Topside Festival of Fun, either. . . So for all this to come together at exactly the same time – well, it was just perfect, really!
Sam, Nina and Jock partied until they could party no longer, and were taken home to bed in Rich Handsome’s private limousine. Rich stayed on at the park (he had taken a liking to Tess Trotter from Talking Topside and was buying her lots of hot dogs), and Gregory Peck was looking after Birdman’s pigeons, who were still groggy after the shock wave and were recovering under some little bird blankets Nina had knitted.
It was late when Rich Handsome’s luxury car dropped Sam’s friends, and finally Sam, safely home.
When the long black limo pulled up at Sam’s house, the tall driver with a long scar down one cheek scooped the exhausted hero from off the back seat, knocked on Sam’s door and passed the dozy child over to his proud mother.
Peeping sleepily over his mum’s shoulder as the front door was just closing, Sam thought he recognized the driver as he strode back to the limo. Something about his height, his long leather coat… But Sam was too exhausted to work it out now and was asleep again before he landed in bed.
“Good night, Super Loud Sam. Until next time,” murmured the driv
er, as he revved the engine and pulled away. “Have a great sleep. You’ve earned it.”
Have you read the Pip Street books by Jo Simmons?
Read on for a peek at book one…
Pip Street looks like an ordinary street, with houses that have doors and windows and roofs, and a bit of front garden at the front and a bit of back garden at the back. It smells like an ordinary street, too – that’s to say, of not very much. Except on bin days, when it smells of mushrooms and warm nappies. But – and here’s the shocking bit – it doesn’t behave like an ordinary street.
No, because strange things are happening on Pip Street. Unexplained events. Mysterious mysteries. Funny stuff! And Bobby Cobbler is about to get caught right in the middle of it.
Bobby Cobbler was a little boy, about this big, with a sprinkling of freckles and teeth as white as snow (and everywhere that Bobby went, his teeth were sure to go). He had sharp eyes (but not sharp enough to cut yourself on), and a mind as curious as a kitten’s and fifty times as smart.
Bobby lived on Pip Street. Actually, he was about to live on Pip Street. His mum and dad had bought a new home there. Nothing fancy. It wasn’t a castle or a palace with golden toilets. It was normal size. Big enough for Bobby, his parents and his cat, Conkers. And for some furniture. And a fridge. And a bath. And some oven gloves. And for Bobby’s DVD collection. He had the complete set of Custard and Chips, his favourite ever cartoon, and seasons one and two of Meerkats In Maidstone, in which a family of meerkats relocates to Maidstone.
Moving house is exciting, isn’t it? But Bobby wasn’t excited. Nope, he was cross. Grrrr, he was thinking. Bobby had lived in ten different houses and he was only eight years old. Even if you are rubbish at maths, you can tell that’s a lot of moving. It’s all because Bobby’s dad was a travelling sweets salesman. Now that sounds cool, but it’s not. For once Bobby’s dad had sold his Ninny Drops and Milky Lugs and Sherbet Bumbums to one part of the country, he had to move again, to find new customers. Bobby would be just getting used to one school, just making friends, when whoops! it would be moving time again.