Pigeons of Paris [on hold]

Chapter 2

Slowly Emilie lifted one of her eyelids and looked around for who had awoken her. Ah, it was Jules, just about to prod her when he realised she was awake.

"Jules, what are you doing 'ere?"

Slightly embarrassed, Jules looked around avoiding Emilie's gaze. Jules was a rather stout pigeon who had been a very charming where ladies were involved. A few years ago he had, however, had an accident involving a large telephone mast. As he was flying, in an excited and slightly random manner, he had gotten his foot caught in a wire and hit the pole with great speed, head first. As a result of this he was now considerably stupid and had lost his left foot.

"Ju-ules! What is it? Don't tell me you have woken me up for no good reason!"

"Oh, Emilie, I do 'ave a good reason!"

"Then spit it out or let me get back to sleep."

"Oh, uuum, it's monsieur Benoît! 'e is back, Emilie, 'e is back!" Forgetting his shyness Jules was now jumping - or rather hopping - around on the ledge.

"Monsieur Benoît? You are 'aving a laugh!"

"Non, non. Emilie I am not, I promise!"

"Ok, ok, let me wake Marcel - MARCEL ... MARCEL!"

"Emilie, what is it?" Sleepily Marcel ruffled his feathers and took in his surroundings. "What is Jules doing 'ere?"

"Monsieur Benoît is back! Monsieur Benoît is BACK!!" answered Jules himself.

"Really? 'e is back? Oh, Jules, you are kidding!"

"Non, non, I am not!"

"Come, we must go now before the flock finds out!" interrupted Emilie.

At that the pigeons set off to find monsieur Benoît.

♦

"Look, Marcel, there is la Notre Dame, we are almost at monsieur Benoît!"

Mid-flight Emilie nudged Marcel and pointed a wing at the craggy outline in the distance. The three pigeons were quick fliers and soon they were hovering above the renowned church. They swooped down and each perched on a gargoyle's head, surveying the situation.

"Jules, I do not see 'im. Do not tell me you 'ave brought us 'ere for nothing!" In response Jules cocked his head in a leftward direction and Emilie looked over. Sure enough, on one of the benches on the far left of the square sat a hunched figure in a dark overcoat and baseball cap.

"Come let us go down - please, pleeeeease!" Jules squeaked into Emilie's ear. As the fat pigeon was about to fly down, Emilie stopped him with her wing.

"Non - we all go down together ... and ... NOW!" Suddenly the trio swept down onto the square, right before Benoît's feet.

"Oh, my gorgeous, beautiful pigeons!" Marcel and Emilie looked at Benoît in a confused way and cocked their heads towards Jules.

"Oui, Marcel and Emilie, even Jules." A broad grin spread across monsieur Benoît's face as Jules proudly ruffled his ashen grey feathers.

"Look, my darling birds, I 'ave something for you." The old man reached into his deep pocket and took out a small plastic bag filled to the brim with sunflower seeds and baguette crumbs. Benoît took a handful from the bag and eagerly Jules jumped onto the man's knee, quickly pecking at the mix.

"'e is so greedy, that Jules." Emilie whispered to Marcel.

"But, we might as well make the most of it." And Marcel too began pecking at the food. Not being able to resist any longer, Emilie went to sit next to Marcel. Soon enough she too was enjoying herself, the pigeons were chatting amongst themselves and Benoît was filled with content as he always was when around his beloved birds.