Gatwick Bear and the Secret Plans Read online

  4 The Refuse Collector

  Now Gatwick had to look for his own departure gate. He looked around him, when, all of a sudden, he saw Miss Acid telling some Italians off for playing football at the gates. She took their ball and cut it in half, there and then. On tip-toe Gatwick headed for the nearest pillar. Standing straight up against it, he took a deep, deep breath and pulled his tummy in. He peeped round the pillar to see her checking people’s boarding-cards and passports.

  “You were much younger then, weren’t you dear?”, she barked to a middle-aged woman thrusting her passport back at her.

  Quickly, Gatwick pulled his head back. Oh me, oh my, she was coming his way. He jumped into the waste bin nearby. Miss Acid couldn’t walk and think at the same time. She wandered around aimlessly for a bit then stopped to think about where to go next. By the time she had worked out that she wanted to look in the waste bin, a refuse collector stepped out in front of her, took out the plastic bag (with Gatwick in it), tied it up in an extra-tight knot, and hurled it into his wheelie bin. Gatwick knew how waste management worked at the airport. He had to escape from that bag before they sorted all the bits of him out for recycling. The sound of the refuse lorry moved closer and closer to his furry ears. The bag containing Gatwick was thrown on a heap. After a few moments, something started tapping on his head. The top of the bag was torn open by the yellow beak of Jet the raven. He was looking for food after a lucky escape. “What are you doing inside a rubbish bag?”, Jet asked.

  “I was trying to get away from Miss Acid. And, how did you escape?”

  “Well, that’s a long story”, Jet answered. “Miss Acid and other officers were having a party. They’d had a bit to drink and started throwing bottles and cans around. Miss Acid had pushed those who were most drunk to the back of the room. Then a lad started aiming bottles at my cage from a distance. The cage toppled over. When the lad saw the cage on its side, he ran over, lifted it up and tossed it in the air. In a twist of fate, the door opened and I managed to get through it and fly away”.

  “How lucky !” Gatwick exclaimed. “But I must rush off now because I’m flying to Switzerland”.

  “Really? I’ve always wanted to go there, too. I’ll race you. See you in Switzerland at Lugano City Airport!” Jet pecked a kiss on Gatwick’s chubby cheek. While walking away from Jet, Gatwick turned around and beamed a big smile at Jet: “The first one there waits for the other one. Bye!”

  5 Gatwick’s Luggage

  Now Gatwick had to go and look for his luggage. He had to figure out where he had seen it last. He had forgotten, of course. Maybe he ought to go to lost property. He went to the information desk. “Please, Miss”, he began, “do you know where I can find my lost cases: a big box on wheels, tied up with red rope, and a small blue Edwardian case with rusty catches and an even rustier big lock? I left them around here about half an hour ago”.

  “I’m sorry, sir, but all abandoned luggage is taken to our North Terminal and placed on the mountain of lost cases in a field nearby”. She looked into the monitor of her computer and continued: “There are... just a moment please while I answer the phone... Sorry, as I was saying, there are 42 thousand pieces there now. Are you insured?”

  “What’s that?”, Gatwick asked.

  “Well, never mind. I tell you what. Why don’t you go to North Terminal and look for your luggage? Your flight is late, you have time. We operate a free bus service between here and North Terminal. It stops right outside here”. She gave Gatwick a note to show to the security guard who would let him back in.

  So Gatwick went out and waited for the bus. He couldn’t see the bus coming. As he often did to pass the time of day, he started whistling his favourite tune, Knees Up Mother Brown, while moving his round head from side to side and tapping one of his paws to the tune. He had nearly finished whistling the tune, the third time over, when he saw the blue airport bus approaching. He clambered up the steps and sat in the front row near the window. He’d have the best view from there. The wheels of the bus started going round and round, and off he went.

  The bus eventually drew in to North Terminal. Gatwick ran, as fast as his paws would take him, to the field. There was a mountain of cases – of all colours and sizes  how could he find his big box on wheels, tied up with red rope, and a small blue Edwardian case with rusty catches and an even rustier big lock? But, he was a very determined bear. He clambered over hard-shelled suitcases, feather light suitcases, expandable suitcases, backpacks, sports bags, and even a trunk. He climbed back down a little and went up towards the other side. Ah, he spotted his big box on wheels, tied up with red rope and his small blue Edwardian case with rusty catches and an even rustier big lock. Holding on to his luggage as tight as he could, he ran and ran back to the bus stop. When our bear arrived at South Terminal, he was just in time to catch his flight.

  6 Gatwick Takes Off!

  Gatwick placed his big box on wheels, tied up with red rope, in the overhead locker and his small blue Edwardian case, with rusty catches and an even rustier big lock, under the seat in front of him. His happiness was complete when he settled down into his window seat. But he couldn’t see out of the window; he was too small. So he stood on his seat and fastened the safety belt around his knees. What excitement! The flight attendant ordered Gatwick to sit down. “But I can’t, I’m looking out for my friend, Jet. I’m racing him to Switzerland. I want to see when we overtake him”.

  “You must remain seated for take off”, she ordered, “but you can stand up when the green light goes off. What does your friend look like? I can ask the pilot to tell me if he flies past, over or under your friend”.

  “Oh, would you really? Thank you very much! You’ll soon recognise him: he’s got ever such black feathers and a yellow beak. And he’s my best friend. He saved me from getting minced up into little bits”.

  Gatwick carefully kept his eyes glued to the light above his head. When the seatbelt sign finally went off, Gatwick unfastened his safety belt and started jumping up and down on his seat with sheer excitement. He loved playing race-the-raven. Gatwick pressed his furry nose against the window and kept a lookout for Jet.

  7 Jet’s Adventures

  By this time, Jet was flying over Paris. He was swooping down, down, down, because he wanted to perch on the top of the Eiffel Tower for a rest and a bite to eat. There was a restaurant on the second level where Jet found leftovers of snails in garlic butter. While Jet was sitting on the pinnacle of the Eiffel Tower, admiring the view from 1,063 feet high, he suddenly heard piercing police sirens: ‘What’s all that about?’, thought Jet. The French had intercepted an alien object on the top of the Tower. Not only the police, but all the French authorities were in alert. And, the secret service had informed the President of France:

  “We must take immediate action”, the President ordered, “our security alert level must move up to scarlet. Do you hear?”

  When the police, fire brigade, ambulances and onion vendors arrived, Jet thought it time to fly off. He soared up, up, up, until he was cruising at 15,000 feet, the same as Gatwick’s plane. Soon Jet had to fly higher still because he was coming up to the Alps. What a beautiful sight! All those icing-topped peaks. The highest of all the mountains, in the Alps, is Mont Blanc – the White Alp  it is about 15,780 feet high. It’s so high that if they are not careful planes and ravens can crash into it. But Jet wasn’t flying over that particular mountain today, nor was Gatwick. They were flying over other mountains, and Jet could already see them in the distance.

  So Jet was flying quite happily minding his own business, when two gigantic birds started circling around him. “Stop!”, one of them squawked at him. Jet didn’t stop because they looked scary.

  “You are trespassing; this air space is ours”.

  “I can fly anywhere I like”, answered Jet, challenging them.

  One of the birds signalled to the other and shouted: “Go and get him, buddy”.

  Jet flapped his wings as fast as the
y would go: harder and harder, harder and harder, but he couldn’t get away from these birds, they were stronger, bigger, and it was two against one. They scared all birds who flew over the Alps because they said it was their space. Everywhere they liked was their space, even if it wasn’t theirs at all. If they wanted a place, they invaded it. They bullied the native birds to: ‘Get the hell outta here’. The Eagles were all over the world, not just here. There were lots of them in England, too. They created land, sea and air bases wherever their whim took them. These particular Eagles were big-time bruisers: they were from the Assault Battalion of the Air Cavalry, and the Alps were their area of operations.

  They would beat you up first and then ask questions. Jet didn’t know all this because he had only flown low over Gatwick Airport until this adventure began. What a sheltered life he’d had!

  One of the Eagles grabbed Jet by the scruff of the neck, while the other started pecking him hard in the chest: “We’ll show ya who’s got the power and the glory around here, buddy! When we say stop, ya stop, ya jerk”. Jet couldn’t understand what he meant, but he it didn’t sound good.

  “Hey, Sam that’s enough for now”, Bird Dog squawked, “ya’ll kill the thing. We wanna talk to him first. Let’s take him to base camp”.

  Their headquarters were on Mont Blanc; the Eagles called it White Alp. That’s where the commander sat. He was the boss, judge and jury: his name was Stud. Bird Dog was important, too: he was the air controller. Whether birds or planes, he decided who could fly over his head and who couldn’t. Sometimes they shot birds dead either for fun or to practise their skills. If planes they didn’t like didn’t stop, they would shoot those down, too.

  Stud and Bird Dog operated from a bunker dug into the hard rock of White Alp. The bunker contained secret communications equipment. They also had a fleet of spy aircraft which were turbo-charged Eagles equipped with rockets, mini-guns and telescopes. Most of these Eagles wore medals for their valour.

  The Eagles were digging into Jet again quite badly. It was at that very moment that Gatwick’s plane overtook Jet. Gatwick had seen the treatment his friend was getting – Gatwick became very distressed and started crying. He pressed the button above his seat and called the flight attendant. “My friend is being bullied by Eagles, please stop the plane”, he cried.

  “I don’t think we can stop the plane, but I’ll go and talk to the pilot and see what we can do”.

  She soon came back with a big box of tissues. “I’m so sorry the pilot can’t land here. Please accept this with our compliments”. She gave Gatwick a box packed with goodies. Two triangular shaped tuna sandwiches, a chocolate bar, a fizzy drink, some paper, and five brightly-coloured crayons. Gatwick started eating and drawing, it helped keep his mind off Jet. When he had finished drawing the inside of the plane, he drew a picture of a bear cub where his little sister was sitting. Then he pressed the button again.

  “Would you like to see my drawing?” he asked the attendant.

  “You are such a clever bear”, she smiled. “I will give you a scratch card for your drawing. Prizes go from £1 to £20,000”.

  Gatwick didn’t know what a scratch card was, but it looked fun. He pulled out his small blue Edwardian case, with rusty catches and an even rustier big lock, from under the seat in front of him and took out his wooden spoon. It was ideal for scratching; he sometimes scratched his back with it, those bits he couldn’t reach with his paws. He scratched the card brilliantly, scratched it all off – he’d always been very neat. Then, he started reading: “Con...grat... u... la... tions!” It took Gatwick a minute or two to get through the word – it was very long as far as words go. Then he continued: “You have won £20,000”. These words he read quite easily, but the number foxed him. He could only count up to ten. Again, the flight attendant was called. It was the first time someone had won the top prize since she’d been with the airline:

  “Oh, my God, I don’t believe it!!” she screamed at the top of her voice.

  Everyone on the plane wondered what had happened, a couple of elderly ladies at the back of the plane started panicking, had put on their life jackets, and were making a terrible noise, trying out the whistles, while heading for the emergency exit behind them ready for evacuation.

  “No, it’s all right, sit down, please. Gatwick’s won top prize! Twenty-thousand pounds!”

  All the passengers and crew started clapping and cheering. Gatwick even got some pats on his furry back. And the other bear cub on board, his little sister, kissed him on his cheek. He liked all this attention, because he was a bit of a show-off at heart. Some people were taking pictures of him waving the winning card in one paw and his wooden spoon in the other. Then, everyone started calling out for scratch cards. The attendant ran for her purse and bought ten for herself first, then she started selling scratch cards to the front rows, while another hostess started in the middle and the other from the back. Soon everyone on the plane was scratching cards, even the pilot! The lady next to Gatwick asked if she could borrow his wooden spoon. She was certain it was a lucky wooden spoon. But, it was no good. Nobody else won anything. After all this excitement, the passengers calmed down and prepared for landing.

  Gatwick hadn’t forgotten his friend. As soon as he landed, he would go to the police and tell them about Jet. But, first, he wanted to free his little sister.

  8 The Eagles Question Jet

  Jet was taken to a high security bunker built in concrete and steel. Over the entrance, lights changed from red to green as he was pushed in through thick anti-atomic doors. Then Jet was shoved into an elevator going up floor by floor until he reached the seventeenth level. The doors slid open to reveal the biggest and most threatening Eagle imaginable sitting behind a heavy wooden desk. There were two big phones on the desk, a black one and a red one. This was the Chief: Stud.

  “Hiya, Buddy”, Stud began. “Listen, I ain’t here to frighten ya. All I want is a bit of co-operation. Let me tell ya before we start: it pays to tell the truth. My friends here”, he shouted, pointing to his bodyguards standing behind Jet, “ain’t got good manners. Y’know, their moms brought ’em up rough, real rough. Know what I mean, Buddy? They just ain’t got no manners”.

  Jet simply nodded because he couldn’t find his voice.

  “Now we’re gonna record this conversation, so ya better be careful what ya say. Are ya in a secret service of any type?”

  A secret service! Jet didn’t really know what he meant. He thought hard. Well, he had escaped from Miss Acid and secretly came to Switzerland. Only Gatwick knew about that apart from himself.

  “Well, yes, you could say I am”.

  “Who’re ya working for? Who sent ya to fly over that area of the Alps? Threats come to us from many sides”.

  Jet didn’t know how to answer that. The bodyguards started closing in on Jet.

  “Look Buddy”, Stud said, “I ain’t here to pass the time of day. Let’s get down to business. We got Red-tailed Hawk next door, he just loves torturin’ prisoners in those prison cells out there. Ya ever seen one of ’em hawk birds? They gotta wing-span of four feet, wouldya believe it?” Stud signalled to one of the bodyguards who got hold of Jet’s tail and twisted it hard.

  Jet squawked out loud. “Well, together with Gatwick we decided to...”

  “Now this Gatwick guy. Don’t ya go thinkin’ we dunno him. We’ve been keepin’ an eye on him. He’s dangerous. Where’s he from? Do y’know where he was born?”

  “He just turned up. I think he was born at Gatwick Airport, or he was lost or found there. Nobody knows”.

  “Nobody knows, eh! Nobody knows, eh! Who’re ya working for?”

  “I don’t know”.

  “So how come ya guys are in secret service and ya don’t who ya workin’ for? Whose side are ya on?”

  “All sides, I suppose”, Jet thought that might be the best answer. Better to keep it general, if you didn’t know the right answer.

  “Look, Buddy, let’s stop messin’ ar
ound here. I’ll tell ya what we’re gonna do. Me and you are gonna be good friends. Y’know, us feathered creatures have to stick together. Birds of a feather...! and all that baloney you come up with in London, like proverbs and rhyming slang”. Then Stud started talking to his bodyguards: “Hey, guys, whatya know, I found out that when a guy’s in prison they say: ‘He’s doin’ bird’. D’ya know, that means ‘He’s doin’ time’ because it rhymes with ‘birdlime’. D’ya get that?”

  The bodyguards didn’t understand it, but they laughed all the same.

  “And what was that about the early bird?”, Stud asked, looking at his bodyguards. They looked at each other with blank faces until one of them said: “Hey, chief, we can find out for ya”.

  “Just relax and shut ya face willya, do me a favor”.

  Stud turned to Jet again. “Look Buddy, we want ya to keep an eye on that there Gatwick. This guy’s dangerous. I’m worried about this club he started: Freedom for Bears Club. That’s gotta be a suspect organisation. There’s only one kinda freedom, and that’s our kinda freedom. Got that? Ya’know this here Gatwick guy wants to put funny ideas into bears’ heads. Now listen here; me, Bird Dog, Red-tailed Hawk and Sam here, really want ya to be our friend. All ya gotta do is keep an eye on that there Gatwick and tell us what he’s up to. Be nice to him, handle him right. Sam here will come and look for ya and bring information back to me. All ya gotta do is tell us his movements and what his intentions are. Ya got that?”

  Well, Jet could hardly disagree. He just wanted to get out of the place.

  “Yes, I’ve understood perfectly. If that’s what you want, then I’ll do it”, Jet answered.

  “You never had a choice, chuck. Sam’ll staple a micro-chip to ya tail, so that we know exactly where ya are all the time. Ya a wise guy. Ya don’t wanna get caught up in them Red-tailed Hawk’s claws. We got a deal. Now, go into downtown Lugano. The last time we checked him out, Gatwick was about to land at Lugano City Airport. Here, take this camera. Get us some shots of this Gatwick guy. Now just get outta my sight”.