Vertigo

‘But Mum!’

‘Don’t 'but mum' me, you are coming with us and that is the end of the story. Now pull yourself together and get to it.’

But Freddy didn’t get to it. Instead he watched the others leave on yet another practice, while he kicked his heels and mumbled to himself. ‘Why do we have to bloody fly south? Why can’t I stay here for the winter?’ he asked himself over and over. He wanted to be left alone but he saw his best friend Richie circle above him and then gracefully land next to him. Freddy had never been that graceful, never been able to land without a bump.

‘What’s up Fred?’ sang Richie with his trademark chirpiness. ‘Cathy’s asking where you are.’

Freddy shrugged his wings and said nothing. He’d never told anyone about his plight, he was just too embarrassed.

‘You need to get up there with us' Richie sang, 'time’s ticking - we set off on Friday and it’s a long flight. You need to build up the strength and know the calls.’

Freddy knew his friend was right, but also knew there was nothing he could do. He shrugged his wings again

'C'mon mate, snap out of it, eh?' Richie said as he flew off to join the others.

But Freddy couldn't snap out of it, it wasn't as simple as that. He had never liked flying, he was clumsy, awkward, slow and lacked any sense of coordination. Whenever he could he would walk or hop rather than fly. The others thought he was lazy; even his own mother didn’t seem to understand him. He’d told her he just couldn’t do it, but she’d told him not to be silly, all birds could fly. He’d even heard her tell her friends that her son 'flew like a tortoise'.

But the real problems had materialised when they had started these damned practice runs. The squadron leader, known as The Bumble Bee, had taken them higher and faster than Freddie had ever been before. At first it was fun; Freddy and Richie had been larking around, flirting with Veronica and Cathy. But then Bumble Bee had instructed him to go up front and lead the way. As soon as he had hit the front of the flock, Freddy had been overcome with an overwhelming sense of panic and a tremendous sense of foreboding.

He couldn't handle the responsibility; it was sickening, while the vast expanse of empty blue sky ahead of him made him feel unbearably lonely. But all of that was nothing to the sense of dizziness he felt when he looked down. Shit they were high up, how had they got so high? He felt his stomach flip and his wings go weak. He didn't know how he was ever going to be able to get down from there. To top it all he ruined a pedestrian below's day.

That was Freddy’s first and last practice run, since then he had stuck to the roof top like iron filings to a magnet. He never wanted to go up there again; he couldn’t, the fear, the panic, the loneliness would kill him.

But how could a bird be scared of heights, be scared of flying? Flying was in their DNA? He must be a freak, a nutter! Freddy's head had ached since that day as the question burnt a hole in his skull. It was a dull pain, the epicenter in his frontal lobe sending tremors through his brain.  A few of the flock had asked him what was wrong but how could he tell anyone? They’d laugh at him and call him a freak, cos he was a freak, wasn’t he? So he sulked on the rooftops the weight of the world on his wings, while the others soared above him, happy and free. 

'You're scared of flying aren't you?' His old adversary Dusty had landed next to him. 

'Fuck off Dusty, what do you know?' Dusty was a year older than Freddy and always fliting around the younger chicks.

'More than you know mate, more than you know!' 

Freddie looked at Dusty and saw a different bird - not the cocksure, ladies man Freddie was used to, but a kind and concerned face. Freddie knew immediately Dusty had been here too. 

'I'll tell you a story,' Dusty began avoiding eye contact, speaking into the middle distance. This time last year it was me clinging to the rooftops wondering why heavy metallic objects could fly and I couldn't,' he pointed his wing to the aeroplane passing overhead. 'And do you know who came to talk to me like I am doing to you now?' Freddy shook his head. 'BB himself.' Freddy let out a sigh of disbelief. 'Yep old Bumble is terrified of heights and I would guess so are about 1 in 4 of the others up there,' he nodded to the flock above their heads. 

Dusty took off to join the others and as he flew Freddie noticed just how awkwardly his old foe flapped his wings. He’d never noticed that before. He looked at others in the flock and saw they were all different, none of them perfect. For the first time in a long time a small smile appeared on his beak. Maybe he wasn’t such a freak after all.

Note: it’s no wonder they get scared up there look at this