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Hello, hello and welcome to Storynory! You’re listening to Jana and I am back with a chilly Birdy story.

Birdy and the Ski Slopes.

Jake woke up to see little flakes of snow falling outside his window. The garden was glistening and white. “Great!” he thought. “I think I’ll build a snow man!”

But sadly, this was not to be. In England snow doesn’t settle very often. By the time his mother was driving him to school all the snow had turned to slushy mush.
But she had surprisingly good news for him that cheered him up immensely. And he couldn’t wait for the school day to end so he could rush home to tell Birdy.
That evening, a slightly shivering Birdy tapped at Jake’s window. Jake opened up and quickly let Birdy in, along with a gush of freezing air.
“Birdy!” he said excitedly, “I’ve got great news! Mum says we’re going skiing at half term with Uncle Jim. Can you come too? The mountain we're going to ski down is called the Pyrenees. Mum said the place is called Andorra. You could fly there, couldn’t you?”

“I could if I have the time.”

“Oh go on Birdy, it will be much more fun with you there!”
“I’ll see what I can do,” Birdy said.

When Jake went downstairs, he asked, “Is skiing easy Mum?”
“Like everything in life, it’s about practice. Your Uncle Jim and I went on our fair share of skiing holidays back when we were kids. I haven’t been for years, but I expect I’ll soon get my ski legs back. Dad’s never been skiing before, so he’ll be learning with you on the baby slopes.”
Jake chuckled as he imagined Dad wobbling about on his skis.
Jake waited and waited for half term through long sleepy school lessons, full of kids sniffling and coughing. And at last, half term finally came around! Au revoir Britain! Bye bye grey skies! The family flew off to join Uncle Jim. He had rented a luxurious, cosy chalet large enough for both families with stunning views of the crisp, bright ski slopes.
After breakfast the next morning, they met their ski instructor, Pierre, who had a moustache that looked like a fluffy caterpillar.
“First, we learn the basics,” Pierre announced, clapping his hands. “Put on your boots, and zen clip into your skis like zis.” He demonstrated by lining up the toe of his boot with the binding and pressing down with a satisfying click.
Jake tried to copy him, but his first attempt ended with him toppling sideways into the snow. “It’s harder than it looks!” he grumbled, brushing snow off his jacket.
Dad, meanwhile, looked like a baby giraffe trying to stand for the first time—his legs wobbled in every direction.
Pierre called out, “Bend your knees! Lean forward, not back. You must feel ze front of your boots!”
After a few practice runs on a gentle slope, Pierre announced, “Now we try ze ski lift!”
“Great, we’re going up in the world,” said Dad, which was his idea of a joke.
As they ascended, Jake gazed down at the sparkling snow below: it was hard to imagine that his dreary old school even existed!
After the lesson, they headed to a steeper slope to see how the experts were getting on. Mum, Uncle Jim and cousin Roddy were due to come down soon.
“I hope Mum doesn’t break a leg,” said Elle.
“Naaa,” said Dad, Uncle Jim says she’s a natural. Like a swan on snow!”
Jake and Elle stood at the bottom of the slope, trying to spot Mum among all the brightly clothed skiers who were expertly sliding down the slope.
“There she is!” shrieked Elle, spotting Mum’s ski suit. “She looks so small up there. I hope she’s not nervous.”
As it happened, Mum glided down the slope with smooth, controlled turns, her skis carving elegant S-shapes into the snow. Even Pierre gave a nod of approval.
“Whoa,” said Jake, amazed. “She’s actually good.”
“Told you,” said Dad, “Like a pro!”
Mum reached the bottom and came to a graceful stop, sending up a small spray of snow. She pulled off her goggles and smiled. “Piece of cake!”
“I didn’t know you could do that!” said Elle proudly grinning from ear to ear.
“It’s like riding a bike,” said Mum, brushing snow off her jacket. “You never forget.”
The next day, Uncle Jim announced he was taking Mum “off-piste,” meaning they’d ski on untouched snow away from the main trails.
“Your Mum’s too good for these boring old slopes,” he said. “We’ll go exploring!”
“Ooh, be careful Mummy, don’t get caught in an avalanche,” said Elle.
“I promise, I’ll be careful,” reassured Mum. “Uncle Jim, will be looking after me, so don't worry about anything.”
“Make sure you look after her, Jim. We don’t want her getting lost,” said Aunty Sue (Jim’s wife) who was planning to go designer-shopping, which she maintained was how sensible people spent the time in Andorra.
The kids skiing lesson was fun, and afterwards Dad took them for lunch in town. They had chocolate fondue.
When they got back, they were all happily exhausted and so went to bed for a nap. When Jake woke up later that afternoon he found Dad in the living room. “I’m worried Jake, Mum’s not back and I can’t get hold of her on the phone.”
“Don’t worry Dad,” consoled Jake, “she’ll be fine. Uncle Jim promised to look after her.”
But it was only five minutes later when Uncle Jim returned to the chalet looking unusually pale.
“Where’s Mum?” asked Jake.
“I don’t know,” said Uncle Jim anxiously, "I seemed to lose her along the way.”
“Lose her?” Asked Jake.
Uncle Jim began explaining, while rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “We were skiing along this beautiful stretch of untouched snow, and Lucy, (that’s Jake’s Mum) was skiing better than I expected. We were making our way down, taking it slow and steady, when suddenly she hit a bit of ice, picked up speed, and went shooting down the slope like a rocket. Before I knew it, she disappeared behind a ridge.”
“Didn’t you go after her?” Dad asked, his voice tight with worry.
“Course I did!” Uncle Jim exclaimed. “I followed her tracks, but when I got to the ridge, there was nothing—just trees and more snow. I called out, looked in every direction... but it was like she vanished into thin air. I’ve been searching for hours, but there’s no sign of her.”
Jake and Elle exchanged worried glances. Aunty Sue, who had been listening quietly, looked very pale and grim.
“I didn’t like to say, but when I got back from shopping, I saw a black bird hanging around. He was looking right at me like he was trying to give me a message. It gave me chills. Look, there he is now on the gate post. When I first saw him, I knew something terrible was going to happen. It’s a bad omen!”
Jake rushed to the window. “That’s not a bad omen!” he exclaimed, “That’s Birdy!”
“What’s the boy raving on about?” asked Uncle Jim.
Dad shuffled uncomfortably, “Well he has this friend, who is a talking bird, and well….”
“The kid’s got a wilder imagination about birds than my wife has!” said Uncle Jim. “One says it’s a bad omen, and the other says it’s his best friend. Enough of this feather-brained nonsense! It’s time to call the authorities… if anyone can tell us how to do that around here…”
“No wait,” said Jake. “Birdy will show us where Mum is…”
“You know,” said Dad, “I think it’s worth a try.”
In truth, Jim really did not want to get any authorities involved… there was no telling where that would end. So reluctantly he led the way to his fancy German car that he had driven all the way out from England. Soon they were following a black crow, who really did appear to be guiding them. He led them out of town, along a winding mountain road, and then off the road, and up a long drive surrounded by snow covered fields. Eventually they came to a farmhouse. Before Dad stepped out of the car, a woman appeared at the front door waving to them. “Please do come in!” she said as if expecting them. “Your wife is waiting for you!” She called out.
Dad, Jake, Elle and Uncle Jim clambered out of the car and went in doors. There, waiting for them on a comfortable sofa, they found Mum drinking a hot mug of cocoa. Relieved to see her family, she said, “Thank goodness! I couldn’t remember our chalet address and I couldn’t call you as I lost my phone on the slope.”
“What happened, Sis?” asked Uncle Jim, grateful to see his sister safe. “One minute we were skiing together and then suddenly you disappeared! I thought you’d gone flying over a ridge!”
“I did,” said Mum unconcerned, “It was a bit like taking a ski jump in the Olympic Games. All very thrilling if you mean to do it, but somewhat alarming if it’s by accident. I went flying through the air and….”
“She landed in our garden…” said the owner of the house.”
“My ski jacket got caught in the branch of an Apple tree so I was just dangling there for a moment before I dropped down into a pile of snow. I think the tree broke my fall so I was shaken, a bit stirred, but nothing broken. This lovely lady - Hélène - has been looking after me. How did you find me by the way!”
“Birdy found you ofcourse!” piped up Jake. “He showed us the way.”
“Oh Birdy this, Birdy that!” said Mum. And Dad glanced at Jake.
“He’s in the garden now!” said Jake pointing to the window. And there, sitting on the Apple Tree was a black crow. “CAWWWWWWW!”
Not a bad omen, but a very special and wise old friend.
And that was ‘Birdy and the Ski Slopes.’ read by me, Jana for Storynory.com.
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From me Jana at Storynory.com see you next time.