#12 The Red Flying Machine

 

 

 

 

Tom the Koala sat in his favourite eucalyptus tree, munching on leaves and feeling rather glum. Every day was the same – eat, sleep, and watch the world go by from his comfy branch. Usually, that was perfectly fine for a koala, but Tom wasn't like other koalas. He wanted ‘adventure’.

From his perch, he could see the local park where children played with their remote control aeroplanes. The bright machines zoomed and swooped through the air, sometimes crashing spectacularly into the bush. The kids would retrieve their planes, but they often left behind broken pieces that glinted in the sunlight.

"Amazing," Tom muttered, watching another plane doing loop-de-loops. "That looks like so much fun!"

 

A flash of pink and grey caught his eye as Peter the Galah landed on a nearby branch. The bird's rose-coloured chest feathers ruffled in the gentle breeze as he tilted his head to look at Tom.

"Hello there!" Peter called cheerfully. "You're looking a bit sad today."

Tom sighed. "I'm tired of just sitting here. Look at those planes – they get to see everything! If only I could build one big enough to fly in..."

Peter's crest feathers shot up with excitement. "Build one? That's brilliant! I've watched those children with their planes for ages. I know exactly how they work!"

Tom's ears perked up. "Really? Could you help me?"

"Of course I could!" Peter fluttered around excitedly. "I've got a perfect view of how they're put together from up here!"

Over the next few weeks, Tom and Peter collected crashed plane parts from the park. Each day, they brought new treasures: red wings from a stunt plane, a broken fuselage from a trainer aircraft, and even a remote control unit that still worked perfectly. They stored their findings in a hollow log near Tom's tree, carefully organising each piece according to Peter's precise instructions.

The construction process was an adventure in itself. Peter directed the building, showing Tom how each piece should fit together. He'd perch on different parts of their creation, pointing with his wing and demonstrating how the control surfaces should move.

"The trick," Peter explained, holding a propeller in his beak, "is getting the balance right. We don't want any mid-air mishaps! See how the wings need to be exactly the same length on both sides? And the tail needs to be just the right weight to keep us steady."

They worked through the warm autumn days, Peter teaching Tom everything he knew about aerodynamics (which, for a galah, was surprisingly a lot). They used strong vines to bind parts together, creating a cockpit large enough for a koala to sit comfortably. Tom even fashioned a small windscreen from a piece of clear plastic he found to keep the wind out of his eyes.

Some of the local wildlife stopped by to watch their progress. A curious wallaby suggested using soft grass to cushion the landing gear, while a wise old goanna recommended reinforcing the tail with extra support. Even the kookaburras, who usually just laughed at everything, offered helpful advice about wind directions.

Finally, after three weeks of dedicated work, their masterpiece was complete – a magnificent red aeroplane, cobbled together from crashed toys but sturdy enough for a koala pilot. They'd even added a special perch for Peter behind the cockpit, complete with a tiny safety harness made from soft bark fibres.

"Perfect!" Peter declared, admiring their handiwork. "She's ready to fly!"

Tom's paws trembled with excitement as he climbed into the cockpit. Peter had shown him how to use the remote control, which they'd cleverly attached to the dashboard. With a deep breath and a thumbs-up from Peter, Tom started the engine.

The propeller whirred to life, and suddenly, they were moving! The plane bumped along the ground, faster and faster, until – whoosh! They were airborne!

"This is incredible!" Tom shouted as they soared above the trees. "We're actually flying!"

The Australian bush spread below them like a vast green carpet, but from up here, Tom could see it wasn't just one shade of green – it was hundreds. The eucalyptus trees showed off their silver-grey leaves, while the wattles added splashes of deeper emerald. Patches of paperbarks stood out with their pale, peeling trunks catching the morning light.

They flew over a sprawling billabong where the water mirrored the sky so perfectly it looked like another world below them. A platypus created ripples across the surface as it dove for breakfast, while long-legged jabirus stalked through the shallows, their black and white feathers stark against the water's edge.

Near the water, a group of dingoes were playing in the sunshine, their fur glowing golden in the light. Tom could see their puppies tumbling over each other in the grass, practising their hunting skills on grasshoppers that jumped away just in time. A little further on, an old dingo lay watching them, its grey muzzle resting on its paws.

"Look over there!" Peter called out, pointing with his wing. A mob of kangaroos lounged in a clearing filled with purple wildflowers. The bigger ones were stretched out in the sun, while the joeys practiced their boxing, bouncing around like furry jumping beans. One curious joey stopped mid-hop to watch the red plane pass overhead, nearly falling over backwards in surprise.

They passed over a rocky outcrop where a goanna was sunbathing on a flat stone. The ancient-looking creature barely flickered an eye at them, but nearby, a family of echidnas waddled through the underbrush, their spiky backs catching the sunlight like living pin cushions.

In a stand of ghost gums, a group of koalas – Tom's cousins perhaps – dozed in the branches. "I've never seen my relatives from this angle before!" Tom laughed, as one sleepy koala opened an eye to watch them pass.

The landscape changed as they flew further, revealing hidden treasures Tom had never imagined existed so close to home. They discovered a secret valley where a creek had carved patterns in the rock. Rainbow bee-eaters darted above the water, their jewel-coloured feathers flashing as they caught insects in mid-flight.

They soared over a field of grass trees, their long spiky leaves and tall flower spikes making them look like nature's sculptures. A wedge-tailed eagle soared past them, riding the thermal currents higher and higher, its massive wingspan casting a shadow over their little red plane.

In a clearing beneath them, a mob of emus ran in formation, their feathers bouncing like dancers' skirts. They followed a zigzag path only they could see, weaving between termite mounds that stood like tiny skyscrapers in their miniature city.

"Look at that!" Tom gasped as they passed over a hillside covered in flowering wattle. The golden blooms created a cascade of colour down the slope, and honeyeaters flitted among the flowers like busy shoppers at a market.

Near a rocky cliff face, they spotted a group of wallabies hopping between the boulders, moving with amazing agility. A kookaburra family perched on an old dead tree watched the wallabies' performance, occasionally breaking into raucous laughter that echoed across the landscape.

But as they flew over a patch of scribbly gums, Tom noticed the battery indicator on the remote was getting low. His stomach did a flip that had nothing to do with flying.

"Um, Peter?" he called nervously. "We might have a problem..."

Peter peered at the indicator and squawked in alarm. "Oh no! We'd better head back quickly!"

But in all their excitement, they'd forgotten to keep track of where they'd gone. The bush looked different from up high, and Tom's tree could have been any one of thousands below them. The mountains that had seemed so welcoming now felt like distant strangers.

"Don't worry," Peter reassured him. "Flying's what I do best! I'll help you find home!"

Using his excellent bird navigation skills, Peter guided Tom back towards familiar territory. He recognised landmarks Tom couldn't even see – a distinctively bent tree here, a unique rock formation there. They spotted the park where they'd collected the plane parts, and finally, Tom's eucalyptus tree came into view, standing tall and welcoming among its neighbours.

Just as the battery light started flashing red, they made a wobbly landing near Tom's tree. Both friends sat there for a moment, hearts racing from their close call.

Then they burst out laughing.

"What an incredible adventure!" Tom exclaimed, climbing out of the cockpit on shaky legs. "I never knew our home was so beautiful from above!"

"It certainly was!" Peter agreed. "And the best part is, we can do it again tomorrow – after we charge the battery, of course! Maybe we can explore the valley behind the mountains next time?"

That night, as Tom settled into his usual spot in his tree, everything looked different. He could see the beauty of the bush all around him, appreciate the way the sunset painted the sky in gorgeous colours, and hear the evening chorus of birds settling down for the night. Even his familiar eucalyptus leaves tasted better somehow, flavoured with the lingering excitement of the day's adventure.

But most importantly, he had a wonderful friend to share adventures with, and a bright red plane ready for their next journey. Sometimes, the best things in life weren't about escaping the ordinary, but about finding new ways to see what was always there.

"You know what, Peter?" Tom said to his friend, who was perched nearby, preening his feathers. "Sometimes the best adventures start right from your own tree."

Peter nodded wisely. "You're absolutely right, Tom. You're absolutely right."

 

 

This Grand Little Story for Grand Tropique, was co-authored by Ben Davis and AI, and edited by Cat Davis. Visit ⁠⁠Grand Tropique Pyjamas⁠⁠

Narrated on Spotify by Alex Davidson ⁠⁠Alex is on Tik Tok⁠⁠⁠⁠Visit Alex's Facebook Page⁠⁠⁠⁠Hire Alex on Upwork