Short story - Smoked Kipper
Posted: Sat Oct 01, 2016 12:56 pm
It was the winter of 1973. I was 15 and had just started in my fourth year at secondary school. I was quite academic in some subjects but I was also a quite a mischievous little sod, to put it mildly. Me and my mates were always up to some kind of shenanigans in and out of class. During the Summer and Autumn months we’d we’d have been found congregating over the cowfields, hacking some or other old bike around the track but during the winter months it was too dark, cold and usually wet so we had to come up with other things to keep us occupied. One evening for instance we decided to make a nocturnal visit to the school after hours and pretend we were Special Ops Commandos by seeing if we could clamber up the drainpipes and onto the flat roof. Our little gang of errant SAS guerrillas consisted of the core crew; a lanky kid called Steven Yates, otherwise referred to as “Kipper” Gary Holt, nicknamed “Gooz” and Dave Crouch, a born troublemaker who we just referred to as “Crouch”, and of course myself.
We got up there ok and while clambering about on top of the roof we could see light coming from the skylights near the gymnasium so we stealthily crept across and peered down inside. Bingo! Lots of birds getting changed for squash and badminton.
The school often hired out its facilities in the evening. Two of the skylights just happened to be situated directly above the changing rooms and showers. For a gang of fifteen year old boys this was just too good to be true. All four of us positioned ourselves around the skylights and waited for the show to begin.
The changing rooms had emptied out now and so we waited patiently for the hot and sweaty birds to come back from their matches, strip off and get in the shower. After fifteen minutes of this however we were getting cold and bored. The squash or badminton matches were taking an interminably long time. We were all getting cramp up there on that cold roof.
Then, just as we were about to give it up as a dead loss, in they came. Half a dozen red faced girls, none of them more than twenty five years old bounded into the changing room chatting and giggling and began to strip off.
The four of us watched transfixed as the first one stripped naked and entered the shower, then another and another. Holy smoke, we’d hit pay dirt! This was more exciting than trying to get into a pub while being under aged.
We were all jostling with one another to get a better view when Kipper slipped and lost his footing. Unable to right himself in time his elbow smashed down onto the glass pane of the skylight, shattering it in an instant! Fortunately, the glass was the type that just broke into a million pieces of blunt edged balls. Unfortunately, that meant there was nothing to stop his fall – and through he went! Gooz managed to grab one of his legs as he fell and held on to him for dear life but the upper half of Kipper’s body was now dangling down from the ceiling inside the shower room.
Down below utter pandemonium broke out.
Showered by falling glass pellets, which thank god weren’t sharp or jagged, the girls began screaming at the top of their voices! Two of them banged into each other and slipped on the wet shower floor while the rest slewed out in blind panic.
Kipper was still dangling there in mid air above the two girls on the floor, with the rest of us above now trying to prevent him falling. It was like a scene out of a Carry On movie – gone wrong. Despite our efforts to pull him up out of the skylight, we knew it was impossible. Then the fire alarm went off. Oh oh! That was all we needed, the fire brigade turning up!
“Let him go!” I yelled. The other two looked at me in horror but to be honest they didn’t need much more persuading. They too knew he was never coming up so they released their grip and down he went landing right on top of those two hapless and naked girls who’s screams went from fear to terror stricken as he did so. I’ll never forget looking down at that scene of total chaos as Kipper Yates and two naked birds slithered around on the wet and glass pebble laden floor in an attempt to get away from each other.
Oh my God we were really in trouble now!
Realising there was nothing else we could do, we scarpered as fast as we could. Sirens were now wailing in the distance and we didn’t want to be rescued off the rooftops, if you know what I mean.
Fortunately, no real harm came of that prank gone wrong. The girls were obviously a bit shaken up and a little traumatised but they weren’t hurt. Kipper somehow managed to escape without getting caught too. For us it was just another night out and a bit of fun as far as we were concerned. - As was the following evening, when we put an old Suzuki trail bike through its paces that Kipper had gotten hold of from somewhere. It was too dark to ride it on the cow field. There were no markers and there were potholes that we knew about and could avoid during the day but at night it was just too treacherous so we decided to risk riding it on a small back road that we knew was usually deserted and rarely used. It was the perfect place to get up some speed without attracting too much attention. That night it turned very cold. There had been a slight snowfall that day and the road was a bit icy and slippery but that didn’t deter us. The bike had half worn trailie tyres so we had to watch it and it was a nippy little thing that Suzuki. The engine was bulletproof. You could thrash the living daylights out of it and try as we might we just couldn't kill it.
Kipper Yates, Gooz, Crouch and myself were taking it in turns to thrash up and down the road on the old crate. The rear light was smashed but fortunately it still had a working headlight, so at least we could see where we were going. For an hour or so all was well. We never saw another vehicle and we were having a great time. Then, when it came round to be Kipper’s turn again he jumped on, wheel-spinned off in a haze of blue smoke and disappeared into the darkness. Five minutes went by, then ten and still he hadn’t returned so we decided to go take a look thinking he’d probably run out of petrol. Then we saw lights in the distance coming from the other direction.
The lights got nearer. It was a car, the first one we’d seen all evening. Oh oh! Hold on a minute, it was a police car! That meant – make yerself scarce in a hurry. So we ducked into the bushes and waited till it had passed. It was really motoring along too, like it was after someone. A minute or so later we heard sirens and then from the same direction came a fire engine! It was then that we realised something was very wrong. The fire engine whooshed past at high speed in the same direction the cop car had gone and we ran off down the dark road in hot pursuit.
Rounding a sharp bend at the bottom we could finally see what all the commotion was about. There was a fire blazing in a small shack just off the road. The firemen were busily hosing it down and there were two police cars on the scene. We stayed well out of the way, watching from a distance in the bushes. Then I noticed the Suzuki lying on its side in a ditch. I only noticed it because its chrome exhaust was reflecting off the flames nearby. But where was Kipper? He was nowhere to be seen yet we knew he must have something to do with all this. We didn’t have to wait long to find out. Shouts could be heard coming from a nearby field. It was too dark to see who it was but then we spied two policemen dragging another person between them. As they got nearer to the flames we could see their silhouettes and it soon became clear that the person they had hold of was Kipper! Realising the game was up we scarpered.
When we eventually caught up with Kipper the next day he told us he’d just been released on bail after a night in the cells and that’s when we found out what had happened:
Basically, he’d careered around the sharp corner on the Suzuki, straight into the path of an oncoming police car. What luck eh! Hardly any vehicles came along that road, then when one does it’s a bloody cop car. It’s quite possible someone who lived along that road had called them. After all, we had been buzzing up and down it for a good hour or so. Seeing the cop car ahead Kipper had gotten spooked, lost control of the bike on the icy road and ended up in a ditch. Then he’d made a run for it. The Cops had turned round and chased after him but he’d managed to hide himself away in a disused chicken coop. The cops had spent several minutes searching around for him and had virtually given up when Kipper in his infinite wisdom decided to light up a ciggie. In doing so the stupid idiot set fire to the coop, which by the way was full of old dry straw. It went up like a roman candle. He told us he had no choice but to make a run for it or burn to death.
If ever I have smoked kippers for breakfast it always reminds me of that night.
Unbelievable! You couldn’t make it up if you tried.
We got up there ok and while clambering about on top of the roof we could see light coming from the skylights near the gymnasium so we stealthily crept across and peered down inside. Bingo! Lots of birds getting changed for squash and badminton.
The school often hired out its facilities in the evening. Two of the skylights just happened to be situated directly above the changing rooms and showers. For a gang of fifteen year old boys this was just too good to be true. All four of us positioned ourselves around the skylights and waited for the show to begin.
The changing rooms had emptied out now and so we waited patiently for the hot and sweaty birds to come back from their matches, strip off and get in the shower. After fifteen minutes of this however we were getting cold and bored. The squash or badminton matches were taking an interminably long time. We were all getting cramp up there on that cold roof.
Then, just as we were about to give it up as a dead loss, in they came. Half a dozen red faced girls, none of them more than twenty five years old bounded into the changing room chatting and giggling and began to strip off.
The four of us watched transfixed as the first one stripped naked and entered the shower, then another and another. Holy smoke, we’d hit pay dirt! This was more exciting than trying to get into a pub while being under aged.
We were all jostling with one another to get a better view when Kipper slipped and lost his footing. Unable to right himself in time his elbow smashed down onto the glass pane of the skylight, shattering it in an instant! Fortunately, the glass was the type that just broke into a million pieces of blunt edged balls. Unfortunately, that meant there was nothing to stop his fall – and through he went! Gooz managed to grab one of his legs as he fell and held on to him for dear life but the upper half of Kipper’s body was now dangling down from the ceiling inside the shower room.
Down below utter pandemonium broke out.
Showered by falling glass pellets, which thank god weren’t sharp or jagged, the girls began screaming at the top of their voices! Two of them banged into each other and slipped on the wet shower floor while the rest slewed out in blind panic.
Kipper was still dangling there in mid air above the two girls on the floor, with the rest of us above now trying to prevent him falling. It was like a scene out of a Carry On movie – gone wrong. Despite our efforts to pull him up out of the skylight, we knew it was impossible. Then the fire alarm went off. Oh oh! That was all we needed, the fire brigade turning up!
“Let him go!” I yelled. The other two looked at me in horror but to be honest they didn’t need much more persuading. They too knew he was never coming up so they released their grip and down he went landing right on top of those two hapless and naked girls who’s screams went from fear to terror stricken as he did so. I’ll never forget looking down at that scene of total chaos as Kipper Yates and two naked birds slithered around on the wet and glass pebble laden floor in an attempt to get away from each other.
Oh my God we were really in trouble now!
Realising there was nothing else we could do, we scarpered as fast as we could. Sirens were now wailing in the distance and we didn’t want to be rescued off the rooftops, if you know what I mean.
Fortunately, no real harm came of that prank gone wrong. The girls were obviously a bit shaken up and a little traumatised but they weren’t hurt. Kipper somehow managed to escape without getting caught too. For us it was just another night out and a bit of fun as far as we were concerned. - As was the following evening, when we put an old Suzuki trail bike through its paces that Kipper had gotten hold of from somewhere. It was too dark to ride it on the cow field. There were no markers and there were potholes that we knew about and could avoid during the day but at night it was just too treacherous so we decided to risk riding it on a small back road that we knew was usually deserted and rarely used. It was the perfect place to get up some speed without attracting too much attention. That night it turned very cold. There had been a slight snowfall that day and the road was a bit icy and slippery but that didn’t deter us. The bike had half worn trailie tyres so we had to watch it and it was a nippy little thing that Suzuki. The engine was bulletproof. You could thrash the living daylights out of it and try as we might we just couldn't kill it.
Kipper Yates, Gooz, Crouch and myself were taking it in turns to thrash up and down the road on the old crate. The rear light was smashed but fortunately it still had a working headlight, so at least we could see where we were going. For an hour or so all was well. We never saw another vehicle and we were having a great time. Then, when it came round to be Kipper’s turn again he jumped on, wheel-spinned off in a haze of blue smoke and disappeared into the darkness. Five minutes went by, then ten and still he hadn’t returned so we decided to go take a look thinking he’d probably run out of petrol. Then we saw lights in the distance coming from the other direction.
The lights got nearer. It was a car, the first one we’d seen all evening. Oh oh! Hold on a minute, it was a police car! That meant – make yerself scarce in a hurry. So we ducked into the bushes and waited till it had passed. It was really motoring along too, like it was after someone. A minute or so later we heard sirens and then from the same direction came a fire engine! It was then that we realised something was very wrong. The fire engine whooshed past at high speed in the same direction the cop car had gone and we ran off down the dark road in hot pursuit.
Rounding a sharp bend at the bottom we could finally see what all the commotion was about. There was a fire blazing in a small shack just off the road. The firemen were busily hosing it down and there were two police cars on the scene. We stayed well out of the way, watching from a distance in the bushes. Then I noticed the Suzuki lying on its side in a ditch. I only noticed it because its chrome exhaust was reflecting off the flames nearby. But where was Kipper? He was nowhere to be seen yet we knew he must have something to do with all this. We didn’t have to wait long to find out. Shouts could be heard coming from a nearby field. It was too dark to see who it was but then we spied two policemen dragging another person between them. As they got nearer to the flames we could see their silhouettes and it soon became clear that the person they had hold of was Kipper! Realising the game was up we scarpered.
When we eventually caught up with Kipper the next day he told us he’d just been released on bail after a night in the cells and that’s when we found out what had happened:
Basically, he’d careered around the sharp corner on the Suzuki, straight into the path of an oncoming police car. What luck eh! Hardly any vehicles came along that road, then when one does it’s a bloody cop car. It’s quite possible someone who lived along that road had called them. After all, we had been buzzing up and down it for a good hour or so. Seeing the cop car ahead Kipper had gotten spooked, lost control of the bike on the icy road and ended up in a ditch. Then he’d made a run for it. The Cops had turned round and chased after him but he’d managed to hide himself away in a disused chicken coop. The cops had spent several minutes searching around for him and had virtually given up when Kipper in his infinite wisdom decided to light up a ciggie. In doing so the stupid idiot set fire to the coop, which by the way was full of old dry straw. It went up like a roman candle. He told us he had no choice but to make a run for it or burn to death.
If ever I have smoked kippers for breakfast it always reminds me of that night.
Unbelievable! You couldn’t make it up if you tried.
