Sammi and Dusty (4 page)

When Sammi woke up the next Saturday, he felt different. Usually, and always on school days, he wanted to hide his head under the duvet and go back to sleep. But today he knew there was something to look forward to. What was it? He sat upright in bed. That was it – City Farm, and Dusty the donkey! He jumped out of bed and got ready as fast as he could. It was a beautiful sunny day, and he didn’t want to waste any of it!

There was just one thing he didn’t want to forget. Before leaving the house, he checked in the fridge for vegetables.

‘What are you looking for?’ demanded his mum.

‘Carrots,’ said Sammi. ‘I promised the donkey I’d take him a treat.’

His mum looked as though he’d gone mad. ‘The
donkey
!’ she exclaimed.

‘All the animals at City Farm get treats,’ said Sammi. ‘Please, Mum!’

His mum rolled her eyes, then smiled. ‘It’s good to see you looking happier, Sammi,’ she said. ‘There’s a bag of carrots right in the bottom drawer. Don’t take all of them though, we need some for
our
dinner!’

Sammi grinned. He grabbed a couple and stuffed them into his pocket, then headed for the door. ‘See you later!’ he called, and ran out to catch the bus.

Once he’d arrived at City Farm, he let himself in through the big iron gates and went straight round to Dusty’s field. Dusty was grazing, but he heard Sammi coming and immediately gave an enormous ‘Ee-yore!’

‘All right, all right, Dusty,’ said Sammi, in Pashtun. ‘You can stop making such a noise now.’

The donkey came over to the fence, still braying. Sammi let himself into the field and went to meet him, patting him on the neck and stroking his soft grey nose. Dusty’s ears were pricked.

‘I know what you can smell!’ laughed Sammi. He reached into his pocket and fetched out one of the carrots. ‘Here you are.’

Dusty gobbled the carrot greedily. Then he started nosing Sammi’s pockets for more.

‘No more just yet,’ Sammi told him. ‘I’m saving that for later!’ He left Dusty in the field, and went to fetch the long rope so that he could bring him in to the yard. To his surprise, there were three men standing by the storeroom. They didn’t look like they belonged on the farm, because they wore yellow hard hats and bright yellow fluorescent jackets.

One of them had a big tape measure in one hand, and a clipboard in the other. ‘I reckon we start at the far end,’ he was saying. ‘Over by the field there.’

‘Good idea,’ said another. ‘I’ll take one end of the tape—’

‘Oh no, you don’t!’ bellowed a voice. ‘You’re not starting anywhere!’

Sammi spun round. Rory the farm manager was marching towards the men, his white hair standing up wildly and his wrinkled face bright red.

‘You have no right to be here!’ Rory shouted. ‘No one’s signed any papers yet! You get out of our farm!’

The men looked startled, and backed off a little bit. ‘But we’re from the council...’ one of them began.

‘Well, you go right back to the council!’ roared Rory. ‘And don’t you dare set foot here again without the correct papers!’

‘We’re just trying to save everyone time,’ said another of the men. ‘If we can just get the site measured up...’

‘
Waste
everyone’s time, more like!’ Rory was really angry. ‘We haven’t given our consent for any of this. You’ll see – City Farm will stay just the way it is!’

The men were looking uneasy. They began to make their way to the car park in the front yard, with Rory ushering them forwards. Sammi followed them, feeling curious. He couldn’t work out what was happening – why was Rory so angry?

‘We’re going for now,’ said one of the men, as he got into his car. ‘But you should know the council’s position. As far as we’re concerned, City Farm will close on Sunday October the twelfth. And that’s final, I’m afraid.’

‘It will do nothing of the sort!’ said Rory. ‘And now, please leave!’

Sammi’s mouth dropped open. City Farm – close? But why? He watched as the men started the engine, and screeched out of the gates.

When they had gone, Rory’s anger disappeared. His shoulders sagged, and he looked terribly sad. Sammi thought he seemed ten years older.

‘Is this true?’ asked Sammi. ‘They close City Farm?’

‘I’m afraid so, lad,’ said Rory, his voice quiet now. ‘We’ll do our best to save it, but you heard what they said. Time’s running out. October the twelfth...’ His voice drifted, and he looked into the distance, as though his whole life was falling away.

A thought occurred to Sammi. ‘Where animals go, if it close?’ he asked.

Rory looked sadder than ever. ‘That’s a very good question,’ he replied. ‘We don’t know. We’ll have to find new homes for all of them, or they’ll be homeless.’ He gave a big, heavy sigh. ‘And, for that matter, so will I.’

‘You?’ Sammi wondered if he’d understood properly.

‘I live here, lad,’ said Rory. He waved towards an old farmhouse, tucked behind the barn. ‘This is my home. Has been for years. If the animals go, I go too. It’s the end of City Farm.’

‘But this very bad.’ Sammi shook his head.

‘It’s bad, all right,’ nodded Rory. ‘But the way things are going, there may not be much we can do about it.’

* * *

Sammi went back to Dusty’s field feeling shocked. He had imagined that England was a very safe place, where no one ever lost their home. Now he realized that things could change here too, and he felt sorry for Rory and all the animals.

He was just bringing Dusty into the yard when Asha appeared. He could tell from her face that she wasn’t feeling happy. Maybe she’d heard the news about the farm too.

‘Hi, Sammi,’ she said. ‘How are you today?’

‘Me, I am fine,’ said Sammi. ‘I think City Farm not fine.’

Asha looked as though she might burst into tears. ‘No, it’s not,’ she agreed. ‘We’re going to have a meeting to talk about it soon. Would you like to come?’

‘Yes, I come!’ said Sammi at once. ‘I just give Dusty food.’

‘Oh, yes,’ said Asha. ‘There’s no hurry, we’ve all got chores to do first. Come when you’ve finished with Dusty.’

‘I come,’ repeated Sammi.

He led Dusty into the stall that Asha had shown him and fetched the donkey some fresh hay from the feed room. Dusty snorted happily, and began pulling at his hay net. Sammi brought him a bucket of fresh water, then watched him for a moment. He was thinking. In Afghanistan, he’d ridden his cousin’s donkey many, many times.

‘How would you feel about having a rider, Dusty?’ he asked the donkey, in Pashtun.

Dusty flicked his ears to and fro lazily. He was completely relaxed. Sammi placed a hand on his neck. Dusty turned from his hay to butt Sammi’s arm affectionately. Sammi grinned. He placed one hand on the donkey’s mane and jumped lightly onto his back. Dusty stopped eating and took a few steps back in surprise.

‘It’s OK, it’s OK,’ Sammi murmured to him. ‘It’s only me.’

Dusty stood quietly, then snorted again. Sammi reached forward and scratched him, all the way up to the ears. Then he lay down along his neck and hugged him, and Dusty turned his head back, his ears pricked in curiosity.

‘Good boy,’ said Sammi happily. He slid back down to the ground. ‘I’ll give you a proper ride next time, out in the field. You’ll like that!’ he told the donkey.

Dusty was still calm and happy. He hadn’t ‘ee-yored’ noisily at all this morning. He went back to his hay net, and carried on munching. Sammi felt a buzz of excitement. He and Dusty were going to have so much fun! After one last pat, he left his friend reluctantly, and headed up to the barn.

Asha and Jack were already inside, sitting on the sofa, with Rory in one of the armchairs and other people dotted around. Sammi scanned the room for somewhere to sit, and spotted a familiar face.
Oh, no!
he thought. All at once, his nerves came flooding back. It was Bea, the cafe worker – the one who’d been picking the flowers...

Shame washed over him. He lowered his gaze and began to inch his way across the room.

But to his surprise, Bea called him. ‘Come on in, Sammi!’ she cried. ‘Asha’s explained all about that big old swan. She’s a tricky one, she is. Enough to frighten the life out of anyone! Come, come.’ She patted the seat next to her. ‘You’ll be just fine here!’

Sammi looked up at her timidly. Bea had warm brown eyes, and round rosy cheeks that looked like little red apples when she smiled. Asha was right. She really did look friendly!

‘Yes, yes, make yourself comfortable, Sammi,’ said Kerry, appearing from her office. ‘You’re just in time. We’re about to begin.’

Sammi perched on the edge of the chair next to Bea. In spite of everyone’s welcome, he felt a little bit self-conscious. He’d only visited City Farm twice – surely he wasn’t important enough to take part in the meeting? He wasn’t even sure if he’d be able to understand everything.

But once everyone started talking, he understood only too well. There was one big problem. It was as the council men had said: unless they were able to find a solution very fast, City Farm would close on Sunday 12 October – just two weeks from now.

‘We must let the whole community know,’ said Bea. ‘City Farm is really popular. If everyone knew what the council was planning, they’d be really shocked! They’d never let it happen.’

‘We should have a demonstration – a protest march!’ said Jack.

‘Yes! Yes!’ Asha leaped at the idea. ‘That’s a brilliant idea, Jack! I’ll chain myself to the City Farm gates! Or... or... maybe I’ll go on hunger strike! Or why not both? I could chain myself up and be on a hunger strike at the same time!’

‘Steady on, lass,’ said Rory. ‘There’s little enough of you as it is.’

‘But we have to do something dramatic!’ cried Asha. ‘I can’t
bear
for the farm to close.’

Kerry smiled at Asha’s enthusiasm. ‘Well, I really appreciate that you want to make an impact, Asha,’ she said. ‘But I think we can do that without you chaining yourself up. Or starving yourself. We just need to let the council know that City Farm is very important to the community – too important to close.’

‘So how do we do that?’ asked Jack.

‘Well – one way would be a petition,’ said Kerry. ‘If lots of people sign, saying that they value the farm and want it to stay open, the council will be placed in a difficult position.’

‘Aye. But we need people to show their faces too,’ said Rory. ‘We need open support. I say we get everyone who supports us to come here on October the twelfth. If there’s enough of us, they won’t dare close us down.’

‘Oh! I know hundreds of people who’ll come!’ exclaimed Asha. ‘All the people from my school, and all the people I met in hospital, and everyone from my mum’s work, and my dad’s work, and we can ask Laura to bring everyone from the Braille school, and then there’s my swimming club...’

‘Yes, that’s exactly the right idea,’ said Kerry. ‘I’m sure we can all think of groups of people we can ask. But we can ask strangers too – people in the community nearby who know about the farm and have perhaps visited it.’

Sammi sat listening. He understood more or less what was going on. He didn’t know what ‘petition’ was, but he gathered they were discussing all the people who might be able to save the farm. He had known so many people in Afghanistan, but he knew hardly anyone here. Just his uncle, his mum, and his little sister Giti. Who else was there? No one. He began to feel miserable again. His two days at City Farm had been his happiest for a long time, but they were coming to an end almost before they’d started.

Kerry disappeared into her office for a few moments, and came back with some neatly printed sheets.

‘Here we are,’ she announced. ‘I’ve made some petition sheets. It says at the top, “We wish the council to know that City Farm is a much-loved and valuable part of our community. Its closure is against our wishes and we demand that the council reconsider its decision.” Then there are rows for people to write their names and put their signature. Is that OK?’

‘Perfect,’ said Rory.

‘And we can invite everyone who signs the petition to come and join us on the twelfth. Even if we don’t succeed, we’ll have brought the community together one last time,’ said Kerry.

‘Oh, but it has to succeed!’ cried Asha. ‘When the council see how many people love it here, they’ll never be able to close us down!’

‘You could be right, lass,’ said Rory. ‘Here, Kerry, let me give those out to everybody.’

Rory stood up and began to hand out the petition sheets. Sammi could feel his heart beating faster as he took one. There was no way he could help. Why did life have to be so difficult? He’d only just started settling into City Farm, and now he’d been given something he couldn’t do. He felt almost panicky. He didn’t know anyone who would sign. He had to get out of it somehow... Ideas raced through his head. Maybe he could pretend to sign lots of names himself. But he didn’t know many English names, and his English letters were still wobbly and babyish.
Think of something. Think of an excuse
, he said to himself. But his mind was completely blank. He was stuck. What on earth was he going to do?