The leader of the Alamo farm entered through a side door to the barn and mounted the steps of hay to the stage podium. The chickens clucked, the sheep baaed, the cows mooed, the horses whinnied, and the dogs howled in appreciation of their leader Reggie… Years after overthrowing their domineering leader, the animals of Alamo Farm revel in the fruits of their labor and all is well on Alamo Farm until two animals from a neighboring farm sneak through a hole in the fence separating the two farms. It is on this very day that things begin to change. Their diminished bodies evoke the sympathy of most Alamo residents and soon trouble brews when food is stolen and over time the wealthiest animals are taxed to help feed the poorest. Will the animals learn the visitors’ language and embrace their culture? Will the visitors be invited to stay on Alamo farm? Reggie sees dollar signs when he looks at the neighbors of T. Wanda farm and thinks the two should merge. Will the changes on Alamo farm be all that Reggie envisions or will the animals of Alamo farm have to band together to fight for their way of life, their farm, their freedom??
Chapter 1
The setting sun threw streaks of red across the whitened sky. Far to the east just above the peaks of the East Mountains, the beginning of night approached, for the sky there turned a dark blue. In a few more minutes the first stars of the night would appear over this farm land. The farm rolled over many acres of small hills and shallow valleys, all of which was green with grass or heavily covered with the coming harvest. Past the hills and the farm’s back fence were the largest most beautiful mountains in the land. Towards the front fence and near the farmhouse was a freshly painted red barn. Old splintered boards had been replaced with new ones, other boards were stripped of the old paint, sanded, and repainted, so the old barn looked brand new. South of the barn was the chicken coop, cleaned earlier today of the animals’ wastes, as it was everyday. Chickens clucked and flapped their nearly useless wings and walked out the door, heading towards the barn. Cows, recently drained by their evening milkings, grazed on the sweet grass outside the barn, waiting for word that they must enter. A group of horses stood opposite the cows and showed no interest in their bovine counterparts. The chickens clucked past the cows, and like the sheep, entered the barn early, for they wanted a place near the front. When the sun finally disappeared and its rays no longer cast light and the sky turned dark with pinpoints of lights shining weakly above, the most respected dog on the farm, an Australian Shepherd named Hilda, walked from out of the barn, announced it was time with her bark, and the horses and the cows entered the barn. This was Alamo Farm. Tonight was the monthly meeting of the animals. It was much anticipated, for all of the animals enjoy the proceedings of the night so much it has been suggested to make the meeting twice a month. Others want to meet once a week, and the youngsters after their first meeting want a meeting every night. But the elders and the leaders adhere to the original plan of the first Monday of the month for its allure was the anticipation. Anything more frequent and the animals might not enjoy the night as much. The barn was decorated with streamers of hay and wheat. Bales of hay established the stage and podium for tonight’s speakers. The roosters flapped their way to the loft rafters. Their hen partners remained with their children chicks closest to the stage. Sheep with their little lambs stood just behind the chickens. Behind the sheep, the cattle stood to one side and the horses and mules the other. Hilda and the other dogs corralled everyone into the barn and then found what open spots remained. Their puppies sat up front with the chicks and maintained their control for those mother hens were vicious as sitters. An overly-playful pup quickly received a sharp beak to its backside. The barn lights flickered and then dimmed. Spotlights illuminated the stage. For all the misery the rats usually caused, they did a tremendous job every month manning the lights. A moment later the leader of Alamo Farm entered through a side door to the barn and mounted the steps of hay to the stage and podium. The chicken clucked, the sheep baaed, the cows mooed, the horses whinnied, and the dogs howled in appreciation of their leader, Reggie. Reggie was a longhorn with large ears. Critics of Reggie claimed Reggie must have some long-eared mule in his family tree to own ears such as those. And Reggie’s penchant to be sometimes stubborn made the critics more certain of Reggie’s tainted ancestry. But most of the animals liked Reggie. He carried himself and presented himself as being a part of the farm. One never got the impression that Reggie’s status made him feel superior. Reggie stood behind the hay podium and smiled. He looked down at the young chicks and lambs and winked, and the youngsters thought this was the best. After a minute of cheering from the animals, they quieted and Reggie spoke. “Thank you so much. I really don’t deserve such applause. You should be applauding each other for work well done.” And the animals followed his cue and cheered for another minute, this time for each other. “That is great. Thank you all for coming. I hope you all look forward to the first Monday of the month as much as I do. This is always a fantastic night for me. And I’m sure as soon this night is over I will anticipate the coming of next month’s meeting. But we're getting ahead of ourselves. Let’s start this one and enjoy this one before we fret about the next one.” His voice rose with excitement. “How about the new barn?” He shouted and the animals once again cheered wildly. In between the cheering, a few animals leaned into their neighbor’s ear and commented on how nice the barn looks. A few of the roosters and a couple of the dogs, including Hilda, did not cheer. These, the critics of Reggie, saw the renovation of the barn not as an act of goodness from Reggie but a sign that election was soon approaching and Reggie’s four years were nearly up. The barn would go a long way in assuring support for Reggie. A few of the roosters and dogs thought their partners were being too cynical, claiming that the barn needed the new boards and the repainting. The timing of the barn renovation and the election being less than a year away was merely a coincidence. And coincidence or not, ulterior motive or not, the barn, they said, looked spectacular. “This barn,” Reggie continued, “is the result of your hard work. The past few months have been some of the most productive months in the history of Alamo Farm.” Again, he inflected the tone of his voice perfectly to prompt the animals to cheer, and cheer they did. “And as established long ago in our by-laws the fruits of our labor shall be justly rewarded. But before I turn it over to Lefty to tell the history of our farm, I want to take this opportunity to commend you, to applaud you. You, the fine animals of Alamo Farm, are what makes this farm the best farm in the world.” This was followed by more cheering. Reggie stepped down from the podium and stage. He stood off to the side. Lefty, a donkey, hoofed in front of the stage. Lefty never liked standing behind the podium or being on the stage. He said he preferred sitting back on his haunches closest to the youngsters to fully engage them and to captivate them. The animals said nothing of this white lie, for they all knew Lefty did not get up on stage because he couldn’t. Lefty was born with a gimpy right front hoof. Lefty, because of this abnormality, could not work as hard or produce as much as the other donkeys. He compensated by becoming the farm historian. He was also a vocal proponent of assuring help for other animals born with afflictions. Lefty clomped in front of the stage. His gait took on a strange rhythm with the gimpy right hoof. He sat back on his haunches as he liked to do and began. “Good evening.” The animals replied in unison. “Good evening.” “Reggie, thank you.” He looked over at the leader who nodded at the acknowledgement. “The barn looks fantastic.” A few animals cheered. Some of the older animals were a bit stunned by this. It was well known that though Lefty and Reggie spent much time together they were not particularly fond of each other. Lefty and Reggie dismissed this notion, claiming that though they disagreed on issues, they actually enjoyed each other’s company. “The renovation of the barn comes as a lovely way to make the young ones understand that it wasn’t always this nice. Alamo Farm was the not always the Alamo Farm we know and love today.” And so Lefty began the history lesson he taught every month. The young ones met this first lesson with a fair amount of resistance, but soon accepted and enjoyed. And the older animals seemed to love hearing the story even more having heard it dozens of times. “Alamo Farm used to be owned by a man named Elvis. Elvis established his own farm, called Farm of Elvis. His farm was quite successful. Elvis then decided he would increase his worth. He bought many farms all over the land and transported some of his animals to the new farms. One of those farms was this one. “The beginning of this farm was fairly successful. But, as time went on, Elvis spent less and less time maintaining this farm. His farms were so spread out he was able to only spend a few hours a week here. The animals here had to make do, and learned how to harvest the wheat and hay themselves. They learned how to milk the cows themselves. They learned how to plow the fields, and plant the seeds for themselves. They learned how to collect the eggs and clean the coop and clean the barn. In short, they learned how to do all of chores and job necessary to run a farm.” Lefty looked down at the youngsters, some of whom scoffed at this little story, for they too, even at such a young age, knew all the animals knew how to do these chores. Lefty continued. “Some of you may laugh, but we animals did not always know how to do these things. In fact, animals on neighboring farms still do not how do these things. So, you laugh because you know no better. “There was one aspect of running a farm that we did not know and that was how to buy supplies and trade eggs for feed and sell our harvest to the market. But, two pigs, two great and mighty pigs did. And they were George and Thomas. George and Thomas studied what Elvis did, made the similar connections, and were soon running that part of the farm. Soon after that, the animals of this farm realized they were doing all of the work and Elvis was collecting all of the money. They wanted the money and feed for their labor, not some distant ruler. Well, Elvis was not about to give up such a productive farm so easily, and the animals here grew angry and frustrated over the poor handling of Elvis and soon the animals of this farm revolted. And there was a great and mighty battle.” Lefty went on to describe the battle, his good left hoof thundering down on the dirt, the sound startling the children. His eyes grew wide and his ears stood on end to show surprise. At times his eyes looked nervous, nearly scared, and the young chicks, lamb, calves, and puppies hearing this for the first time matched Lefty’s expression and emotions. As he always did, Lefty spun such a yarn, he engaged all of the children into reliving the battle of the revolution along with him. Most of the older animals grew to think this part was quite embellished, but the children enjoyed it, and the adults, though they might not admit it, enjoyed the story of the battle as well. “We did, however, lose an important brother in the victorious battle. George died. Everyone turned to Thomas. He would have to be the new ruler. Then, some of the animals worried that Thomas wouldn’t be any better than Elvis. But, Thomas was a pig of extraordinary intelligence and selflessness.” Lefty looked up from the children and caught the eye of the adults. “Or he was concerned about his own self-preservation.” And the adults chuckled at this. Attention back on the youngsters, Lefty continued. “So, Thomas created what we now call the Thomas system.” “I’ve heard of that.” Hilda’s small pup named Winfield piped up. “Yes. You surely have all heard of the Thomas system. Thomas proclaimed when he took over as leader that if the animals on the farm thought he was not doing a decent job, they were to elect a new leader. This way, Thomas claimed, he would be sure to act in the best interest of the farm and not for himself. Today, we hold elections every four years. Do you know who we elected as our leader in the last election?” Winfield yipped. “I do. I do. Reggie.” “Very good, Winfield. And in nearly a year’s time we will vote on our leader. Either we will vote for Reggie again, or we will vote for someone new.” The older animals held their breaths. Rumor around the farm was that Lefty was considering a run for leader, but Lefty maintained his professionalism and said nothing of it at the meeting and said nothing ill of Reggie. Later, after the meeting, a few animals would debate on whether Lefty should have said something or if it was better he left politics out of the meeting. “Thomas did more than create an election process for leaders. Thomas realized that some animals worked very hard and others didn’t. Some horses worked harder than others. Some chickens produced more eggs than others. Some cows produced more milk than others. And Thomas wanted to reward those who worked hard, so he established the system we still live by today. With only a few modifications. Thomas paid all of the animals in feed based on how much was produced. A chicken who laid twice as many eggs as another hen received twice as much in feed. A cow who produced more milk received more hay. Horses who worked harder plowing the fields received more oats. You see children, there is a direct result between how much you produce and how much you receive. Your parents are able to provide you with your food because of their hard work.” This news always frightened the youngsters for they had never had to work. Necessities for life were provided for them by their parents and hearing that their parents worked for them induced guilt and learning they would have to work to provide for themselves induced anxiety. As happened every year, one youngster, this year being the exuberant pup Winfield, grew excited and claimed he would work harder than everyone combined and receive more food than anyone. The adults chuckled at his enthusiasm. His mother, Hilda, smiled at her young one’s bravado. Lefty continued with his lesson. The leader’s job was to buy the produce, harvest, work from the animals and then sell it to the market. That was a difficult job but with it came respect and admiration from all. “The leader,” Lefty explained, “makes a profit from selling our work to the market. Thomas decided that the money should go back into the farm. With that money, we buy better milking machines, better grass, more comfortable plows, and a renovated barn.” The barn erupted in cheers. When it quieted, Lefty continued, “You see children, your hard work will be rewarded. And when it is, Thomas discovered, you work even harder. And through all of these years of hard work, we have created the greatest farm in the land. We have created Alamo farm.” Again, the animals in the barn cheered and stomped like thunder. When it grew quiet, Lefty asked if anyone had any questions. Winfield yelped out in his tiny high-pitched voice. “How did we get the name Alamo Farm?” Lefty grinned. “That’s a good question, Winfield. And it is even a better story. And before I tell you the story, I will tell you I am not so sure this is true, but this is the legend. Our history books tell us that after the successful revolution, Thomas said that this farm was ‘all and more’ than he ever dreamed. And it is said that Thomas had quite the funny way of talking, and it sounded like he said ‘Alamo.’ That’s the story, anyway.” Lefty smiled at the youngster. “Any more questions?” Winfield, who had quite a bit of his late father in him, was not going to take anything for granted. He said. “We never see any other farms. We never go to any other farms. How do we know we are the best farm in the land?” The adult animals smiled at the young one’s astuteness. Lefty said, “You do know Cindy, don’t you?” Cindy was a carrier pigeon who flew from farm to farm spreading news or gossip. “The next time you see Cindy ask her which farm is the best farm.” The meeting concluded. They said goodnight to one another. The children walked a little taller, feeling a little older and a lot wiser. Some fretted about their coming responsibility. And parents recognized this and comforted with a hoof or a paw or a wing on the shoulder and assured their child everything would be okay. Winfield excitedly told his mother, Hilda, that he couldn’t wait to see Cindy to ask her. Hilda smiled, for she knew that though sometimes Cindy tainted the news to add excitement to her stories, she did for the most part tell the truth. And she would tell Winfield that Alamo Farm is the greatest farm in the world.
About Andrew Lynch
Andrew Lynch teaches high school English and coaches basketball. He spends his summers on the road, with the back roads of America and the European continent being his favorites. He is the author of The Terceira Trap. He lives in Southern California with his wife, Jennifer. Andrew is currently working on his third novel, Remember the Alamo.
The leader of the Alamo farm entered through a side door to the barn and mounted the steps of hay to the stage podium. The chickens clucked, the sheep baaed, the cows mooed, the horses whinnied, and the dogs howled in appreciation of their leader Reggie… Years after overthrowing their domineering leader, the animals of Alamo Farm revel in the fruits of their labor and all is well on Alamo Farm until two animals from a neighboring farm sneak through a hole in the fence separating the two farms. It is on this very day that things begin to change. Their diminished bodies evoke the sympathy of most Alamo residents and soon trouble brews when food is stolen and over time the wealthiest animals are taxed to help feed the poorest. Will the animals learn the visitors’ language and embrace their culture? Will the visitors be invited to stay on Alamo farm? Reggie sees dollar signs when he looks at the neighbors of T. Wanda farm and thinks the two should merge. Will the changes on Alamo farm be all that Reggie envisions or will the animals of Alamo farm have to band together to fight for their way of life, their farm, their freedom??
Andrew Lynch teaches high school English and coaches basketball. He spends his summers on the road, with the back roads of America and the European continent being his favorites. He is the author of The Terceira Trap. He lives in Southern California with his wife, Jennifer. Andrew is currently working on his third novel, Remember the Alamo.