Welcome to Silver Street Farm (4 page)

“Ever since we were in kindergarten, we’ve dreamed about making a farm in the city,” she began. “We want all Lonchester children to come to Silver Street Farm and see what farm animals are like, so that no one grows up thinking that eggs and milk comes from a carton.”

“Well, you heard it here first!” said Sashi. “More from Cosmic TV News at three.”

The red light went off.

“That was brilliant, kids!” said Sashi. “This story is going to be
so
big!”

“Yeah! Big!
So
big,” said Stewy. “Can I hold a duckling now?”

Sashi was right. The story spread through the city like wildfire.

Within hours, every TV and radio station was talking about it. Rockin’ Roland Rogers, Lonchester City FM’s most famous DJ, even hosted a call-in about it.

“So,” said Rockin’ Roland, “Mrs. O from Hopdown Flats, what would
you
like to say about these crazy kids and their plan to make old Silver Street Station into a farm?”

“I think it’s wonderful,” said Mrs. O in a shaky, old lady’s voice. “It’s not just the youngsters who would enjoy having farm animals at Silver Street. Us old folks would love it, too!”

“Jack Flash now on line three,” said Rockin’ Roland.

“It’s, like, brilliant,” said Jack. “Totally cool. I mean, the poodles being sheep, that was bad, but now kinda good. Yeah? Like, wow!”

“And just one more call. Hello, Jody on line two.”

“If the council doesn’t give Silver Street Station to the kids, I won’t vote for them,” said Jody, sounding very determined.

“Fighting talk there, Jody. And now for some music. The new single from Fake Tat —”

But the children didn’t have time to watch TV or listen to the radio, because soon after the very first broadcast on Cosmic TV, things got busy.

Meera, Gemma, and Karl were all at Gemma’s house, so that the lambs could run around on the tiny patch of lawn and the ducklings could swim in the old wading pool, when Meera’s cell phone rang. The only people who ever called her cell were Karl and Gemma, so it was a bit of a shock.

“Hello, Meera speaking!” said Meera, trying to sound grown-up.

“Hi Meera. It’s Sashi from Cosmic TV.” She sounded very stressed. “I think you guys need to get back down here. Somebody’s just delivered ten bales of hay and”— Sashi took a deep breath —“some chickens and
two real live goats
!”

The sidewalk outside Cosmic TV was blocked with a pet carrier full of clucking chickens and a huge pile of hay bales. Standing on top of the bales, contentedly munching hay, were two goats. One was pure white with sticking-up ears, and the other was chocolate brown with droopy ears.

“Wow!” said Gemma, who had been reading up about goat breeds. “A Saanen and a Nubian!”

But before the children had time to say hello to Silver Street’s first goats, Sashi rushed up looking very worried.

“We’re in trouble,” she said, and pointed to a very large, very round police officer who was standing by the hay bales. “I think you’d better speak to him.”

Nervously, the three children approached the officer. Close up, they could see that he was even bigger and angrier than he had at first appeared, but the moment he saw the children, the lambs, and the ducklings, his face broke into a big beaming smile.

“Ah!” he said, as if seeing the children and their animals was the biggest treat of his day. “I wondered when you’d get here!”

The police officer held out a huge hand for the children to shake. “I’m Sergeant Short,” he said. “And I presume you’re the youngsters who want to turn Silver Street Station into a city farm?”

Caught in Sergeant Short’s blue-eyed stare, the children could only nod.

“Well,” he said quietly, leaning down from his great height so that they could hear him whisper, “strictly off the record, I think that’s a great idea, but”— he straightened up to his official height again —“we can’t have goats and bales obstructing the public highway. So, my fellow officers and I will help you to get it all moved.” And the sergeant gave the children the biggest wink they’d ever seen.

Sergeant Short asked Sashi not to film the hay bales, chickens, lambs, goats, and ducklings being loaded into the back of a big police van by four police officers.

“Not sure how the police chief would see it, really,” he said. “Best keep it between us, eh?”

“Hop in!” said a young woman police officer with a big smile. She helped the children into the van, and they were off.

The children were too astonished to ask where they were being taken. Karl wondered anxiously if it was all just a trick and if they were about to go to prison. But when the doors opened, they found themselves at the far end of the park. The police had built a little compound for the animals using crash barriers and crowd-control netting.

In just a few minutes, the goats were happily nibbling hay and the chickens were scratching in the shade of the trees.

“You can’t stay here long,” said the sergeant, “but I’ve cleared it with the police chief until tomorrow. In the meantime, Julie — I mean Officer Worthing — will help keep an eye on things.”

Julie leaned out of the driver’s seat of the van.

“Sarge? Sarge! You need to see this!”

On a tiny television in the front of the police van, the Wire TV lunchtime news was just ending.

“We now bring you a live announcement from Lonchester City Council,” the newscaster was saying. The picture cut to a big man in a suit, standing outside of City Hall.

He looked
very
angry.

“I would like to read the following statement from Lonchester City Council,” the man began, already rather red in the face. “The council has for some time been planning to demolish Silver Street Station, in preparation for a new multistory parking garage.”

Meera gasped. Auntie Priya hadn’t told her
that!

“Lonchester City Council would like to reassure tax payers that there are no plans
whatsoever
to make this site into a city farm.”

As he said the words “city farm,” he made a face as if, Gemma thought, he’d swallowed a wasp.

“Furthermore,” he said, now looking so red that Karl wondered if he might explode, “we have decided to begin the demolition of Silver Street Station tomorrow at nine a.m. Thank you.”

Officer Worthing turned off the television. She seemed almost as upset as the children.

“Oh, dear,” she said. “Oh, dear. Oh, dear.”

Gemma buried her nose in a duckling’s comforting fluff, and Karl and Meera held the lambs extra close. Nobody said anything.

“All right,” said Sergeant Short. “I’ll admit that it doesn’t look good . . .”

The children shook their heads in gloomy agreement.

“But, you know what they say. . . .” He winked one of his huge winks. “It’s not over till the fat policeman sings.”

Sergeant Short and his officers worked to improve the temporary animal pens they had built earlier (Officer Worthing was particularly good with the goats). They carried bales of hay and fetched buckets of water from the fountain so the animals wouldn’t go thirsty. They even made the children a sort of tent from silvery emergency blankets so that they could spend the night with their makeshift farm in the park.

Just as the first story about Silver Street Station had spread, so did the news about the mini farm camped out in the park and the city council’s promise to demolish Silver Street Station. By early evening, the children were surrounded by a curious crowd and a flock of TV and radio reporters waving cameras and microphones.

In spite of what the city council had said about making Silver Street Station into a parking garage, people still wanted to hear about the children’s plans for a city farm. But answering the questions from the interviewers and the crowd made it all seem even sadder. Tomorrow, Silver Street Station would be flattened, no matter what the children’s plans had been, and all their newfound animals would be homeless.

“OK, ladies and gents,” Sergeant Short said at last, “just one more question, then I think you all need to go home! These young people should get some rest.”

The reporter from City Wire TV pushed through the crowds and shoved a big fluffy microphone under Meera’s nose.

“I’d like to ask,” he said with a nasty sneer, “what’s going to happen to all your fine plans when Silver Street Station is demolished tomorrow? Aren’t you just some rather foolish children with an even more foolish dream?”

The crowd gasped, and there were even a few quiet
boo
s.

Meera looked up at the reporter. Maybe he was right, she thought. Maybe all this time, ever since Gemma, Karl, and she had been friends, it had all been a silly, hopeless dream. For the first time in her life, Meera was lost for words; her mouth opened like a goldfish’s, but nothing would come out.

“Well,” said the reporter smugly. “I think
that’s
your answer!”

“Oh, no, it isn’t,” said Gemma, stepping up to him, ducklings peep-peeping from inside her shirt. “We may be kids, but we aren’t foolish. A city farm is a really,
really
good idea.”

The crowd murmured its approval.

“And do you know what?” said Karl. His voice wobbled a little, but it was still loud. “Maybe Silver Street Station
won’t
be demolished.”

“Well said!” cried several people in the crowd.

Meera looked at Karl and Gemma and was suddenly ashamed of giving in so easily. She jumped onto a hay bale so that she was eye to eye with the reporter, and she spoke out so that everyone could hear her.

“Yes,” she said. “That’s right! Maybe tomorrow morning the people of Lonchester will decide that they don’t want
another
parking garage and that they’d
much
rather have a city farm instead!”

The whole crowd exploded with cheering as if they’d been holding it in all along. The reporter scowled and slunk away.

Still standing on her hay bale, Meera could see that her parents, Auntie Nat, and Gemma’s brother, Lee, were waiting for them at the back of the crowd. And they were cheering loudest of all.