A Sustainable Dream

Kayla took her coffee to the veranda and sat back in the old rocking chair, surveying the landscape. The scene before her was a dream come true: trees laden with fruit; vines, canes and bushes overloaded with berries; a forest of colour as vegetables grew to abundance. Tiny blue wrens flew from tree to tree; wattle birds fed on the cyclamen and higher above a wedge-tailed eagle circled the sky. Beyond towered the mountain, its colour ever changing with the seasons and the light.

Her breath still caught at the beauty of it all. She’d worked so hard to have her own slice of heaven; juggling two jobs while James was raised by his teachers during the day and her parents most other times. She’d thought she’d never make it, until her father passed her the newspaper, a bright red circle highlighting a rundown old farmhouse. A small mortgage was all she needed to become the new owner of Tier View Farm. A mortgage – and the job to pay it.

Tier View Farm was three hours’ drive from the city, ten minutes to the nearest town. Kayla despaired finding work until she stumbled across the local school and learned they needed a librarian. Two days a week gave her the income to finance the loan and so much more. She found a deep satisfaction from the knowledge she could finally be the mother her son needed, and not someone who simply kissed his forehead before rushing out to the next money earner.

She sipped her coffee, closing her eyes as she pushed off the ground to set the chair on its rhythmic sway. Could life get any better? In the distance she heard the rumble of the bus, the shouts of children. Moments later James’s feet crunched along the gravel path, then the front door clicked.

“Home!” he called.

“Here!”

He emerged onto the veranda, his school bag probably dumped by the door.

“Mr. Jones wanted me to give you this.” He passed her a letter. Turning to go back into the house he paused. “There’s rumours the school is closing.”

“Who said that?” Kayla frowned.

James shrugged. “Some kids at school.”

Kayla opened the letter. It was brief, asking her to come in earlier the following day.

“I doubt it, James.” She folded the letter, dismissing the fear James’ words had introduced.

“How was school?”

“Good.”

“What did you do?”

“Not much.”

“Any homework?”

“No.” James’ conversational skills were typical of many his age and Kayla had long since given up trying to coax more out of him.

“Don’t forget to empty your school bag and change out of your uniform,” she called as he headed to his room, ready for an afternoon of video games. Kayla sighed. Despite her neglectful upbringing James had turned out to be a good kid. He helped her with scarcely a grumble, and he worked hard around the property. She’d been surprised when he said he loved it too. Growing up a city kid she expected he would hate living in the country but the lifestyle came naturally to him, and he’d grown strong and healthy in the year since their move.

*

The next morning Kayla arrived at the school to find the entire staff of eight crammed into the principal’s tiny office. The groundsman was present alongside the teachers, aide, and administration assistant.

Mr. Jones cut straight to the point. “I’m here to confirm the rumours.” He cleared his throat. “Our funding has been cut; small schools are deemed to be a waste of resources. The school will close at the end of term and we will merge with the school at Narellan.”

The shocked silence was followed by a barrage of objections.

“They can’t expect the children to travel so far!”

“What about the community?”

“What about our jobs?”

Mr Jones shook his head, hands raised for quiet. “The permanent teachers will have a job at Narellen, but there are no guarantees for anyone else, and opportunities for more jobs in the school are not promising.”

The questions continued but Kayla heard none of them. She saw only her home, owned by another; she and James thrust back into a dingy suburban rental. In this community a single shop covered the basics: petrol, post office, general store – all rolled into one. The school provided her only chance of work. Without it, she couldn’t afford her mortgage. Her dream was dashed.

*

At home, dinner was subdued. An assembly had been held so James knew the worst had been confirmed. Kayla couldn’t eat, pushing her vegetables around her plate instead.

“I don’t know what to do. We’ll have to sell up, move back to town.” She glanced at James. “At least you’ll be able to see more of your grandparents.” She forced a smile. “They’ll be pleased to have us nearby.”

“You’re looking at this the wrong way mum.” James looked at her with genuine surprise. “I can’t believe you’re giving up so easily.”

Kayla returned her sons shocked look. “What do you mean?”

“We have the farm. It’s only small, but there’s enough land here. We could make money from the garden.”

“Sorry?”

“We’ve got too much produce, you’ve said so yourself. Why not sell it? That should help pay the mortgage; buy us a few extras. We could survive on what we’ve grown.”

“Oh James… that’s a wonderful thought, but it’s too big a job just for me.”

“I’ll help.”

“When? You’ll have to leave an hour earlier to get to school; you wouldn’t be back till dinner time. You’ll be too exhausted, and in winter it will be too dark.”

James rolled his eyes. “Homeschool me. It’s not like you can’t teach. You’re giving up too easily mum.”

Kayla felt a weight lift from her shoulders as she imagined a new future: fresh produce in summer; preserves in winter. The cellar was already filling with produce. With James’ help, it was possible. And that would be her dream truly fulfilled.