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Reid Platters, the temporary manager of John's farm, was an agricultural degree student. He lived in the farm cottage; a small house tucked on a rise above the road a couple of hundred metres away and across from the local tiny country school. He was, therefore, unaffected by John's arrival in the main house and it didn't take much to persuade him to remain with them until late February when the new university semester began. This was a wise decision as Reid had an excellent knowledge of New Zealand sheep farms and the intricacies of Top Oasis in particular.
As Gerard had said, the farm was under stocked but without the burden of a heavy mortgage the previous owner had, could provide a modest income, even with the current depressed meat and wool prices. The season's lambs had been sold at a higher than expected price and shearing was complete. Two paddocks, as Reid called the fields, had been cut for hay and one other was ready for cutting. A local contractor baled the hay that was stored in a hay shed, really just an iron roof held up by eight steel poles. Unlike at home, there was no large barn, as the animals did not need to be held inside during the winter months. Two hundred beef cattle supplemented the three thousand sheep on the property.
The farm consisted of steep hills with a farm track that provided access up to a top plateau. Along the back boundary was another road, narrow and used so little that grass grew along the middle. Beyond, the land dipped back down into a steep bush filled gorge with a mountain stream at the bottom. Water was pumped from the stream to three large concrete tanks on the plateau and, from there, gravity fed back to the farm paddocks and buildings. In Reid's opinion, the farm needed top dressing and spraying to rid the land of thistles and many fences were in need of upgrading. Otherwise, it was in excellent condition.
"Those small plantations of pine trees on the steeper slopes throughout the farm help to prevent slips," he commented as he drove the ancient Land Rover that came with the farm, along the dusty track high above the farm house, "Have a look at the Blackburn farm the next time you go to town. It has no trees and tiny slips are everywhere. This country is prone to slips,"
"I noticed the trees and thought that might be the case. There's quite a plantation over there." John nodded to his left.
"Newson's place, your neighbour and brother of your predecessor," Reid replied. “Did you hear about Hamish and Diane Newson?"
"Not really." John glanced across up at his companion. "The agent just rang and said this property had come available through a mortgagee sale and was I interested? I had a tentative offer on a property further south but, in my opinion, it was overpriced so I decided to buy here instead."
"The silly bugger shot himself," Reid explained. "There's been a rash of suicides of farmers in the country over the last year or so."
John grimaced. "Did he? I didn't know."
"Third or forth generation farmer, he was," Reid continued. "His old man wasted the place away but was too miserable to hand it on to Hamish. Anyhow, to cut a long story short, the father dropped dead a decade back and left this farm to Hamish and his brothers." Reid grunted and pulled a wide floppy hat down over his eyes to shield out the blazing sun. "Bloody mean move, actually. The brothers had left home years ago and Hamish had worked on a pittance for his father since he'd left school. He arranged two large mortgages to buy one brother out just as farm incomes dropped. Two other brothers own farms in the valley. It was originally one massive estate." He shrugged and continued. "Anyway, when the bank was about to foreclose Hamish just went up to the top pump shed and blew his brains out. Mind you, he'd been depressed for months and Diane really ran the place.”
"How tragic!" John shook his head in sympathy. "I've heard of similar situations back home. What happened to the wife?"
"She tried to cope for a while but the banks still wanted their money, your tender at the mortgagee sale was accepted and I was approached to manage the place until you arrived. The last I'd heard, she'd shifted to Auckland."
They reached a level section when a four wheeled farm bike followed by a cloud of dust came roaring towards them. It jerked to a stop beside the now stationary Land Rover and Julie pulled a crash helmet off her face. Helen, also enclosed in a helmet, clung on behind her big sister and stared at her father with twinkling eyes.
"Grandma said the coffee pot is brewing, Daddy," she called. "Come and get it. You too, Reid."
John frowned at the pair. "You be careful, Julie," he scolded. "And don't you dare go up the steep trail with Helen on the back. It's too dangerous."
"I wasn't, Dad," Julie replied with a pout and turned back to her sister. "Hang on Helen," she shouted and revved the motor. Clouds of blue smoke filled the air, the farm bike circled out over the paddock and headed back towards the house.
John laughed. "She's got to know the girl next door, found out nobody over six calls their father Daddy in New Zealand so it's now Dad, whether I like it or not. They learn fast, don't they?"
"Sure do," agreed Reid and started the Land Rover forward again. "You said Julie's only twelve and is still at primary school?"
"That's right," John answered. "She's quite mature for her age, I guess. She was at junior high at home but I was told the local primary schools take children to Year 8, the class she'll be in. Next year we'll have to send her to a boarding school and I'm glad she's home for this year." he chuckled. "Helen's thrilled her big sister will be at the same school as herself."
"Same room, too," Reid grunted.
"How come?" John frowned.
"It's another long story," the manager replied. "I'll tell you about it some time but briefly, half the kids have left Long Valley School, the roll has dropped below twenty and they've lost the second teacher. It's what we call a sole charge at the moment and the rumour is the school will close at the end of the first term."
"That's bad news," John muttered. "That was one thing I checked out before I bought the property. I was assured there was schooling available."
"There still will be," Reid explained. "They'll run a bus through to Junction Road School in the next valley. That's where many of the valley kids are going, anyway, especially those living further up the road from here."
"I see," John replied. "That's a relief."
The conversation changed back to farm topics and, John diverted his attention to other items. There was so much to learn in a new country. The next day, though, the news about the local school was going to return to his notice and alter his family's lives in the weeks ahead.
*
During their first two weeks at Top Oasis neighbours dropped in to introduce themselves and welcome the Americans to the district. Most appeared typical country folk who tended to be closer to Fiona's age than John's. One of the younger ones was a woman in her thirties called Linda McLean who drove in one afternoon with three young children. She sent her children to find Julie and Helen, accepted an offer of a drink of coffee, sat down and began talking.
"We've got a car pool going to take the children to school. I thought you might like to participate," she began in an even more British accented voice than the usual New Zealand one. "Bruce and Janice Cheever are running such a wonderful program at their school. They're a husband and wife teaching team who do a simply marvellous job." She stopped and sipped her coffee. "Diane who was here had joined the car pool before she left. Sad situation with Hamish... I guess you heard about poor Hamish. Mind you he'd ...
"Yes," interrupted Fiona.
John frowned. "Why do you need a car pool?" he asked. "The school's only five hundred yards up the road. In the summer the kids could just walk there."
"Not that school, John." Linda McLean rolled her eyes. “We all support Junction Road School now. When the local ones closes we'll be able to apply for a proper bus service." She sighed. "Let's hope that happens before winter."
"I see," John replied with an unusual coldness in his voice. "So you want us to bypass the local school for one a half hour's drive away?"
Linda McLean hesitated. "It's your decision, of course, but I need to tell you your oldest daughter in particular, won't like it at Long Valley School. She'd be the only pupil in Year 8 and the teacher there..." She shrugged, "Well, you know!"
"No I don't know, Mrs. McLean," John said. "Sure, I've heard a few rumours but I wish to form my own decision about the teacher and school and not depend on biased opinions. Wouldn't you agree?"
The woman flushed. "Of course," she muttered, “but if you want to send your girls over to Junction Road, I just wanted to let you know about the car pool."
*
"John," Fiona scolded after their neighbour had made a hasty departure. "You were almost rude to that woman. I know she gossips a little but she is a neighbour."
"The old bat," he retorted. "I can't stand those over bearing woman. If she spent her time getting fit and losing weight instead of gossiping she'd be better off. Damned if I'm going to bypass the local school because she had a difference of opinion with the teacher."
"I heard two views," Fiona added. "Half the valley supports Kylena and half are trying to have the school closed down under her."
"Kylena?"
"Kylena Delton, the principal and only teacher at Long Valley School. I heard there would be only twelve children enrolled this coming term compared with twenty three last year."
"Oh, how come?" In spite of himself, John was interested.
"Three went off to high school and four families are sending their kids to Junction Road. Two other families already shifted across a few months back. One was the McLean family."
"And you know why, don't you Fiona?" John said and grinned. His mother-in-law was as good as anybody at picking up the local gossip.
"Not really," she replied. "There was a big bust up last year. The locals reckoned Miss Delton wasn't teaching their kids very well. Also there was a big lout of a boy who tried to run the show and the teacher put him on a three-day suspension over something. Unfortunately, he was the Board of Trustees chairman's son and the father didn't appreciate his son being reprimanded. He resigned from the board and withdrew his three children." She grinned. "The boy responsible for all the trouble is off to some snobby boarding school this year."
"Sounds like home," John chuckled and glanced up. "Tell me, is this Miss Delton back in the school house yet?"
"School starts the last Monday in January. I've heard she'll be back next Wednesday."
"And you said Linda McLean gossips." John laughed. "How did you find out so much in such a short time?"
Fiona grinned. "The Country Women's Institute had a meeting in the local hall yesterday and invited me along. I think everyone wanted to know about the Yanks who bought the Newson property. The fact you paid cash for the place made a few eyebrows rise."
"So we have the snobs here, too?"
"Most of them are pleasant and couldn't be friendlier," Fiona retorted. "
*
It was the following Thursday morning when John and the girls arrived at Long Valley Road School in the ancient Land Rover. Bella, the farm's bearded collie and already a family pet, sat at the rear barking.
John had originally intended calling at the adjacent schoolhouse but noticed the school windows and doors were open so drove up to the school instead. It consisted of two old classrooms that had been modernized with large windows added along the front, several small outbuildings, a tennis court, field and a swimming pool behind a tin fence in the corner. Neatly cut lawns and a flower garden completed the scene.
"You stay here girls," he said. "I'll see who's there and come back and get you."
"Sure, Dad," Julie replied. She grinned at Helen and reached back to pat the dog.
John walked through the open door that led directly into one classroom and gave a mental gasp. The room was covered in bright pictures, paintings, children's work and colourful charts that stretched up to the ceiling. As well, several mobiles of fish, obviously the children's work, hung suspended from the ceiling. Under the far windows was a sink unit with containers of paint and other art gear arranged in plastic trays and glass bottles.
John stepped further in but found the room empty. Twenty or more children's desks were arranged in three groups with smaller ones on the left and large ones at the back. Two computers sat along another wall behind a teacher's desk. In the far corner, a wood burner stood with a stainless steel chimney that reached up through the sloped ceiling.
The whole place smelt of cleanliness and furniture polish and gave John an immediate sense of security. "Hello!" he called in a quiet voice. "Is anyone here?"
An inside door opened and a young woman with an expectant look in her eyes appeared with a cloth in her hand. John smiled and studied the new arrival. She was of average height and weight, wore shorts and brief top and was bare footed. Her long blonde hair was tied back in a ponytail.
"I'm sorry," she gasped in her soft New Zealand accent. John noticed an apprehensive twitch of the chin. "I wasn't expecting anybody."
"Miss Delton?" John asked.
"Yes," she replied but didn't relax.
“I'm John Berg and have come to enrol my two daughters. I guess you can tell we're American but we have a residency permit and our girls are allowed to attend a local school."
"You want to send your children here?" the teacher replied almost as if she didn't believe what she was hearing.
"Sure, why not?" John answered.
The woman broke into a smile, stepped forward and held out her hand. "Call me Kylena," she said. Her handshake was firm and, when the apprehension disappeared, she looked a very attractive person. "I heard you had arrived in the district but thought Linda McLean would have called on you."
"Oh she did," John chuckled, "However, I'm a person who is prepared to make my own mind up about situations." He swung his hand out and glanced around the room. "So far, I am impressed. American schools would never have this amount of displayed work on their walls."
Kylena flushed and bit on her lower lip. "I do my best," she muttered and blue eyes caught John's for a second before dropping. "That's all one can do." She was about to add something but hesitated and walked over to her desk. "You have two daughters, is that right?"
"Yes, Julie's twelve and was in Grade 7 home. I heard that is Year 8. Helen's our after thought. She's six, that is Year 2 here, I believe."
"And you know there are no other older pupils on the roll?" The doubt crept in the woman's voice again. "Our oldest are two ten year old boys in Year 6." She shrugged. "There were four in the senior classes but they are going to Junction Road this year."
" I heard," John answered. "The girls and I talked it over and see no reason why we shouldn't come here. After all, why go ten miles when you're only a few yards up the road. We're your closest farm." He coughed. "I've got the girls' last school report papers here and the immigration documents," John added. " They're out in the Land Rover now."
"Then bring them in." Kylena's eyes warmed. "I'd like to meet them."
Julie and Helen appeared looking quite shy but responded well when Miss Delton chatted away, showed them the desks and other items around.
"Are you on the Internet, Miss Delton?" Helen asked as she lifted a computer mouse into her hand.
"We are," the teacher said. "Everyone has a turn and we get some of our work from Massey University in Palmerston North." She glanced at John. "We've joined a rural technology group and student teachers visit us to follow up programs that come in from their web site. So even though Julie will be the only Year 8 she will have contact with other pupils her age in twenty or more rural schools right throughout the country." She sounded enthusiastic. "A school in Victoria, Australia is even linked in with us."
"That's great!" Julie said.
"I'm sure you'll enjoy it." Kylena Delton replied. Her face, though, clouded over and the blue eyes looked again into John's. "That was one thing the locals objected about."
'Using modern methods?"
"A waste of money playing around on computers instead of getting stuck into reading and writing stories," Kylena mimicked. She frowned and stopped as if she had said too much. “I’m sorry," she continued. "I must remain neutral."
"And the customer is always right." John laughed.
"Exactly." The teacher and coughed in embarrassment. "Anyhow, thank you for coming along. School starts a nine o'clock on Tuesday. See you girls then... Oh yes, I almost forgot," She reached across, took two sheets from a drawer and handed one to each of the girls. John was impressed how she always drew the girls into their conversation. "Here's book list of this year's new exercise books. You can buy them in town or from the school. We have a discounted price but are not as cheap as in the big stores in Palmerston North, I'm afraid."
Julie read hers and grinned. "Can we buy them now, Dad," she asked and Helen echoed her request.
"We may need to come back later," John cautioned, “My money's at home."
"That's okay," Kylena replied. "Nobody has cash around here. I just have an account for each family."
*
Twenty minutes later the Berg girls tumbled into the Land Rover with an armful of exercise books, pens, pencils, folders and other paraphernalia. They wanted everything on their lists and John was too kind-hearted to point out they already had many of the items at home.
"I like Miss Delton, Daddy," Helen piped up. “Why are people like Mrs. McLean so mean to her?"
"They're just idiots," Julie retorted.
John chuckled. When one is twelve, everything is black or white. He swung the Land Rover around, almost drove down the wrong side of the road until Bella decided to bark and jogged his memory. He was also impressed by the young teacher they'd just spoken to and was sure he'd made the right decision to enrol the girls at Long Valley Road School.
*
In was noon on the penultimate Friday in January when John walked into the house. Reid and himself had spent the morning using an old three ton Bedford truck, another vehicle inherited with the farm, to transport hay bales to the hay shed to be unloaded and stacked. It was heavy, prickly work.
"Telephone for you, John," Fiona said and handed him the mobile receiver. "She sounds a real honey."
John screwed his nose up and spoke into the instrument. "John Berg speaking."
"Hello John," a distressed female voice came through from the other end of the line. "This is Kylena Delton speaking. I'm sorry to interrupt you, as I know you're in the middle of haymaking. I wouldn't but..." The voice broke into a tiny sniff.
"What's wrong, Kylena?" John asked. His face furrowed into a frown.
"A man from the Ministry Of Education is here and the locals are having a vote on whether to close the school or not. I wondered if you'd come to the meeting. I know you've just arrived but your children are officially on the roll and..."
"Of course I'll come," John answered. "When and where is it?'
"That's the trouble," the young woman replied. "The Board of Trustees and other locals went behind my back and arranged the meeting. It's on at the school right now. Frank Amberley, one of the few who has remained loyal, phoned a few hours ago to check that all was set up for the meeting. He was as annoyed as me when I told him I had heard nothing about it. I've been phoning my supporters."
"I'll be there," John replied, his voice determined.
"Oh thank you," the relieved voice replied. "It's called a householder's meeting and all residents, parents and caregivers can vote; not just the board." The voice broke again. "I shouldn't be asking you but I think they'll have the numbers for a simple majority. At this stage, that is all they need to close the school down. We went through all the preliminaries last year."
"Give me twenty minutes, "John snapped and clicked the off button.
His eyes looked annoyed as he stared at his mother-in-law and repeated the news.
"That's outright cowardly," Fiona responded. "I bet at this time of the year they hoped to catch all Kylena's supporters unaware."
"No doubt," John retorted. "Look, I'll have a shower and head out."
"I'm coming too," Fiona replied, "and why not ask Reid? He's a resident."
"I'll do that," John answered. "The girls are swimming. Wrap them in a towel and say they can continue their swim in the school pool."
Twenty-five minutes later the family arrived at Long Valley School to find a line of vehicles, including a large black limousine, parked outside. They dispatched the girls to the swimming pool where other children were swimming and entered the classroom.
A hush settled over the interior and all eyes turned as the three walked in and stood behind the small crowd seated in the tiny pupils' chairs.
The six foot American, dressed in khaki shorts, tartan shirt and work boots, took off his wide brimmed hat and glowered at the two men dressed in a dark suits behind Kylena's desk.
"Name's John Berg, from Top Oasis Farm and my daughters will be attending this school, " he said. His icy accent cut through the air like an arrow while his eyes travelled across the room. "This lady beside me is my mother-in- law, Mrs. Fiona Reynolds and I'm sure you know the manager of our property, Mr. Reid Platters." He held out a chair for Fiona to sit down and swung his tall frame into another one while Reid, with a slight grin on his face, also found a seat.
One man behind the desk blinked and turned to the school principal sitting beside him. She looked nervous and pale in her formal gray suit." Are the Berg children on the school roll, Miss Delton?" he asked.
"They are, Mr. Finlayson," she replied in a whisper.
"I see," the man replied and glanced out at John, “And your mother-in-law is an official caregiver, Mr. Berg?"
"Yes," John nodded. "Fiona is my late wife's mother who has accompanied me to New Zealand to help bring up my daughters.”
"They're Americans, foreigners!" snapped a male voice from the front row.
"We have a residency permit," John replied. "As a parent of pupils enrolled at this school, I believe I have full voting rights."
"And I am a resident living in the valley," Reid added in a quiet voice. "My voting rights are as valid as half the people in this room."
Mr. Finlayson took a thick green book from a satchel on the floor, glanced down the index and flicked back some pages. He read silently for a moment and glanced up. "You all have voting rights at this householder's meeting," he proclaimed. "I can read the exact sub-clause out if the floor desires."
"Forget it!" the same angry male voice snapped.
"We shall continue, then," the second man behind the desk began. "For the sake of the new arrivals, I shall reread the motion. As you know, it has already been seconded and is now ready for the vote. The motion, with all the amendments taken into account states, ‘The Board of Trustees of Long Valley School agrees that the aforesaid school shall be officially closed as from this date and amalgamated onto Junction Road School in time for the commencement of the official school year. If this motion is passed, a postal vote of local residents shall be held to elect two Board of Trustees members to represent the valley residents on the amalgamated school's Board of Trustees. Also, if this motion is passed, Miss Kylena Delton will be entitled to full redundancy rights of two term's salary and assistance to procure a new position of a comparable grade to the one she is now holding." The man looked directly at John. "The Junction Road School householders recently voted in favour of this amalgamation onto the Junction Road School site."
John nodded but remained grim.
"All those in favour a say aye."
A chorus of ayes filled the room.
"Against?"
An equally loud response filled the room.
"We shall have a show of hands," the chairperson announced.
Grim silenced filled the room as the raised hands were counted. There were fourteen for and sixteen against the motion.
"I declare the motion lost," the man declared.
The room immediately erupted into a burst of voices, cheers, grumbles and a splattering of applause. Everyone, it seemed wanted to state his or her opinion.
But not everyone!
Kylena sat with a small smile on her lips until her eyes found John's. "Thank you," she mouthed.
"Well, I'm resigning from the board." A man in the front row stood up and snorted. It was the same person who had called out earlier. "Who else is coming with me?"
A woman stood up. "I will, Kelvin."
"Anyone else?" Kelvin snapped.
The room was quiet until another farmer stood up. He was tanned and also dressed in shorts and working clothes as if he'd only arrived off the farm. "I'm staying on," he said quietly and sat down.
A woman with a nervous frown stood and announced she would also remain on the Board of Trustees.
"Have it your own way," Kelvin what-ever-his-name-was snapped in uncontrolled fury and stalked out of the room.
When the rumble of voices subsided, John stood up. "'Mr. Chairman, may I ask what happens now?” he asked.
Mr. Finlayson, who was obviously the Ministry representative, replied. "The school remains open, Mr. Berg but with a resignation last year and today's two resignations, we need three new representatives voted onto the Board of Trustees. If we cannot find that number the it will be dissolved and replaced by a commissioner appointed by the Ministry to govern the school."
"Thank you ... and Miss Delton's position?" John continued.
"It is secure," Finlayson announced.
"Let's vote for new BOT members now," someone called out. "Surely we can get three to stand so we can continue to function."
*
John, Fiona and Janet Amberley, wife of the board member who had earlier phoned Kylena, were elected.
"Well," Mr. Finlayson said at the conclusion. "Unless the Long Valley School roll drops below ten pupils, there is no reason why it cannot remain open in the foreseeable future."
The meeting broke up with the two distinct groups hiving off in different directions. John, Fiona and Reid walked out into the afternoon sunshine and walked over to the swimming pool.
Julie rushed up, all wet with water pouring off her body and hair. "What happened, Daddy?" she panted forgetting to call her father 'Dad'.
"The school remains open and Miss Delton will be your teacher." John smiled at his daughter. "Your Grandma and I are on the Board of Trustees."
Julie broke into a smile. "I'm glad she won and I'm going to tell her."
Not caring that she was wet and in a bikini she ran through the adults to find her new teacher.
"John," gasped Fiona. "She a mature girl, hardly dressed. What will everyone say?"
"Don't worry, Grandma," John laughed. "I'm sure nobody will care. It is, after all, a hot summer's day."
"If you say so, John," Fiona muttered but looked unconvinced.
*