Hey there, and welcome back to Animal Farm: The Novelization. This is the start of a few OC chapters that'll be almost exclusively in Sam's POV, though I'll also introduce a few other POVs. Also, I decided to include some of the songs from the 1999 movie like "Beasts of the World" and the song from that grateful duck.
Uploading Date: October 27, 2021
Enjoy!
Chapter 12: The First Stand
A month had passed since Boxer's death and since the pigs had gotten alcohol for this. The animals had not forgotten Boxer, but their need to finish the windmill was more important. Soon, they forgot about the sadness and were busy slaving away as they usually did on the windmill.
Sam never forgot. He had made it a point to no longer read aloud the poem "Comrade Napoleon" on the barn wall. He did his work, but he would always glare at the pigs behind their backs; he had to do so out of sight of Napoleon's Animal Guard dogs, lest they growl at him. Just in time too, there was another song to be sung, just as much as "Comrade Napoleon", composed by Minimus the poet and sung by a chorus of grateful ducks. It was titled a similar title called "Beloved Leader Napoleon", and it too glorified the Berkshire boar:
"Beloved leader Napoleon,
fearless faithful guardian!
Proud and strong,
protect us from the wrong,
you will defend us
with your lofty trotter.
"Our pigs, our pigs, our pigs:
There is no beast that's braver!
They will not ever waver!
They face the fight,
for right with might.
"Glorious, great and triumphant,
gallant hero resilient!
Proud and strong,
protect us from the wrong,
you will defend us
with your lofty trotter.
"Our pigs, our pigs, our pigs."
For an entire month, it was the same thing for Sam. It was to wake up, receive orders from Napoleon, work all day in the fields or the windmill, and rest. There was some food now and then, but not enough to make an animal satisfied. It almost felt like there was no escaping from a life like this.
Then one day, it came to a boiling point. Sam had been thirty minutes late in getting up in the morning, near to when the pigs would wake up. He had no idea what time it was during the day, so some of the animals decided to try and wake him up.
"Wake up!" cried a hen, pecking at his nose. "It's time for work!"
Sam groaned and rolled over onto his side. "Just ten more minutes..." he muttered.
Now it was Elijah who woke him, nipping him on the tail. "Sam, the pigs were serious about us waking up early," he said. "We need to get moving."
"All right, all right," Sam growled, and he licked at where his tail was nipped. "We don't want to upset the pigs, right?"
One of the younger goats bleated nervously. "No, we certainly don't. If they're upset, then Jones will come back!"
"Four legs good, two legs bad!" chanted the sheep. "Four legs good, two legs bad!"
Sam couldn't help but scoff at the sheep, not for the first time. Most of these animals had completely fallen for the lies that Napoleon and Squealer had told them. At least there were a few animals on the farm he could count on: Jessie, Benjamin, Clover, and Muriel. But he said nothing more as he got to his paws and followed the other animals out of the barn and towards the windmill.
Now the windmill had to be built without the strength of Boxer. Even though Clover was one of the largest animals on this farm, the power and determination she had did not match that of the deceased Clydesdale. Yet she carried on with her work, never shirking and never questioning the pigs. Benjamin, Muriel, and Elijah helped her out as much as they could with hauling the stones from the quarry up the hill. The windmill itself was starting to nearly look finished as it had before Frederick and his men blew it up, with the walls built twice as thick and the stones piled up higher than last time.
"Comrades!" Squealer announced. "We are almost finished with rebuilding the windmill, thanks to the leadership of our leader, Comrade Napoleon. Three times we have built a windmill, and no enemies - Snowball or man - could stop. Once we have finished, Napoleon Mill will stand once again!"
Most of the animals cheered. To them, it was definitely true. Attacks from Frederick and Snowball hadn't kept them from neglecting their duty, and neither could bad luck.
"We have decided to choose two animals to lead the others to the windmill, on its final days of rebuilding," Squealer went on. "Those two animals are Clover and Sam. Comrades Clover and Sam, will you do the honors in leading the way to the windmill? Our leader, Comrade Napoleon would be happy if you did."
Immediately, Clover started walking towards the windmill. But Sam stayed where he was, unsure at first about how to answer.
Then he knew what to do and find the right word to say. And he uttered it:
"No."
Squealer's fat face slowly turned from a smirk to surprise. "Oh...I guess you must be feeling ill. Well, no matter. We'll have another animal - "
"I'm fine," said Sam, aiming a dark look at Squealer. "Not that you'd know or care, since you worked Boxer to death."
"Excuse me?" Squealer now demanded, his face now contorting to fury. "What did you just say?"
"You pigs never help us with making the windmill," Sam snapped. "We always have to work on the windmill with not much food or rest; you get all the food and rest that we all should get. Boxer would still be alive if you hadn't forced him to keep working." He turned away until he no longer faced the windmill and sat down. "You or someone else can help with the windmill. I don't want to do it anymore."
Squealer lumbered over to him with a glower of fury, turning so he was facing the little dog. Sam wanted to look away, for he wasn't one to directly look people in the eye.
"I hope you understand, comrade," Squealer hissed, "that that kind of attitude spits in the face of Animalism. All animals must work and toil to one day overthrow the human race, casting aside all selfishness. Do you know what will happen if you don't work on the windmill? Jones will come back! Surely, Comrade Sam, you do not want Jones to come back?"
The animals began to shudder at the thought of Jones, but this only made Sam angrier. Day in and day out, he had to hear Squealer frighten the animals into obeying Napoleon by threatening the return of Jones. "Better that than having you pigs ruin more lives!" he finally snapped.
Horrified gasps came from the animals that were working. Many were now looking at him as if he were a piece of maggoty old cheese left to rot in the sun. Only Jessie, Clover, and Muriel looked both surprised and even sympathetic. Benjamin, however, stayed his usual gloomy self, perhaps even more gloomy after Boxer's death.
"Back to work, comrades!" Squealer commanded, and the animals rushed off towards the windmill. To Sam, he snapped, "As for you, we will discuss this later. Go run off with your tail between your legs for all I care!"
He stormed after the others to the windmill, leaving Sam alone. With just one quick look at the windmill and the animals working on it, he stood back up and started walking away.
...
Later in the day, Sam had come back from the western edge of the farm. He had taken to straying near the woods around there lately, and this time was no different. He would often come here on whatever free time the animals had left and spend time alone, relishing the solitude. But it was here on this day that he thought over the whole situation of Animal Farm.
There was no denying it: things were getting worse. Napoleon and his fellow pigs had kept securing their control on Animal Farm and the animals who lived here. They even killed animals along the way to keep their power. Someone had to do something: either fight back or at least leave, find a better life out there than slaving away at Animal Farm. He hoped that it wasn't too late.
A pigeon came flying over to sit on the fence. "Sam!" she called, turning the little dog's attention to her. "Comrade Squealer wants to talk to you."
"Did he say what for?" asked Sam.
"He said it's about what happened earlier," said the pigeon, and Sam could only grimace in anticipation. "He wants to meet you in the barnyard. Are you feeling all right?"
Sam nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm all right. I guess I needed to get all these feelings off my chest. Tell Squealer that I'll meet him in the barnyard."
The pigeon cooed and took off towards the farm buildings. Sam guessed that Squealer wasn't about to let what happened earlier today slide. He decided that it was time to return to the farm and talk with the head porker.
It was sunset when Sam returned to the farm, ready to talk with Squealer. He had just set foot into the farmyard when two of Napoleon's dogs pounced upon him, pinning him to the ground by the shoulders. Squealer was approaching him with a cold look in his eye.
"Comrade Sam, you are under arrest," he said in a curt voice.
"Under arrest?" choked Sam as the dogs lifted his head off the ground. "What for?"
"For refusing to work on the windmill and for preferring Jones to come back. You must be taught a lesson," said Squealer. "But I think our leader, Comrade Napoleon, might have an idea on what to do with you." He turned to the dogs and gave them a sharp squeal. "Make him get up, Octavian."
That was what the dogs did. The tricolored son of Jessie - the dog that had mauled him near the farmhouse years ago - stalked forward and fiercely nipped Sam's tail. Sam yipped and jumped up to his feet, but he didn't try an attack.
As he walked, he noticed that the animals had come back from working on building the windmill or tending the fields. Most of the animals were shouting angry words at him, clearly not forgetting what had happened earlier that day.
"How could you do this, Sam?"
"Shame on you!"
"No animal should reject any work!"
"Napoleon is always right!"
"Four legs good, two legs bad! Four legs good, two legs bad!"
But Sam ignored it all and kept walking. He looked up to see Jessie, Benjamin, Clover, and Muriel looking over at him. They were the only animals who looked like they believed him, yet they did not come forward to his defense.
They made it to the farmhouse, where one of the dogs gave Sam a sharp nip to keep him walking. He stepped over the threshold and into the humid farmhouse. It had been years since the animals had been in here, observing all the things inside that they had gotten from driving out Jones.
Most of the items that Jones had owned were still around. That included the mirrors, the Brussel carpet, and some clothing that had belonged to Jones and his wife scattered across the floor. Some of the pigs were sitting around the television, watching a show with interest. Sam perked his ears curiously. The television that the animals would watch for giving the milk and apples to the pigs had disappeared shortly before the windmill was built the first time; he had wondered what happened to it.
"Get moving. There's nothing good on the TV anyway," barked Octavian. "We're almost there now."
They went down the hall until they reached the kitchen, pushing the door open. In the kitchen sat Napoleon himself. The Berkshire pig was wearing a bowler hat and slurping something out of the Crown Derby dinner set. It had a mixed smell of alcohol and jam, and he gobbled it down like how a normal pig ate from a trough.
"Comrade Napoleon, this is the troublemaker," said Squealer, approaching his leader and bowing. "He's the one who said that Jones should come back and destroy us all."
Napoleon glanced up from his meal, the food dripping from his snout. "Bring him over here," he commanded as he licked his lips. "I'll ask him the questions, make him confess."
"Shall we leave the kitchen, beloved leader?" asked one of the other pigs.
But Napoleon waved a trotter and said, "No. Stay here. Let's all hear what Comrade Sam has to say for himself."
The pigs settled back down, though they didn't keep their eyes off Sam. He was painfully aware that everyone had surrounded him in a circle, leaving no room to flee if he wanted to.
"Comrade Sam," Napoleon began in a low and deadly whisper. "Did you disobey a command given by Squealer?"
"Yes," admitted Sam.
"Did you refuse to help build the windmill?"
"Yes," Sam repeated.
"Did you mean what you told Comrade Squealer while you were disobeying him?" Napoleon demanded with that same low deadly whisper. "Do you want Jones to return to the farm?"
"No," admitted Sam. "No, I don't want Jones to come back. He wasn't a good master or a good farmer." He dared to look up into the Berkshire boar's glaring eyes, something he never dared do with anyone, not even friends. "But I was telling Squealer that, hypothetically, having him back would be better than you pigs running our lives for us. At least Jones remembered to give us food and breaks."
Napoleon snorted. "This is what I meant by saying that you'd be left to making decisions on your own. That's why I intended to make your decisions for you, so you wouldn't have to think for yourself. Instead of focusing on the progress of Animal Farm, you have embraced the selfish life of human tyranny that Snowball has poisoned you with. That kind of thinking would doom us all." He turned to his fellow swine and commanded, "Pigs, I want you to go out and tell everyone that Snowball has poisoned Sam against us - "
"SHUT UP about Snowball," Sam barked, to which many pigs gasped. He was getting sick and tired of hearing "Snowball did this" and "Snowball did that" every day from Napoleon and Squealer. "He's gone from this farm. Can't you just let him go for once?"
Squealer banged his trotter on the table. "Our leader, Comrade Napoleon is not to be talked to like that," he scolded. "Shut up and show him some respect!"
"No. I won't shut up anymore," Sam snapped back. He turned to address Napoleon some more, fury radiating from his fur. "Ever since you took control, things have been going bad and even worse. You've been making things worse. The animals aren't fed right. We're slaving away at the windmill while you only help yourself to all the food. You've killed animals whom you believe work for Snowball, and you sent Boxer to die just for alcohol. You're everything that you believe all humanity is: drunk, evil, and greedy. Heck, you've become even worse than Jones!"
Silence followed, aside from horrified gasps from the pigs. The guard dogs growled low while Sam had insulted their master, and he knew that they wouldn't let it slide, but he stood firm.
Napoleon rose from his seat, storming over towards Sam with a scowl on his face. Sam saw this look and scrambled backward to get out of the farmhouse. But he was walled in on all sides by pigs and dogs, both species refusing to let him leave. Just in time, Napoleon had reached him and grabbed him by the scruff of his neck with his teeth, hauling him out of the kitchen and down the hall until they reached the living room window. The other animals were already gathering outside the farmhouse, wondering what was happening inside.
"Comrades, look upon this rebel," cried Napoleon, forcing Sam's head down onto the windowsill. "This will be the last time he makes a mockery of Animal Farm's name and work ethic. Rest assured, he will be punished for putting himself before his comrades. However, he will not be put to death."
Many voices gave loud disapproving cries, but a growl from Napoleon's dogs silenced them to let Napoleon finish.
"He will not be put to death," repeated Napoleon. "Instead, he shall be locked in the shed for a week. He will stay there until he forsakes his selfish ways and returns to a life of hard work for Animal Farm."
"Can I ask a question before you lock me up?" Sam grunted, his head still forced to the windowsill.
Napoleon grunted as if he wanted to deny him that chance. Instead, however, he growled, "Just one. I am a merciful pig."
"Why don't you just kill me instead of locking me up?" asked Sam. "That would solve your problem."
"Because you're one of the capable animals on this farm. After all, dogs are said to be some of the most loyal animals," said Napoleon, dragging Sam back into the farmhouse. "So making an example out of you is the way to remember your loyalty to me. Who knows? Perhaps you may feel like joining the Animal Guard."
That made Sam glare up at Napoleon. "You can lock me up if you want," he said. "But I'm not going to join your Animal Guard."
Napoleon leaned towards Sam with a leer, his breath foul. "Let's see what several days of no food, no water, and darkness can change," he retorted. "Even if you won't join the Animal Guard, perhaps your time in the shed will change your ways. We want complete obedience. Animal Guard!" he squealed, making said dogs stand at attention. "Take Sam to the shed where Snowball used to have his plans. There, his punishment will begin."
"Long live Comrade Napoleon!" Squealer added, raising a trotter as a salute. "Long live Animal Farm!"
So Napoleon gave the order, and the guard dogs pounced on Sam, wrestling him to the ground. When he couldn't fight anymore, they picked him up and hauled him out of the room and out of the farmhouse. The chants of "Long live Comrade Napoleon" and "Long live Animal Farm!" still rang loudly in his ears, and he wished that he couldn't hear them anymore.
To be continued...
