The Taste of Self-Sufficiency (2)
After polishing off the leftover octopus, fish, and shrimp in one pot of Patrick-style steamed egg—neither Korean nor Japanese style—his stomach was pleasantly full. On any other day he might have patted his belly and lain down to while away the hours, but Patrick, now obsessed with self-sufficiency, finished the dishes in a hurry and headed straight for the garden.
“Today, no matter what, I’m planting those seedlings!”
There were quite a few varieties of seedlings and seeds. Once he started teaching the children, the parents had given him seeds and tubers, saying they had nothing else to offer. Halmae, one of the village’s eldest matriarchs, had also contributed a fair amount. The village chief had helped too, and Patrick had even bought some rare crops from a merchant that were hard to find on the island. At this point, the fact that he hadn’t planted anything yet felt stranger than anything else.
“What did he say I should plant this month again?”
Just because he had seeds didn’t mean he could plant them however he liked. The chief had given him advice, but Patrick decided to dig out the memo he’d carelessly tossed in the shed and figure out what to start with.
Potatoes… I guess that’s priority number one.
Since he wasn’t growing wheat, potatoes would have to serve as a staple if things got rough. He couldn’t afford to neglect the potato crop. At the very least, half the field needed to be filled with root vegetables like potatoes and sweet potatoes if he wanted to survive the winter.
“Besides that… peas, lettuce, chicory, cabbage, spinach, carrots, pumpkin… What the—why is there so much?”
The thrill of the three eggs was already threatening to shatter before he’d even begun. Complaining wouldn’t change anything, though. If he wanted to sow in spring, he had no choice but to plant. Only now did Patrick realize just how much work it would be to grow his own food, and his face twisted in dismay.
“Maybe I should just give up on the garden and follow the fishermen around instead…”
The fishermen would have laughed in his face if they’d heard that. By now the villagers had already formed a clear image of Patrick: the frail wizard teacher. Limbs with no trace of muscle, common sense so lacking he couldn’t even tell clams from vegetables, yet oddly grateful whenever someone taught him something without putting on airs. A slightly strange wizard.
—Do all wizards thank people like that?
—Doubt it. Back when I was a soldier at the lord’s castle in my youth, I met a few. Every last one of them had their noses stuck so high in the air you’d think they were born that way.
—Really? Then why’s our teacher…
—Probably because he’s been exiled. He’s stuck living on this island for the rest of his life, after all.
—You think so?
The adults were briefly thrown off by a wizard who didn’t match the rumors. The children, however, paid no attention to any of that. They trailed after Patrick like a little uncle or big brother, pestering him under the guise of curiosity.
“Teacher!”
“We’re here!”
Right on cue, a swarm of kids came rushing over the moment the sun rose.
“What’s that?”
The children often arrived with something in their hands.
“These are peanuts! They said now’s the time to plant them.”
“Yeah? Tell them thanks for me.”
“Okay!”
It was their way of showing gratitude to the teacher who looked after them. The gifts weren’t expensive or plentiful, so Patrick accepted them gladly. Small, burden-free presents like that were the grease that kept relationships running smoothly.
“Ben, go sit on that rock and practice sensing mana. The rest of you, get to your word cards.”
“What about you, Teacher?”
“I have to plant seedlings today.”
“Can you do it all by yourself?”
The kids were openly worried now.
“I’m not doing everything. Just a few.”
“We’ll finish quick and help you!”
“Let’s finish fast and go play by the sea today!”
“No, we have to dig for bamboo shoots today!”
“We need to gather spring greens too. Mom asked why Teacher hasn’t stocked up on any!”
“Stock up on greens?”
At Patrick’s question, Ben nodded vigorously.
“I dry some herbs and greens and save them for winter. I put them in soup or make pickles so we can eat them all year.”
“Every household keeps herbs on hand for emergencies too.”
His original plan had been to plant just potatoes, pumpkin, and lettuce, but the list of tasks kept growing.
“Bamboo shoots too?”
“You have to pick them diligently from now on. There’s bamboo behind your house, so there should be plenty.”
“……Just do what I told you. I’ll handle as much as I can.”
“Okay!”
The children split into two groups. Patrick let out a sigh that seemed to sink into the ground, then trudged toward the shed.
“Living leisurely with nature? What a joke.”
He wanted to punch his past self—the one who had dreamed of becoming a laid-back naturalist while slaving away at a busy company job. This was nothing but an endless chain of labor.
Still, planting seedlings has to be easier than pulling weeds.
With the chief’s help, Patrick had already prepared seed potato pieces. He carried them out of the shed, mulling over the next step.
Single row or double row?
He had to decide whether to bury the seed potatoes in one row or two per ridge.
—If you plant them in single rows, the tubers grow bigger, but the yield is lower. Double rows give smaller tubers but more of them.
—Which is better?
—If you’re selling, bigger is better. If you’re eating them yourself, more yield is better, right?
Though he’d only just begun his life as a self-sufficient farmer, Patrick already felt the weight of money’s importance all too keenly.
Yesterday I wasted the whole day making a chicken coop because I couldn’t even get wire.
He couldn’t even imagine the 21st-century Korea where a few clicks brought anything to your doorstep by morning delivery. In this tiny island village without a single proper shop, basic supplies were painfully scarce. The residents seemed content enough, but for someone like Patrick—who had always solved time shortages with credit cards and lived as a maximalist—this lifestyle was brutally difficult.
“Still, I don’t want to spend the whole winter worrying about how many potatoes I have left.”
Without a reliable source of income, the only thing keeping him from despair was the small comfort of knowing there would be food tomorrow.
“Teacher.”
“I told you to focus. Why are you talking?”
“Halmae said even a high-ranking wizard will start begging after three days without food.”
“……I’ll do double rows.”
“I thought so.”
Apparently his muttering had been louder than he thought.
Why does it feel like Ben’s the one teaching me?
Patrick, never one for childish sulking, felt oddly annoyed anyway. Thwack!
“Ow!”
“Hey. When I was training, my master could slap my cheek and I wouldn’t make a sound because I was so focused!”
“That’s abuse! Why are you getting hit when you didn’t do anything wrong?!”
“……”
Right. Why had he been getting hit? Old Patrick, what were you thinking?
“It’s just a saying, alright? Focus! Sit in lotus position and feel the mana until I finish planting all these seed potatoes.”
“I still don’t even know what ‘feeling mana’ means……”
For the first time, Ben’s shoulders slumped. He puffed out his cheeks with all his might, but he still wasn’t cute as a boy.
“Feel the wind. Feel the sunlight. Is that so hard? Come on, concentrate!”
“Fiiine—”
Patrick gave Ben a quick gesture to show he was watching, then crouched down in the field and began planting the seed potatoes. All his tools had been borrowed from the village workshop. None were new, but none were rusty either. There were so many tools and implements that the workshop had become his favorite place—like a sparrow visiting a mill.
Still no hoe, though. Figures.
A hoe would have been perfect for digging. Left with no choice, he picked up a small trowel.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
He loosened the soil with the trowel, dropped in a sprouting piece of seed potato, then dug another hole and dropped in another piece…… Double rows were definitely slower going.
Cock-a-doodle-doo— Cock-a-doodle!
The rooster, oblivious to time, wandered over and began leisurely pecking at worms.
“Go play somewhere else, you.”
With that thought—that no creature had it easier than this rooster—Patrick slipped into a state of empty-minded focus. He set aside the harsh sunlight and the worry of what to eat for lunch, losing himself in the repetitive work.
“Huh?”
While planting potatoes in a daze, his hand suddenly found nothing left in the basket.
“Wow. So there is something you’re good at, Teacher.”
Ben walked over, turned the basket upside down, and shrugged. He added that he hadn’t expected it to go so quickly.
“I told you, I’m good at stuff when I actually do it.”
“Didn’t you say that recently too?”
“Did I? Still, I did pretty well this time, right?”
“Yeah. Not bad. So are you planting the lettuce next?”
“Yep. Since I’m sowing the seeds directly, this won’t take long.”
It would have been better to raise lettuce seedlings first, but there was no time. Just adapting to life on this island already made the days blur by—where would he find time to watch seeds sprout?
“I need to sow the lettuce seeds and finish the peas and pumpkin before lunch.”
“You really shouldn’t push yourself……”
“This is all real-world compressed muscle training. I’m gonna make sure those little brats never look down on this teacher again.”
Exactly one hour later.
Thud!
“Teacher!”
“Teacher collapsed!”
“Get water, quick! Water!”
After crouching under the sun without drinking properly, Patrick had stood up only to feel his head spin before crumpling to the ground.
“I told you not to overdo it……”
It seemed Patrick’s image makeover would have to wait a while longer.