The Cute and Terrifying Creatures (2)
As February rolled in, Christopher paid a visit to Redwood Winery for the first time in a while. He arrived wearing a black coat and black leather gloves, carrying a bottle of 2004 Opus One in his hand.
“I happened to come across this, and you were the first person who came to mind.”
“Thank you. My father has been really into wine lately; he’ll be thrilled.”
“Isn’t your father satisfied enough with just the Echelon?”
“Haha, that’s true, but one has to taste a variety of wines to truly appreciate them. Come on in.”
When I brought him into the office, Dad welcomed him with a bright smile.
“It’s been a while. You look like you’re doing well—your face looks great!”
How much difference could you really tell in the complexion of a white man’s face? It was just a polite greeting. Confused by the comment about his “face” looking good, Christopher paused for a second, then gave an awkward laugh, assuming it was meant as a compliment in this context.
“Is that so? Haha... More importantly, I came here to share some good news.”
“Why don’t you have some tea while we talk?”
Dad brought out some citron tea he’d picked up from a Korean market in LA a while back. Christopher blew on the hot tea, took a tentative sip, and his eyes widened at the sweet, refreshing flavor.
“Oh, this is delicious!”
“Right? It’s a must-have tea in Korea during the winter. It feels empty without it. We usually finish a whole jar like this by the time winter ends.”
“It seems Koreans possess many wonderful things we know nothing about.”
“Indeed. You probably wouldn’t know them all even after ten years.”
You’re right, Dad. By the time I regressed, these were the same people who were going crazy over just gimbap, tteokbokki, and galbi.
“So that’s why you can make wine with such meticulous care.”
“Well, that’s just us doing our job well.”
“Ah! Hahaha! I see!”
After letting out a hearty laugh, he sipped his tea again before getting to the point.
“Actually, half of the Sylphid stock distributed in the Eastern United States has already been sold out.”
“Ah, you mentioned when we discussed the distribution strategy that you would intentionally control the supply, right?”
“That’s correct. I controlled it even more than I explained back then, but the field is constantly clamoring for more, so things aren’t exactly going according to the original plan.”
“Oh... so you were trying to restrict it even further.”
It seemed he wanted to hoard as much Sylphid as possible to sell at a premium. From our perspective, we had already sold it to the distributor at wholesale prices, so as long as he didn’t ruin the brand image, it wasn’t our concern.
“Therefore, the value of the limited edition Sylphid we’ve put up for auction is expected to rise even higher. So...”
He glanced at me, testing the waters, and asked in a subtle tone.
“How is the Pinot Noir coming along from that other vineyard in the Russian River Valley?”
He was essentially asking me to hand over the distribution rights for that, too, since he was doing such a good job.
“Hmm... It’s coming along well, but... I’ll let you know once we see how things develop.”
Dad never made hasty decisions. Naturally, I felt the same way.
“Haha, I see. I’m just so looking forward to it. Oh, and there’s something else I should tell you... A decent vineyard has come onto the market in Napa. I remembered you kept buying up land, so I thought I’d let you know...”
“Is that so?”
“Yes. It’s not far north of Oakville, so the location is excellent, but it seems the owner got into gambling and lost a fortune. That’s why the vineyard is up for sale...”
I tilted my head. It was one thing for a wine distributor to know that a grape contract had ended, but it was surprising that he knew about real estate transactions like a vineyard being put on the market.
“You know about that kind of information, too? That’s fascinating.”
“Haha, I just got lucky.”
“Is it priced very cheaply?”
“Not exactly. Napa Valley has its reputation, and there’s a rumor that the owner already cleared his debts by selling off the winery’s reserve wines.”
Only then did I realize how he had come across this information.
“So you found out because the reserve wines were being sold off cheaply?”
“Exactly. A competitor of mine was rumored to have secured a large quantity of wine I had my eye on at a low price, and when I looked into it, I found out the whole story.”
He spoke with a bitter smile, and I could tell that the wine distribution business was incredibly competitive.
“I appreciate the tip, but for now... I think I’ll hold onto our capital until after this year’s harvest, just in case.”
“Ah, I see. It’s not a bad strategy to secure the funds you’ve gathered for the year. Good vineyards will always come up eventually.”
“Regardless, thank you for letting us know.”
After he left, Dad wore a slightly regretful expression.
“I wish I hadn’t heard about it; now that I know, I’m getting greedy. I guess that’s why they say ‘seeing is wanting.’ Old proverbs are never wrong.”
“Exactly. Let’s just release the wine we’ve prepared this year and see how things go. Better land might come up by then. Plus, we don’t even know the state of this year’s vintage yet...”
“That’s true.”
Since the quality of wine changes slightly every year, keeping capital in reserve was an important part of running a winery, even without the threat of a financial crisis.
“I’m heading out now.”
“Ah, you said you were going to the almond orchard today, right? Drive safely.”
“I will.”
I left the winery immediately, got into my car, and headed toward the almond orchard in Brentwood.
After an hour and a half of driving, I arrived at the orchard and headed to the spot where the beehives had been stacked a few days prior. I could already see bees buzzing around. Under normal circumstances, I would have flinched and checked where the bees were, but knowing they were Italian honeybees, I didn’t pay it much mind.
The type of honeybee primarily used for almond pollination in California is the Italian honeybee (Apis mellifera ligustica), and there was a reason why they were preferred over others.
First, they have excellent climate adaptability in California; even if their wintering ability is lower than Northern European strains, they start laying eggs earlier in the spring. This makes it an advantage to maintain a strong colony in time for the start of the bloom in early February.
And the most important point is their gentle temperament. To pollinate hundreds of acres of almond orchards, hundreds of hives must be managed, which makes contact with nearby farms and workers inevitable. Naturally, if the bees weren’t docile, there would be a high chance of major disputes, and Italian bees were known for their low aggression.
In the end, they were perfectly suited for almond farming.
“Still, it’s a bit nerve-wracking.”
I had obviously studied beekeeping, but I had never experienced it firsthand like I had with winemaking. I wasn’t afraid of other insects, but bees were a slight concern.
Arriving safely at the site while feeling a bit tense, I saw Brandon and Harold Cooper, whom I had met before, working on something.
“You’re here?”
Brandon, who was holding a smoker, raised his empty hand. Seeing him working hard with a veil over his head looked a little funny.
“Are you doing okay?”
“I’m dying here...”
His grumbling was the same as ever, but he didn’t seem to hate it that much.
I quickly put on the provided rubber gloves, changed into boots, and carefully put on the veil to keep the bees out. As I walked toward the two of them, Harold Cooper was in the middle of teaching Brandon.
His hands were calloused like thick leather, and his movements were relaxed. With his thick fingers, he slightly opened the hive cover.
“This is the harbinger of spring. Look, the fact that the bees are spreading their wings means they already know the flowers are here.”
Brandon asked cautiously, shaking the smoker.
“Do I... do I need to use a lot of this?”
“No, use the minimum amount of smoke. Bees react to the air first; if you puff it too hard, they’ll panic.”
Cooper said, controlling the smoke with practiced hands. But at that moment, I realized I had made a mistake.
Ah... this shouldn’t be happening...
I had assumed that by renting the hives, he would manage the bees and pass on some knowledge to Brandon, but I hadn’t considered that his knowledge was extremely outdated by 2025 standards.
I could have easily thought that far ahead, but since the almond orchard wasn’t mine, I had been sketching out the big picture and missed the details. Still, I couldn’t just leave it alone, so I spoke up carefully.
“Do you happen to have a thermometer and a hygrometer at the farm?”
Brandon looked up.
“We don’t have them here, but they should be at the cherry orchard?”
“Oh, really? I see. I’ll go over there for a moment.”
Harold Cooper, who had been listening, asked.
“Why do you need a thermometer and a hygrometer?”
“You can tell how much stress the bees are under just by the temperature inside the hive.”
Harold Cooper’s expression immediately twisted.
“What? Is there any basis for that?”
“Of course. Maintaining a temperature between 34–36°C is a healthy state, but if it stays below 33°C for about an hour, the worker bees’ warming activity decreases, and larval development begins to lag.”
Brandon, who was standing next to us, became curious and asked.
“What should we do in that case?”
“You need to add external insulation like foam or straw, and at dusk, you have to shrink the hive entrance to one-third of its size.”
I spoke exactly as I had read in the papers before I regressed. But naturally, since there was no beekeeping manual tailored to temperature at this time, Harold retorted.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. This is my first time hearing such nonsense.”
“Ah... it’s data from a research paper.”
At this point, Brandon, who didn’t care in the slightest about Harold’s annoyance, asked again.
“Then what if it’s lower than that?”
“If it stays below 32°C for more than three hours, the larval mortality rate will skyrocket, and the queen will stop laying eggs. In this case, you need to install a preheating pad or a heating mat for baby bottles in the center of the hive to prevent sudden death.”
“Huh, that’s ridiculous.”
Harold’s face grew more and more crumpled, but Brandon’s questions continued.
“What if the temperature goes up instead?”
“If the internal temperature of the hive rises above 37°C, the colony itself suffers from dehydration, and the protein in the brood (larvae) denatures. The queen stops laying eggs.”
“What do you do then?”
“You need to install a shading screen to create shade and vent the heat through the ventilation holes. Also, you should adjust the front of the hive to face north to keep the heat out as much as possible.”
“Ah... then you shouldn’t use smoke like this when the temperature is high?”
“Exactly. Instead of smoke, it’s better to stabilize the hive temperature with a fine water mist. Also, if you use smoke too often, the moisture evaporates and the eggs can dry out, which is why humidity is just as important as temperature. Humidity should always be maintained between 50–65%.”
Brandon nodded as if he understood. Meanwhile, Harold, the supposed hive expert, was being treated as if he didn’t exist.
Harold, who had become a living mannequin while standing still, couldn’t take it anymore and sneered.
“Spray water on bees? Look here, I’ve been doing this for 30 years. Bees organize their direction by the smell of smoke. Water ruins the bees’ wings.”
I understood why he was agitated, but I had no choice.
“That’s an old-fashioned way. Spraying water into the air has the effect of reducing heat and maintaining humidity. Also, if smoke increases the carbon dioxide concentration, the queen bee’s laying rate drops.”
Suddenly, the buzzing in the air grew louder. It was noticeable that the bees were moving restlessly.
Brandon, sensing the tension, slowly lowered the smoker. Angered even more by this, Harold shouted.
“Young man, beekeeping isn’t learned from books. Thermometers and hygrometers? Those are toys for laboratories; this is work done by the feel of a person’s fingertips!”
I sighed and shook my head.
“Since 2006, the honeybee population across California has been plummeting. Temperature changes and stress are presumed to be the causes, and more than half of that is due to excessive smoke treatment. Even now, the bees are delaying their egg-laying.”
“That’s just your opinion! The bees are decreasing? That’s because of the weather! It’s not something a human hand can stop!”
“That’s why we need to turn it into data. Feelings can be wrong, but numbers don’t lie.”
“Enough!”
Cooper threw down the smoker and shouted.
“I can’t stand being told what to do! Some ridiculous Asian brat... Hmph! See how well you do on your own!”
Before I could even try to stop him, Harold stripped off his protective suit and stomped away.
Brandon and I stared at each other blankly.
“Well, I just need someone who can teach me properly...”
Brandon muttered, casting his eyes downward.