Cherry Wine (1)
After graduation, other students might sleep in and take it easy, but not me. For those who farm, the idea of lounging around once the sun is up is simply out of the question.
Even so, I allowed myself a bit of leisure today, as I had to head out toward a place that required a relaxed start in the morning.
"Goodness... the horizon is so blue."
All I could see were vast, sprawling rice paddies and orchards—I had entered the famous Sacramento Valley.
The Sacramento region, where Jacob’s farm is located, is a major agricultural hub representing the United States. Its scale is immense; it is larger than the combined area of North Gyeongsang and South Jeolla provinces in Korea.
The representative crop of this region is rice. They mainly harvest California short-grain rice (primarily Calrose), which has a chewy, sticky texture that suits the Korean palate quite well, making it the go-to choice for Korean immigrants and Korean restaurants. My own household is no different; if not for that rice, we might have had to import it from Korea.
However, just because this major granary produces short-grain rice, one shouldn't assume it’s the dominant variety in the U.S. In reality, fluffy long-grain (Indica) varieties make up about 75%, while short-grain accounts for only about 25%.
After about two hours of driving, I finally arrived at my destination. As soon as I stopped the car, the distinct scent of damp rice straw pricked at my nostrils.
Then, I saw the large frame of Jacob running toward me with his arms wide open, as if we were long-lost family.
"Brian!"
"You're going to deafen me."
"This is my home, Riverbend Rice Farm."
"It's impressive. I didn't realize your family was this wealthy."
"Haha, I’m not sure about that. But regardless, it’s a place I’m proud of."
He spread his arms toward the endless paddies with pride, and I felt he had every right to be. Anyone would be proud if those fields belonged to them.
"So, what’s the problem?"
"Ah, about that..."
Just as Jacob was struggling to find the words, a woman with blonde hair tied in a low ponytail walked out from the house.
"Mom! This is Brian!"
The woman, who looked nothing like Jacob, approached us hurriedly and spoke.
"So you’re Brian. You can call me Mrs. Maggie. Our boy has praised you so much, I’ve been dying to meet you."
"Jacob has?"
"Indeed. He said you’re a genius at farming and that the hints you gave him along the way were a huge help to us."
"Haha... well... I just shared methods that everyone uses."
In truth, I had never shared the specialized knowledge from my past life with Jacob, such as the Biochar Compost I used on our farm or the nitrogen-fixing techniques. I had only provided information that was common enough to be in any textbook.
"It was still a massive help. We had no idea about those things."
"I see..."
I understood completely. Whether in Korea or the U.S., older generations tend to be set in their ways, prioritizing their own experience over scientific theory or new technology.
"Anyway, thank you for coming all this way to help. And Jacob told me that getting into UC Davis with you was all thanks to you, too."
"Not at all. It’s because Jacob worked hard. He also put in a lot of effort helping out at Chloe’s farm."
As Chloe had mentioned, Jacob was recognized for his high scores in various volunteer activities and was accepted to UC Davis alongside me, Armando, and Chloe. While I can't speak for others, I suspect that beyond his volunteer work, his background in managing such a large farm played a role in his acceptance.
"Would you like to have some lunch first? I wasn't sure what an Asian student would like, so I prepared mostly meat dishes."
"No, thank you. I’d like to take a look at the situation first."
"If that’s what you prefer, then... Mr. Alberto is over there, so it would be better to go with him."
I saw a man who looked like a mere dot in the distance, standing on the ridge of the paddy.
"Is he the farm manager?"
"That’s right."
"And what about Jacob’s father?"
For a split second, her pupils wavered, and she looked at Jacob in distress. Then, Jacob spoke up nonchalantly.
"Dad hasn't been feeling well."
"Oh... I see. Sorry... understood. Do you happen to have any boots? Could you grab me a pair?"
"Oh, just a second."
As I moved on without making a fuss, Jacob smiled again, fetched the boots, and followed me out. Once Mrs. Maggie went back inside, Jacob rubbed the bridge of his nose and said,
"Dad’s health has been failing since last year. So now, I have to lead the farm."
"So that’s why you’ve matured."
"...Yeah. I lived like an idiot. The reason I said those mean things to you back then was because I hadn't changed from the way I lived like a fool."
Jacob nodded readily, seemingly reflecting on his past self with genuine sincerity.
"If you reflect and change, that’s enough. As long as you didn't commit a grave sin..."
At that moment, the farm manager, Alberto, noticed us approaching and walked over.
"Jacob, you’re here. Is this the Brian fellow?"
"Yes, that’s him. Nice to meet you."
I shook hands with the manager, Alberto, and examined him closely. His sun-tanned, wrinkled skin and the rugged aura he exuded made it clear he was a man who had spent his life farming.
"I truly hope your friend can be of help."
"He will definitely find the answer."
Alberto looked skeptical, while Jacob was full of confidence. Being the subject of their conversation was quite embarrassing.
"Where is it?"
"Right here."
He pointed to the paddy right in front of us.
"Hmm..."
Following his gaze, I examined the paddy closely. The green reflection on the water’s surface was uneven. One row had a healthy luster, while the adjacent row had a subtle brown tint creeping in from the tips of the leaves. Further out, the leaves were twisted, and the new shoots were curled up like inverted fingernails.
"Did you apply any chemicals recently?"
Alberto flinched, his voice softening slightly.
"A week ago?"
"What was the reason?"
"Weeds were spreading... so... I sprayed a chemical recommended by the shop. It’s been like this ever since."
I nodded and asked immediately,
"Do you have any records? Like the date, product name, or dilution ratio?"
"I don't really have anything like that."
"But you have some of the leftover chemical, right?"
"That... I do."
"I’d like to see it."
"Alright. Wait here."
As he ran toward the shed, I put on the boots and stepped into the paddy. I placed a leaf on my palm, turned my back to the sun, and examined it from different angles. The tips of the leaves showed signs of browning, the middle sections were faded yellow, and the new leaves were twisted and failed to unfurl properly. Furthermore, the leaf veins, which should have been straight, were noticeably bent in a zigzag pattern.
"It’s the chemical."
Jacob, who had anticipated this since I asked for the leftover supply, asked anxiously,
"Is... is it ruined?"
"Ruined? Who says it’s ruined?"
I flicked the leaf off my hand and gave a bitter smile.
"Instead of ruined... let’s say it’s being scolded? Just about that much."
"I’m being scolded by the rice? Why? Should I have gone completely organic like Chloe’s farm?"
"Chloe’s farm wasn't strictly organic. They only used organic methods when dealing with aphids... and being organic doesn't automatically mean it’s better. You have to use chemicals when necessary. The problem is when you don't use them correctly, you get scolded like this."
"Ah..."
Just then, I saw Mr. Alberto running back from the distance, carrying several containers.
"Don't run! Let’s go. I’ve seen enough; there’s no need to stay here any longer."
"Oh? Right."
I walked toward Mr. Alberto and met him halfway.
"This is all that’s left."
I nodded after looking at the chemical container he handed me.
"It’s 2,4-D, isn't it? It seems you bought the right thing for weeding, but let’s go inside and take a look."
Perhaps because I had identified the chemical’s use at a glance, Alberto followed me without a word.
Once inside the shed, I inspected the containers he brought. I opened the bottle of diluted pesticide, not the raw 2,4-D, and stirred it with a wooden stick. I tilted my head and asked,
"What was the dilution ratio for this?"
"That? Uh... about 1 pint to 12 or 13 gallons?"
"Hmm... so that’s why."
As I straightened my back, Jacob asked,
"Is the dilution ratio wrong?"
"Yes. It’s too concentrated. You should have added 20–30% more water... and it was quite hot on the day you sprayed, wasn't it?"
"H-how did you know that?"
To the stunned Alberto, I said while looking at the weather outside,
"When you spray during high-temperature periods, the stomata (tiny pores on the surface of plant leaves and young stems) open up, causing the plant to absorb an excessive amount of the chemical. You used a highly concentrated 2,4-D solution on a hot day, so the plants just collapsed."
"Then what do we do? Is there a way?"
"Of course there is. I told you, it’s not ruined."
"Really? Haa... thank God."
Jacob, who had been deeply worried, finally regained his smile. Alberto asked urgently,
"Then what should we do now?"
"First, drain all the water. Filling it with clean water is the priority."
"R-right. I understand."
Mr. Alberto dashed out of the shed. It seemed he felt even more urgent since he realized he was the one who had over-sprayed. I immediately told Jacob,
"Write this down."
"Oh, hold on!"
As Jacob pulled out his notebook and pen, I continued,
"Once the fresh, clean water comes in, adjust the pH to 6–6.5. The acidity of the paddy water is directly linked to the rice’s ability to absorb nutrients."
"Got it."
"In this case, the problem arose because the chemical was used at a high concentration during high temperatures, leading to over-absorption. So, during the recovery phase, it’s important to keep it neutral. If it’s too acidic, use lime or silicate fertilizer; if it’s too alkaline, use sulfur or organic matter."
"Okay."
"Once the pH is balanced, use silicate fertilizer to strengthen the rice’s cell walls and help it recover from the damage quickly. If the pH is 7 or higher, reduce the silicate fertilizer and use a foliar nutrient spray instead. It will recover."
"That’s it?"
"Yes, that’s it."
Jacob, having organized everything in his notebook, suddenly hugged me tight.
"Whoa?"
"Thank you! Seriously, thank you!"
"...... I get it, can you let go now?"
"Haha... I’m just really grateful."
"I said I get it."
At that moment, Chloe suddenly called. When I picked up, her clear voice rang out, loud enough to burst my eardrums.
"Kyaaaah!"
"What! What is it?"
"I won! I won! I’ve secured the rightful rights to the cherry farm!"
She was shrieking like a madwoman, unable to contain her joy. I had never heard Chloe sound this happy before.
"...... Congratulations."
"I’m so happy. I didn't know it would feel this good to know I can keep raising those trees..."
Chloe even started to tear up.
"Calm down, just calm down..."
Sensing the annoyance in my tone, Chloe turned serious.
"Hmph! I guess I’m the only one happy about this?"
"It’s not like I’m the one getting the farm. Anyway, congrats."
"Fine. My dad invited you. He wants to acknowledge that your farming methods were a huge help and express his gratitude."
"...Is that necessary?"
"You have to come get your cherries!"
"Ah, okay."
And so, I was invited to Chloe’s cherry farm once again. It was time to reuse the tanks that had been emptied of vinegar and cleaned out.