Acquiring the Vineyard (2)
My father and I arrived at the Napa County USDA Agricultural Service Center, located on the outskirts of Napa Valley, California. It was a bright, sun-drenched afternoon, and the sign reading United States Department of Agriculture shimmered above the entrance of the small brick building. Stepping inside, we were greeted by a blast of cool air conditioning and a clean, orderly atmosphere.
“Welcome. How can I help you today?”
A staff member with a bright, polite voice greeted us. She appeared to be in her forties, dressed in a neat gray suit with perfectly groomed blonde hair. She smiled and led us to a consultation table.
My father glanced at me, looking nervous, before carefully opening the conversation.
“We’re thinking of acquiring a vineyard. We actually haven’t been immigrants for very long, so I came to ask what kind of support we might be eligible for from the state or the federal government.”
He had come to verify if his son’s words were true and to look into the actual funding procedures required for the acquisition.
The staff member smiled and spread out several brochures. Her finger pointed across the pages as she gave a clear explanation.
“I see. You’ve made a great decision. There is a special program supported by the government, especially for immigrant families. It’s for Socially Disadvantaged Applicants (SDA). The USDA supports 45% of the farm’s price with a long-term, low-interest loan, and the remaining 50% can be borrowed from a private bank with a USDA guarantee. As a result, the cash you need to prepare is only 5% of the farm’s price.”
I could feel my father’s eyes slowly widening as a light of hope dawned on him. He had come with a sliver of expectation in his heart, but he had been worried that his son might have been speaking out of turn. Now that he realized what I had told him was true, his heart began to race.
“Is it really... only 5%? A vineyard isn’t exactly cheap, you know.”
The staff member smiled kindly and nodded.
“Yes, that’s correct. In fact, many people are successfully operating farms through this program. I can assist you with the application and approval process, so you don’t need to worry.”
My father turned his gaze toward me.
“Wooseok, what do you think? Can we really do this?”
I met my father’s eyes with absolute conviction.
“We can do it, Dad. Leave it to me. I can definitely save this vineyard.”
My father looked at my face for a moment, then smiled and spoke to the staff member again.
“That’s wonderful. Please, tell us in detail how we should proceed from here.”
The staff member continued to explain everything with a bright smile...
“Great. First, you need a contract with the current owner. You should sign the contract for the transaction amount stated therein and pay 5% of the price as a down payment. After that, you’ll need the contract, various land certificates, a business plan, proof of debt and assets, a credit report...”
Though I held a PhD in agriculture, I had never been a farm owner myself, so I was taken aback by the unexpected mountain of paperwork. However, my father, perhaps thinking these were documents he was naturally expected to provide, began writing them down meticulously one by one.
Seeing him like that, I wondered if I had misunderstood my father all this time.
I thought he failed because he was incompetent... but maybe he tried his absolute best and just failed because of bad luck. I didn’t know anything, and I just hated him for it.
I felt a pang of self-reproach, but then...
From now on, I’ll just help him well with the farming.
I settled it simply in my mind.
“Alright. I’ve set an appointment with the owner for tomorrow. He isn’t here today. He must be out looking for money. I could tell he was happy when I said I’d take it off his hands.”
“That’s good.”
“Yeah... now, you go to school.”
“Pardon?”
“You’re not going to go?”
The fact that my father had let me skip school to follow him this morning was his way of acknowledging how important this matter was. But now that we had done what we needed to do, he was telling me to hurry to school, so I had to pack my bag and head there. And at school, someone was waiting for me.
“Brian! You’re coming today, right?”
“Ah... Rachel...”
I had arrived near lunchtime, but she somehow knew. She was looking down at me with her arms crossed and her weight shifted to one leg—the exact same posture as yesterday.
“The part you’re presenting is very important. And this meeting is...”
“I know, I created it.”
“...?”
“I’ll be there today. I even prepared for it.”
“Well, that’s a relief. See you later.”
The truth was, the reason I didn’t want to go to that meeting was that I didn’t want to see my former wife.
This feels disgusting.
Have I ever hated anyone this intensely? Perhaps she was the first. She was someone I hated even more than that dim-witted Caden Harper, who used to shoulder-check me and spout racist remarks every time we crossed paths.
There was only one reason: she wouldn’t let me see my child. If she had let me meet them even a few times a year, I wouldn’t have poured my whole heart into hating her.
“If you go to California, you’re betraying me and the child!”
“How is that a betrayal? It’s just a change of location. Come down with me. I’ll make sure you don’t have to worry about making a living!”
“Aaaargh! Making a living isn’t everything! I don’t want to get dirt under my fingernails! I don’t want to make our child a farmer’s kid! If you want to go, go alone!”
I found out much later that she didn’t want me—she wanted the Asian accountant who was easier to talk to. Rather than giving up half my assets, I hated that she hid the child from me so much that I had to get visitation rights through the court, and even then, she reported me for violence.
I had wondered what she hated so much about me, but I later learned it was because she wanted to meet someone new. A terrible woman...
Anyway, after school, I went to a small lecture room at Vintage High School, where seven Asian students were gathered. Chinese, Japanese, Korean, Thai... a small society gathered to block the natural disaster that was racism.
I hadn’t intended to gather them like this from the start, but it happened naturally. People who needed a fence and an exchange of information flocked together like bees drawn to flowers.
“Sorry, I was supposed to present yesterday, but something came up.”
I smiled awkwardly, feeling the intense gazes on me. One of them was particularly burning, but I pretended not to notice.
“But I did do the research well.”
As I sat on the desk and took out the notes I had prepared, everyone got ready to write. Among them, a female student with a small face, large eyes, and long, black hair was staring at me with a faint smile.
She really was young back then...
Comparing my last memory of her in her mid-forties to her face now, it was hard to believe they were the same person. Moreover, her current face lacked that venomous look that used to make my blood run cold.
“I looked into two routes for tax and accounting. One is a route that minimizes tuition while producing optimal results, and the other is a route where you can confidently become a New Yorker while bearing the expensive tuition.”
It wasn’t so much that I had researched it now, but rather that I was speaking from the experience I gained in my previous life.
“First, assuming you attend college within California, the annual tuition for CSU (California State University) is around $6,000 to $7,000, and it’s said that practical, hands-on learning is possible at a low cost. It’s also evaluated as being advantageous for entering New York accounting firms. San Jose State University, in particular, is said to be advantageous for employment at Silicon Valley companies...”
Since the information I had researched was difficult for high school students to find on the internet at the time, everyone’s eyes were sparkling. Cowin, a slender Japanese friend who had been taking notes diligently, asked, wondering how I had found such data:
“Then where are you going?”
“I’m not going to the colleges here.”
“Then?”
“Uh... I would have said something different before, but I’ve changed my mind. I’m going to UC Davis. I plan to go there and study agriculture.”
The friends were surprised at those words, but the most surprised person among them was Elena—my former wife, Choi Sujeong.
“You’re going to farm? You said you were going to be an accountant!”
It wasn’t as if I was being forced to go to college because my parents wanted me to. While there are farmers who are just good at farming, there are also farmers who earn high profits through excellent farming methods. And for those farmers to promote themselves, a good academic background is extremely useful.
Graduating from UC Davis wasn’t just for show for my parents.
“I told you, I changed my mind. I’m going to help my parents and farm.”
At those words, the expression on her face, which had been looking at me with a warm smile until now, hardened. But I didn’t care.
“And I don’t think I’ll be able to attend this meeting anymore because of the farming. Sorry... but I hope you all have good results in your career paths.”
I waved to my dumbfounded friends and left the lecture room. But someone came running out and grabbed my arm.
“Why are you suddenly going to farm?”
Seeing Elena’s desperate appearance, I recalled a memory I had forgotten again.
“Ah, we were supposed to go to NYU together, weren’t we?”
“What is this... don’t act like you didn’t know.”
To send her son to NYU with her, my parents had taken out not only student loans but also personal credit loans despite their lack of means. I know all too well now how heavy my parents’ shoulders must have been during that process.
“I’m sorry, I think I need to stay here. You should go to NYU alone.”
At my calm answer, Elena’s pupils shook violently. But I didn’t want to be entangled with her anymore, so I removed her hand from my arm and turned away.
“You’re not going with me? You’ll regret this.”
Her angry voice followed from behind. For the first time, I saw the shadow of my ex-wife in her expression, which had been so different from before.
“I’m staying so that I won’t have any regrets.”
Leaving my ex-wife behind, I severed the ties with her myself.
The next day, when I went to Redwood Vineyard with my parents, I met the owner, John Anderson. He looked very gloomy, perhaps because he was handing over his farm.
“You want to buy the farm? With what money?”
“There’s a support program for immigrant workers.”
“Hmph! They don’t help people like me, but they help immigrant workers... damn politicians... It’s $1.5 million. Can you afford that?”
My father flinched at John Anderson’s sharp glare. He knew we could acquire the farm with the 5% down payment of $75,000, but seeing my father hesitate for a moment, wondering if it was right to buy at that price, I stepped forward.
“Under normal circumstances, one might say $1.5 million is reasonable, but you’ve put the farm up for sale because it’s failing, haven’t you? Did you really list it for $1.5 million?”
“Ha, this kid... are you saying I’m lying right now?”
At his shouting, I became certain that John was lying.
A vineyard isn’t a house; there’s no way he would have listed it with a real estate agent. He must have asked someone he knew to sell it for him, and there’s no way that price was set in stone.
“Fine. Then I’ll ask the investors. That will be more certain.”
At those words, he was taken aback and flustered.
“W-what? Do you think they’ll tell you a lower price if you ask them?”
“At the very least, they’ll be induced to trade with us at a reasonable price.”
“...”
“I have one method that would be good for both you, Mr. John Anderson, and for us. Would you like to hear it?”
Even though it was the words of a young kid who didn’t even look like an adult yet, he had spoken quite cleverly, so John Anderson had no choice but to listen.
“What is it?”
“We lower the acquisition price as much as possible. A significant portion of the acquisition price would go to the investors anyway, right? Instead, if you lower the price, I’ll entrust the distribution of the grapes and wine produced at the farm to you for two years starting next year. How about that?”
It wasn’t illegal, but it was a scheme(?) that would be hard for a student to come up with. John Anderson’s jaw dropped.