Farm Upgrades (2)
A few days later, a luxury sedan arrived at Redwood Winery. Stepping out of the vehicle were Frederick and Chloe, and, quite unexpectedly, Brandon as well.
"Pay close attention. This farm is run by someone who knows a lot more about agriculture than you do."
"I got it."
Brandon wore an expression of clear dissatisfaction, but he didn't complain, instead observing the farm's atmosphere. The dismissive attitude he’d held at first seemed to have vanished, replaced by a glint of curiosity. It was a change that had occurred ever since he tasted the cherry wine.
Frederick pointed toward a small vineyard tractor chugging along the rows of grapevines.
"Look at that. Even in winter, the tractor doesn't just sit idle. Is that how you keep things running on your farm?"
"I was planning on doing that soon."
"I don't know about other crops, but for the walnut orchard you're in charge of, you must plant cover crops. I told you the reason why, didn't I?"
"Yes. Because if it rains, the soil becomes muddy and erodes. Cover crops hold the ground together, so it's essential..."
"Right. I see you remembered."
Pleased that his son had remembered the important details despite his constant grumbling, Frederick gave his shoulder a quick squeeze before heading up to the winery.
"Welcome."
"Good to see you."
My father and Frederick, who had grown quite close, greeted each other with a warm hug. They shook hands with me, took their seats, and Chloe and Brandon stood behind them. My father and Frederick sat facing each other at the table.
"You've heard the details, I assume?"
"Yes. It seems my child went to your home and managed to charm the owner."
"Hahaha, so it seems. I was thoroughly charmed, indeed. The contract is here, so let's review it."
The title of the contract clearly read: [Redwood–Harris Strategic Partnership Agreement (2004–2034)].
[Redwood–Harris Strategic Partnership Agreement (2004–2034)]
"A strategic partnership agreement between Redwood and Harris... sounds impressive."
"I think so too. 'Grow the Harris farm and use it to make wine.' Isn't that a true win-win? For the profit benchmark, I used the average of the last five years. I thought you might be curious about the associated costs, so I've attached an annual analysis of revenue and expenses prepared by an accountant."
It wasn't 30% of revenue, but 30% of profit, so he had brought detailed records of the costs. Labor, packaging, refrigeration, shipping, pesticides, various fertilizers, insurance, and even loans were meticulously listed.
After seeing this, I understood why wineries that owned their own grape farms in California made such overwhelming amounts of money.
Other farms struggle to process their primary products directly, but grape farms are unique in that they produce the added value of wine through their own wineries. And since the product is essentially a luxury good, the unit price is high.
Cherry wine sells for $18 a bottle, but even a standard Pinot Noir goes for $20 to $40, so there's no comparison. Napa's Cabernet Sauvignon, in particular, starts at $40 and goes up to $100, with cult-level wines far exceeding that.
You can spend your whole life growing and selling grapes, but one successful vintage can bring in tens of millions of dollars—that is the California wine market.
"Are you sure you can do this?"
Before stamping the contract, my father turned to me and asked with a very serious expression. Once the seal was set, there was no turning back, and more importantly, this involved the lives of another family. He had been asking if I could bear that heavy weight since yesterday, but my answer remained the same.
"Of course. Trust me."
Seeing me nod calmly, my father signed without hesitation.
"Let's do well."
"I will do my best."
And so, the two families finished signing the deal. As the title of the contract stated, a strategic partnership had been formed.
"When do we start?"
Frederick asked that immediately.
"I'll head over to the farm tomorrow."
"What do I need to prepare?"
"Hmm... quite a lot... you'll need to write it down."
As Frederick tilted his head, wondering what could possibly require a list, Chloe—who had worked with me a few times—pulled out a notebook as if she had been waiting for it.
"Tell me."
"First, 500 tons of wood waste."
"What?"
"Not 500 kilograms, but tons?"
Everyone was stunned from the very start.
"Yes, 500 tons. You don't have to prepare it all at once. You have about fifteen days to a month, so you can collect it within that time. You'll need a very large open space. And I need 250 tons of fully rotted compost. Animal manure is fine, food waste compost is fine, too. Even rotted green manure crops will work."
As the list grew, Frederick and Brandon’s jaws dropped. Brandon, in particular, looked terrified that I might assign the task to him.
"And I need things like molasses (a sticky syrup from sugarcane residue) or liquid fertilizer made from fish byproducts. About 400 to 500 liters. I'll take care of the other few things needed."
"We can prepare those."
Chloe said it as if it were easy, but I shook my head.
"That's something I have to source myself."
"Ah..."
The parts involving mycorrhizal fungi (fungi that live in symbiosis with plant roots), Bacillus (soil bacteria), and Trichoderma (fungi) were the core of my knowledge. Even if I showed them how to make biochar, there was no reason to reveal the true secrets.
"So, collect 500 tons of wood waste over the next two weeks to a month?"
When Frederick asked, I nodded.
"Yes. It doesn't matter if you buy it or scavenge it. The important thing is that you have to dry it to reduce the moisture content. Obviously, it would be a disaster if it got rained on, right?"
Where would one scavenge 500 tons of wood waste? Most of it would have to be bought.
"I... suppose so."
"You'll need to build a temporary shelter on-site, and please have the large branches shredded finely."
"What on earth are you planning to do?"
"I'm going to make charcoal. Charcoal that is excellent for crops. Now you see why I need a large open space, right?"
"So you're going to build a makeshift kiln there?"
"Exactly. It's only because Frederick's land is so incredibly vast. It's 200 acres, which is why the scale is so large."
My father and I had gone through immense trouble to make biochar-based fertilizer for our 15-acre farm, but because the land was small, it was limited to that amount. At the time, the wood waste my father and I handled exceeded 30 tons, and the hardship was beyond words.
But thinking back, it didn't feel that difficult because I was cultivating my own farm with my own hands.
"Then it will cost a fortune, won't it?"
"Think of this as an investment. Even so, I kept the amount low by opting for partial application. It should be resolved for somewhere between $40,000 and $60,000."
"Haha, well..."
Since he had already signed the contract, Frederick gave a sheepish smile, thinking there was no turning back.
"It might be difficult now and you might wonder why we're doing this, but come harvest time next year, you'll be glad you did."
"I understand. There must be a reason. And just looking at the compost materials you listed, most of them are beneficial for farming, so I'm relieved. It feels like we're actually doing something for the land."
Frederick, who seemed a bit flustered at first, accepted it calmly as he organized his thoughts over time. This alone showed how much he had agonized over farming in the past.
"I'll go see it tomorrow, so please prepare slowly. But don't be too relaxed, or January will pass us by. Calm mind, swift action."
Frederick looked back at his son, and Brandon, who wasn't entirely oblivious, repeated my words.
"Calm mind, swift action."
"Good."
Finally, I looked at Chloe.
"Check the materials you've prepared yourself. With your own eyes."
"I will."
Seeing that she didn't hesitate even at the request to check mountains of wood and foul-smelling compost, it was clear that Chloe had changed from before.
"I'll be there around 3 PM tomorrow."
"See you then."
As I watched the Harris family drive away, my father asked.
"You seem to have started something big... you don't even seem scared."
"Scared? Not at all. I'm just happy there's work to be done to make money."
"That aside, are we just going to leave our new farm as it is?"
Right now, the most important thing to my father was that the cherry wine sold out quickly, and second was that the Silveroak farm, which we acquired after it burned down, be rebuilt to be even better than its original state. It made no sense to leave such expensive land sitting idle.
"Dad, when I told Chloe's family to make biochar, I set the amount with a *tiny* bit of extra room."
"Oh? Really?"
"Yes. After January passes and spring begins, we'll plow the land, lay down gravel, and then spread the leftover biochar from Chloe's place. But if there's no extra, we'll just make more then."
"Alright, I trust you."
"Dad, I'm your son."
As I twitched my eyebrows and shrugged, my father patted my shoulder as if he were proud.
From the next day on, I visited Brentwood, where the Harris farm was located, once a day as if I were punching a time clock. The commute was incredibly grueling; if I had to go to school, it felt like going from Gangnam to Pangyo and then to Ansan, traveling between Sacramento, Brentwood, and Napa Valley.
In short, I was on a forced march.
My mind was reeling from the mountains of wood piled up in an empty lot in Brentwood and the tombs of foul-smelling compost that stung the nose, but Chloe, Brandon, and I worked surprisingly well together to produce the biochar.
Mr. Frederick came out to observe when we first started making the biochar, and after that, he helped the laborers follow my instructions.
Chloe and Brandon, who had wondered what we were doing at first, got the hang of it once they started generating the charcoal and began to pick up the pace.
"You're doing well."
Of course, it wasn't just me and the Chloe siblings making this massive amount of charcoal. There were over thirty laborers involved, and they all moved according to my directions.
Just because the laborers knew how to make biochar didn't mean they could immediately use this method on other farms. Without the core knowledge of the various fungi and bacteria, the effect wouldn't be significant.
After we had been producing biochar for a while, I took the two of them to a nearby cherry tree. Pointing at the tree trunk and the branches in the air with a shovel, I said.
"Listen closely, both of you. You shouldn't put what we made under the tree trunk here. It's not effective here. The roots are most active in the ground under the edge of the branches. This is called the canopy drip line. You dig a circular furrow like a donut, about 1 to 2 meters away from the trunk, like this..."
When I demonstrated first, the two siblings nodded as they watched closely.
"You put what we made into this furrow and cover it with soil. You can do that, right?"
Since it wasn't a difficult task, both of them nodded.
"Good."
Saying that, I handed the shovel to Brandon.
"Huh? What? You want me to do it?"
"You have to. I taught you. I'm the teacher, not a laborer. Okay?"
Brandon, who had been pouting, said.
"...... Mr. Raymond said this kind of thing wouldn't help at all."
It seemed he had been suppressing his reluctance to do something he didn't want to do.
"Is that so? Oh..."
"Do you even know how many trucks are coming and going to get wood waste right now? It costs a ton of money, too. But he says this is all a waste of time."
"Mr. Raymond must be very helpful?"
Brandon nodded as if asking why I would ask such an obvious question. And I was slightly surprised that even Chloe, who was next to him, nodded along.
"Of course. He's worked on our farm for 20 years. He knows everything there is to know about cherry farming methods."
"Then why did he make a mistake with the fertilizer back then?"
For a moment, Brandon flinched and turned his gaze elsewhere. The reason seemed obvious, but I didn't feel the need to point it out in front of Chloe.
"Whatever Mr. Raymond says, I made a deal with your father. And Mr. Frederick asked me—specifically—to teach you perfectly so that you could teach all the other workers."
"......"
"So stop complaining and do as you're told."
At that, Brandon’s face turned red as he huffed, but he eventually suppressed his anger and started shoveling. Seeing that, Chloe wore a smirk of satisfaction.
"Chloe, try it on that tree."
After naturally separating the two, I watched Brandon digging diligently in the distance and asked Chloe, who was about to start shoveling nearby.
"What kind of person is Mr. Raymond?"
"Huh? He's the person who manages the farm."
"From what I've seen, Brandon is just a little... lazy, but he doesn't seem like a bad person."
"True, he's just a little stupid."
I inwardly agreed with her cold assessment of her brother, but I didn't voice it.
"That's why it's dangerous."
"Huh? What is?"
"Brandon seems to trust Mr. Raymond a lot. Perhaps... your brother is being manipulated?"
Chloe, who had been focused on shoveling, looked up and blinked.
"Manipulated?"
"To put it nicely, he's being manipulated, and to put it bluntly... he might be getting used."
Chloe's face slowly began to harden.