A spring day in California’s Napa Valley, where golden sunlight painted the vineyards.
Contrary to the refreshing sight of the endlessly stretching blue-green vineyards delighting the eyes.
“So you’re saying you’re closing down now? Huh?”
Some people were agitated, others sat down as if the sky were falling, and Dad and Mom stared blankly.
It would have been normal to feel anxious and nervous, my heart trembling at this entire situation, but I was simply bewildered.
‘Why am I…? Why have I come back?’
Unlike my confused self, the atmosphere in the front yard of the old wooden farm office at the center of Redwood Vineyard was extremely grim.
All of this was because of the farm owner, John Anderson, who stepped heavily onto a small podium in the yard. John stroked his characteristic coarse beard and pulled down his worn leather cowboy hat.
He let out a deep sigh, looked around at the people, and gave a bitter smile.
“Everyone, whenever I looked at this land, I always felt pride and gratitude. This Napa Valley is the homeland my family has cherished for nearly 50 years, and Redwood Vineyard was like my very soul.”
John’s voice was low and heavy, trembling slightly. His blue eyes shook, unable to hide his emotions.
“But as you all know, this beautiful vineyard has not been kind to us these past few years. The severe drought that has continued for three years, pests and diseases that struck without warning, and even the drastic changes in the wine market… all of them slowly strangled our small farm.”
Some workers averted their gazes, deep shadows falling across their faces, but the men in suits standing in the corner of the farm glared at John with cold eyes.
The people in shabby, comfortable clothes were the workers who had toiled at this farm, and those in suits were likely the investors.
John took off his leather hat, gripping it tightly in his hand as he continued. His expression was filled with deep regret and sorrow.
“Honestly, I wanted to hold on longer. But the debt I already owe the bank has reached an unmanageable level, and the investors are reluctant to put in any more money. In the end, I had no choice but to make this decision. As of today, Redwood Vineyard is closing its doors.”
At his declaration, firm yet deeply steeped in sorrow, the yard fell silent. In the thick, settling silence, I watched my father’s shoulders slump, my heart beating heavily.
John slowly looked around at the people and composed his voice.
“All of these consequences are the responsibility of me, the farm owner. I hope you can forgive the wounds and damage my poor judgment has caused you. I desperately hoped there might be a chance to revive this farm… but my abilities fell short.”
Having finished speaking, John bowed his head deeply. A spring breeze swept across the distant vineyards, rustling the leaves of the grapevines.
And I….
‘I’m back. To 25 years ago….’
I couldn’t believe this situation.
*
“You’re already up? What’s gotten into you? You got up without me waking you?”
Mom looked at me with surprise, as if it were something novel, that I had finished getting ready for school before it was even 8 o’clock.
“Just… I’m graduating high school soon. I figured I should get my act together.”
“Oh my, our son’s all grown up?”
At this time, Mom was still healthy. Having immigrated to America less than a year ago, her skin hadn’t sagged much yet and her eyes were bright.
Although she must have felt immense frustration that the farm where she had barely found work and a foothold had gone bankrupt, she didn’t show it much, perhaps not wanting to worry her son.
Before the regression, I hadn’t seen that.
I had just hated Dad for fleeing to America after failing in business, and I couldn’t stand seeing him toil away at the farm all the same.
My youth, when I deliberately turned a blind eye. I worked as an accountant in New York, and only after Dad collapsed did I return to California and develop an interest in agriculture.
‘Farming? You want to farm in the countryside? Are you crazy?’
At the time, my wife took the child and left for New York again, and I stayed by Mom’s side, who was left alone, and studied agriculture.
I even earned a PhD in agriculture from Cornell, but after losing Mom to illness, life lost all meaning. Living alone, exhausted and lonely, I closed my eyes at some point… and having returned like this, I felt an indescribable emotion.
The lethargy disappeared, and energy seemed to course through my body.
“Is there anything I can help with?”
Just seeing Mom’s vibrant face made me grateful for everything and brought a smile to my face.
“What would you help with? I’m not even going to the farm for the time being.”
“Ah, right. What about Dad?”
“Your dad went to look for another farm. There must be a farm around here where we can work. Don’t worry too much.”
As Mom said, my parents soon found a farm where they could work, and they worked there for over ten years.
“Got it. I’m heading out.”
“Yes, study hard. If anyone says anything, ignore them, don’t fight. You’ll get in big trouble. Understand?”
“I told you not to worry. Everyone’s nice, so nothing like that will happen.”
It was a lie.
There were kind people, but racism exists wherever you go, and school is a place where immature personalities gather.
“Yes, our son… have a good day~”
“Yeah.”
Vintage High School in California’s Napa Valley. The school I attended… no, the school I attend.
With over 1,500 students, diverse ethnicities, and a well-balanced curriculum of academics and extracurricular activities, it was a comprehensive high school.
A comprehensive high school means a school that operates both general education and specialized vocational programs, so one could also receive education in culinary arts, hotel and food service industries, and agriculture.
‘Sigh, Dad will hurt his back farming again and his fingers will become gnarled….’
Even after entering class, the blackboard didn’t register in my eyes; I was lost in thought. Ms. Miller stood in front of the blackboard explaining cell structure with a piece of chalk.
“Everyone, what you see here is the cell wall and the cell membrane. These two parts serve a protective role for the plant cell.”
The students were taking notes in their notebooks or listening quietly, and I, sitting in the back row, listened with a slightly bored expression, scribbling this and that in the margins of my notebook.
‘I don’t want to be an accountant again. If I’m going to work, I’d rather do it my way.’
Now, I didn’t want to make Dad sacrifice himself in the name of doing it for his son anymore.
Just then,
“Brian, are you concentrating?”
Startled, I lifted my head to see Ms. Miller asking with a smile.
“Yes, ma’am. Sorry.”
“Good. Then, could you briefly explain the function of chloroplasts in plant cells?”
“Uh… chloroplasts are organelles that produce the energy needed for plant cells through photosynthesis. They receive sunlight and convert carbon dioxide and water into oxygen and glucose.”
Perhaps because it wasn’t a very difficult topic, Ms. Miller grinned and pointed her finger at me.
“That’s an accurate explanation. Let’s stay focused!”
“Yes.”
Stung, I fixed my gaze on the teacher again, but soon my mind was wandering elsewhere.
The tedious class was ending and I was about to get up to go eat lunch.
“Brian!”
That cringeworthy, skin-crawling name was precisely my English name. To think that instead of my real name, Choe Useok, I was called Brian….
Turning my head toward the voice, a delicate-looking Asian girl was approaching.
“Uh… yeah. What’s up?”
A girl I could vaguely remember.
“What do you mean, what’s up? We were supposed to turn in the group assignment by this morning. You didn’t answer my messages, so I came to find you, and here you are?”
“Messages?”
“I sent you messages. Didn’t you see them?”
I looked around my desk and realized. I had left my old cell phone—which had no functions besides calls and texts—at home.
And I recalled that the cute girl before me was Rachel, from Taiwan, whose English pronunciation was a bit rough but who was extremely smart.
“Ah… sorry. I left my phone at home.”
“Then what about the assignment?”
I had almost asked what assignment, but clamped my mouth shut and made an awkward expression, causing Rachel to cross her arms and sigh.
“Sigh, are you seriously doing this? You were supposed to look into tax accounting for college applications.”
Only then did a distant memory surface.
During senior year of high school, in a group of fellow Asians, we had each conducted research for college applications, and at the time, I had been interested in tax and accounting so I was supposed to look into that.
“I forgot today. Can’t I give it to you tomorrow?”
“Did you at least look into it?”
“Of course I did.”
I had probably done the research. If I looked, it would be there. Well, if not, I could just research it now. And honestly, I knew a lot from experience even without looking it up.
“Then you’ll come to after-school study today, right?”
“…Sorry, but I think I need to head home early today.”
“What’s with you? You’re acting weird today.”
“Me? How so?”
She stared at me intently for a moment and said,
“You know you’re being really insincere? Your tone and everything… you were the one who started this study group and were the most enthusiastic about it.”
Now I remembered what kind of study group it was. And… I also remembered another Asian girl who would be in that Asian study group. She was my wife from my previous life… but right now, I had no leisure to see her, nor did I want to.
“Rachel, it’s not like that. I really do have something urgent at home.”
“Yeah? Okay.”
Though we hadn’t been close, seeing friends I remembered one by one made the reality of the situation sink in in real time.
Since returning, it had felt like watching a brief movie, so I had simply observed things as they flowed, but as I gradually began to realize that this place where I now lived was reality, my heart began to thump loudly.
From then on, I just waited for school to end. I had always felt that way when studying, but time flowed so slowly….
When class finally ended, I rode the bicycle I had left in front of school and pedaled like mad. I wanted to get home even a little bit faster.
“Dad! Dad!”
As soon as I arrived home, I flung aside my bicycle and rushed inside to see my parents sitting at the table talking.
“Why are you back so early?”
A heavy atmosphere indicated they had been discussing serious matters until just moments ago, but Mom forced a bright expression. She seemed not to want to show her son a serious atmosphere.
I dropped my backpack in the living room and plopped down at the table, looking Dad and Mom straight in the eyes as I spoke.
“Don’t look for a new farm.”
“What do you mean?”
Dad, whose hair had turned white, asked.
“You’re looking for a place to work. Let’s not do that.”
“What are you talking about? We have to find a place to work. How else do we earn money to live?”
“At best, we’d only earn enough to barely survive month to month.”
“What are you…?”
“Let’s acquire Redwood Vineyard. Let’s raise that farm ourselves.”
Dad and Mom looked at me with eyes that said I was spouting nonsense.