The darkness that had swallowed California gradually lifted, and the world once again radiated a gentle warmth.
Frederick, who had battled the cold all through the dawn and had come into the farm office to rest for a moment, sipped the cold coffee he'd brought in and left half-finished yesterday with his weary body.
Having finally thawed his body in front of the warm gas heater, he subconsciously fiddled with the radio's volume dial. Following a crackling noise mixed with static, the weathercaster's dry voice flowed out.
"...An unusual high-pressure system descending from the Arctic is stagnating over central California. This morning, the lowest temperatures in the Brentwood and Lodi areas recorded minus 4.5 degrees Celsius, a record figure not seen in one hundred years since the early 1900s. The greater problem is that this air mass is moving very slowly. At minimum, for the next three days, severe frost damage dropping below freezing every night is expected to continue. In farming households..."
Listening to the voice flowing from the radio, Frederick let out a deep sigh. Three days, it had said. Having poured all of the farm's manpower and resources into getting through just last night, the news that he would have to endure three more days was like a bolt from the blue.
Just then, the front door opened weakly and someone came in.
"I'm back..."
It was Brandon, who had gone to protect the almond orchard. Seeing his son enter the living room, Frederick sprang up and went to him. Brandon's face was a mess, smeared with black soot that had billowed out from the burners. Only around his eyes remained white, while his entire face looked as though it had been painted with charcoal, and his expensive leather jacket was covered with scorch marks here and there, reeking of a pungent oil smell.
"How did it go?"
Frederick approached in surprise, but it wasn't out of worry for his son's physical condition. As a farmer, such efforts were only natural; what was important was the safety of the almonds.
Instead of answering, Brandon bowed his head deeply. His son's shoulders were trembling faintly.
"Dad... just as Brian instructed, I concentrated the burners under the fans and kept the fire going all night. I poured oil like crazy and ran the fans... but around four in the morning, when the temperature suddenly plummeted, the flower buds in a few corner areas turned black. I don't think I saved them all. I'm sorry, Dad."
Long streaks of transparent tear tracks ran down Brandon's soot-covered cheeks. Normally, he would have whined, "Why did you have to send me to such a hard place," but now he was sincerely heartbroken over the several dozen trees he had failed to protect.
Frederick felt a surge of overwhelming emotion. He hugged his son tightly and patted his back with his rough hands.
"No, Brandon. It's enough that you didn't run away and held your ground in that cold. It's because you endured through the night that many of our almond orchard's trees survived. You really worked hard, my son."
*Sob...*
Even with his father's consolation, Brandon shed tears. He was too heartbroken that the trees he had painstakingly raised all last year had been badly hurt. And Frederick felt both sorry and proud to see his son beginning to understand a farmer's heart.
The father and son, having comforted each other briefly, dragged their heavy bodies back outside. Though the temperature was still below freezing, they had to check the condition of the Brentwood cherry orchard.
Arriving at the orchard, Brandon stopped as if frozen in place. The scenery unfolding before his eyes was something he had never once seen in his entire life.
Thousands of cherry trees wore transparent, solid coats of ice on every single branch, every single fruit. The morning sunlight scattered through the ice crystals, and the entire orchard shone brilliantly as if it were a vast diamond forest.
"Is all of this... ice?"
Brandon muttered in wonder. Just then, Brian's pickup truck, returning from the pear farm in Lodi, kicked up a cloud of dust as it entered through the main gate. The moment the car stopped, Chloe got down. She too had rolled around in Lodi's mud puddles, her pant legs were a mess, and her face was haggard.
"Dad! Brandon!"
Chloe ran over and the family embraced each other. A deep sense of relief that only those who had battled through the night could share flowed between the three. Chloe was startled when she saw Brandon's face, but she immediately took his hand tightly and told him he had worked hard.
I, who had been silently watching the family's reunion from afar, got out of the car and approached Frederick. Turning my head to check the state of the trees in one sweep, I felt relieved at the cherry orchard that had become a crystal kingdom.
"Good work."
"We protected the cherries well. It's thanks to you."
"What about the almonds?"
At that, Brandon, standing beside Frederick, hung his head. Seeing his soot-blackened face and clothes, one could tell he had suffered greatly until dawn last night, but there was no one here who hadn't suffered.
Rather than praising his efforts, I asked for the results.
"What about the almond trees?"
"We saved quite a few, but... there were problems in several areas. There are quite a lot of trees whose flower buds look black."
When frost damage occurs, the moisture inside the flower buds or young fruits freezes, forming crystals. These sharp ice crystals tear the cell membranes; afterward, when the temperature rises and the ice melts, the liquid inside the destroyed cells flows out.
When this meets oxygen and oxidizes, it turns from brown to black in an instant; from a person's perspective, the flower buds turn black, and this is how one determines that frost damage has occurred.
"So how many are affected?"
"Maybe... several dozen trees or so?"
Seeing Brandon's self-blaming expression, I was somewhat relieved.
"That means you endured well."
This wasn't just empty words; it was genuine praise.
"Is... that so?"
"You did as I instructed, right?"
"Of course! I placed the burners right beneath the fans so they would blow the hot air downward."
Fortunately, Brandon had done exactly as I instructed. Had the fans and burners been placed separately, the effect would have been greatly reduced.
Furthermore, thanks to the insulating effect of the almond shell itself, even if the outside air was minus 4.5 degrees, as long as they bought time before the fruit's internal temperature dropped below minus 2 degrees, it would have been easier to endure than the cherries.
"You did well."
"But why didn't you spray water on the almond orchard like you did here?"
"Mature almond trees are large species that grow tall and spread wide; if you spray water on them, the weight is enormous and the branches can't bear it. Moreover, even if they could bear it, the almond orchard is larger than the cherry orchard, so running all the sprinklers would make the water pressure unable to cope."
"Ah..."
I turned my gaze to Frederick.
"Sir, did you check the weather forecast?"
At my question, Frederick's expression darkened again.
"Yes, I heard it just now. They say it will continue like this for another three days. Brian, can we really endure the remaining three days? We can somehow manage with the cherries, but the almonds... and the workers will have a hard time enduring too."
"For now, pay the workers more than triple their usual daily wage. You have to rotate them somehow. Send them home during the day and have them work at night. And sir, though it will be difficult, rest a little and then secure some kerosene."
"I have to move now. Once time passes, all the farm owners will come out trying to get fuel."
"You'll be tired, but that will be for the best. You must secure as much as you can, even if it's expensive. Don't be stingy. Since most cherry farms will take a huge hit, if you survive the frost damage, you'll earn at least three times the usual annual profit."
"Understood."
Then Frederick gently cupped his disheveled daughter's face in both hands and asked.
"The pear orchard?"
"We protected it well. No problem."
"...You did well. Very well."
Now his daughter had fully become a farmer. Frederick felt more deeply moved that his two children had become completely new people than by having overcome the frost and protected the crops.
"What will you do now?"
"I need to rest, since it's been a hard night. I'm heading to Napa right away."
Honestly, I was at the point where I wanted to collapse on the floor right then and there. But since I had to collapse at Redwood if I was going to collapse at all, I needed to hurry back to Napa Valley.
I wondered if Elder Warren had managed somehow, but I was also worried the old man might have overexerted himself.
"I see. Napa must be badly damaged too."
"It's probably at least as bad as here, if not worse. The grape farming in the Napa and Sonoma areas must be ruined."
The 2008 vintage from wineries in the Napa and Sonoma areas would certainly become difficult to find.
"I see. I hope your farms endured well too. Get going now, and drive carefully."
"Yes, then..."
I lightly kissed Chloe on the cheek and departed the farm.
"Let's go home too."
As his son spoke looking utterly exhausted, Frederick patted his shoulder.
"Yes, let's do that."
Just as the three were about to leave the farm, looking exhausted. Before they could even get in the car, a black SUV crossed the unpaved road at the distant farm entrance and came speeding in, kicking up dust.
"Who could it be at this hour? Someone from the Hartfords?"
Brandon muttered in a guarded voice. However, the man who got out of the car was a typical city businessman who looked good in a suit. On his chest hung an ID badge emblazoned with the clear logo "COSTCO Wholesale." It was Mark, the fresh food buyer at Costco.
"Mr. Frederick Harris! Good heavens, I've arrived at just the right time! Why didn't you answer your phone?"
"My phone? Ah..."
Realizing he had left his cell phone in the office, Frederick soon asked him.
"But what brings you here? At this hour of the morning..."
The current time was just past eight in the morning. It was a time when most office workers wouldn't even have gone to work yet.
"What else! It's because of the frost damage! The central California logistics line is on red alert. All staff have been calling hundreds of contract farms, but they either didn't answer or yelled that they couldn't supply while crying and hung up. I'm personally visiting the farms that couldn't be reached. Please, please don't tell me that cherry supply is impossible."
He looked at Frederick with desperate eyes. But Brandon, watching this from the side, asked.
"It's eight in the morning, and you've already made all the calls and come all the way here?"
Mark answered, narrowing his eyes slightly.
"The agricultural wholesale market usually starts at three or four in the morning. Since all hell broke loose at midnight yesterday, we've been calling almost all cooperatives and individual farms since dawn. We passed over Harris Farm here thinking it was a member of the Brentwood Cherry Growers Cooperative, but as it turns out, it wasn't affiliated?"
Frederick knew it was a lie. Knowing that the cooperative had steered them away from buying Harris Farm's cherries, it was clear they had delayed contacting him as much as possible. But Frederick deliberately pretended not to know.
"I see."
"By the way, the condition of the cherries...?"
As he glanced beyond Frederick, he saw the farm completely covered in ice and gaped.
"What, the farm...?"
"The cherries are fine."
"Did you say fine?"
Mark made an expression of disbelief, and Frederick shrugged.
"I protected the cherries with ice. Once the temperature returns to normal, the cherries will be in perfect condition to be delivered without any damage."
"Ah, I see! Thank goodness! Hahaha! That is truly fortunate!"
Watching the jubilant Mark, Frederick spoke.
"But I'm afraid there's a problem."
"What? What...?"
"Didn't you notify us that you wouldn't be taking our farm's cherries? So I've set aside our cherries to send them elsewhere."
It was a clever choice of words. He didn't say he had signed a contract with another party, but mentioned stock set aside to send elsewhere, leaving a sliver of possibility.
Naturally, Mark became desperate.
"Do business with us. We'll pay $4.5 per pound."
By normal year standards, $4.5 per pound was more than double the usual price. But Frederick gave a regretful smile.
"I'm sorry, but the party offering us a contract has already named a higher price."
He hadn't discussed contracts with anyone, but Frederick shamelessly lied, and the desperate Mark opened one hand fully and raised fingers with the other.
"We'll pay $6. That's three times the normal year price. I beg you. Please give us the cherries."
Looking at Mark's earnestly pleading face, Frederick spoke in a low voice.
"$6.50."
"...Understood."
Frederick showed a faint smile and spoke.
"I'm too tired now, so let's discuss the contract after the frost passes. The crisis isn't over yet..."
And so Frederick walked away, leaving behind Mark, who was looking at him as if he were a pop star.