Even after the pickup truck had passed through the farm’s front gate, Chloe stood there for a while.
From the grafting site came the sounds of the workers moving about, and the April afternoon sunlight was slanting long over the cherry orchard. Chloe took out her phone and called Brian. It rang twice before he picked up.
“Well, guess what happened today? Two members who’d left the Cherry Growers Cooperative came by.”
“Really? What for?”
“They said they were worried because the unit price for Bing cherries wasn’t coming out well, and they wondered if they should switch varieties too.”
“Ah... I can see why. They must be agonizing over it. They’re farming just as hard as anyone else, but someone else is making more than three times what they are. How irritating would that be? Actually, it’s more than three times.”
“Right. If it were me, I’d probably be so upset I wouldn’t be able to sleep. Anyway, so I showed them the grafting site. It didn’t feel right to just coldly send them away.”
“What did they say after seeing it?”
“They said they wanted to do it too.”
A brief silence flowed from the other end of the line.
“So what did you tell them?”
“I said I’d think about it for now.”
“Good.”
“But Brian, what do you think? Should I help them?”
Brian was silent for a moment. Chloe waited, looking at the young trees where new shoots had begun to sprout.
“Do you really need to go out of your way to help first? The Brentwood Cherry Growers Cooperative might end up switching varieties on their own anyway.”
“If that were possible, would they have come to me? Wouldn’t they have discussed it with William Hartford and done it?”
“Who knows. They might have come to you first just to get information, then discuss it with William and decide whether to switch varieties...”
As she listened, Chloe’s expression turned sullen.
“What, is that really what this is?”
“I don’t know, but in any case, there’s no need for you to step forward first. If the cooperative comes out saying they’ll switch varieties on their own, then you’re the only one who ends up looking like a fool, aren’t you?”
“That’s true.”
“Just keep pretending you don’t know. When it looks like a dispute is going to break out on a side that has nothing to do with you, the best thing to do is pretend you don’t know and not get involved. Then later...”
“Later?”
“If they directly ask you for help at that point, then you can think differently. Weigh how much benefit there is for you.”
“Ah... I get it. What I should do.”
When Chloe, now reassured, answered, a warm voice came from the other end of the receiver.
“The harvest is coming up soon, so prepare well. Take care of your health. I’ll have time in two days, so I’ll come by and take a look.”
“Okay. Love you~”
“I love you too.”
Chloe gave the phone a quick smooch and hung up. Then, as if she had never acted cute at all, she shouted.
“Joseph! We have to finish up to Block D today! Hurry!”
Her voice rang sharply beneath the April afternoon sky.
The next morning, at the Hartford Farm office.
Thomas Cromwell and Dexter Price were seated side by side on the sofa. They had steeled themselves from the moment they received Hartford’s call last night, but once they actually stepped into the office, they couldn’t help the chill running down their spines.
William Hartford welcomed the two men warmly. He brought out coffee himself and smiled brightly, as though greeting old acquaintances.
But to the two men, being welcomed with that smile felt even more frightening.
“Come in. How are the farms these days?”
“Well... they’re fine.”
A slightly tense Thomas answered briefly. Hartford slowly took his seat and lifted his coffee cup. Various bits of conversation came and went. This year’s spring weather, the harvest outlook, local agricultural events...
William Hartford never rushed. He gave the two no chance to relax, yet did not pressure them directly. It was the seasoned skill of a man who had led the cooperative for decades.
Only after quite some time did Hartford speak, as though the thought had just occurred to him by chance.
“By the way, I heard you went to Harris Farm yesterday. Was there some reason?”
Dexter’s hand stiffened almost imperceptibly on his coffee cup. Thomas tried to maintain his expression, but he felt the muscles in his jaw pull slightly taut.
Watching their reactions as if amused, William did not press them. Instead, he nodded as if he understood and said,
“Well, I can see why you’d be curious. There’s been a lot of talk about Harris Farm around Brentwood lately. I’m curious myself about how that farm is operating.”
Then he paused for a moment before adding,
“But Thomas, Dexter. How many years have we worked together? You both know how solid a fence the cooperative has been for us.”
No one answered. William did not try to fill that silence. Instead, he slowly rose, picked up a sheet of paper from his desk, and came back. Then he casually placed it on the table.
“Ah, as it happens, the allocation chart for this season’s cooperative joint shipment volume came out today. Everyone should take a look.”
The document lay before the two men, and William lifted his coffee cup again and began looking out the window. As if he had no interest in the paper at all.
Thomas, whose heart had dropped, was the first to scan it with his eyes. One line, then another... and the moment he confirmed the number written beside the name of his farm, he couldn’t breathe. It was noticeably lower than last year. Dexter must have spotted the same number, because his hand stopped over the document.
Knowing full well what their expressions must look like, William spoke leisurely.
“The weather has been so good this year that the overall harvest volume is likely to increase, you see. There was a bit of adjustment in the allocations. Well, the details will be sent out later in an official notice, but I thought it would be good for you to know in advance.”
The meeting ended like that. Hartford saw the two men off with a smiling face to the very end.
In despair, Thomas said nothing on the drive home. Dexter was the same. The two exchanged brief farewells in front of the farm and parted ways in their respective cars.
Thomas arrived at the farm and sat for a long while without getting out of the car. All sorts of thoughts circled in his head.
A reduction in the cooperative’s joint shipment volume did not simply mean reduced sales. If they were pushed back in the allocation of volume entering major distributors like Costco and Walmart through the cooperative, they would have to sell the remaining cherries individually. But for an individual farm in Brentwood to negotiate unit prices directly with major distributors was, in reality, nearly impossible. In the end, they would have to dispose of them at rock-bottom prices, or perhaps even throw some away.
If he applied this year’s expected harvest volume and the reduced allocation, the loss would amount to hundreds of thousands of dollars. It was to the point where he might have to dip into the money he had saved for his daughter Catherine’s wedding.
Letting out a deep sigh, Thomas slowly got out of the car. When he raised his head, the cherry trees stood fresh and green beneath the sunlight. In a month, all those trees would be stripped bare. And where those cherries went now depended on Hartford’s hands.
Twenty-two years.
In all the years he had run this farm, there had been times when things were uncomfortable with William Hartford, the chairman of the cooperative, and times when their opinions did not align. But in the end, the cooperative had still been a fence. As long as he remained inside that fence, he at least would not starve.
But now that fence was tightening around his neck.
Dexter’s situation, on the other hand, was more complicated than Thomas’s.
Three years ago, when he expanded his farm, he had taken out a bank loan. At the time, interest rates were low and cherry prices were not bad, so it had not been an unreasonable decision. But after the subprime crisis broke out, the interest on his variable-rate loan rose sharply, and if his income decreased, serious damage was inevitable.
That evening, Dexter sat at the dining table and told his wife, Susan, what had happened that day. By the time he had told her even about the allocation chart, Susan’s expression had hardened visibly.
“So how much did it go down?”
“About thirty percent compared to last year.”
Susan held her head and was silent for a moment. As if looking over a household ledger, she was calculating in her head. The children’s tuition, interest, living expenses, insurance premiums. If it dropped by thirty percent, she could immediately see what would have to be cut.
“Honey.”
“Yeah.”
“That thing with Harris Farm... can’t we just pretend it never happened?”
Dexter could not answer. Susan’s voice did not contain resentment, but fear. That weighed on him even more.
“We’ve already been marked by the chairman. He didn’t even ask for our opinions. He just shoved the allocation chart at us and handed down the sentence. Even if we pretend now that it never happened, the decision that’s been made can’t be reversed.”
“Haah...”
After dinner ended and the children went into their rooms, Dexter stayed alone in the kitchen and did the dishes. Hot water ran over the backs of his hands. If he went to the chairman and made an excuse, saying they had gone to Harris Farm yesterday just to look around, would he let it slide? Would he really refuse to hear even an apology? Thinking all kinds of thoughts, he finished the dishes and was drying his hands on a dish towel when his phone rang. It was Thomas.
“Can you come over for a bit?”
An hour later.
The two men were sitting across from each other at Thomas’s kitchen table, with two cans of beer placed in front of them. For a while, neither said a word. Outside the window, the night had settled quietly over Brentwood.
Dexter, who had been hesitating, opened his mouth first.
“I’ll be honest. I’m scared as hell right now.”
Thomas, listening, took a sip from his beer can.
“Same here.”
“Susan said yesterday that we should pretend it never happened. That maybe the chairman would let it go if we did. I told her it wouldn’t work, that we’d already been marked, but I found myself thinking the same thing, you know? Wondering if his mind would change if we apologized even now...”
“Yeah?”
“I have loan interest. And the kids.”
Thomas, his chest feeling tight, said nothing. He knew Dexter’s situation. Three years ago, when Dexter had expanded his farm, they had talked about it over drinks.
“Thomas, be honest. What are you going to do?”
Thomas set his beer can down on the table and slowly ran a finger over its surface.
“You know what we saw at Harris Farm yesterday afternoon.”
“Yeah.”
“The way they’re switching by blocks. Not ripping everything out at once, but maintaining income on one side while changing the other. The chairman can squeeze us now. And he can do it next year, too. And ten years from now. As long as we’re inside the cooperative... we can’t escape this situation.”
Dexter, who had been listening, set his beer can down on the table. Without saying a word, he simply got up and picked up the jacket hanging on the wall.
Wondering what was going on, Thomas watched him. Dexter put on the jacket and walked toward the front door, then stopped and said briefly,
“Let’s go.”
Thomas’s face brightened, and he sprang up from his seat.
It was a twenty-minute drive to Dare Ridge Country Club, so they arrived quickly. It was past ten at night. Showing up unannounced at this hour was no small breach of manners, but Dexter knew that and still did not take his hand off the bell.
A short while later, the front door opened and Frederick appeared. He had a cardigan draped over his pajamas. He narrowed his eyes for a moment when he saw the two men, then opened the door wider.
“Thomas? Dexter? What are you doing here at this hour?”
“Sorry. For showing up so suddenly. We... have something to talk about. I don’t know if you heard from Chloe, but...”
“I heard. You went by the farm yesterday?”
“That’s right. But William found out that we went to Harris Farm. Then, in retaliation, he sharply reduced our two farms’ allocations in the cooperative joint shipment volume.”
Sensing that this was a difficult situation, Frederick looked back and forth between their faces. His eyes, having farmed for many years, immediately read what it meant for them to come here with those faces at this hour.
“Come in.”
When they entered the living room, Chloe, who had been sitting on the sofa looking at her laptop, raised her head. She looked slightly surprised to see the two men, but soon got to her feet.
“Sit down.”
Frederick went to the kitchen and began brewing tea. Chloe settled on the sofa opposite them, and Thomas and Dexter sat side by side. The atmosphere was similar to when they had sat across from each other at Thomas’s kitchen table earlier, but now it was different. These were the faces of people whose minds were made up.
Frederick brought over two cups of tea on a tray. Then he took a seat beside Chloe. No one easily spoke first. Frederick pushed the teacups in front of the two men and said,
“Tell me in detail.”
Thomas wrapped his hands around the teacup. And slowly opened his mouth.
“As I mentioned earlier…”
A long tale unfolded for a full thirty minutes. The concerns regarding the market, the countless worries that had led them to Harris Farm, and the difficulties they currently faced, all of it…
“So compared to last year, the allocated volume dropped by 30%. Is that it?”
That was the crux of the matter. The two men had come because they could no longer sit still against the chairman’s behavior, which was essentially forcing enormous losses on them this year.
“That’s right.”
“So what do you want?”
At Frederick’s question, the two men looked at each other, and Thomas opened his mouth.
“I was thinking we can’t keep living under William’s tyranny forever. So… Dexter and I alone can’t find an answer, but if you—no, if we start a new cooperative centered around Chloe—what do you think?”
“What?”
Thomas leaned his upper body toward Frederick, who frowned in surprise, and continued.
“Think about it. A cooperative isn’t something that can only be done under Hartford, right? And this could be a tremendous opportunity for Chloe. There are more than one or two members suffering under William right now. If those members come under Chloe, what do you think will happen?”
The living room grew quiet, and Frederick looked at his daughter. And Chloe, who would have to make the most important decision, wore an inscrutable expression as she fell into deep thought.
Queenswood Growers Cooperative (1)
After Thomas and Dexter, who had dropped an unexpected bombshell, left, only Chloe and Frederick remained in the living room.
“Heh, well, this is…”
Frederick set the empty coffee cup down on the table and looked at his daughter. Chloe stared for a moment at the front door through which the two had left, then leaned back against the sofa.
“What do you think?”
Frederick asked with a bewildered expression. He was truly flustered by this situation. And for it to happen to his daughter, of all people…
She had graduated from university now, but until high school, she was a daughter who hadn’t so much as glanced at farming and had caused him endless worry. He had worried she would lose not just the farm but all their assets, yet now veteran farm owners his age had come forward proposing to form a new cooperative centered around his daughter.
He had never even imagined such a thing would happen.
“Don’t you think we should hear what Brian has to say?”
Frederick knew well how great Brian’s influence had been in getting both his daughter and himself this far, so he nodded.
“You’re right. Then don’t think too hard and go to bed early. It’s late.”
“Okay.”
Chloe nodded. But even after Frederick went to his room, she did not get up from the sofa for a while.
A new cooperative.
Because those words were swirling in her head. Members suffering under Hartford would break away and start anew, centered around her. It sounded simple, but Chloe knew better than anyone what a huge undertaking that was. She still vividly remembered when Harris Farm left the cooperative—the waterways were blocked and the distribution network tightened around them.
Chloe picked up her phone, then put it down. It was too late to call at this hour.
She could talk to him tomorrow.
The next afternoon, at Harris Farm.
Perhaps seeing my car pass through the main gate, Chloe came out from the grafting site and walked toward the entrance. I got out of the car and stood under the warm sunlight, sweeping my gaze once over the cherry orchard spread out in the distance.
The sight of them pouring all their effort into grafting one-third of the 200-acre orchard was spectacular.
“It’s progressed a lot.”
Chloe scurried over, hugged me, and after a light kiss, said,
“I have so much to tell you.”
“Haha, I got it. Let’s go.”
The two of us walked side by side toward the site. Chloe spilled everything that had happened last night from beginning to end, as if she had been waiting. About Thomas and Dexter showing up unexpectedly at night, about Hartford applying pressure with the allocation table, and about the new cooperative Thomas had brought up.
I listened quietly, throwing in occasional interjections. After Chloe finished speaking, I fell into thought for a moment. In the area where grafting was already complete, new shoots were sprouting in light green. I looked at those trees as I walked, then stopped in front of one.
“Brian, what do you think?”
Chloe asked from beside me, gauging my reaction.
“Chloe, was it just Thomas who brought up the new cooperative?”
“And Dexter, who came with him? He didn’t say anything, but if he had been negative, he wouldn’t have sat there.”
“Hmm… then it’s still just two people. With you included, three people can’t make a cooperative.”
We sat facing each other at a makeshift table at the edge of the site. Chloe took out two bottles of water and pushed one in front of me. As I opened the cap, I asked Chloe,
“What do you think?”
“For me… but Brian, is this really beneficial for me? Honestly, I’m not sure. Being a cooperative chairman seems like it would be good, but since I haven’t clearly found the reason why I must do this yet, it just feels vague.”
Unlike before, she could now calculate quite well. She had improved a lot.
“Good, let’s make this clear first. Do you know what the cherry farm’s biggest weakness is right now?”
“Hmm… volume?”
“Right. You’re in the middle of grafting right now. The original 200 acres of Harris Farm have completed the variety conversion, but to convert all the additional 200 acres you acquired will take several more years. During that period, even if you want to steadily increase the export volume to Japan, your farm alone has its limits.”
Chloe listened to me, resting her chin on her hand.
“But what if new cooperative members start the variety conversion to Royal Tioga together? In four years, you won’t be negotiating with Zen-Noh and Itochu using just your farm’s volume, but the entire cooperative’s volume. Your bargaining power will be completely different from now.”
“That… would be true.”
The look in Chloe’s eyes changed as she nodded. It seemed a calculator had started clicking in her head.
“It’s the same from our Redwood Holdings standpoint. It’s an opportunity to secure a stable cherry supply chain. Having the entire cooperative as a partner is much more stable than relying on your farm alone. So from my perspective, it’s much more advantageous for you to become the new cooperative chairman too.”
“That’s true.”
“So if you look at the current situation positively, it’s practically an opportunity you absolutely must seize.”
Chloe said, her eyes sparkling as she gripped the water bottle.
“But how can we succeed? What if I step up and get done in by Hartford again?”
I folded my fingers one by one as I spoke.
“First, to successfully form a cooperative, you need three things. The first is numbers.”
“Numbers?”
“Specifically, the number of members. More than half of the existing Brentwood Cherry Growers Cooperative members have to break away for Hartford’s distribution bargaining power to be substantially damaged. If two or three people leave, it actually becomes easier for Hartford to manage. He just has to squeeze those people harder. But if half leave all at once, it’s a different story. The cooperative itself will be shaken.”
“Oh, I got it. What’s next?”
“The second is timing. Right now is the most crucial moment.”
Cute Chloe pursed her lips and tilted her head.
“Why?”
“The harvest is in a month. Once the harvest is over, this year’s volume will already be in Hartford’s hands. The members will have to wait another year. If that happens, everyone will likely say let’s do it next year, and then it will fizzle out. If you’re going to move, you have to rally at least the intent before the harvest, right now.”
“Ah, that makes sense. If we miss the timing, everyone will lose steam, and in the meantime, that greedy William will crack down on the members, and it’ll all be over.”
“And the third is the distribution network. This is the most important.”
“Distribution network?”
“The moment you leave the Hartford cooperative, the Costco and Walmart lines could be cut off. To withstand that, the Japanese export volume has to cover that loss, but individual farms can’t deal with Zen-Noh and Itochu on their own.”
“So?”
“We need a structure where Redwood Holdings supports you from behind. I won’t step forward directly, but I’ll connect through you. From the members’ perspective, they need the conviction that they can export to Japan in the same way Harris Farm does before they’ll have the courage to leave the Hartford cooperative.”
She paused and fell into thought after hearing my words, and I waited silently. Chloe had to finish the calculations and decide on her own for her actions to gain momentum. If she just did as I told her, she would creak along like a robot and eventually lose her judgment, asking me about everything.
That wasn’t what I wanted for Chloe, so I took my time drinking water and basking in the pouring sunlight until she organized her thoughts. Then, at some point, Chloe asked,
“But Brian, I shouldn’t go around meeting the members directly, right?”
As expected, she understood quickly.
“Of course not. If you do that, Hartford will find out immediately, and stronger pressure will come down. Much stronger than now.”
“Then what should I do?”
“You stay still and move through Thomas. Since Thomas is a longtime member, he can quietly gauge the mood and gather like-minded people in one place. You should only appear last when such a meeting is arranged.”
“Ah… like a villain?”
Her sparkling eyes made it seem like she felt she had become the protagonist of a movie.
“Exactly, that’s it. It’s not just because we’re mindful of Chairman William Hartford. From the Brentwood farmers’ perspective, they need to feel that they’re not being dragged along by you, but deciding for themselves. The mindset of being persuaded by someone and making one’s own decision are completely different. The strength to endure when Hartford’s pressure comes later is different too.”
“Oh, that makes sense. Got it.”
“Then ask Thomas first. How many people are dissatisfied under Hartford, and it’s even better if you can get their names. That’s the priority. You can only judge whether you can move or not once you have the numbers.”
She nodded quickly and asked again,
“Got it. But Brian, you know… what if this goes wrong? What if Thomas and Dexter can’t endure it and go back to Hartford? It won’t cause significant damage to our farm, right?”
“Don’t worry. That won’t happen. If they go back, that’s the end of it.”
“Then there’s not much for me to worry about.”
Seeing her much lighter expression, she had undoubtedly understood everything I said completely.
Chloe set the water bottle down on the table with a thud and got up from her seat.
“Got it. I’ll call Thomas.”
Three days later, on the outskirts of Brentwood.
Thomas Cromwell’s farm shed was usually filled with farming tools and fertilizer bags, but this evening was different. A folding table was set up in one corner, with a few beer cans and paper cups on top. A single fluorescent light shone yellow over the table.
There were three people Thomas had contacted quietly. Ray Coburn, Jim Ferguson, and Carl Meyer. They were all members of the Brentwood Cherry Growers Cooperative, and all of them had long-standing grievances with Hartford.
Ray Coburn opened a beer can and said,
“Thomas, what on earth is going on? Asking us to meet in a place like this.”
Thomas, with a rather serious expression, put his elbows on the table and spoke in a low voice.
“Listen. We don’t have time for a long talk. You’ve all seen the recent cooperative allocation table, right?”
The three men’s faces immediately hardened. Then Ray Coburn asked,
“We have. Why?”
“Haven’t they decreased compared to last year?”
Jim Ferguson clicked his tongue softly.
“They have. About 10%.”
“I’m down 30%.”
At Thomas’s words, spoken with a devastated expression, the inside of the shed fell silent for a moment. Ray, Jim, and Carl looked at each other.
Carl Meyer asked cautiously,
“30%? Really? Why?”
“I visited Harris Farm not long ago, with Dexter.”
Silence flowed again. All three immediately understood what that meant. Harris Farm—the name Hartford was most sensitive about.
Ray set his beer can down on the table and said,
“Why did you go?”
“I want to change varieties, too.”
Ray Coburn, who had been about to say something, promptly closed his mouth. The other two were the same. They all admitted that the current unit price of Bing cherries was far too low to tell him he’d done something unnecessary.
“Damn it... that damned Royal Tioga... Do you know that distributors looking for cherries now ask about the variety first? In the old days, they didn’t ask a damn thing about variety. All they asked was where they were grown.”
“Right, they did...”
Karl Meyer, agreeing with him, lowered his head weakly.
“Now, when you say they’re Bing cherries, they put a condition in front of it. ‘Ah, then I’m sorry, but...’ Everyone says they’re sorry. And then they quote 1.1 or 1.2 dollars per pound. Damn it... I understand how Thomas feels. Anyway, that’s why you went to Harris Farm and got retaliated against, right?”
As the atmosphere turned favorable, Thomas put strength into his voice and said,
“Exactly. Dexter and I were practically lynched. The problem isn’t that we got cut by 30% this year.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“That this could keep happening from now on. Think about it. Adjusting the allocated volume is the chairman’s authority. From now on, Dexter and I will have no choice but to just take it helplessly, legally speaking.”
At those words, everyone’s faces visibly hardened. None of them were close to William Hartford, the chairman. They had all had awkward run-ins with him for one reason or another, so Thomas’s situation did not feel like someone else’s problem.
As if he had been waiting for this, Jim Ferguson spoke up.
“To be honest, I’ve thought about it for a long time, whether this is really right. Every year, whenever the allocation chart comes out, we have to read the room, be careful not to rub Hartford the wrong way... I can’t tell whether we’re farming or walking on eggshells. So, Thomas, what is it you want to do? The fact that you called us here so secretly, without even any drinks, makes me think you’re not just trying to complain.”
At Jim’s sharp observation, Thomas slowly looked around at the three of them. Having spoken with Chloe a few days earlier and laid out a rough strategy, he spoke as if there was no turning back.
“I’ll be honest. I don’t want to stay like this. I saw the grafting site at Harris Farm... and the answer was there. We can switch varieties and move into the Japanese market, too. But I can’t do it alone. We have to move together.”
Karl Meyer, wondering for a moment if he had heard wrong, asked,
“What? When you say move together, you don’t mean... leave the cooperative, do you?”
“Is that right?”
When he brought up something that implied leaving the cooperative, the inside of the barn fell silent again. Jim Ferguson let out an incredulous laugh.
“Haha... You want us to withdraw? Are you serious?”
“I’m serious.”
When Thomas nodded with unwavering eyes, Jim Ferguson stopped laughing as well. Then he asked,
“And after we withdraw?”
“We create a new cooperative.”
“Just us? With no power?”
“No. There’s someone suited to project that power on our behalf. Someone who can handle export contracts with Japan and other foreign markets for us, and pass on the know-how for switching varieties...”
Only then did the three realize whom he was referring to.
“Don’t tell me...”
“That’s right. Frederick and Chloe of Harris Farm. More precisely, we push Chloe forward as the new chairwoman. If it’s the Cherry Queen of Brentwood, there couldn’t be a better new chairwoman, could there?”
Just then, as everyone froze at his words—
Bzzzz...
Jim’s cell phone rang. Everyone’s gaze turned that way, and they naturally checked the caller’s name... It was William Hartford, the chairman.