Since morning, a guest had been in the study of William Hartford’s home, the head of the Cherry Growers Cooperative. It was the lawyer, Graham Foster. With a thick file of documents resting on his knees, he was looking at William Hartford.
The previous night, he had received urgent news that no fewer than five member farms had declared their withdrawal. He had stayed up all night combing through the cooperative bylaws and reviewing the California agricultural cooperative laws, and his eyes were bloodshot.
Graham opened the file and began to speak.
“I’ll give you the conclusion first. As matters stand, there is no way to stop the members from withdrawing.”
At the thunderbolt of a statement, William’s fingers froze on the table.
“What is that supposed to mean? No way to stop them? They’re my members!”
William flew into a rage, but Graham merely shrugged.
“It’s the Capper-Volstead Act. A federal law enacted in 1922, it fully protects the right of agricultural producers to form cooperatives and withdraw from them as an exception to antitrust law. Even if you create a clause in the cooperative bylaws restricting withdrawal, federal law takes precedence. If you take it to court, it will be dismissed.”
“So? You’re saying there’s absolutely nothing I can do?”
William snorted fiercely, as though he could not possibly vent his anger. Since his waist was already twice that of an average adult man, if he had horns he looked ready to charge into anything in sight.
“If they break away from the cooperative, it will surely be a loss for them as well. Won’t they come back to the cooperative sooner or later?”
Attorney Graham did not view the situation as gravely as William did. Perhaps because of that, he continued with a reluctant expression.
“Chairman, to be frank, I don’t think this situation is that fatal. The moment they leave the cooperative, practical problems will arise. You know better than I do, but large retailers like Costco or Walmart generally don’t enter into direct contracts with individual farms. They have minimum delivery volume standards and require a system guaranteeing uniform quality. Without the backing of the cooperative, can five individual farms meet those requirements?”
“It’s not that I don’t know that. But…”
“Moreover, the moment they withdraw, they will no longer be able to use the cooperative’s shared water channels. In Brentwood, you can’t farm without water. As far as I know, the farms of Jim Ferguson, Ray Coburn, and Carl Meyer depend on the shared channels. If you cut off the water channels, those three farms will have a hard time guaranteeing even this year’s harvest.”
Graham’s logic, that withdrawing from the cooperative was a foolish thing to do, made William’s eyes gleam.
“That’s it. Cut off the channels immediately!”
“Pardon? Understood, for now.”
Graham set down his bag and took out his cell phone. But after calling the county official and exchanging a few words, his expression gradually hardened. When the call ended, he put down his phone and spoke with a frown.
“…Chairman.”
“What?”
“Unfortunately, it’s already too late. All three farms have already filed applications with the county court for emergency livelihood well drilling. At the same time as giving official notice of their intent to withdraw, they filed preemptively on the grounds that the water channels were likely to be cut off. If the judge grants approval, even if you cut off the channels, they will already have secured their own independent water source.”
Bang!
William Hartford slammed the desk and began snorting fiercely again.
“Goddamn it! Then there’s nothing we can do, is there?”
“…”
“Who filed those applications?”
“They said it was Harry Montis.”
The moment he heard that name, Hartford closed his eyes for a moment. The Rainmaker, a lawyer whose nickname was known to everyone in Napa Valley. The very man who had overturned the blocking of the Harris farm’s sluice gate overnight before, then brought in a notice of health code violations and forced the cooperative to back down.
At that moment, everything made sense. This was not simply the departure of a few Brentwood cooperative members; someone had been setting the board from the very beginning. Chloe of the Harris farm. No, Brian Choi behind her.
“Haa…”
Seeing William utterly devastated, Attorney Graham asked cautiously.
“Is there anything else you need me to do?”
“That’s enough. Get out.”
At those words, Graham left the office with a bitter expression. Once the door closed and Hartford was left alone in the study, he stared out the window for a long while. Legally, he was blocked, and they had already beaten him to the water channels. The allocation chart had no meaning from the start for shipments that did not go through the cooperative.
But he still had one card left.
William Hartford picked up the phone.
It was late afternoon when Ray Coburn returned from Hartford Farm.
Hartford had welcomed him warmly. He served coffee, spoke with him for a long time, and at the end brought up two matters. If he withdrew, the cooperative’s distribution network would be permanently closed to him in the future, and starting next year, the allocation for Ray’s farm would be increased by 20 percent compared to last year.
It was a perfectly appropriate carrot and stick.
Two hundred eighty acres. Ray’s farm was the largest among the farms that had decided to withdraw this time, so from Hartford’s perspective, bringing Ray back was the most realistic move he could make right now. If Ray changed his mind, the others might be shaken as well.
Ray returned home and sat in his truck for a while without getting out. How many years had he spent running this enormous 280-acre farm alone? If Hartford’s distribution network was cut off, he would immediately be at a loss as to where to sell this year’s cherry harvest. The offer of a 20 percent increase next year was tempting too.
He picked up his cell phone and called Thomas.
“Thomas, I think I need to think this over a little more.”
Perhaps because the person he had believed to be a comrade who shared the same resolve had suddenly changed his words like this, silence flowed for a moment from the other end of the line.
“Ray, for now, everyone’s meeting tomorrow. Come. Don’t make a hasty decision first. Just put it off for one day. It’s only a day.”
“…All right.”
Ray, whose mind had been racing, decided to endure for just one day.
The next evening, people gathered in the warehouse on Ray Coburn’s farm. Jim, Carl, Dexter, and Thomas kept studying Ray’s face. Since they knew his mind had changed, he was the person they were most concerned about at today’s meeting. The fact that he had tossed and turned all night was written plainly beneath his eyes.
“To be honest, I don’t like Chairman William Hartford’s behavior either. But leaving the cooperative is… unsettling…”
Before Ray could even finish laying out his excuses with an apologetic face, the warehouse door opened and a young woman entered. Wearing a waterproof jacket, jeans, and a radio at her waist, the woman was Chloe Harris. Seeing her, Ray turned to Thomas.
“Chloe? Did Frederick come with you?”
When Ray looked startled, Thomas raised a hand as if to calm him and said,
“You all know her, right? Frederick’s daughter. But today, she’s not here as Frederick’s daughter. She’s here as the new cooperative president.”
“New cooperative president? Don’t tell me you people are thinking of withdrawing from the Brentwood Cherry Growers Cooperative and putting Chloe forward as the new president to stand against William?”
He raised his voice as though it were absurd, but Thomas and Dexter, who had led the initial withdrawal from the cooperative, merely shrugged as if to say, What does that matter? And as though she did not care about Ray’s reaction, Chloe took a seat and slowly looked around at the five of them. Then she quietly opened her mouth.
“Before coming here today, one of you met with Chairman Hartford, didn’t you?”
Ray stiffened slightly. It was unexpected that Chloe knew that.
“You don’t have to tell me. Of course you can waver. You spent decades under Chairman Hartford, so it isn’t easy to make a decision overnight. That’s why there’s something I want to tell you.”
Chloe took several documents from her bag and set them down on the table.
“In the capacity of the new cooperative, I’ve already sold all of this year’s harvest for you. To Japan, through Zen-Noh. Of course, if you don’t want to join the new cooperative, I’ll exclude that volume.”
In that instant, everyone’s eyes stopped on the documents. It was a forward contract. The names of the five farms were written on it, and beside them the quantities and unit prices were specified. One dollar and eighty cents per pound. It was higher than the unit price they had been receiving through the cooperative.
“One dollar eighty per pound?”
Even Thomas had not heard this, so everyone checked the contract in astonishment. The unit price at which their cherries had been sold through the existing cooperative averaged one dollar twenty per pound. It meant that simply by joining the new cooperative, their revenue would rise by 50 percent.
“This is impossible…”
“How is this even possible?”
When Dexter asked Chloe, she answered calmly.
“The volume going out through Japan’s Zen-Noh Group has to go through our hydrocooling equipment and MAP packaging system. That way, people in Japan can eat cherries as fresh as if they’d just been picked here. Naturally, they can pay a higher price in Japan.”
“How much do they sell cherries for in Japan…”
“I looked into it, and at Japanese department stores, gift sets of Bing cherries weighing one kilogram—about 2.2 pounds—are priced between 5,000 and 8,000 yen.”
“Ha…”
Even if wholesale prices were low, they were selling at one dollar twenty per pound, while distributors were selling 2.2 pounds for thirty to fifty dollars. Everyone let out incredulous laughs, dumbfounded. But Thomas soon came back to his senses and asked,
“Then all of this volume can go out through exports to Japan, right?”
“That’s right.”
“And it really is one dollar eighty per pound?”
“Yes. But since there will be equipment usage fees, even if it says one dollar eighty, the final unit price will be a little lower. Probably around one dollar sixty-five?”
Originally, out of the two dollars per pound, Redwood Holdings was to take twenty cents as a commission in the middle. That was why two dollars had become one dollar eighty. Redwood Holdings would earn over a million dollars simply by arranging the transaction in between.
“Even so, it can’t be compared to one dollar twenty.”
“That’s right.”
Chloe nodded, then looked at Ray Coburn’s bewildered face and asked,
“I heard you were reluctant to join the new cooperative. It’s a shame, but if you really don’t want to, I won’t force you. What will you do?”
Ray swallowed hard. But he soon faced reality and asked,
“What about the water channels? The drilling permits haven’t been issued yet, have they?”
“You know applications for emergency well-drilling permits for three farms have been submitted to the county court. In the names of Mr. Jim Ferguson, Mr. Ray Coburn, and Mr. Carl Meyer’s farms. And it’s none other than the Rainmaker, the one who got the well-drilling permit for our farm, who is moving on it. He says one week is enough for the approval to come through.”
Silence flowed through the warehouse for a moment. Ray, in particular, could not take his eyes off the documents. The relationship he had built under Hartford over several decades, his fear of the distribution network, the carrot of a 20 percent increase in next year’s allocation. All of it was losing meaning before this single sheet of paper. After all, a 50 percent increase in this year’s revenue was guaranteed right away.
Chloe looked at Ray and said,
“Uncle Ray, Chairman Hartford said he’d increase your allocation next year, didn’t he?”
“You knew?”
“I’m from Brentwood too. I was also a member of the Cherry Growers Cooperative. It’s not as if I don’t know how the chairman handles things.”
“Huh. Isn’t it too short a time for you to say you know William’s way of handling things that well?”
“You might think that because I haven’t been farming for long, but I’ve watched my father since I was little. There’s no way I wouldn’t know what he usually struggled with.”
“…”
“The unit price written in our contract is one dollar eighty, and even if he increases your allocation by 20 percent next year, it still won’t be enough to make up the difference in price. And is there any guarantee that promise will be kept next year? Was Mr. William Hartford really someone who could be trusted that much? I’m not so sure…”
At the words that struck the heart of the matter, Ray said nothing. That silence was as good as an answer.
Seeing that, Thomas quietly opened his mouth.
“Ray, I know it’s scary whether we stay like this or leave. But if we stay like this, we’ll be in the same place ten years from now. If we leave, at least things can change.”
In truth, from the moment he saw the contract, Ray’s mind had already shifted to some extent. He stared at the documents for a long while, then slowly lifted his head.
“…I just have to sign?”
Chloe took a pen from her bag and held it out, and Ray accepted it.
“But what are we going to call our cooperative?”
At Carl’s question, Thomas spoke as if he had been waiting.
“The Cherry Queen here is the president, isn’t she? Since she’s the Cherry Queen of Brentwood, how about Queenswood Growers Cooperative?”
Chloe felt her face burn, but she simply kept her mouth shut. It was embarrassing, but it also sounded nice.
The official withdrawal notices prepared by Harry Montis were signed that evening.
Six people. Thomas Cromwell, Dexter Price, Jim Ferguson, Ray Coburn, Carl Meyer, and Chloe Harris… The documents were sent the next morning to the Brentwood Cherry Growers Cooperative.
The secretary knocked on the door of Hartford’s study and entered.
“Chairman, the withdrawal notices have arrived.”
William Hartford took the documents and read down the names written in the signature section one by one. Thomas, Dexter, Jim, Carl, and even Ray.
It meant that even though he had met him last night and offered him a carrot, he had not turned back. Five out of fifteen cooperative members had left all at once. With these five alone, nearly 40 percent of the distribution volume would be gone. The allocation of shipments to Costco and Walmart would waver. And there was no telling when the remaining nine might waver as well.
He looked at the documents in his hand. The paper slowly crumpled.
“Cherry Queen, my ass…”
In his low mutter, anger was mixed, for the first time, with fear.