Beneath These Fields

by Ward Maia

  Ellis rushed to the bathroom and splashed cold water on his face, breathing hard.

  What the hell was he supposed to do with a coffee farm? What did he know about coffee in the first place? That he liked it black and with just one cube of sugar? That, because of the many late nights he pulled at the office, he usually drank what his assistant called “the strong stuff”? Other than that, his knowledge of coffee was close to zero.

  He had to sell the farm. Was actually planning to do that. It just didn’t fit into his life. What had his aunt been thinking?

  Did she even remember him? And if she did, it couldn’t be as anything other than the bumbling four-year-old toddler left behind when she ran away from family and duty, as his father put it. Back then he’d barely been able to string a coherent sentence together.

  What had she been thinking?

  A knock on the bedroom door snapped him out of his frantic musings. “Ellis? Are you in here?” Rudá’s voice asked from somewhere outside the bathroom.

  “Yeah,” Ellis squeaked and blushed. He cleared his throat, drying his face quickly with the hand towel hanging next to the sink. “Yes. Just a minute.”

  He exited the bathroom after taking a few breaths and waiting for his blush to somewhat fade. It was one of the disadvantages of having too-white skin. Not even his freckles camouflaged his blush. In fact, he suspected they actually intensified it, turning his face into a homing beacon of sorts whenever he got a little flushed.

  Which he almost never did, always making certain to wear a blank expression in front of his clients and not let any of their antics get to him.

  But ever since touching down in this state, he seemed unable to keep the blood from rushing to his face. Not only because it was hotter than Satan’s ass, but also because he felt off-kilter. Used to his predictable routine, being thrown into this foreign situation had him reeling, trying to grab on to something—anything—to steady him. Which might also account for why he felt so awkward all of a sudden.

  He’d hoped to have outgrown his less than graceful infant and teenage years, but apparently, being outside his comfort zone, in a less than conventional situation, had brought back his awkwardness and feelings of inadequacy.

  Or maybe it was just the too-handsome-to-be-real man standing just outside the bedroom he was assigned and smiling at him with his one stray dimple showing. Ellis straightened all his six-foot-one height and cleared his throat, willing his cheeks not to turn bright red just because.

  “Have you eaten today?” Rudá asked, his smile still firmly in place. “Our head cook is out visiting a friend in town and won’t be back until later, but I’m sure we can come up with something to eat between the two of us.”

  Ellis’s brain immediately jumped to not-so-safe suggestions, making blood rush to his face—yet again.

  “I ate,” he answered stiffly, pushing away the not at all innocent ideas of what they could come up with to eat between the two of them.

  Rudá’s smile didn’t falter. “Would you like a tour of the house, then? I’m done for the day, so I’m at your disposal.”

  Again, Ellis’s brain wanted to offer some unhelpful suggestions. Christ, he had to get a grip. He was tired and jet-lagged; that had to be it. While a tour of the house seemed appropriate, the last rays of sunshine were almost completely gone, casting the room into a kind of half gloom. The long hours of the day made the nap he took on the way to the farm seem like a million years ago. He stared furtively at the bed, wondering how to politely dismiss Rudá so he could get at least four hours of uninterrupted sleep.

  “You should get some rest.” Rudá’s voice softened a little. “I’ll show you around tomorrow.”

  Ellis frowned as Rudá took a step back, still smiling at him, but it had turned from a full-on grin into something softer. Ellis had many questions to ask him. Some were about the farm, but most were about his aunt.

  More specifically, they revolved around his aunt’s emotional stability, seeing as she left her farm to a complete stranger she hadn’t seen in over two decades. But he decided that his tired brain needed some more rest. Ellis nodded and forced himself to focus on Rudá’s face. “Thank you.”

  “Good night, Ellis.” Rudá pulled the door closed behind him as he left.

  Ellis took off his shoes and his pants and tumbled onto the bed, not bothering to pull back the covers. It was warm enough that he wouldn’t need them. His phone dinged just as he started to drift off. Groaning and cursing whatever entity was listening, Ellis crawled out of bed and reached for his pants pocket. It was a message from his assistant, Pedro.

  Pedro: How is the country life treating you boss? Don’t forget that you have a meeting with the estate lawyer tomorrow at 08:00.

  Ellis: I remember.

  Pedro: I also rented a car for you in town. It’s glorious and charming at the same time. It will be available tomorrow after your meeting. Here’s the address where you can pick it up.

  Ellis: Thanks, Pedro. I appreciate it.

  Pedro: Sure thing, boss man. Show them who’s boss. See you in a few days.

  He tossed the phone on the bed and rubbed his hand over his face. A million questions battled for attention in his head, all of them wanting to be answered first. He wondered how poorly it would reflect on his image if he hunted down a bottle of booze.

  Surely there had to be some around, right? He seriously considered it, but exhaustion made it painful to think, let alone try to figure out where his aunt had hidden the alcohol.

  Ellis closed his eyes and relaxed his muscles, letting his body melt into the too-soft bed.

  Chapter 3

  ELLIS WOKE a little confused. His brain still felt like it was coming down from a caffeine high—the irony, not lost on him—as he registered a weird sound.

  He rubbed his eyes and sat up, looking around. Was he hearing things now?

  The room was dark, but the pulled-back curtains allowed for some light to stream in. The sound came again and he frowned. Was that an insect? The windows were all closed, so it was probably coming from outside. Plus, he was on a farm. Weren’t random insect noises that woke you up in the middle of the night to be expected?

  Ellis stumbled to the bathroom, yawning and feeling uncomfortable, still wearing the shirt from the day before.

  The clock on the nightstand showed it was almost five o’clock in the morning, and judging by the orange glow starting to fill the room, the sun was just rising. He pulled off the rest of his clothes and, after a quick shower, left in search of breakfast.

  He heard the insect as he made his way to the door, but he still couldn’t identify it. Was it a cricket? He shook his head, pushing the thought aside.

  Farm. Insects.

  Right.

  Sounds from somewhere down a stairwell he hadn’t noticed the day before drew him. Also the mouthwatering scent of food and coffee. Coffee was something he was in dire need of. His stomach let out a low growl as he followed the voices and the scents.

  The house was just as beautiful inside as outside. The walls were painted white and hung with paintings, pictures of people he didn’t recognize posing in front of the house or between the rows of coffee stalks. There were also colorful bead necklaces, clay pots, and vases with geometric motifs, elaborately crafted blue and red feathered headdresses, carved wooden spears—that he hoped were only decorative and hadn’t ever actually been used—and woven straw baskets and mandalas that reflected the morning light almost as if they were spun with gold. The furniture was all made out of wood, and Ellis couldn’t help but run his hand over the polished smooth surface of a round side table next to a lush couch.

  A voice, loud and closer than he expected since he hadn’t heard anyone approaching, startled him.

  Ellis snapped up, stumbling and holding on to the side table that wobbled but thankfully didn’t fall. His face flushed, but he straightened himself, ready to face whoever had called him.

  A tiny woman who didn’t even reach his chest s
tood in front of a door he assumed led to the kitchen, since the sounds of pots banging and the smell of coffee brewing were coming from behind her. She wore a green dress with a white apron tied around her waist, and she had a wooden spoon clutched in one hand. Her skin was a lighter shade than Rudá’s, but she had similar almond-shaped brown eyes, which twinkled as she took him in. She clapped excitedly and launched into a full-blown speech, rushing toward him. Even though he couldn’t understand a single word she was saying, the grin that threatened to split her face in half was sweet.

  She walked toward him, brandishing the spoon in a way Ellis wasn’t sure was exactly friendly. He had the fleeting vision of having to pluck the wooden spoon from her hand in self-defense, and hold it above her head while she jumped and flailed, trying to recover her weapon.

  The woman stood in front of him and reached toward his face, still talking a mile a minute. She clutched his chin in her callused and surprisingly strong hand and turned his face to one side, then to the other. Then she reached farther up and touched the tip of his nose, her smile broadening as she spoke.

  “Um… sorry. I don’t understand you, I’m sorry.” Ellis offered what he hoped was an apologetic smile, but she kept on talking and nodding.

  Then she took his hand and pulled him toward one of the walls, gesturing to the framed pictures hanging there. Ellis looked around, searching for an escape route, but he glanced at the picture she was pointing at and froze. The picture was of a woman. A woman who looked a lot like him.

  She had the same strawberry-blonde hair and the same too-white skin. But while his freckles were mostly scattered on the bridge of his nose, hers were… everywhere. She wore a blue sundress, and even though her face was serious, there was a sparkle of mischief in her eyes. That was another difference between them. Ellis’s eyes were a steel gray while hers were the bluest he had ever seen. The lines around her eyes and mouth added character to her face, and her slightly rounded figure spoke of a good life.

  The tiny woman next to him tapped the picture and then reached up and tapped Ellis’s nose.

  Ellis nodded, understanding.

  The picture was clearly of his aunt, Meredith Campos. The woman next to him smiled, nodded, and spoke in a softer tone. A rush of unfamiliar emotions made his throat tight. He swallowed, forcing them down, and cleared his throat, not ready to deal with whatever unwanted thoughts and feelings were trying to swamp his brain.

  The woman gave him a few more heartbeats to study the picture, and then she tugged on his arm again and he let himself be pulled, his mind reeling a bit from the first picture of his aunt he’d ever seen.

  Back in Rio, there were no signs she even existed. After she ran away, they had acted as if she died or just never was.

  There was no evidence of her anywhere in the five houses the family owned.

  His mind was still stuck on how much like him she looked, as the tiny woman pulled him away from the picture and also away from the kitchen. Ellis pointed toward the kitchen, trying to pull his arm from the woman’s strong grip, but she just kept on tugging him forward and talking nonstop. He was about to try to argue some more, even though there was no hope of them understanding each other, when she stopped and gestured to a long wooden table. It was beautiful, with detailed carvings, but that wasn’t why he gaped at it.

  It was overflowing with food, from fruits, to cakes, to steaming piles of eggs and even sausage. There was enough food to feed a small army. He looked around, but other than the woman and him, there was no one else in what he assumed was the dining room. So why was there so much food?

  The tiny woman pulled him toward the table, and before he could offer any more protests, she pushed him into a chair. Then she loaded his plate with a bit of everything on the table.

  Ellis considered telling her he usually skipped breakfast, but she looked so happy, talking, smiling, and pointing at the foods. No one had ever looked so happy to feed him, not even his own mother. Ellis bit back a snort. Especially his mother. Ellis was willing to bet his first born that Isabel Campos had never even seen the inside of a kitchen, other than to give directions to the caterer.

  There was a metallic coffeepot that he hoped was filled with coffee. Ellis picked it up, and the tiny woman nodded vigorously and turned his coffee mug so he could pour into it. He picked up the mug and took a sip. Then he closed his eyes and made a small sound of contentment. The coffee was black and strong and slightly sweetened. Just enough to be drinkable, but not enough to mask the flavor. Delicious.

  He took another long drink, ignoring the slight burn as the liquid made its way down his throat. Another satisfied sound escaped him and he opened his eyes, not even realizing he’d closed them. Only to find Rudá leaning against the wall and smiling at him.

  “Hm. Those are the sounds I like to hear.”

  Ellis was midswallow and choked at the unexpected appearance. Thankfully, he managed to put down his mug before spilling it all over himself. But the damage was already done. He coughed and ducked his head, reaching for the napkin. The tiny woman clapped his back and said something, her voice getting louder. Ellis tried to wave her away, but she ignored him and kept rubbing and clapping his back.

  After a few excruciating minutes, he managed to get his breathing under control and stop coughing. He turned back to Rudá to see him looking sheepishly at him, leaning against one of the chairs across from Ellis.

  “Sorry,” Ellis said, his voice still rough from choking on the coffee.

  “No, I’m sorry.” Rudá pulled out the chair he was leaning on and sat down. “Didn’t mean to startle you.” His smile returned full force.

  Dimple.

  Ellis wasn’t exactly proud to realize he might have drooled a little bit.

  He cleared his throat and smiled at the woman, who was still rubbing his back. Rudá’s smile got even bigger when he turned his eyes to the tiny woman.

  “I see you met my grandmother, Nenna.” The woman smiled and said something to Rudá, placing one of her hands on her hips. “She says you need to eat more. You’re too skinny.”

  Ellis felt his already red face flush, and he cleared his throat again. “Hey! I’m not skinny. It’s just challenging, putting on weight.” Then he flushed even more when he noticed Rudá had cocked one eyebrow at him. “Um… yes, it’s… um… yeah. Thank her for me, please.”

  “He says thank you,” Rudá said to the tiny woman—Nenna—and she laughed, nodding and waving the wooden spoon, and kept on talking, gesturing at the food on the table and clapping Ellis on the shoulder. Then she turned around and left. Still talking.

  “She means well.” Rudá drew Ellis’s attention back to him “But she gets to be a little overbearing sometimes. She thinks we all need to eat more.” He shook his head, but there was a smile playing at his lips.

  “Oh, that’s….” He didn’t really know what that was, never having been treated like that. Their mother had delegated the responsibility of feeding her children to the help and the nutritionist she sent them to until they were eighteen. “Nice?” he finished lamely.

  “The dialect she spoke, it’s not Portuguese. Is it?” Ellis asked, genuinely curious to know why he hadn’t understood a single word Rudá’s grandmother had said.

  “No, she mostly speaks Borun. It’s the language of our tribe. Only women over forty are allowed to speak both Borun and Portuguese, so she mostly speaks the former. I just translate a little bit,” Rudá said.

  Ellis nodded in understanding.

  Rudá’s smile brightened as he nodded toward the mug Ellis was sipping again. “Do you like the coffee?”

  Ellis nodded. “I assume it’s local?”

  “Yes. Planted, picked, and roasted right here on the property. I’ll take you around the grounds after breakfast.” He took an apple and bit into it while pouring himself coffee.

  “I have a meeting with the estate lawyer this morning. In, um, town.” Ellis added the last part, unsure where town was or how he was supposed to
get there. His assistant had rented a car for him, but he had to pick it up. Also in town. He took a bite of fruit, enjoying its sweetness.

  Rudá studied him for a moment. Even though he wasn’t smiling anymore, his lips were still slightly curved upward at the edges, like he had a secret the rest of the world wasn’t privy to. The slight smirk on his lips reminded Ellis of his aunt’s picture and the twinkle of mischief in her eyes, shinning through her closed-off facade.

  Thinking about his aunt made the whole situation he found himself in come rushing back. It soured the food in his mouth. The fruit that had been sweet went down with the taste of ashes. Ellis took a big gulp of coffee and was disappointed that it had cooled off enough not to burn. The pain would have been a welcome distraction.

  “I’ll give you a lift,” Rudá said.

  Ellis thought about refusing. But really, what options did he have? “Thank you.”

  Rudá flashed him his signature smile and kept on eating while Ellis drank his now cool coffee.

  Chapter 4

  EVEN THOUGH it wasn’t his branch of law, Ellis knew when he was being played. The thin lawyer wiped sweat beads from his brow for the third time in less than five minutes. He was nervous. Probably because he was trying to give Ellis the runaround and was well aware he was failing.

  “I’m sorry.” Ellis took a deep breath and shifted on the too hot leather chair. “How long did you say it would take?”

  “Well, since we need to gather the deeds and some, um, other documents, I’d say about eight to ten days, at least.”

  Ellis forced down the sudden rush of annoyance. “So, about a week and a half?”

  “Yes,” the lawyer, Francisco, said. He wiped sweat from his brow again and gave Ellis a faint smile.