Beneath These Fields

by Ward Maia

  Rudá stood a few feet away, running one hand over his hair and staring at the ground. Ellis swallowed and forced himself to say something. They were both adults, and it had just been a kiss.

  He cleared his throat and did his best to get a grip. Rudá raised his eyes to Ellis’s face and stared at him unblinkingly.

  “We should get back.” Ellis slipped his hands into his pockets.

  “It’s still raining,” Rudá said.

  Ellis nodded. “We’re already soaked. Plus, I’m hungry.”

  Ellis turned to look at the rain. It was still pouring, but he didn’t really want to stay in the shed with the guy he just kissed. Because going down this road with Rudá would complicate things. But mostly because he didn’t know if he would be able to stop himself if they kissed again.

  Ellis squared his shoulders and stepped out into the downpour. He walked with quick measured steps toward the house, without waiting to see if he was being followed.

  Chapter 10

  ELLIS TOSSED and turned, trying to find a comfortable position. The too soft bed made it difficult.

  It also didn’t help that his mind kept going back to the kiss. Even now, hours later, he could still feel the press of Rudá’s lips against his.

  It was as if his mind was stuck on a loop designed to make him suffer. Ellis didn’t know what would be worse, constantly reliving that kiss or forgetting it altogether. Either way he was pretty sure it wouldn’t happen again.

  He should be thankful, actually; getting involved with Rudá would only add a layer of complication he really didn’t need.

  Ellis flopped onto his stomach and squeezed his eyes shut, forcing the memory of Rudá’s rough and slightly chapped lips from his mind.

  The insect he seemed to be sharing a room with made an earlier appearance and started to chirp away, taking with it the last vestiges of Ellis’s sleep.

  He huffed out a breath and sat up on the bed. If he were back in Rio, he’d dive into his work just as a distraction.

  Here, in the coffee farm and what was essentially the middle of nowhere, distractions weren’t as common as he’d like.

  Still, sitting here with nothing to occupy his mind while his thoughts slowly consumed his sanity was not an option in his book.

  Ellis got up and put on sweats and a loose sleeveless shirt. He’d roam the house and find something to do. Maybe even an empty room, since this one seemed to come with an unwanted roommate.

  He hesitated with his hand on the doorknob. The odds of running into anyone were slim. It was past midnight, and since everyone in this goddamn place woke before the sun, it was a safe bet that they were all asleep.

  Taking a deep breath, he twisted the doorknob and pocketed his phone.

  The halls were as empty as he anticipated. Some of the lights were on, which Ellis thought was weird at first but then remembered the size of the house. It was probably safer to leave some lights on, just in case someone had to skulk around the halls like a creepy creeper, in search of a distraction.

  Ellis chided himself. The farm was in his name, for fuck’s sake. It might not be his home, but he had a right to be here.

  The thought was a little alien and not as comforting as Ellis hoped it would be.

  He roamed the halls, his footsteps echoing off the walls, making him antsy. The occasional popping sounds the wooden frames emitted had him on edge and feeling very silly for being scared of his own shadow. Even if he was the only thing haunting the halls.

  Ellis had no destination in mind and wasn’t entirely surprised when his feet carried him to his aunt’s office.

  In the stillness of the dark, Ellis felt even more out of place between the books and documents that weren’t his to touch. Still, he forced himself to go inside.

  He stubbed his toe on the couch and hissed at the pain. He didn’t need to stumble around in the dark, but flooding the still room with the harsh fluorescent light seemed… wrong.

  So he made his way to the great wooden desk and clicked on the lamp resting on top of it. The warm yellow circle of light emanating from it cast the room in just enough light for him to make out the shapes of the couches on the other side of the desk and the bookshelves to his left.

  He considered opening the window to let in the night air but ultimately decided against it. Making a mess of Meredith’s office in the dead of night wasn’t what he wanted to do.

  Ellis traced the backs of some of the books, pulled a couple out and flipped through the pages. The half glow from the lamp wasn’t enough to read the words, but he traced the pages with his fingers.

  There were dark rounded stains on some of them, and he smiled at the thought of his aunt drinking coffee while reading and using the cup to hold the book open, causing the stain.

  It should’ve been sloppy and careless. To Ellis, it was a sign of the opposite. It spoke to him of love and a practical care for her things.

  He brought the book to his face and inhaled. It smelled like tobacco and, unsurprisingly, coffee. There was no feminine or flowery scent, like the ones he associated with his mother and sister. Or most of the women he knew, for that matter.

  No, his aunt smelled like the farm she seemed to have loved so much. Like her home. Ellis didn’t try to push away the confusing knot of emotions welling up inside of him.

  He let himself feel all the confusion and sorrow. The longing for… something he was too afraid to name.

  He put the book back in its place and moved along. There were other ledgers and invoices he could search—even if he knew the odds of finding any of the documents he needed so he could sell the farm and leave were slim to none.

  He couldn’t help the curiosity that drew him to them. He wanted to know more. About the farm and his aunt. Finding a diary would make his life easier. But from the little he knew of his aunt, she wasn’t the type of person to keep a diary or journal.

  If all he could have from her were her pragmatic and no-nonsense notes about the day-to-day activities of the coffee farm, then he’d take it.

  He gathered half a dozen ledgers and sat on the desk, making himself as comfortable as was possible without making a mess. Well, without making a bigger mess.

  An unknown amount of time later, Ellis found himself smiling at his aunt’s dry, sarcastic, and acerbic comments. From the snippets of thoughts scribbled in between invoices and payment schedules, the picture he had of a no-nonsense and hard woman solidified.

  He found that he liked her. Well, what little he could glean from her scrawled notes.

  He smiled again as he read one about the packaging suppliers:

  2000 thick packaging bags from Roberto (Remind that smartass that I do know the difference between 5 mil and 6 mil poly bags.)

  His smile only broadened as he read about the cooking staff.

  Pay Eliana for all the extra hours she clocked in the kitchen (buy more wine, the expensive type, to bribe her into making mandioca cake again).

  And on it went. The few personal comments weren’t common occurrences, and finding one felt like winning a prize. Maybe it was the late hour or the dark quiet of the house, but he felt like he uncovered a secret, another piece of a bigger puzzle, with every dry comment written by his aunt.

  He stacked the ledgers one on top of the other as he read. Lost between the numbers and words, it took him a while to realize the change in the entries.

  It was subtle at first but became more pronounced the more he read. Some ten years ago, the farm went through financial trouble. Ellis kept reading, flipping the pages. It became apparent that the situation was dire enough to put them in debt.

  He came across a comment that made his blood cold. There, on the bottom of a page with mostly red numbers, showing just how far in debt they’d become, two words made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

  DON’T SELL!

  That was it. Just two words. But it was enough to make him lean away from the ledger, as if putting space between himself and the words could erase how t
hey made him feel.

  They weren’t meant for him. Rationally he knew that. There was no way his aunt could have, ten years ago, predicted Ellis sitting at her desk, planning to sell the farm.

  No, she’d written the note for herself. Some reminder to keep her on track, no matter the hardships she faced. To keep her home, even if selling it would have been easier.

  Yet they hit him right on the spot he was trying to shield through all this mess. Ellis sighed and rested his head back on the chair, closing his eyes.

  The long day and late hour caught up to him all at once. Ellis rubbed his temples and eyes, trying to dispel the sleep and tiredness from his body.

  He closed the ledger, wanting to hide the words from his gaze. But they were still there, burned against his eyelids.

  Ellis pushed back from the desk and got up to pace the room. He went back to running his fingers over the spines of several books.

  He pulled one from the shelf, hoping the words inside could help him forget the ones he left closed on the desk. Something clattered to the floor, and Ellis found himself smiling as he bent down and picked up a pipe. An honest-to-God pipe.

  “You’re turning out to be more interesting than I thought, Auntie.” His smile slipped a little as the term of endearment left his lips.

  He took a deep breath and carried both the book and the pipe back to the desk. The curved wood was smooth under his fingers. He brought it his nose and was in no way surprised he recognized the strong scent of tobacco that seemed to permeate everything in her office.

  He opened the book and traced the title. It was a romance, about a clock tower and some sort of vengeful spirit that inhabited it. Trust his aunt to not be content to read a run-of-the-mill fluffy romance.

  He sat on his aunt’s leather chair without even realizing it. Before he’d thought of it as off-limits. If he was completely honest, it even intimidated him, though he couldn’t exactly say why. Maybe because he’d felt like a stranger, an intruder stepping into the sanctuary of another. But his body fit comfortably on the chair, and the feeling, while still there, was… diminished, softened.

  Ellis considered carrying the book and the pipe to one of the couches facing the desk, but discarded the thought almost as soon as it popped into his head. He inhaled deeply, filling his lungs with the scent of tobacco and coffee. Then he flipped to the first page and began to read, thumb tracing the curved, smooth surface of the pipe.

  A DELICIOUS and familiar scent tickled Ellis’s nose. He breathed in deeply and flexed his fingers.

  Ellis tried to shift and winced at the stiffness in his neck and back. He groaned and realized he’d fallen asleep on his aunt’s desk.

  He sat up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, and looked around. He did a double take, noticing a figure standing next to the desk he’d been drooling on not ten seconds ago.

  Rudá stood to his right, leaning on the desk with his hip. He had two mugs in his hand. Wordlessly, he offered one of them to Ellis.

  Ellis took it and tried to smile politely, but considering he probably had weird-looking grooves on his face from sleeping on a pile of books and ledgers, he in all likelihood missed the mark by a lot.

  “Good morning.” Rudá raised his mug in a salute.

  “Morning,” Ellis mumbled, taking a sip from the coffee.

  The strong flavor filled his mouth and cleared his head a bit. He closed his eyes and took a healthy gulp.

  The warmth flooded him and spread through his body. He sighed into the mug and felt Rudá’s stare on him.

  He glanced up and saw Rudá studying him. Ellis cleared his throat and sat up straighter on the chair.

  “What time is it?” he asked.

  “A little after eight,” Rudá said, taking a sip of his coffee.

  “Oh,” Ellis said, not knowing what else to say.

  He felt awkward and insecure. Which wasn’t something he was used to. Considering the guys he got involved with were usually gone in the morning, standing here with Rudá, who was trying to stare a hole in the side of his head, was uncharted territory.

  He forced himself to remember that they hadn’t even hooked up. It had just been one kiss. Besides, he was leaving in a few days. There was that. No need to feel awkward.

  “So, um… what are the plans for… today?” Ellis took another sip of his coffee.

  Rudá smiled and Ellis paused. It was a weird smile and filled with teeth. It was actually a little menacing.

  “Well, I did promise to put those hands of yours to work, didn’t I?” Rudá said.

  Ellis felt a pinprick of apprehension. Then a thought occurred to him. Was Rudá upset about Ellis walking out after their kiss? Was he maybe looking to get some payback?

  “O… kay?” Ellis said tentatively.

  Rudá’s smile widened, and Ellis had the brief thought that he’d probably regret what was about to happen.

  PUTTING HIS hands to work turned out to involve him picking coffee beans alongside the other workers. By hand.

  Ellis adjusted the straw hat on his head and huffed out a frustrated breath.

  That was another thing. Ellis had showered, and after quickly scarfing down breakfast—much to Dona Nenna’s irritation, who scolded him in that peculiar language only she was allowed to speak—he’d presented himself to Rudá, just as the other man requested.

  Only to be promptly laughed at and sent back to his room like a child to change into what Rudá called “appropriate clothes.” Which consisted of a long-sleeved shirt and a pair of his designer jeans.

  “Oh, and one more thing.” Rudá produced an enormous straw hat out of nowhere and plopped it on Ellis’s head.

  Too stunned to react, Ellis just stood there like an idiot. Rudá smiled and ushered him out to get started.

  The other workers, Ellis was informed as Rudá walked alongside him between the rows of coffee stalks, had started at six o’clock.

  Ellis could hear an electric buzz as they moved farther into the land. They walked for fifteen minutes before Ellis saw a couple of workers picking the coffee. Well, picking might not be the right word, because they were using the electric rake-type thing he’d seen in the shed the previous day.

  Images of Rudá kissing him back, the hot press of their bodies, and his tongue exploring Ellis’s mouth burst into his head. Ellis shook his head, trying to dispel the images, and forced himself to focus on what Rudá was saying.

  “…alongside Julian, so if you have any questions, he’ll help.” Rudá clapped one of the workers—Julian, Ellis assumed—on the back before moving farther down the row.

  The man using the rake-type thing smiled at Ellis, who smiled back. He was wearing earplugs—the electric rakes were very noisy—so Ellis had doubts as to how much of what Rudá had said Julian heard.

  “This is where you’ll work.” Rudá stopped in front of, to Ellis at least, a random coffee stalk. “Well, you’ll start here and then work your way down.” Rudá pointed to the right, and Ellis followed his hand.

  His eyes bulged as he followed the seemingly endless row of coffee stalks.

  “You do remember I’m a divorce attorney, right?” Ellis asked, adjusting the ridiculous straw hat. He wanted to rip it off and maybe stomp on it until it ceased to exist. But the glaring sun beating down on him had him believing that might not be the best idea.

  “Yep.” Rudá smiled obnoxiously at him. Ellis narrowed his eyes at the other man.

  He could just walk away. Turn on his heels and march right back to the main house and spend the rest of the day going over his aunt’s documents. No one would stop him.

  But there were things he still didn’t understand. Like why Meredith chose to stay here, even through the hardships and debt.

  DON’T SELL!

  The words echoed in his head, emotion welling up in his throat.

  He needed to understand why she stayed. Made this place her home. Why she left it all for him. For his own peace of mind.

  Those answers, he suspe
cted, he wouldn’t find in an office or in between invoices and old ledgers.

  “Ready?” Rudá cocked an eyebrow at him.

  He nodded, and Rudá’s smile shifted. It softened, and his familiar dimple caused a nervous flutter in Ellis’s stomach.

  Rudá spent the next half hour showing Ellis how to move around the net stretched along the space in between the rows of coffee stalks and how to pick the beans.

  It took a while, but Ellis eventually got the hang of it. His hands were slow and clumsy, unaccustomed to the thick gloves Rudá made him wear so his hands wouldn’t be left a bloody mess afterward.

  Rudá left him, much to Ellis’s panic and disappointment, claiming he had to run errands in town.

  The repetitive movements of holding the branches with one hand and pulling the beans with the other and the constant humming sound of the electrical rake-type thing—Ellis made a mental note to find out what it was actually called later—drowned out his thoughts. His mind wandered down random avenues, and he made no conscious effort to control them.

  He thought about his parents. His sister and their “home.” An image of the stark contrast the elegant and cold mansion they lived in with his aunt’s farm formed in his mind.

  He even allowed himself to admit that, if forced to choose between the two, the mansion wouldn’t be his first choice. Nor would his apartment.

  Lost in his thoughts, he started when a hand landed on his shoulder. He whirled around, the beans still in his hand flying everywhere. His feet got tangled in the net he was standing on, and the firm hand that grabbed his upper arm was the only thing that kept him from colliding with the hard ground.

  “Whoa, easy. Did you hurt yourself?” Julian asked, smiling.

  Ellis took a deep breath and tried to get his heart rate under control.

  “No, it’s okay.” Ellis gave the man a strained smile.

  “It’s lunchtime. Come on.” Julian shouldered the electric rake and walked toward where they’d come from.

  Ellis nodded, even though the other man had already turned his back to him, and followed.