Beneath These Fields

by Ward Maia

  Julian was a middle-aged man, with smile lines around his mouth and crinkling the corners of his eyes. He was also in extremely good shape. Ellis had to practically jog to keep up with his large steps.

  He led Ellis to a sort of clearing, where there were other workers gathered in a circle. Ellis hesitated. Not because he didn’t want to sit with them, but because he was a stranger and didn’t want to intrude on their private time.

  But Julian pulled him along, and Ellis sat next to him, eyeing the other people nervously. Some looked at him with open curiosity while others smiled politely.

  The conversation faltered and was a little stilted but picked up after a few minutes. Which was about the same time Ellis realized something was missing.

  “You didn’t bring lunch?” Julian eyed Ellis with amusement.

  “Um….” Ellis shifted uncomfortably where he sat.

  Julian and a few others laughed, shaking their heads.

  “Here, city boy,” one of the women—Melinda? Melissa? He wasn’t sure—held out what looked like half her sandwich.

  “Oh, no. I can’t accept. I’ll eat something later.” Ellis smiled politely at her.

  “We’ll all eat later. Take it, city boy,” she insisted, smiling at him.

  Ellis’s heart warmed at her gesture. He accepted the sandwich and took a bite. It was tuna, and Ellis smiled at her around a mouthful.

  The conversation resumed as they ate. Ellis learned about them and about their families. He also found himself asking a few questions about the farm and the harvest.

  When lunch was over, Ellis got up and groaned. He stretched his back, and Julian laughed.

  “The first day always leaves you feeling like dying,” he said as they walked back to the rows they were picking.

  Ellis nodded and put the thick gloves back on. His fingers ached and his hands hurt, but he went back to work. The air filled with the distant and close sound of the other workers picking the coffee beans.

  Sweat trickled down… well, everything as he worked. Once more the repetitive motion allowed his brain to float away and travel through memories and thoughts.

  Chapter 11

  EVERYTHING ACHED. Ellis walked the last few steps toward the house behind Julian and a few other workers. His steps were slow and measured. But alongside the pain, there was a sense of calmness.

  He paused and gaped at the front of the house. Someone had completely transformed the patio. Amidst the grass and rocks stood several long tables covered with more food than Ellis was sure he’d ever seen in his life.

  Dona Nenna flitted from table to table, sitting everyone down and fussing over them as she served plates of food.

  Ellis’s stomach grumbled loudly, but he hesitated. He didn’t know what was happening. He understood there was food and people were being served, but it seemed to be a celebration. And he didn’t want to interrupt or intrude.

  There was no room for him amidst the conversation and laughter. He took a step back, his body bumping against someone. He turned around to apologize, but the words died in his throat.

  Rudá stood behind him, smiling. Not at him, his attention focused on the tables and the mountains of food Dona Nenna served.

  He scanned the area, his smile softening, before his attention focused on Ellis.

  “Not hungry?” Rudá tilted his chin toward the tables.

  “No,” Ellis said at the same time his stomach gave a loud rumble. He blushed and cleared his throat.

  “Come on. My grandmother will never forgive me if I let you go to bed without having dinner again.” Rudá took a step toward the tables, but Ellis stayed put.

  He lifted his fingers and tried to curl them, but they were stiff and the movements sluggish. He grimaced at the ache as he tried to curl them again. How was he supposed to eat if he couldn’t even close his fingers?

  Ellis looked up and found the other man frowning and studying him. Then Rudá nodded and gestured for Ellis to follow him.

  They walked up the steps, into the house, and away from the tables and the food. Even though his hands hurt—along with the rest of him—Ellis felt a twinge of disappointment at leaving the food behind.

  Rudá led him to the same bench they’d sat on two nights ago while he told Ellis how he’d met Meredith.

  “I’ll be right back. Just wait here,” Rudá said and hurried into the house.

  Ellis slumped on the bench, the hard wood more comfort than he’d had all day. Every part of him was sore and hurt. Muscles he hadn’t even known existed were stiff and making him miserable.

  He also had a pounding headache. Probably from the lack of food and water. Also from spending all day underneath the harsh sun, sweating the equivalent of his body weight out of his pores.

  He grimaced as he shifted on the bench, trying to find a more comfortable position. His designer jeans were ruined, stained with grass and earth. They clung to his body, and he wanted nothing more than to strip and spend the rest of the night floating in a warm bathtub.

  Rudá came back shortly and sat on the bench next to Ellis. He turned his body to face him and pointed at Ellis’s hands.

  Frowning and not really understanding, Ellis extended one of his hands toward Rudá.

  Rudá opened a green bottle Ellis hadn’t noticed and dumped a cool gel on Ellis’s palm. Then he pressed his thumbs against the spot and started to massage.

  The initial pressure of Rudá’s fingers on Ellis’s hand made Ellis wince and pull back.

  “Give it a minute,” Rudá chided him, pulling his hand back toward him and massaging harder.

  The gel smelled like peppermint and some other herbs he couldn’t identify. It also cooled his flesh and eased the ache. Even if Ellis wasn’t ready to admit that.

  He let out a soft groan as Rudá massaged his other hand, giving it the same attention he had the first one.

  Rudá chuckled, and Ellis pulled back his hand slightly in annoyance. The other man just shook his head and pulled it farther onto his lap.

  Ellis closed his eyes and let his head fall forward. The sound of animated conversation and laughter floating up to them from the patio lulled Ellis into a sense of peace and… acceptance? No, that wasn’t right.

  Belonging. Yeah, that was it.

  A few days ago, the thought would’ve made him uncomfortable and antsy. He’d be halfway to his aunt’s office, rummaging through things to try to find a way to leave all of this behind.

  Maybe it was because he was too tired from working in the fields all day—something he thought he’d never be able to claim—or maybe he’d just gotten used to the farm and its people. Whatever the reason, the thought sat comfortably in his chest and made him feel settled. At ease.

  “Your aunt did this for me,” Rudá said.

  Ellis eyed him through his lashes, without lifting his head.

  “The first summer I worked picking the beans. She made me wait until I graduated high school.” A wistful smile curved his lips as he focused on massaging Ellis’s hand. “After the first week, I could barely stand, let alone walk. I swore I’d never do it again.”

  “What changed your mind?” Ellis couldn’t help but ask.

  “Meredith told me the pain would pass and the experience would remain.” Rudá snorted and shook his head. “I called her corny, and she smacked me upside the head.”

  Ellis smiled because that sounded like his aunt. Excited chatter followed a loud bark that came from the patio and filled the evening. Ellis took a deep breath and let it out. The delicious scent of food mingled with the already familiar earthy scent of the farm was achingly welcome. He unconsciously curled his fingers around Rudá’s.

  The other man paused in his ministrations and, after a brief hesitation, held Ellis’s hand.

  They sat like that for a long time, just listening to the conversation floating up to where they sat. Rudá’s name drifted up to them, and Ellis turned to look down at the tables set up on the patio.

  “Can I ask you what yo
ur name means?” Ellis turned to look back at Rudá.

  “Acatauassú is my father’s last name.” Rudá smiled at Ellis.

  “Acata-aca… sorry, I can’t pronounce it.”

  “Acatauassú,” Rudá said. Ellis repeated the name three more times, though he suspected he would never be able to pronounce it properly.

  “And Rudá? Does it mean anything?” Ellis asked.

  A sad smile crossed his lips, and he looked away, out into the darkening fields. “My mother gave me that name. It means ‘love deity,’” he murmured.

  “Really?” Ellis raised an eyebrow.

  Rudá smirked at him. It faded quickly, the sad smile taking its place again.

  Ellis waited in silence for him to say more.

  “She died giving birth to my sister,” Rudá said softly.

  Ellis couldn’t help but feel sad for him. His own relationship with his mother wasn’t that great—hell, it wasn’t even good—but he didn’t know what it was like growing up without one.

  “She still blames herself. My sister,” he clarified. “My father isn’t the most nurturing soul, and he struggled to raise us.”

  “You didn’t have help?” Ellis asked.

  “We did. People in the reservation help each other. There are so few of us left that if we don’t, pretty soon we’ll be nothing more than a distant memory.”

  Ellis nodded, wanting Rudá to keep speaking. He wanted to know more about the man who had left his home at such an early age.

  “I wanted to give my sister a better life. That’s why I left. Even though I was terrified and so used to rejecting anything from outside the reservation, like the rest of the people there,” Rudá explained. He looked back at Ellis, and Ellis saw a multitude of emotions flash across his eyes.

  Sorrow and hope and fear. Maybe he was afraid for the future or that he hadn’t done more in the past. Ellis didn’t know enough to say for certain.

  Ellis turned away from the maelstrom of emotions on Rudá’s face and scanned the patio below them. People talked and gestured, laughing and joking. It was a stark contrast to the mood of the man sitting next to him.

  “Do you miss it? Your home?” Ellis clarified, scanning the happy faces of the workers having dinner on the patio.

  Rudá was silent for so long that Ellis thought he wouldn’t answer.

  “I go back every few months, but of course I miss the reservation. But it’s not my home. Well, not anymore. This place—” Out of the corner of his eye, Ellis saw Rudá gesture toward the fields as he spoke. “This is more home to me than the reservation ever was.”

  Ellis turned to look at Rudá and found the other man studying him. Except he looked… frustrated. Or upset with something. Rudá pursed his lips and took a deep breath, as if bracing himself to say something. A horn honked continuously, cutting Ellis off as he opened his mouth to speak.

  Their attention turned toward the road that led to the house. Even the conversation on the patio stopped.

  A compact silver car skidded to a halt, kicking up a cloud of dust. Rudá cursed softly under his breath and shook his head, letting out a long-suffering exhale.

  A colorful blur exited the car to the cheers and laughter of the people on the patio. The girl, or at least Ellis assumed it was a girl, rushed to the tables and scooped Dona Nenna up into a tight hug.

  “That’s Inaiê.” Rudá tilted his chin toward the girl who was now talking animatedly with some of the workers. “My sister.”

  He shook his head and did his best to look annoyed, but Ellis could hear the undertones of fondness when he spoke. Something tugged at his heart. He also couldn’t help but feel a little guilty, because he was sure he’d never spoken about his own sister with that much fondness.

  “Where’s my brother?” Ellis heard the girl ask.

  Someone answered, but he couldn’t identify the voice. Her head snapped toward the porch, and then the colorful blur that was apparently Rudá’s sister stomped up the stairs.

  Ellis felt uncharacteristically nervous. He didn’t know why. He was no stranger to meeting people, but this felt more significant somehow.

  “Hi,” Inaiê said brightly, extending her hand toward Ellis once she stood in front of him. “I’m Inaiê, but you can call me Ina.”

  Ellis stared at her, dumbfounded, for longer than was polite. He couldn’t help it. She was tall and made up of skinny long limbs, with black hair she apparently tried to tame in a messy bun. Without much success. Even in the half glow of the evening, Ellis could see just how much like Rudá she looked. But the most striking thing about her was her clothes. She was wearing a bright and colorful green dress, with big yellow and orange flowers covering almost its entire surface.

  Rudá cleared his throat, and Ellis realized he’d just been staring stupidly at her.

  “Hi, um, I’m Ellis. Ellis Campos.” Ellis extended his hand to shake hers and realized his fingers still curled around Rudá’s. He blushed and tried to discreetly pull his hand back, but it did not go unnoticed, and Ina followed the movement with a raised eyebrow.

  Blushing violently, Ellis stood with some difficulty and shook her hand. He was painfully aware of his dirty and stained clothes and all-around disheveled appearance. Not to mention he smelled exactly as he expected someone who’d spent all day working under the sun to smell.

  Ina ran her eyes over him and gave a curt nod, as if she approved. Then she turned toward Rudá, who lifted her off the ground into a crushing hug.

  Their laughter mingled as they greeted each other animatedly. Ellis shifted from foot to foot, feeling like an intruder. He skirted the edge of the porch, trying to stealthily sneak into the house but failing.

  “You wouldn’t be trying to escape, would you, Mr. Campos?” Ina asked, one hand on her hip.

  She looked so similar to Dona Nenna whenever she scolded Ellis for missing a meal that he couldn’t help but smile.

  “I need a shower,” Ellis said, feeling self-conscious.

  “We’ll wait for you,” Rudá said, tilting his head toward the house. Ellis nodded jerkily and pretended not to notice the surprised look Ina shot her brother as he hurried to his room.

  “HOW ARE you enjoying our farm, Mr. Campos?” Ina asked, sipping her wine.

  “The land is very beautiful.” He nodded politely.

  “It is,” she said and smiled enigmatically at him.

  Ellis took a drink of his own glass of wine, mostly to keep himself busy.

  Almost all the workers were gone. After they had dinner, they left to go back to their homes. Dona Nenna, unsurprisingly, berated Ellis for forgetting to pack lunch and for taking too long to sit down to have dinner.

  Ellis just smiled and kissed the top of her head, which, if the big grin dancing across her face was any indication, made her happy.

  Now he sat with Rudá and Ina, along with the few workers that stayed behind to appreciate Dona Nenna’s fine cooking and wine.

  “The farm has a multitude of hidden gems, wouldn’t you say, Mr. Campos?” Ina asked, that same odd enigmatic smile playing on her lips.

  Rudá choked on the wine he was sipping and shot Ina a glare. Dona Nenna said something in Borun to Ina. Even though Ellis didn’t understand, the tone of her voice left no doubt that it was chastising.

  “Call me Ellis, please.” Ellis felt oddly left out of the conversation—verbal or otherwise.

  “Ellis.” Ina made his name sound like a threat.

  Which made no sense. Nerves made Ellis reach for his wineglass and drain it, barely tasting its sweetness.

  “So, how’s the city life treating you, Ina?” Julian asked, drawing Ina’s attention away from Ellis, for which he was very grateful.

  He scanned the table for the wine bottle, hoping for a refill, and his eyes landed on a bottle of sugarcane liquor.

  Bingo.

  He usually shied away from hard liquor, but his sore and tired muscles could really use the break from reality alcohol would bring. He also felt Ina would
be more sympathetic if he was a little drunk.

  The conversation picked up and Ellis was blissfully forgotten. For a while at least. He was well into his second shot when Ina turned her sharklike focus back on Ellis.

  “Rudá tells me you helped in the fields today.” Ina sipped her wine.

  “Yes,” Ellis said and hoped the short answer would discourage her. No such luck.

  “What did you think?” she asked.

  “It was exhausting,” he admitted.

  “But rewarding, right? There’s something about picking the coffee beans you spent so long nurturing, isn’t there?” she asked.

  Ellis hesitated. He wanted to say yes, but it would be nothing more than a polite answer. Because he didn’t know. He’d never spent any time nurturing the coffee stalks and only one day picking the beans. Which might be the point Ina was trying to make. But the strong alcohol was making his brain fuzzy, so he wasn’t sure.

  “A lot of people work these fields and depend on the harvest to support their families,” Ina said, eyes flashing at Ellis.

  “Ina,” Rudá warned in a low voice, but she ignored him.

  “And you want to sell the farm? Even though you’d be robbing all these people of their jobs? The ones they depend on to feed their families?” She gripped the wineglass with more strength than was probably necessary.

  “Ina, stop,” Rudá warned again, his voice even but harsh.

  Ellis just stared at her and blinked, his sluggish and slightly inebriated brain trying to come up with something to say.

  “I won’t stop. He needs to hear this, and since I doubt anyone’s said this to him, I will.” She turned back to Ellis. “Do you know what’s in this farm? Actually in it? Do you have any idea what’s going to happen to this whole region when you sell the farm? Do you know what’s going to happen when they find the—”

  “That’s enough!” Rudá shouted, banging one fist against the table, making the glasses jump and clink against the wooden surface.

  Silence followed his outburst.

  Ina fumed, dark eyes fixed on the plate in front of her. Her nostrils flared, and her chest heaved with every angry breath she took.