Beneath These Fields

by Ward Maia

  Ellis nodded, even though he had no hope of ever understanding that. To him, a place was just that: a place. Four walls, glass, and random appliances made a house, a place to sleep after a long grueling day at the office. Acres of green in a foreign faraway city did not change that.

  To Ellis this was just another place. A place he didn’t even want to be. He couldn’t help the curiosity gnawing away inside of him. He wanted to know about Meredith Campos. His aunt. The woman he heard close to nothing about throughout his life but who had, for some reason, still seen fit to leave her home to him. Even if she’d never managed to contact him. And if he went by the ledgers in her office, that had not been for lack of trying.

  The reminder of the ledgers tucked safely away, in what was temporarily his room, settled in his stomach like an ice block.

  “Did she… did she ever….” Ellis opened and closed his mouth, trying to form the question making his brain itch. But his voice faltered. He wanted to know if she ever really tried to contact him or his sister throughout the years. If that was the case, why she’d gone through his father. Why she never tried to contact them directly.

  He tried to voice the question one more time but just couldn’t. Ellis didn’t know what he was more afraid of: Rudá saying he was an idiot for reading too much into a few initials scribbled on the top of old business ledgers or confirming his suspicions that, yes, Meredith Campos had actually tried to contact him and his sister throughout the years and his own father had blocked any communication. For whatever fucking reason.

  A distant sound, like a bell ringing, came from inside the house. Rudá straightened himself and got up, pocketing the lighter and cigarette pack.

  “Food is ready,” he said and walked off the porch without a backward glance at Ellis.

  Ellis sat on the porch for a few more minutes, just enjoying the quiet and the breeze. Then he got up and followed the other man inside.

  After dinner, Ellis retreated to his room and lay in bed, studying the ceiling. He mulled the events of the day over. He read the notes on each ledger repeatedly. Had even gone as far as searching all the other dates to make sure he hadn’t missed anything. To his disappointment, there were no other notes. At least not relating to him or his sister.

  Ellis would go back to Meredith’s office tomorrow and keep looking for the documents. They had to be somewhere. The sooner he found them, the sooner he could get rid of this place and go back to Rio. The thought rattled something inside of him. Something that hadn’t been there yesterday.

  Thinking of this place as just a physical location Meredith Campos escaped to after abandoning her responsibilities was easier before he came to the farm. Today he’d walked around the property, and while he still hadn’t seen all there was to it, it made the farm seem more real to him. More alive. He also learned about his aunt, his family. And found the notes.

  Ellis had hoped it would make things easier. Maybe if he knew more about Meredith, he could understand why she left him this farm. Her home. The tidbits of information Rudá had shared with him only left him more confused and with even more questions.

  Ellis sighed and rubbed his face, turning on the bed. The softness of the mattress was uncomfortable and made him feel antsy. He didn’t want comfort. He wanted answers. To be rid of this place.

  Rio might not be home, at least not in the way Rudá talked about his, but it was familiar ground. A place he could retreat to and lick his wounds at the end of the day.

  Ellis grabbed the pillow under his head and threw it across the room, lying on his back. All these questions had him making animal metaphors for himself.

  Fuck.

  Ellis closed his eyes and forced his mind to relax. Tomorrow he would call the lawyer again. He’d get some answers and, hopefully, be one step closer to leaving this place.

  Tomorrow.

  Chapter 8

  “I ALREADY sent the request to the other counties,” Francisco said, his wheezy voice grating on Ellis’s ears.

  “And how long will that take?” Ellis forced the question through gritted teeth. A sudden appreciation for all the people he ever jerked around and stalled bloomed in his heart, but he pushed it down. Sympathy would get him nowhere in this scenario.

  “Well, our country is a little more on the bureaucratic side, so, um, the normal wait period is about thirty to forty-five days, but—”

  “I’m sorry,” Ellis interrupted him. “Did you say forty-five days?”

  “Usually yes, but I’ve pulled some strings, and the documents should be here in about eight days,” the lawyer added hastily.

  If there was even the slightest doubt that he was being played, it was now gone. There was no way that he would be able to shrink a waiting period of thirty to forty-five days to only eight. Ellis had worked long enough with documents and notary offices to know that. To pull that off, Francisco needed very good connections. Maybe he had them, but Ellis doubted it.

  “I could go to those counties and get the documents in person. The farm is in my name, isn’t it?”

  “Well, technically yes, but you see, I need those documents to officially place the property in your name, so even if you were to go to these very faraway counties, you can’t get the documents. Not yet, at least,” the lawyer said, his voice faltering and rising, a surefire sign that he was lying through his thin mustache.

  There was a pause where Ellis just listened to the other man breathing over the phone. Angry thoughts circled his head, and he wanted to scream.

  Sweat was running down his back, and it wasn’t even eight o’clock in the morning. It was shaping up to be yet another sweltering day. Fan-fucking-tastic.

  “Eight days,” Ellis said in a flat voice.

  It wasn’t really a question, but Francisco answered it anyway.

  “Eight to ten days,” he said, in that wheezy voice of his.

  “Okay. I’ll call you later.” Ellis ended the call without waiting to see if there would be a response.

  He stared out the window and sighed, rubbing his temple. There was a knock on the door. Ellis spun around to see Rudá standing in the doorway, hands in his pockets. He also wore his trademark dimpled smile.

  Ellis had to admit that, as views went, he wasn’t so bad.

  “Bad news?” He nodded toward the phone still in Ellis’s hand.

  “Nothing I didn’t expect,” Ellis said honestly but forced a smile.

  “Okay, well, are you ready?” Rudá asked.

  “Ready?” Ellis stared at him with no small amount of apprehension. Had they made arrangements Ellis forgot about?

  Doubtful, since the previous night Rudá had looked two steps away from maybe knocking some manners into him. Ellis was surprised he was even talking to him.

  “For the tour.” Rudá tilted his head and studied Ellis’s face.

  Ellis wondered what he was looking for. Maybe a hint of the woman he’d lost? Meredith’s bond to Rudá wasn’t one of blood, but she was more family to Rudá than Ellis’s own sister was to him.

  He also wondered how lacking Rudá found him to be. Because even though they were strangers, Ellis was sure Rudá knew enough to be fully aware he was nothing like the woman who had left him her home.

  “Of the farm.” Ellis nodded. He remembered Rudá saying something about that yesterday.

  “No, not today. We’ll leave that for when the harvest starts. Maybe I’ll put those hands of yours to work.” Ellis raised an eyebrow in question, and Rudá just smiled.

  Ellis wondered if Rudá planned the words before they left his mouth or of they just happened to sound a bit dirty on accident.

  Judging by the mischievous smile playing on his lips, Ellis suspected it was in no way an accident.

  It was probably just another tactic to convince him not to sell the land. Seduce the city boy and guilt him into not selling. Maybe even blackmail. Ellis knew that was probably it. Yet he couldn’t help but be a little flattered to be on the receiving end of his attentions.

&n
bsp; “So where are you taking me today?” Ellis crossed his arms over his chest, determined not to let Rudá’s dimple or crooked bottom teeth—that only added to his charm—sway him.

  “Into town. Seeing as you’ll apparently be staying here for a few more days, I figured I’d take you sightseeing,” Rudá said, his smile never faltering.

  Ellis nodded and gestured for the other man to lead the way. He followed, pocketing his phone.

  The house was still the same as it had been two days ago, when Ellis first walked its halls. But every time he looked around, he discovered something new. A painting he hadn’t noticed yet. A picture of a blurry figure tilling coffee beans.

  He made a mental note to have a look around when he had some downtime. He figured there might be a few hidden gems here and there he’d like to keep after selling the farm.

  Rudá greeted the few employees they crossed paths with, and Ellis followed suit. He was a grade-A asshole when he wanted to be, but he usually made sure he was polite about it.

  “Oh, Seu Jorge picked up your car last night.” Rudá looked over his shoulder at Ellis as they descended the stairs to the patio. “It’s, um, a… you chose a nice car.”

  Ellis heard the amusement in Rudá’s voice and couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped him.

  “My assistant picked that monstrosity for me,” he informed Rudá’s back.

  “This would be the same assistant that called you yesterday?” Rudá asked. His tone was light and casual, but it put Ellis on edge.

  There was no logical reason why it should. Pedro wasn’t a secret, and Rudá’s question was innocent enough.

  “Yes, that would be him. He says I’m a farmer now, so I have to look the part. Starting with the oversized truck.” Ellis patted the hood of said truck as they passed it. Rudá chuckled and kept walking toward the black truck Ellis was already familiar with. “To tell you the truth, I think he’s still upset I refused to teach his wife my secret blowjob technique at the last Christmas party.”

  There was a moment of silence, and then Rudá threw back his head and laughed. It was a full belly laugh, and Ellis stopped in his tracks to just listen to it.

  Some laughs are small and pleasant, and some laughs fill a room, demanding attention. Rudá’s laugh wasn’t either of those. Ellis had no doubt it could fill a room, but it would be stifled and diminished if contained within four walls. No, Rudá’s laugh was made for the outdoors. For the rolling hills and open spaces of the farm.

  It was right at home here, and Ellis felt a smile tug on his lips, despite his best efforts to tamp it down.

  “I’m curious as to what your secret technique involves.” Rudá chuckled as he opened the passenger door for Ellis.

  “It’s a patented secret,” Ellis said, making himself comfortable inside the old car.

  “Guess I’ll just have to find out the usual way, then,” he said.

  Rudá closed the door before Ellis could react or respond.

  THE CITY was small and more normal than Ellis had anticipated. There were buildings and houses just like in any other town. Ellis wasn’t really sure what he had expected, but it wasn’t this… normalcy.

  It seemed far too average for something that was causing him such a headache. Granted, it wasn’t the town’s fault. Not directly. Still, Ellis felt like maybe it was, in part. By association.

  He squinted at the stores from behind his glasses and tried to ignore the sweat running down his back, plastering his shirt to his body.

  There were historical buildings sprinkled here and there in between the modern houses and offices. Neo-Gothic churches and houses with the same colonial architectural design as his coffee farm.

  The thought made him stop dead in his tracks.

  No, not his. His aunt’s—Meredith Campos’s—farm. Her farm. Her house. Not his.

  Rudá walked a few steps ahead of him before realizing Ellis wasn’t following him. He paused and turned back, frowning at seeing Ellis standing stock-still in the middle of the sidewalk.

  “Everything okay?” Rudá walked back toward Ellis and stopped in front of him.

  Ellis adjusted his oversized aviator glasses—also a gift from his assistant (he was beginning to think Pedro had a size fetish or was maybe trying to hint something to Ellis)—and nodded, swallowing thickly.

  They resumed walking, Ellis and Rudá side by side while Rudá explained about the city, its history and architecture. Ellis listened, mostly for a distraction from his wayward thoughts, but also surprising himself with how curious he actually was to learn more about the town named after heart-shaped river bends.

  “Is that really why it’s called Three Hearts? Because of the river bends?” Ellis asked as they stood next to a metal plaque with three hearts stacked on top of one another—two on the bottom and one on top.

  “It’s one of the versions. That the town is named after the rounded river bends in the Rio Verde that resemble hearts,” Rudá said.

  “What are the other versions?” Ellis asked, curious.

  He pushed up his sleeves and winced at the hot feeling of his own skin. He tried to keep the sleeves down so the sun wouldn’t cook him, but the overwhelming heat made it impossible. He’d given in about ten minutes into their walk, folding the sleeves over his elbows.

  He also resigned himself to uneven tan lines. After the burned layers peeled away, that is. He internally sighed and cursed his lack of foresight. He hadn’t even thought of putting suntan lotion on or choosing a more appropriate shirt. Normally, he had Pedro buzzing around him, reminding Ellis of all the essential little details his overworked brain tended to neglect. No wonder everyone assumed Pedro was his boyfriend.

  Rudá grinned at him, but it was a little subdued. He looked almost sad.

  “The other version is about three native women—Jacira, Jussara, and Moema—who fell in love with three farmers who came from out of town. Who eventually left and broke their hearts,” Rudá said.

  Ellis nodded as if he understood. He didn’t. Ellis had never been in love, and his only knowledge of heartbreak came from his family. He had very little experience with romance or romantic love, for that matter.

  Rudá studied his expression for a moment before he smiled at Ellis and resumed their walk.

  Ellis moved a little stiffly, the heat making his thoughts sluggish, and Rudá’s words kept rolling over him, making him drowsy.

  The bug that woke him up many times in the night also might have something to do with how distracted and tired he was.

  It was strange. Back in Rio, he could work nonstop for days. Could even go more than two nights without sleep and power through it. Strangely, ever since arriving at the coffee farm, his mind fell faster into exhaustion.

  Shade would help. Ellis eyed the gazebo in the middle of the park longingly. To his disappointment, the sun glared down at them at an angle and there was no shade to be found. Not even inside the wooden structure.

  He sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. He wasn’t paying attention to where he was going and was more than a little surprised when he walked into Rudá, face smashing against the back of the other man’s head.

  “Wha—” he began to ask, but cut himself off as Rudá made the sign of the cross.

  But it wasn’t out of fear. No, it was out of respect. Because they were standing in front of a cemetery.

  Ellis’s stomach sank as he stared at the open iron gates. A path led from the gate, farther into the cemetery. Ellis could see tombs and mausoleums in between branches, the path leading inside lined with trees.

  The trees were full of green leaves, bursting with life. It was pretty but just a bit off in Ellis’s opinion.

  Or maybe that was just his mind making him think about who might be buried there. Maybe his aunt? Was her tomb somewhere in there?

  Their relationship had been nonexistent. She left—ran away, he corrected himself—when he was four. There was no reason for why he felt like this. Why had the thought of maybe seeing his
aunt’s grave made him feel so… unsettled?

  But he should, shouldn’t he? They might not have known each other, but they were still family. Even if only by blood.

  He took a step toward the iron gates, but a warm callused hand on his forearm made him stop. He snapped his attention away from the cemetery and back at Rudá.

  The other man had a strange look on his face, one Ellis couldn’t quite name.

  “She’s not there,” he said in a soft voice. It seemed out of character for him. Ellis had no idea why he thought that, since he’d known Rudá for a handful of days and was in no way privy to the many facets of his persona.

  “She’s-she’s not?” Ellis stuttered.

  Rudá shook his head, his hand on Ellis’s arm tightening. Ellis nodded but looked back at the cemetery anyway.

  “Would you like to visit her?” Rudá asked in that same soft voice.

  Ellis nodded before he could think too much about it. She deserved that much, didn’t she? Even if she had been a stranger, she was still blood.

  “Okay,” Rudá said and pulled Ellis after him and away from the cemetery.

  IT WASN’T much. A headstone on the ground with a tree looming over it.

  Meredith Campos

  1959—2018

  Daughter, sister. Beloved friend.

  That was it. That was all that marked his aunt’s grave. There was no flourish or embellishment. The headstone was simple and functional. Ellis was starting to understand that a lot of things about his aunt were like that.

  Functional. Practical.

  Except maybe Rudá. Ellis looked up from his aunt’s grave and studied the man standing next to him. He didn’t seem… practical. If Ellis was to believe the story Rudá told about how he ended up on the Blue Feathers Coffee Farm. And Ellis had no reason to think otherwise.

  Yet Meredith Campos went out of her way to take him back home and then eventually gave in and kept him around.

  Why, though? It made about as much sense as her leaving her home to him.

  “Would you like to say something?” Rudá looked up from the grave and stared at Ellis.