Adriana
by Marko Lampas
E-book $10.50

Adriana

Sample Chapter

Adriana called out to her brother from the back seat, “Pedro! Pedro! Slow down, slow down, you idiot! You’re going too fast on a dirt road, raising a cloud of dust that’s going all over the grapes and the workers. Also there're young kids around playing.”

He turned his head, glared at her, and brought the vehicle to a crawl before parking several feet behind the flatbed trucks. He was not pleased with his sister’s reprimand.

“I see no kids on the road and what’s a little dust for Christ’s sake?” Pedro griped. “The grapes are made from dust, and they, they work all day in dust. Why the hell are you so concerned about them? — Stop calling me names, okay! I don’t like it!”

Adriana ignored her brother’s remarks and hurried out of the car to look for her friends. She climbed the small hill next to the road, muttering to herself. “‘Why are you so concerned about them?’ Because they’re human beings, you moron.” She wanted to reprimand her brother, but her spirit was flying high and she was in no mood to quarrel with him.

Pedro’s girlfriend Julia followed Adriana out of the car and stood next to Pedro, wearing a bored expression. She didn’t want to be here. Not at the laborers’ place and not on this scorching afternoon.

Adriana had persuaded her brother to bring her to the vineyard to visit with some of the working girls she had befriended. She just loved the time of the harvest. She looked at the colorful vineyards spread out on three hills as far as the eye could see. She felt the heat of the late summer sun on her bare shoulders and smelled the sweet fragrance carried by the soft breeze. It was the fragrance of the cypress and plum trees planted among the grape vines. Many believed the trees attracted certain insects beneficial for the grapes.

The lively song of the birds and crickets was a harmonious accompaniment to the chorus of the workers singing the famous song La Paloma. Suddenly, an ingenuous smile burst across Adriana’s face, crinkling the corners of her beautiful eyes. She took a deep breath as if she wanted to inhale the entire panorama of natural beauty.

With a cold beer in his hand, Pedro approached her. “What are you looking at? What in the hell are you looking at? Haven’t you seen the vineyards before? Come on, let’s find Pablo. I see his car down there by the second field. We’ll say hello and then get the hell out of here. It’s too damned hot for me.”

“I have seen the vineyards, Pedro, but they were never so beautiful,” Adriana answered him without taking her eyes off the workers. “Look at their colorful clothes. Look how beautifully they blend with the colors of the vine leaves ... and listen, listen to their song. It echoes in the field.”

“Yes, yes, I hear ¾ this isn’t my kind of music ¾ now come, let’s go and see Pablo. I'm hot and I want to go to the club and jump into the pool. Why the hell did you drag me out here anyway? I can’t wait till you get your own goddamn license.”

“Stop complaining, for heaven’s sake; you’re such a snob. What if you had to work like them?” Adriana snapped.

“Adriana, it’s no use. Don’t waste your time.” Julia had joined the conversation. “He only has eyes for the young girls at the pool and at the beach. Hard labor isn’t Pedro’s cup of tea. You’re right. I think he’s a real snob. For that matter, I think we all are. My God, look at them carrying those baskets in this heat. I'm glad we don’t have to do something like that. I would simply die.”

Adriana turned and stared at Julia and her brother. Yes, you should certainly count your blessings.

There were more than two hundred Mexicans and other Latin-American workers. Men, women and children were filling their baskets as fast as they could to harvest the best grapes to make the famous Samoza Wine, a wine that had become much sought after in just the past twenty or so years. It was a late September afternoon, and perspiration was dripping down the workers’ faces, staining their colorful clothing as they passed by to hand over their baskets to the men on top of the flatbed trucks before starting over again with empty ones. There were buckets full of water and a canister with cold water nearby for the men to drink and soak their oversize red handkerchiefs. They would first wipe off the inside of their sombreros and then the sweat from their faces. Some women and young ones would do the same with their colorful scarves. They all nodded a salute to Adriana and her brother before they resumed harvesting.

“Ola! Ola! Where are my friends, Magda, Flora, Katrina and the other girls? I don’t see them.”

Most of the men and women did not speak English and couldn’t understand what Adriana was asking. “They just went back on top of the hill with empty baskets, Adriana. They’ll be coming down soon.” The man from the top of the flatbed truck told her.

“Thank you, I’ll wait for them.”

This first field was huge, close to thirty or more acres.

A teenaged boy, not more than fourteen, was admiring Pedro’s sports car when he turned and murmured to his mother next to him, “It’s good to be rich, Madre, no? They never have to work like us.” She pushed his shoulder toward the vines and walked behind him, fearing that Pedro might hear him. She assumed Pedro was as cruel as his older brother Pablo.

“Look at them,” Adriana muttered to herself. She loved to watch the graceful sway of their bodies moving in the fields, picking up their heavy loads and carrying them high on their shoulders to the trucks. It must be hard, especially for the elderly and the young ones, but it has beauty, too. There is grace in their movements, like a ballet without one wasted step, or like the movie I recently saw, “Cavalleria Rusticana.” This scene is reminiscent of those vineyards of Sicily, where the chorus sang the famous “Brindisi.” Such a beautiful film, a love story ... that ends tragically.

The workers and her family thought her to be very young, which she was, only seventeen. But none knew the maturity of this beauty and the extent of her caring for all these workers. She inherited her grandfather’s caring heart, and looking at all these workers reminded her of that day she spent with him ... there, on top of that hill under the large oak tree.

She climbed down from the hill and took few steps away; she didn’t want to be near her brother and his friend. She wanted to be alone. Looking at the elderly workers, she saw their sad expressions. She thought she knew what they were thinking and what they were cursing ¾ they were cursing destiny, their poverty and their hopelessness. Her joyful expression paled for few seconds.

Then she stared at the great old tree, and memories flooded her mind. She remembered her grandpa’s suntanned wrinkled face under his huge sombrero, his white eyebrows arched like canopies over his deep gray eyes, his long white mustache hanging along each side of his mouth. How handsome he was and how content she felt sitting next to him with his arm around her. Oh, Grandpa, Grandpa, how I love you and how I miss you! I suppose they think I'm too young to know of the cruelty and hardships that exist in the world, but I do.

She saw four little ones near the trucks, playing on the dirt road, and looked again at the workers coming and going from the flatbed trucks, waving hello to her. She wondered if her father was fairly compensating all these people ... if her family was really rewarding these workers for their labors. She knew they were very wealthy now, but her grandpa had started these vineyards from nothing. He had told her about his hardships and dangerous life. She must find out if they were as fair to the workers as her grandpa had been.

She could see the way her brothers and her friends behaved and would not emulate their immature actions. Most of them were conceited rich snobs, racially prejudiced, and acting like juveniles ¾ as if the world belonged to them. They should be forced to do some hard labor, like these people, to feel what it is to be underprivileged, she thought. And hopefully, they would then see their way to become kindhearted.

She preferred to socialize with the young friends she made here at the vineyard who saw her for who she was and not as the daughter of a millionaire. They were simple, hard-working folks who cared for each other.

“Where are they? Where are my friends? I hope they come down soon,” she murmured.

Adriana knew she was of Mexican descent herself and of humble ancestry. The harvest of any kind is festive, because it’s Mother Nature’s provision. But the harvest of a vineyard ¾ it has something special; it has color and joy. At the family-owned vineyards in years past, the harvest would be brought to a small distillery first to be made into wine. Then, from the pits and peels of the grapes, the eastern Europeans and those from Middle Eastern countries would make the Ouzo, Tsipuro or Raki.

With yet another prosperous season coming to an end, the young workers wore joyful expressions. However, the older folks were now concerned with hardship and where the next employment would be.

“Pedro, I’ll run up the hill and see if I can find my friends. Wait for me. And shut off that stupid noise. You know I hate rap music.”

“Hold on, hold on, Adriana, I told you Julia and I are getting damn bored, and would like to get the hell out of here. Come, let’s go back to the club. And when you get your own car you can play whatever shit music you like. Julia and I like rap, okay?”

Once more Adriana was about to ignore her brother, ready to run into the field, when she saw a tall, handsome young man coming out, carrying a basket that overflowed with grapes, and walking toward the truck. He handed his basket to the man in charge of loading and picked up an empty one. He turned and saw Pedro standing by his car, and then ... he saw her. He saw Adriana looking at him.

His face lit up, and he hoped Pedro would call him over and introduce him to this incredible-looking beauty standing several feet away from him. He knew she was Pedro’s sister and out of his reach, but he couldn’t help it. He was drawn to her. She was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. Every time she came to the vineyard it had been his bad luck to be in the next section of the field, too far to see her close up and with no chance to speak to her. But he could hear her laughter and singing with the other girls. She was the daughter of the multimillionaire owner and he was just a poor field-worker, but love has no boundaries. Love knows nothing of wealth and poverty; love is free. Such is the belief of the romantic poets and lovers.

Pedro and he had met at the vineyard by chance a couple of weeks earlier. It was during midday break when Pedro stepped out of his car holding a football. His younger brother, Francisco, was next to him. Mario asked Pedro to throw a couple of passes and shortly afterward they found out they were fans of the same football team ¾ the San Francisco 49ers.

Now, just as Mario was about to return into the field, his wish came true.

Pedro called out to him, “Hey, Mario! What’d you think of our team, man? They destroyed the Jets last Sunday. Did you see the game? Do you think they’ll make it this year? They already lost two preseason games, and we might have the same results like the last couple of seasons.”

Pedro was standing outside his car drinking beer with Julia standing next to him eating muscatel grapes that an elderly woman had just brought her. Adriana was several feet away.

Mario turned, and without making himself too conspicuous, he glanced at Adriana and then turned to her brother. “No, I didn’t see the game, Pedro; I was here working. But I saw some highlights on the late news. We played well and I say all the way. We have one hell of a team this year. We lost a couple of preseason games, but that’s okay; they don’t mean much. It’s the Super Bowl this year,” Mario said with conviction, hoping to prolong the conversation.

Adriana approached her brother, nudging him in the arm. “Do you know this guy? Call him over, go on; call him. I want to meet him.”

She was staring at Mario, who had put the basket on his shoulder and was asking the field manager for another pair of sharper shears. This was his excuse to delay going back into the field. He had noticed Adriana whispering to her brother, but he wasn’t sure about what. The man handed him the shears and Mario had no choice now but to walk back into the field. She’s looking at me. Oh! God, how I wish I could talk to her.

Two minds were having the same feverish thoughts and two pairs of eyes were gazing at each other.

He’s gorgeous! Adriana murmured to herself.

Pedro turned and looked at his sister with surprise. “Why in the hell do you want to meet this guy? He’s nobody. He’s just a field-worker! Are you nuts?”

She pinched him hard on his butt and muttered, “You’re showing your arrogance again. Everyone is somebody, you idiot. How dare you call him nobody? Now do it! Call him over.”

“Ouch! Stop that! I told you not to call me names!” Pedro groaned from the pinch, and took a step away from her. She glared at him; Mario had already walked back into the field.

“Call him!” She was ready to pinch him again.

“Okay, okay, don’t do that, damn it, it hurts. Hey, Mario! Mario, hold on, man, come here. Have a cold beer and meet my sister Adriana and my girlfriend Julia.”

Mario paused, wiped the perspiration off his face with his shirt, and came out. He hesitantly approached them, holding the empty basket, with the shears shoved inside his belt. He was dying to meet this beauty. And now he wished it was under different circumstances, not in his present working condition, all dirty and sweaty. But what other circumstances? He certainly wouldn’t meet her in her circle of friends ... he didn’t belong there. That he knew.

Adriana sensed his uneasiness; because of his appearance he kept fidgeting with his shirt and trying to look presentable. What she didn’t know was how much he longed for her. How many times he had dreamt of taking her into his arms. Her tall slender figure, and the way she carried herself, with her long hair swaying in the wind would make any man yearn to love her.

Sometimes she would run inside the field calling the names of the young working girls she was looking for and join them in a song. She even helped some of the older workers with their picking. Her presence would fill the fields with joyful laughter. It allowed many men the opportunity to glance at her sensual body and dream about the passion of love. Mario was one of them. He couldn’t help it; she was Helen of Troy and Aphrodite, goddess of love and beauty.

God! If it would only be possible for this siren to love me. Mario’s thoughts were running rampant as he slowly approached them.

“Hey, man, it’s another hot one, isn’t it?” Pedro said, reaching into the trunk of his car and pulling out a cold beer from the cooler. “Here, Mario, have a cold one and say hello to my sister Adriana and my girlfriend Julia.”

Mario bent his head down and responded softly. “I can’t take the beer, Pedro. Your brother doesn’t allow any alcohol while we’re at work. He’s very strict about that. I don’t want to lose my job, but I thank you for your offer.”

He glanced furtively at the beautiful Adriana, who returned his look with eyes full of passion, coupled with a tender smile.

“Pleased to meet you, Adriana ... Julia.” His eyes lingered on Adriana’s face just a little too long. He wanted to remember her every feature. This was the first time he had seen her close up. “I'm sorry, I would like to shake your hand but ...” he showed her his dirty hands, palms up.

Adriana stepped forward and grabbed one of his hands. “Never mind your hands, Mario; they’re covered with earth’s soil and the stain of the sweet grapes. It is very nice to meet you!” She wanted to wrap her arms around him. God! He’s so good-looking! Their eyes met, and in that first glance, she felt something she had never felt before. Love ¾ yes, it was love’s ecstasy, which filled her being. The power of love at first sight. The love poets write about it ¾ the love everyone dreams about, but few experience.

Pedro was oblivious to all that was going on between Mario and his sister. He threw the empty bottle inside the trashcan and opened the one he’d offered to Mario.

A group of young girls appeared. Some were Adriana’s friends, ready to call to her when they saw her holding Mario’s hand and the two looking into each other’s eyes. They giggled and decided to leave them alone and instead lure her brother to them. They gave Pedro a lingering once-over while they handed over their baskets to the men on the truck. Each one of them wished to trap this young and rich Samoza middle son. Pedro saw their flirtation and without any hesitation he approached them. The sweaty blouses of the girls revealed their firm breasts, driving him mad with desire and lust. He greeted them with a smile, and couldn’t take his eyes off of them. Some had purposely splashed water on themselves to reveal more of what Pedro yearned to see.

Julia naturally became annoyed and was in some way embarrassed by Pedro’s behavior. She turned to notice the invisible spark of love emanating from Mario and Adriana. She imagined she saw two loving winged cupids floating above them, ready to shoot their arrows.

I wish Pedro could have the same charm as Mario, but look at him, flirting with all those girls. He’s so rude, so immature. He’s obsessed with girls, sports, and cars, and his behavior drives me mad. I hate it. He’s always flirting with every girl he sees.

Out of the corner of his eye, Mario saw the field supervisor staring at him; he was about to order him to get back to work. But he wouldn’t dare ¾not while Adriana was holding his hand. During all of these endless seconds they spoke not a word, but only held hands and stared at each other.

“You must excuse me,” Mario gently said, “I have to get back to work.” He tried politely to pull his hand away from hers so he could shake Julia’s, but Adriana held on tight. He was not sure if she was serious, or simply teasing him, as young girls love to do, especially when they have the upper hand. She had a contented expression, peering into his eyes, and the windows to his soul. Mario was well aware of whom she was and that he was a simple laborer. True love is independent of these canons ¾ rich or poor, upper class or lower ¾ love is free, free of all these foolish values.

Mario looked somewhat bewildered when she still wouldn’t let go of his hand. He leaned his head over to catch sight of Pedro and Julia. Pedro was talking with the girls near the loading trucks and Julia was trying to be inconspicuous. He had also noticed that some of the workers and young girls were staring at them.

He had to say something, but what? He felt love’s power invading his heart. He was smitten with this beauty and her warm tender touch. He couldn’t believe what was happening. All of this was beyond his expectations.

He murmured, “Adriana, I must get back. In place of the beer I will drink a cold glass of water to your health.” She never stopped looking at him and never said a word. She was awestruck herself. In that instant, Mario realized he had been ignoring Julia who was staring at them with a contented smile. “And to you Julia, I’ll drink to your health, too. Forgive me, the hot sun makes me forget my manners.”

Julia Easton nodded with a smile. “Thank you, Mario.” She was somewhat embarrassed, left alone by her boyfriend and having to endure his rude behavior. She was a pretty young girl of medium height with honey-blond hair, blue eyes and an attractive figure. She was expensively attired in keeping with the fact that she also came from a very wealthy family.

With his charming smile, Mario dared to say, “I hope to see you again ... yes, you, too, Julia.” He turned and looked deep into Adriana’s eyes. “Adriana, your name is as beautiful as you are. Not long ago I read a story from ancient Greek mythology where a hero and a god loved you. I can love you.” The flame of passion was palpable between them now. Julia saw it, as well as some of the young girls ¾ Adriana’s friends ¾ who had returned with full baskets.

Adriana was still holding onto his hand, feeling his warmth and now wide-eyed from his words. What is he saying? He knows of that ancient love story? Of Theseus and Adriana and the god Dionysus. I want to reach over and place my lips on his. Oh, dear God! I have to let him go, but I don’t want to.

Mario memorized everything about her lovely face and he also wished for a burning kiss. Once more he saw from the corner of his eye the field manager looking at him. “I must go back to work, Adriana.”

Unwillingly, she slowly let go of his hand, but kept her eyes glued on him. Mario walked back to the canister with the cold water and lifted the cup with water to salute her and Julia before he paused near Pedro.

“Pedro, bring a football next time. At lunchtime, we can toss a few passes. I noticed last time that you have some arm ¾ quarterback stuff.”

“Sure, I’ll do that, Mario. You’re not bad yourself.” He tilted his bottle of beer in a salute without taking his eyes off the smiling girls who had surrounded him.

Adriana knew she would never forget that face. She had to catch her breath in an effort to conceal her excitement, especially from the staring eyes of Julia who knew now that Adriana was head over heels in love with this charming young man. Her friends knew it, too, and gave her a stare.

Mario’s suntanned face was covered with a day’s shadow of a black beard, matching his long curly hair, and perfect long eyebrows framed his deep, dark eyes. His square chin revealed his strength and kind personality, along with his beautiful smile. I shall dream of him. He should be my first lover and forever lover. Look at that long stride and his straight back. — I’m in love!

Some of the young girls who were infatuated with Mario had noticed his interest in Adriana and they hoped Adriana wouldn’t share the attraction. In spite of the fact that they loved Adriana, she belonged to a different world and had no right to steal this hunk of a man. Each one of them hoped to win his heart.

Flora and Katrina, saw this infatuation between Adriana and Mario and they were not happy at all. While the other girls rushed to greet Adriana, these two remained behind. They all asked what was going on with her and Mario, but Adriana refused to answer. She said only that she was happy to see them. Then she saw Katrina and Flora staring at her. She approached them and asked, “Hi, what’s with the long faces you guys? Why are you so serious? Is there something wrong?” Adriana asked, unaware of their jealousy.

“Adriana, you have all the rich snobs to choose from.” Flora snappily reproached her. “Why are you looking to break Mario’s heart? He’s such a nice guy. And way out of your class.”

“What?” Adriana responded surprisingly and turned to look at the other girl’s faces to see if they were of the same opinion. They weren’t. Flora and Katrina were her close friends whom she had invited to her estate and they had gone out together few times. “I'm sorry you two feel this way. I have no intention of breaking Mario’s heart. And what’s this bullshit remark ‘rich snob and way out of your class’ what are you talking about? I'm no different from you. My family is rich, so what? I don’t care; you two and all the rest of you are my friends.”

Katrina lifted the empty basket, “This, Adriana, this basket shows we’re different. You’re rich and powerful; we’re poor and hopeless, so stop pretending you’re like us. The rich snobs are your real friends. Not us.”

Adriana stared at Katrina and Flora, shocked and disappointed with their remarks. “I'm sorry you feel this way. My heart is not cruel as you think. I care for every one of you. I'm deeply disappointed with the two of you; I thought we were friends.”

“Yeah, sure, Adriana, we’re friends, but wait till your older brother and your parents find out about you making out with Mario.” Flora whispered in order for the others not to hear and both, she and Katrina slowly walked back into the field, before Adriana had a chance to respond.

Adriana stood there numb and deeply saddened. The rest of the girls with Pedro were nearby and heard all this. They left him and came to Adriana. All spoke to her with one voice. “Adriana, those two are madly in love with Mario. If he chooses Flora, Katrina will scratch Flora’s eyes out, or the other way around.”

“Thanks, — I'm sorry they feel this way, — what a surprise. I'm shocked.” Adriana put her arms around her friends, “Listen, you guys, I would love to come in the field with you, but this character, my brother, is in a hurry to leave. Please excuse me.”

Pedro came and put his arm around Adriana. “I’ll see you all tomorrow, okay?” Adriana told them and turned to Pedro. “Come, Romeo, take me back home and then you and Julia can go to your club, come.” Adriana grabbed Pedro by the arm and they walked back to where Julia was waiting.

Adriana
by Marko Lampas
E-book $10.50