Page 12 of The Voice of Wild Places
March5th,1930
Watt knocked on Cornelius’ office door at exactly eight o’clock Wednesday morning.Cornelius gathered himself on the other side, allowing a moment to pass before he opened it.Watt stood at parade rest.He was alone, and wearing the same suit as before.No brown bow tie this time, but a few strands of what appeared to be animal hair stuck to his wrinkled trousers in places, and Cornelius fixated on them for a moment.
“Good morning, Dr.Sawyer.May I come in?”Watt asked in a pleasant quiet tone, not unsure like before but confident and at ease.
“Of course.Please.”Cornelius gestured for him to enter, and Watt looked at him strangely before doing so.Cornelius closed the door behind him, reminding himself to breathe through the thick, awkward tension that had developed.They stood together, alone, in the middle of his slightly tidied up office.This felt like the true reunion, and his anxiety was a difficult thing to quell.He'd been fine all morning, but now he was face to face with his past.Cornelius did his best to remain civil, professional.“Has Mrs.Fawcett departed, then?”
Watt nodded.“Yes, her train left early this morning.”
“Ah.”
Watt studied Cornelius, not his body but his soul, maintaining a sort of eye contact that was impossible to break away from.Watt’s own eyes were an unforgettable hazel, and they beheld a spark that was lacking before.Perhaps it was the way sunlight streamed through the window, lighting up the gold that danced around brown and green.Today, it was Cornelius who broke the staring contest first.
Spotting Fawcett’s journal on his desk beside an envelope, Cornelius made a dash for the desk and nearly tripped over a guest seat in the process.He grumbled at the damn thing, then picked up the journal and carefully handed it over to Watt.Despite having read it front to back several times, and nearly writing an entire book of his own filled with notes and conspiracies, Cornelius felt a keen sense of loss upon relinquishing Fawcett’s work.
“Ah, thank you,” Watt whispered.He tucked the journal under his arm, fingers digging into the leather.Cornelius noted the faded criss-crossing scars on the backs of his hands.Watt cleared his throat, raising his voice.“And did you … that is, have you given any thought to—ah.”He rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand.“Did the Colonel change your mind?Will you come?”
Truly, Cornelius hadn’t made a final decision ‘till now.He’d spent days exploring Bolivia, Peru, and Brazil with Fawcett.Countless hours reading between the lines in attempts to decipher the man’s journey, and the biggest mystery of all was the dual sets of coordinates.The route he planned to set off from was different from what was publicly discussed, or even what Brian listed in his manuscript.The only clue to Fawcett’s true route was buried in an original journal entry.Cornelius could still picture the faint words in the margins, and the corresponding coordinates to a new, true location.‘DEAD HORSE CAMP’
Fawcett shrouded his notes with mystery, and frequently used words like quest and scheme.The journal was censored, this fact was made clear by vague references in margins, like there was an entirely different conversation occurring between Fawcett and true desire.Fawcett was searching for something, and it wasn’t just an enchanted city.Cornelius had written it all down in a journal of his own, every detail that intrigued or confused him.Even the damn butterflies.
But what piqued Cornelius’ interest most were the letters sent home to Fawcett's remaining family.Jack was so full of vigor and enthusiasm, growing stronger each day they spent on the adventure.For Percy, the expedition was just another day in the woods.He was confident in his son, and their return home.Then there was Raleigh.It was almost certain that Raleigh died from infection, brought on by a tick of all things.The bugs, as incessant as they were, would be the least of their worries even though they killed just as easily as anything else.
“Cornelius?”Watt asked softly, and by God.If hearing Cornelius’ old name in Watt’s mouth was heartbreak, the sound of it now was pure ecstasy.Warm, like laying on the beach with the early summer sun beating down upon your face and a whole lifetime ahead of you.
Cornelius cleared his throat, doing his best not to fidget with his suspender clips.He said, “I have conditions.”
Watt’s eyes practically lit up and he straightened to his full height.He opened his mouth, then checked himself and assumed a less eager disposition.The move was painfully familiar, even over a decade later.Watt, much taller than the average man even at a young age, always felt the need to make himself smaller.Less intimidating.
“Of course.Should I—” Watt glanced at Cornelius’ desk, which was for once devoid of scraps of paper and chaos.“Should I write them down?”
“No, there’s not many.First, I must insist that we maintain a professional working relationship, nothing more.Second, any decisions made will be a joint effort.”
Watt blinked.“That’s—that’s perfectly reasonable.”
Cornelius raised a brow, he wasn’t finished.“And lastly, if I shall fall behind or become ill, you will heed my wishes even if that means going on without me.If we are separated, do not come looking for me.”
Watt’s lips pressed thin and his eyes narrowed.Slowly, he said, “I do not think I can promise that.”
Cornelius wanted to look away from the sudden intensity of Watt’s gaze, but this was too important.“Then no deal.”
Watt’s chest rose and fell with great effort as he considered Cornelius.Watt didn’t ask why, but Cornelius supposed it was obvious.Cornelius wasn’t a fit man, and his leg would most certainly have him be the less apt of the two.While Watt had never been in South America, Cornelius knew he could understand the concept of survival from his time as a military man.You did what you had to do, and Cornelius didn’t want to come in the way of someone else’s survival.Better off to give permission now.
In the end, Watt relented with a nod.
“Good.When do we leave?”
Watt winced.“Ah, only a few weeks.”
Cornelius bowed his head in assent, finding it hard to meet Watt’s eyes now that the deal was done.“Fine.I need to wrap up my affairs here, then I shall meet up with you.We’ll be departing from your city, I assume?”
“Yes, but I—”
“Perfect, then—”
“I can wait for you."Watt blurted out.“And we could travel together, if you’d like.Extra time to go over the plan, and—”
“No.”Cornelius stiffened, overcome with a surge of fierce anger.“Thank you.Now if you don’t mind, I have some work to do, much preparation.”Cornelius partially turned away from him, bracing himself on his desk with a sweaty hand.He stared down at the neat, beautiful writing across the front of the torn envelope on his desk.
