Page 6 of The Voice of Wild Places
When they entered Cornelius’ office, he cringed.He cleared a stack of papers from one of the guest chairs, carefully depositing them in the dusty nook behind his side of the desk.He said, “I apologize for the mess, I don’t have many visitors, and I’ve been working on a project.As you can imagine, the papers tend to take over.Please, take a seat.”
“What a pleasant space you have, Dr.Sawyer.”Nina remarked, and Cornelius smiled a little.It was narrow and overstuffed, decorated with leaf litter from unruly plants who spilled dirt here and there.He wasn’t half the gardener that Mason was, but the man kept insisting on giving him plants.For his birthday, for Christmas.Just because.
A great window occupied the wall behind the desk, and the deep sill played host to a carafe and coffee paraphernalia, among other things.The view was nice, blessed with grass and trees, albeit managed and manicured.Cornelius’ office was his lunch room, break room, study, and haven.As such, it was well organized chaos.Bookshelves covered both sides of the room, and while there were certainly enough books to consider the office a library, old tools and random bits and bobs were on the shelves too.
A small and simple shelf hung above the upper ledge of the big window, a little crooked, where Cornelius’ most prized possessions kept watch over everything.
Three books that had seen better days were sandwiched between a new set of binoculars, and an old Kodak Brownie.Neither the new nor the old had been used in many years, and it was only in times of great melancholy did Cornelius venture to choose one of those three particular books depending on his mood, and read it from start to finish in one sitting.And only then would the despair clear, and he could take on the world once more.
Back turned to his guests and hands flitting over coffee mugs, Cornelius said, “I hold a great deal of respect for you and your husband’s work, but I was not aware you held an interest in mine.”He poured coffee into the first cup, then the second.“And Dr.Johnson, I understand that you are an anthropologist now, correct?”
“No.I—yes, I mean.I am,” Watt said, his prim accent now rife with anxiety.The utter opposite of how he spoke to Mason.“I was an archaeologist, but only for a short time before switching.”
Cornelius bit the inside of his cheek and arranged a makeshift tray.The mugs were mismatched, and the sugar container was a discarded jar from the lab (cleaned thoroughly) accompanied by a tiny silver spoon.Oh, the fucking spoon.Watt had given it to his Mama the second summer they knew each other, and Cornelius had somehow ended up with it.He’d never gotten around to getting rid of it.It was nothing special, but it was just so damn perfect for sugar though.It was fine, Watt wouldn’t even remember.
Nina cleared her throat, deftly moving on from Watt’s awkwardness.“I appreciate the flattery, but I shall be blunt with you, Dr.Sawyer.I’m not really here to speak with you about the stars, although I do find your theories regarding the convergence of archaeology and astronomy to be truly fascinating.It’s a wonder it hasn’t been explored sooner.”
“Oh.”Cornelius’ heart sank, and heavy disappointment intermingled with prickling, self directed irritation.He should’ve known.Should’ve realized he was being deceived.But why?
He turned away from the window and set down the tray on his desk, closer to Nina and Watt’s side of things.Cornelius took up residence in his own chair, a second hand thing supported by four legs and a prayer.Having tucked his irritation deep within himself, Cornelius folded his hands and looked at Nina, who had already taken the mug closest to her.
“I’m afraid I don’t have any milk,” he said.
Nina took a sip, then nodded once.“It’s perfect the way it is.”
Watt, on the other hand, proceeded to dump approximately five spoonfuls of sugar into his coffee.He was entranced by the tiny yet mighty spoon moving through the black liquid, forcing sugar and coffee to become a cohesive entity.Cornelius cursed internally.
Nina glanced at Watt while he fixed his cup and shook her head, then set her own mug down.She studied Cornelius, her spine straight and wrinkled eyes keen.“You’ve led an impressive life so far, Dr.Sawyer, and have many merits to your name—“
“Oh, I’m not sure about that, ma’am,” Cornelius interjected.Nina flashed him a scolding look that reminded him of Mama, then continued on like he’d said nothing at all.
“You attended university in France and graduated with your doctorate in America at a significantly young age, and you specialize in … niche research, let’s say.I’m told that you’re an exceptional teacher, and an enigmatic man.You’ve attended digs with the likes of Woolley and Mason, no less.A Mr.Shotridge as well, if I hear correctly.”
“Whoever you spoke to was far too kind.”Cornelius cut in, feeling like the rug had been pulled out from beneath him.
“Sara always was, wasn’t she?”Nina said, and the last bit she added with a touch of fondness, which paired with the sound of Sara’s name made Cornelius’ heart clench.It’d been eight years, and grief had yet to fade.Sara Yorke Stevenson was his mentor, his advocate, his friend in a strange world.Now, she was six feet beneath the ground in Laurel Hill.Cornelius supposed it shouldn’t be a surprise that Nina and Sarah knew each other, besides the fact that one was American and the other was not, they were in similar fields and seemed to have similar personalities.But when had they talked about him?And why?
Cornelius swallowed treacherous hot emotion and cleared his throat.Slowly, he said, “And here I was under the impression you weren’t familiar with me.I—I don’t understand, Mrs.Fawcett.What do you want from me?”Cornelius briefly glanced at Watt who startled at the eye contact, like he’d been staring and was caught in the act.
Cornelius bit his tongue on,‘and why are you here?’
He convinced himself that it didn’t matter.Watt was extraneous.
For the first time, Cornelius had taken Nina off guard.It was subtle, her face was smooth and devoid of anything but nonchalance.But she took another sip of her coffee, and the mug trembled before meeting the desk once again.No, not off guard.She was nervous.
Nina Fawcett said, “An archaeologist named Joaquim da Silva has discovered ruins near Cuiabá, between the rivers Teles Pires and Xingu, in the same area where an Enchanted City is rumored to be.The site keeps expanding, and so is the workload.Columbia is assisting,” Nina gestured to Watt, “along with several other universities.However, they are in need of another archaeologist.Someone with your experience, and frankly, your wits.I’ve been assured the University Museum is more than happy to lend a hand.Yours, particularly.In exchange for glory and the like, of course.”
A cluster of mangled nerves in Cornelius’ left calf flared up, and he inhaled sharply through his nose.Overwhelming heat, pain, and—and—
He took a sip of coffee to drown out the pain, the uncalled for panic.He carefully set his mug down on the desk, then turned it so the handle was facing the right way.“Unofficially?”
Nina leaned ahead, and Cornelius found himself doing the same.Determination set between her brows, and her eyes burned anew.“Unofficially, I am asking you to find my husband, and bring him home.You see, the area they are studying is where Percy meant to go, thetruearea.Penn will provide for your basic expenses, and Colombia’s donors will compensate you for your efforts.I will be honest with you, it’s not an extravagant sum.”
Cornelius stared at her, unable to comprehend what she was saying.
But there’d been a nagging whisper since her arrival, hadn’t there?Something that sounded a lot like far fetched hope?
“Mrs.Fawcett, I—I thought it was determined that he was dead?”
