Page 70 of The Voice of Wild Places
“Watt, for hell’s sake, keep it down.”
Watt fell silent, his mind tripping over itself.Andrea had been asking if Watt was a friend of Dorothy.No, he’d said,‘are you a friend of Dorothy,too?’
That implied a kinship between him and Cornelius, and by the knowing look in Francesca’s eye, maybe her too.And Anderson had recognized the phrase, was he …?
Watt felt his world shift, just a little bit.
June 30th, 1930
Two and a half weeks.
They’d been there for two and a half weeks, and Cornelius had successfully avoided being alone with Andrea for the entirety of it.Watt, if possible, had clung to Cornelius even more so than he had in Bacairy Post.Whereas before he thought it peculiar, now he was simply grateful.Watt’s constant presence made the experience actually enjoyable, and for a short time Cornelius forgot their true purpose.
He got on incredibly well with Joaquim, and he admired how the man efficiently managed his site and the people within it.He was obviously a leader people turned to, but it never seemed like he was superior to the rest of the team, for he did the dirty work in addition to the rest.There were two active dig sites in the area, the tumuli and its surrounding urn field, and the village itself.They found the village and its numerous constructions last year, and so they were further along there.The urn field was another matter, however.
This is where Joaquim placed Watt and Cornelius, working beside Thomas, Benedito, Antônio, and Francesca.She examined the layers that Cornelius and the others gently unearthed, and despite that first night Cornelius found that he didn’t mind Francesca.She was professional and pleasant enough, much unlike her brother.Or unlike how he usually was.Andrea hadn’t insulted, bothered, or even so much as looked at Cornelius funny since that first night.He was genial, respectful, and confusing.He was acting like the man that Cornelius had first met, and cared for.Cornelius tried not to look into the act too closely, waiting for Andrea to show his true colors once again.
The performance was broken on a night like any other.After working since six in the morning, the group called it a day at six in the evening, abandoning work in favor of washing up and regrouping for dinner.Usually most of the crew went out to the bonfire after filling their bellies, but Antônio and Benedito stayed behind in the canteen to socialize, and so Watt and Cornelius often did too.Sometimes Charles and Thomas stayed behind, the ladies too, but tonight they all attended the fire.Out there instruments were played and stories told, the types of which varied greatly.Cornelius found himself going out there more despite Andrea’s presence, devouring the high energy from the others.
But tonight he was craving the quiet company of Benedito’s group.The intern still seemed baffled by his sudden flock of companions, but took it in stride.Tonight, Benedito, Antônio, and Watt discussed the implications of something or other, while Cornelius pretended to listen.His mind was elsewhere, in places it shouldn’t have been.
Cornelius had never worked such an efficiently run excavation, nor one which such a pleasant team.That wasn’t to say everyone got along all the time, but issues were communicated and dealt with immediately instead of leaving to fester and deteriorate morale.Despite having been here for over a year, Joaquim’s team was just beginning to understand what lay beneath their feet.Deep within Cornelius’ heart, he believed it was the place Fawcett had been looking for.That to go any further looking for it, or him, was folly, because the man was dead and the city he was looking for wasrighthere.
There was another part of Cornelius that liked the way Watt was here.Relaxed, and happy.Cornelius still found it hard to decipher how the man was truly feeling for he was more excellent at putting on masks than Cornelius was, but he thought it was true.Watt was happy here.He had a routine again, a daily purpose and people who wanted to listen to what he had to say.Would that happiness last though, if they gave up on their quest?Watt beheld a certain type of honor and pride, and begrudgingly Cornelius did too.A man did not go back on his word, and if they did, it could haunt them for the rest of their lives.
“Cornelius?”
Cornelius blinked.Benedito and Antônio were exchanging a look.Watt stared at him, worry creasing his brows.Cornelius shook his head a little.“Sorry, I—I’m a bit tired.I think I’ll turn in for the night.”He pushed away from the table, standing a little uneasily.He hadn't been using his cane for a few days now, and acutely wished he had it.
“I’ll come with you,” Watt said.
“No, stay.It’s early yet.”Cornelius gave Watt a reassuring smile, effectively stopping the man in his efforts to get up as well.
“If you’re sure.”Watt relented.
Cornelius patted his shoulder, then nodded to Antônio and Benedito.“Night fellas.See you in the morning.”
Cornelius left the canteen behind, wandering down the path back to their tent.The night was crisp, and the stars bright.The moon was just beginning to rise over the broken canopy, a waxing crescent that shone with all its might.Cornelius swatted at a vague insect, grumbling as he dove inside the tent for shelter.The grumbling soon transformed into a curse.
Andrea was sitting on his cot, hands clasped between his knees and head bowed.Upon seeing Cornelius he stood, looking a bit sheepish.“There you are,” he said quietly, then took a step towards Cornelius.
Cornelius didn’t budge from his place just inside the tent flap.“What do you want, Andrea?”
Andrea ran a hand over the back of his neck and tried on a smile.“Easy, I only want to talk.”
Cornelius fought the urge to cross his arms.He kept his stance easy, but his feet were planted.
Andrea stood before him now, his shoulders hunched and dark eyes big and shining in the dim light.
“We have nothing to talk about.There is nothing you could say that I want to hear, and nothing I—”
“I’m sorry, Cornelius,” Andrea whispered.
Cornelius laughed.
The man who had once been his lover, his friend, had the audacity to look affronted.“I am,” he insisted.
“Do you even know what those words mean?”
