Page 13 of The Voice of Wild Places
“Right.Okay.Well.Thank you.”Watt stiffly turned towards the door, then stopped.He looked back at Cornelius, and didn’t move until the man glanced over his shoulder at him.“Thank you.”
“It’s not for you,” Cornelius said, unable to help himself.
Watt flinched.“I know.”
He left, and Cornelius turned his attention back down to the envelope.He had no idea how Watt would feel about a letter from Germany being in Cornelius’ possession.The war had been over for nearly a decade, but Cornelius knew some men found it hard to bury their resentment towards the Germans.Cornelius hadn’t fought in the war, but he had visited Berlin for a short time when he’d first struck out on his own.It was the first of many steps that changed his life.
It didn’t matter what Watt thought of Cornelius’ affairs, anyways.
Cornelius took a seat behind his desk, reading the letter once more before putting it away.Just once more.It was postmarked from a little over a week ago, having made its long journey from Tiergarten, Berlin, and written in French.
Dearest Cornelius,
February 24th, 1930
You sound terribly bored, stuck in the depths of winter and monotony.I have shared your love with everyone, and we miss you fiercely.Although, I’m sure the weather is much better in your part of the world than it is ours.And the atmosphere too, hopefully.People are on edge here, tense or zealous in equal measure.
There have been these terrifying torch lit parades at night through Berlin, and flyers and newspapers everywhere that announce an uncertain future.They speak of the restoration of German Glory, warning against anyone who does not fit the image of such.As you can imagine, the population within the Institute’s walls is not their idea of glory.
We are going home, although it breaks my heart to say so.We have been spoiled in the confines of this place, complacent in this new landscape that is so fraught with tension.We are not the only ones thinking of fleeing, but Dr.Hirschfield will not.In fact, he is preparing for dear Lili’s operation which shall still take place on March 5th.We will stay long enough to see her make it through, and then go home.You can direct any future letters to Dimitri’s mother, whose address I’ve attached below.We look forward to hearing from you, your words shall serve as a homecoming gift.
Stay safe and strong, Gabriel and Dimitri
Cornelius put his head in his hands.Oh, the relief he’d felt upon receiving their letter.But now that relief was nearly eclipsed by worry and sheer longing.He missed his friends, his people.It was nothing like Berlin here, or Paris.It was lonely, and he had few confidantes that understood him so completely.His eyes stung and his lip trembled, but he did not cry.He wouldn’t.
Cornelius recomposed himself through the help of several cups of coffee and nearly a mile's worth of pacing.He straightened up his desk, his clothes, and his hair, then made the short walk to Esther’s office.He knocked on her door, and moments later she called, “Come in.”
Esther sat at her desk, back straight and loose curls hanging around her face.On the surface she appeared none the worse for wear, but the effects of their late night endeavors lingered in the puffiness beneath her dark eyes.“How’d it go?”
Cornelius took a seat in one of the chairs opposite his friend, putting his feet up on the spare.Esther’s office was prim and proper, everything in its place.It had to be, for it was terribly small and poorly lit.Certainly not a proper place for someone in a position such as hers.Esther filled the role that Sara left behind after she left, and the extra duties of the great number of staff who left with her.Sara wasn’t the sort to take injustice quietly, and neither was Esther.But Esther wasn’t ready to leave or back down, not yet.
She raised a brow at Cornelius’ loafers, and he set them back down on the floor with a great sigh.He spent another moment trying to get comfortable, clearly procrastinating.Esther tapped her desk with a finger, beholden with all the patience in the world.Cornelius settled for an ankle over a knee, folding his hands together in his lap.He finally gave Esther a small smile, which was answer enough.
Esther grinned, lightly slapping the table.“You bastard, I knew there was no way in hell you’d say no.”
Cornelius’ smile widened despite his misgivings.He couldn’t deny he was elated, temporarily overcome with a type of joy only those at the beginning of their journey feel.Before they realized what a terrible mistake they’d made.
He gave a little shrug and said, “Yes, well.What can I say, I’m a glutton for punishment.As long as you're still willing to take on my course load next semester, or two.”
“Yes, yes.”Esther leaned forward.“What did he think of your conditions?”
Cornelius scratched at his temple.“He agreed to them.”
Esther frowned.“All of them?”
“Yes,” Cornelius said, trying not to scowl at her.“It’s only fair.”
“Hmm.”Esther considered Cornelius for a moment, then extended her hand across the desk to him.He took it, waiting for her to try and change his mind.Esther shook her head and said, “I sincerely hope that you find what you’re looking for, and that you come home.And if you don’t … well, it’ll be nice to have a bigger office.”
Cornelius laughed, but his mind caught on her words.What else could Cornelius be looking for besides Fawcett?
Horace H.F.Jayne wasn’t much older than Cornelius, but infinitely more accomplished.Cornelius couldn’t help but remind himself of that fact as he sat across from the Director of the University Museum of Archaeology and Anthropology.The man frowned as he read through Cornelius’ inelegant tornado of a proposal, having already listened to the verbal portion.He'd only been Director for a year, but Cornelius had known him since ‘22.He was the man who coordinated Penn’s team on the Ur dig, and introduced Cornelius to Woolley.
He was one of the few men who knew Cornelius’ secret, all thanks to that shithead Andrea Carmine.
Thankfully, Horace was a decent man and hadn’t told a soul.Or if he had, it’d been one who was equally quiet on the matter.
Cornelius had gathered that Horace facilitated Nina’s visit and sang his praises.So he couldn’t understand why the man appeared so … disappointed?Irritated?His mustache twitched while he slowly leafed through pages upon pages of Cornelius' notes, the final draft much better than his initial attempts but still tainted by mania and a lack of sleep.
