Page 29 of The Voice of Wild Places
Watt hadn’t been sure how he felt all morning.But now, standing by the window and gazing outside while Cornelius busied himself, his emotions crashed down upon him.There was excitement dampened by a heavy fog, which was further overshadowed by anxiety and exhaustion.He’d spoken with Severino Antunes several times, but he’d never met the man and was apprehensive about inviting a stranger into this strange and awkward partnership he had with Cornelius.He’d be meeting with them soon, prepared to herd them to the next tedious thing.
He couldn’t shake the keen sense he’d forgotten something upon the ship.He knew he ought to look through his suitcase like Cornelius was, but couldn’t bring himself to leave the sights outside their window.A busy city, similar in some ways to the one he left behind, but still unknown and different.Maggie sat at his feet instead of claiming the bed, and he wondered if the numbness spreading throughout his brain was the formations of an attack that would descend upon him later, when not in the relative safety of an enclosed and quiet room.
How did he ever think he could do this?
There was a distinct click behind him, one that had become familiar in the past week and a half.Watt looked over his shoulder, spying Cornelius looking a tad sheepish behind his camera.Three times now Cornelius had taken his photo, having asked before the first time if he had Watt’s permission to take candid shots.
Watt rather thought that him brooding in a hotel room was a waste of film, and was surprised to find himself saying so.
Cornelius chuckled.“Every explorer needs a good before and after photo, you know, before they’re beaten to hell by their perils.”
“Then what were the photographs on the ship for?”
“Practice,” Cornelius said.There was an easy air about him this morning, which Watt was grateful for.He wasn’t sure if he could handle prickly Cornelius today.
Watt straightened from the wall, extending a hand towards Cornelius.“Then you should have a before photo as well, yeah?”
Cornelius cleared his throat.“Oh.I suppose so.”
He carefully handed off his camera to Watt, who inhaled upon gripping the cool metal and leather, and the subsequent brush of Cornelius’ warm fingers.“It’s already set for the light at the window,” Cornelius said, pointing out the viewfinder and lever for the shutter.It wasn’t an enormous box like the camera his family had, this one fit nicely in the hand, probably even more so when folded up.Now the red bellows were unfolded, supporting an extended lens.
Watt held the camera close to his abdomen and looked down to study the ridiculously tiny viewfinder.“Could you come forward?Into the rays of light there.”
Cornelius shot him a look, but did as he was asked.Watt looked down into the viewfinder again, and caught the moment Cornelius’ scowl transformed into secretive pleased amusement.He was skewed into an upside down perspective, but it was brilliant all the same.
Watt took the shot, and by the time the shutter clicked the expression was gone, replaced by his usual casual indifference.Cornelius took the camera, and his hands lingered for longer than seemed necessary to Watt, but he wasn’t so quick to pull away either.Cornelius looked up at him, eyes full of something … familiar, Watt thought.
It was only a few seconds in the grand scheme of things, nonetheless it was a moment suspended in time, one that Watt would turn over and over again in the weeks to come.
The camera slipped from beneath Watt’s fingers, and Cornelius turned away.He tucked it away with the rest of his things and said, “We better get going.Senhor Antunes is probably waiting for us.And I’m starving, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” Watt said, and found he could say nothing else.
Senhor Severino Antunes was far more charming in person than on the telephone, and he and Cornelius got on like a brush fire.He was about the same height as Watt, barrel chested and dressed in a smart and well tailored suit that had Watt feeling worse for wear.He had a dark complexion with close cut inky hair, and thick eyebrows slanted over eyes warmer than amber stones.He appeared to be of a similar age as themselves, but when he spoke it was measured and thoughtful, the words of a man who’d seen plenty and learned even more.His handshake was firm, palms calloused, and his smile reached his eyes.
They ate dinner in the hotel’s dining area, an expansive room that was well furnished but not extravagant.It didn’t take long for Cornelius to start peppering the man with questions, ones he would already know the answers to if he’d properly read any of Watt’s correspondence.
“So what exactly do you do, Senhor Antunes?”Cornelius asked after drinks had been served.
“Oh, the question should be what don’t I do.”Antunes chuckled heartily, then took a sip of his caipirinha.Watt and Cornelius had ordered the same by Antunes’ recommendation, and Watt found the drink painfully sweet.He drank it anyway.“Until now I have been Joaquim’s right hand and translator for the team, but with your arrival I am a guide now as well.Not that I mind, of course.Gives me a chance to visit home.”
“And where is home for you now, senhor?You are from Portugal, yes?”Cornelius asked, absently spinning his glass on the table.It was full, and threatened to spill over onto Cornelius’ fingers.
Antunes seemed pleased by this question.“Please, call me Severino.”
Cornelius' accent thickened when he said, “Severino,” and the sound of his voice was enough to kill a man.The way it rolled off his tongue, as if he were born and bred here.His eyes had darkened, reminding Watt of the glint of steel beneath a full moon.
Was … no, surely Cornelius couldn’t be.He had no idea who Antunes was, or if he was … inverted?Was that the word?Was there a sign that Watt had missed?But Antunes did not seem to notice the lilt in Cornelius’ tone and the hunger in his eyes.Watt wondered if perhaps his mind was putting a spin on things that did not exist, and he took a long pull from his drink.
Antunes said, “I met my wife at Coimbra, and followed her here.She has family whereas I do not, and I have come to love Brazil with the same passion she does.We have lived in Rio for a good number of years now.”
“How romantic,” Cornelius said wistfully.He tilted his head back and took a long drink, leaving mostly lime and ice behind.
“Do you not miss them?”Watt asked sharply, then blinked in surprise at his tone.He cleared his throat.“I apologize, that was too forward.”
Antunes evaluated Watt for a moment before speaking, and when he did it was solemn.“I miss them with such ferocity it hurts, Senhor Johnson.But let me ask you this.Did your dear Colonel Fawcett not miss his family?Or our own Marshal Rondon?Or any of the other great explorers of our time, for that matter.”
“I believe they did,” Watt allowed.
