Page 35 of The Voice of Wild Places
“I’m looking forward to seeing it,” Watt said.
Cornelius met Severino’s inquisitive gaze.“What do you know of our intentions, Severino?”
Severino flicked a glance at Watt, then to Cornelius.He said, “I know what Joaquim tells me.I know you are retracing Colonel Fawcett’s steps, and searching for him.And if not him, the Enchanted City, where the lights never go out.”
“You think it’s a fool’s errand,” Cornelius said, shifting on the bench to get a better look at Severino beside him.“Does Joaquim feel the same?”
“Yes.”Severino nodded.“I have told Watt this.”He gestured to Watt, who watched them with great intent.When Cornelius caught the other man’s eye, Watt dipped his chin.Not quite a nod, but affirmation enough.Cornelius wondered when they would’ve talked about it.While making arrangements, he supposed.Back when Cornelius was barely talking to Watt and making an ass out of himself.Still, he felt cut out somehow.
“And yet, Joaquim granted us permission.You’re taking us there.Why?”
“I do not know what Joaquim is thinking, he did not tell me why he agreed to this deception.But I am telling you it is pointless to go any farther than the site, because that is where Fawcett disappeared.To go where he went is to disappear.”
The word ‘deception’ stoked the fire inside Cornelius.He knew what they were doing was a lie, but he didn’t like to be called out on it, not by a man he’d come to like.Severino didn’t seem angry or to think less of them though, just … confused, or pitying?
He darted a look at Watt.“Did you know about this?”
Watt shook his head, looking at Severino strangely.“You did not tell me that.How do you know?”
“I do not know for certain, but I believe it to be true.All these landmarks,” he gestured to Watt, or presumably the map that Watt had been showing him that morning, “the stone tower, the waterfall.They are there, just to the north of the site.He was there, I’m sure of it.”
“I made a promise, Severino,” Watt said, and he sounded very tired.“I have to look for him, I can’t say ‘well that’s far enough’ based on a good feeling.I at least have to find something of his, something genuine, to bring back to his wife.I can’t go back empty handed.”
Severino lifted his hat and ran a hand through his hair, then replaced it.He said, “Do what you must, and I will do what I can to help.But this plan you have, with retracing the steps.Are you sure it is necessary?”
Cornelius frowned.“His path doesn’t diverge from the one you have planned, does it?”
Severino hesitated.“No, except for the detour to the Galvão estancia, before the Post.I do not think that is necessary, do you?”
“Yes,” Watt said.He did not elaborate, and the following silence was thicker than hell.Severino wrung his hands.Watt added, “Is that a problem?”
“We shall see,” Severino muttered, and lit up a cigarette.
By the last day of their train ride, Cornelius felt distinctly unmoored.Melancholy saturated his senses and emotions like a fog, and he couldn’t pinpoint why.It came upon him the same as it always had, no matter where he was or what he was doing.He’d spent so many years trying to outrun or ignore it, but all his efforts made no difference.He tried many times to understand where the sudden sadness intermingled with anger came from or why, to dig up his roots and search every inch for the black veins that pumped his being with foulness.If he could find where it originated, then he could cut it all out.
When all else failed, Cornelius usually turned to drinking.He’d been doing so well keeping his intake to a minimum, only partaking at dinner with Severino that first night in Rio.He’d been fine, more than fine even.Sure he was thirsty, but the itch beneath his skin was manageable, easy to suffocate with smoke (his attempts to limit his intake had failed) and conversation with his companions.
Tonight they’d be turning in fairly early, they didn’t have time to sightsee in São Paulo like they did in Rio.Tomorrow they’d visit the Butantan Institute, and the day after was for sending letters and picking up supplies.Besides Cuiabá, it would be the last major point to get anything they needed.Cornelius wanted to develop film and obtain more, and he was pretty sure Watt had his own errands to run.Severino had some business to conduct for Joaquim, and while Cornelius was disappointed they wouldn't be visiting the university here, he was glad for time to decompress.
Cornelius decided he would stay at the hotel instead of going out for dinner tonight, eat in and enjoy a couple hours of solitude and drink by himself.It sounded depressing on the outside, and it probably was, but he wouldn’t get carried away if he was by himself.He simply needed to recalibrate, and it’d be the last safe opportunity before he couldn’t.
Cornelius felt giddy at the idea of a plan setting into place, but the relief was immediately eclipsed by shame.Normal people didn’t act like this.Normal people … talked to people when they weren’t feeling well, right?They didn’t schedule time for drinking alone in order to cope with a vague and choking sadness.Then again, Cornelius tried to think of anyone he knew willingly confessing vulnerability.Not many came up.Except for Watt, like when he'd spoken about his time overseas.Cornelius thought Watt would tell him anything, if he asked.He was an anomaly though, too open for his own good.
But was Cornelius being too harsh on himself?
He didn’t know.
April 9th, 1930
Cornelius wanted to be alone.
Truthfully, Watt wanted to be alone as well.He wanted to eat, and sleep.Everything was painfully quiet since departing the train, and his ears rang with the absence of chaos.The hotel was about ten minutes from the station via taxi, and was much nicer than the one they’d stayed at in Rio.While Severino secured their rooms, Cornelius smiled weakly at Watt in the lobby before announcing his plans to turn in early.Each man had his own room and bathroom, Watt's was situated between Cornelius and Antunes.
The thing was, Watt had been hoping to be alonewithCornelius.
A few hours after they settled into their rooms, Watt left Maggie dozing on the bed and quietly knocked on Cornelius’ door.It was long after supper and Watt had changed into sleeping clothes, he didn’t think much of his attire until Cornelius opened the door.He was still dressed in his traveling clothes, the top few buttons of his shirt were undone and suspenders hung loose off his shoulders.His hair was a mess, sticking up in all directions.His face was flush, and his eyes were surprisingly hard.Despite his cold expression, Cornelius hoarsely asked, “What’s wrong?”
Watt’s heart stuttered.“Nothing, nothing’s wrong.I—” He cleared his throat.“Could I come in?”
