Page 85 of The Voice of Wild Places
Cornelius caught a glimpse of Watt’s expression through the cloud of fluttering wings, eyes swollen from crying and lips parted with no small bit of wonder.If this moment wasn’t a sign, Cornelius wasn’t sure what was.He had to get to Watt.
The stone tower resided at the tip of the island, leaving only a small rocky shelf all around it.Cornelius was disappointed he couldn't find a way inside the mysterious construction, the stone was smooth all the way around with no door, only arch shaped windows too high up for him to reach.Maybe on a day he'd better use of his body, and a ladder.He was too focused on surviving to think much more about it.The island's tip overhung the falls, making it the perfect launching point.Cornelius limped towards the point, and his movements went unnoticed until he slipped and nearly fell into the rapids before he was ready.Maggie barked in response, and was followed by a shout of protest.
Cornelius looked over his shoulder to see Watt frantically waving his arms and shouting Cornelius’ name, his figure partially blocked by the tail end of the kaleidoscope.The exact syllables were lost to the wind, but the shape of his name was hard to miss on Watt’s lips.Cornelius forced a bold smile he didn’t quite feel, and shouted, “I’ll see you down there!”
He turned back to the task at hand, focusing on the rock at his feet.He shimmied around the tower, clutching at the rough stone with his stinging fingertips for dear life before making it to the shelf that faced the falls.His heart pounded in his ears, and exhilaration lightened the pressure in his lungs.The view was astonishing.Tons upon tons of water rushed on either side of him, crashing to the river below which stretched on for miles upon miles.Jungle, marshes, galley forests, fields, and eventual cerrado unfurled before him.He took a moment to soak it all in.Brazil, and all her beauty.All the things she had already given Cornelius.Friends.Adventure.Peace.But most importantly, himself.If he died, drowned or otherwise, at least his heart was whole again and his soul was at ease.
There wasn’t much room for a running start, so without much ado Cornelius shoved off the pillar, launching himself into the falls.
His dive was by no means graceful, but no bones broke when he made an impact with the water.
He crashed through the surface like a damned sturgeon, sinking deep beneath the tumultuous curtain.
There was nothing but water in every direction, the unexpected depth bode well for his landing but not for kicking off bottom.
Pain rocketed through his entire body as he kicked, pedaling an imaginary bicycle that would not lift him no matter how hard he pulled and pushed at the river with his hands.Every time the surface was within reach, the waterfall's curtain shoved him back under.He couldn’t get away from it, stuck in place as if forced there by a magnet.In fact, his efforts were so futile that he couldn’t maintain a vertical position.He began to sink.
The light from above dimmed, and Cornelius’ lungs ached with the sudden urge to cough.Panic exploded in his heart, and a sensation flashed over his body like the worst cold chill he’d ever felt, but with all the heat of the sun.His limbs weakened, refusing to cooperate with his will.His body began to convulse with the need to expel his lungs.This was it.He was going to drown.He—
A familiar hand slapped against his knuckles.Then his fingertips.Cornelius forced all his remaining energy into reaching.They slipped and searched for each other, and a sob crashed through Cornelius’ defenses protecting his lungs.He began to choke, and his muscles spasmed with the intrusion.
Arms interlocked, fingers digging into flesh with a bruising surety.A second of relief overwhelmed everything else, even the water overfilling his lungs.
His arm was promptly yanked out of its socket, the pain sudden and fierce but secondary to his lungs, leg, and head.To everything, really.
By the time they broke the surface, Cornelius’ vision had given way to darkness, and consciousness was only a thread of an idea.What he did remember, later, was the vague impression of hard ground, and Watt sobbing.
He did not remember powerful thrusting of hands upon breastbone and the way his sternum creaked, or how Watt briefly paused before releasing a string of curses followed by, “I’m sorry.I'm so sorry.”
He was not aware of Watt slicing his shirt and bandeau down the middle, or the tears crashing onto his bare chest.When hands met breastbone again, they pumped with an efficiency that broke bones in an effort to reach Cornelius’ heart.After a pause, air was forced down his throat in two long bursts.Water escaped his lungs and chased after the reviving lips, bubbling out of Cornelius like a spring.He coughed, hacking until there was nothing left to do but retch.
Finally, and with great difficulty, Cornelius breathed.It hurt like hell, and the pain was enough to bring him back under.He took hold of consciousness by the throat, stealing a look at his savior before passing out.
Watt stared down at him, soaking wet and glistening beneath the morning sun.He was tauter than a bowstring, his thick brows furrowed together and his eyes pinched by harsh lines.A lush canopy framed one side of him, and a cloudless sky accentuated the other.It was more colors more than anything else, out of focus compared to the sheer detail and familiar landmarks in Watt’s face.
“You’re beautiful.”Cornelius tried.
While it was long and mostly incoherent, Watt seemed to get the gist of it.
He relaxed, if only a fraction.“And you’re impossible, Cornelius Sawyer.Damned impossible.”He bent down awkwardly, pressing a kiss to Cornelius’ forehead.“Thank God you’re alright.I—oh, your shirt.I—I had to—here.”
Watt took off his shirt and draped it over Cornelius' chest, only to find he'd already fallen asleep.
August
?
Damn Impressive
August,1930
Over the years, it became increasingly difficult for Cornelius to blackout.When he did, he usually took his time coming back to himself the next day.But this time, the moment he teased the edges of wakefulness, consciousness electrified him.Literally, his whole body jolted with the sudden realization it was awake.Alive.
Cornelius released a shaky exhale, and his body greeted him with waves of pain.He opened his eyes, first taking in the nearly full moon peeking around the edge of a canopy … no, well not just canopy.There was a thick roof over his head, constructed of palms and makeshift beams.The walls around him were secure, and he lay upon something familiar.Canvas, maybe.He shifted his head to better see Watt sitting beside him, cross-legged with his chin tucked against his chest.He occupied the single open side of the shelter, the entrance big enough for them to pass through but no more.Moonlight reflected off the coursing river and wet stones that were a short distance beyond Watt, and illuminated him with an unnatural brightness.
The watercolor set that Cornelius had gifted him was in his lap.Blue paint was smudged all over his fingers, which still clutched at his work and brush despite his ragged snores.Cornelius' heart skipped a beat, which reminded him of how it had struggled alongside his lungs.Of how for a moment there, it felt like it had stopped beating.His body was heavy, but his chest especially.Each breath was laborious, like he was dredging air from mud.Instead of reaching for Watt like he wanted to, he cataloged the ways his friend had changed since the last time he saw him.
His hair had been bleached to a light gold during his time in the sun, as had the lengthy beard which was thin and patchy in places, no longer dark.Watt's hair was damp and uncombed, which had the knotted ends curling against his shoulders.His complexion had darkened greatly, and numerous sunspots and freckles decorated his hollow face and flushed neck.He was thin and flecked with injuries, scratches and welts and bites and even a nasty slice through his right brow that had been left to heal the hard way, leaving the scar angry and rough.If Cornelius had to guess, Watt was lucky he hadn't lost the eye.
