Page 5 of The Voice of Wild Places
“In fact, I am.”Nina Fawcett smiled, glancing down at their still joined hands with a raised brow.
Cornelius’ cheeks flushed and he released her hand.He took hold of his cane leaning against the podium, then gestured towards the door.“Please, this way, I’ve some coffee in my office, it’s just a few halls over.”
Mrs.Fawcett nodded, following as he led the way.“That would be splendid.I hope you don’t mind, but I’m accompanied by a like-minded colleague of mine.He’s an avid follower of your work, actually.”
If the room became any hotter, Cornelius might evaporate.“Oh, not at all.Who—"
They stepped into the hall and veered to the right, revealing Watt Johnson standing at parade rest.He stared at a photo on the wall, and the right side of his face was shrouded in furious red, purple, and blue.His nose was clearly shattered, but Cornelius knew for a fact that it wasn’t the first time that strong bridge had been fractured.He looked all the better for it, of course.He looked painfully familiar, aged but still recognizable as the boy Cornelius had once obsessed over.There were more wrinkles, bulk, and last night Cornelius had noticed the top part of his left pinky finger was missing.Today, he noticed the various scars on the backs of his hands.But he was still handsome.
Still Watt Johnson.
He’d always had the casually rugged and handsome look down pat, and the worst part was he never had to try.Unlike Cornelius, who picked every article of clothing with great care.Watt wore a gray three-piece suit done in herringbone tweed, collared by a strange dirt brown bow tie, and fancy capped oxfords.The outfit was exquisite, but Watt’s bed tousled hair and two day old beard contrasted the beauty of it.Cornelius owned one formal suit, and he hardly wore it.Today was no exception, and he’d never felt more under dressed.Slacks too tight around the high waist, the pinstripes on his vest too odd and the muslin of his white long sleeve too heavy.
He told himself the discomfort was due to Nina’s presence, not Watt’s.
Upon seeing the pair exit the lecture hall Watt turned to face them, disrupting Cornelius’ brief observations.Watt joined Nina’s side and, like nothing had ever happened between them, extended his hand to Cornelius.He met Cornelius’ eye, but just barely.Accent softer than his words, he said, “Watt Johnson.It’s a pleasure to meet you, Dr.Sawyer.I hope we’re not imposing on your schedule.”
Violence was a near, seductive thing.Cornelius had to beat down the part of himself that wanted to run, to fight, to scream.How dare he.Howdarehe.
Why—was last night—why?
Pressured by Mrs.Fawcett’s presence, Cornelius took Watt’s hand, channeling all his strength into the shake.“Dr.Johnson, not at all.Please, right this way.”
Watt flinched, but whether it was from the venom in Cornelius’ voice or his grip, it was unclear.Cornelius led the way to his office, thankfully he’d brought his cane with him today and it was a short walk.No one in the halls paid any mind to him, per usual.He passed Esther’s office, but the door was closed.Not that she could do anything to save him from the impending train wreck.Mason was milling about outside his office, and he heralded Cornelius a warm greeting.
“Sawyer, good to see you,” J.Alden Mason said, pumping Cornelius’ hand vigorously.He preferred J to John, and Cornelius never had a problem with respecting preferences.He was a thin and hardened man, with excellent hair and a thick nose.His eyes flicked to Cornelius’ black eye, then his cane.He usually needed it a few days a week, so it wasn’t uncommon.Perhaps paired with the black eye, it told a story of a greater pain.“Alright there, son?”
Cornelius smiled, despite his nerves.“Morning sir, I’m fine, thank you.”
“Good, good.”J nodded, crinkled eyes bright, and his mustache twitched as his gaze drifted to Nina and Watt.Recognition upturned his features, and he shook Watt’s hand with the same energy he had Cornelius’.“Dr.Johnson!What a pleasant surprise.Don’t tell me you made the mistake of debating with Sawyer here.”J gestured between Watt and Cornelius’ faces.
Watt transformed in that moment, confident with a blinding cocksure smile.His Transatlantic accent became proud and smooth as he said, “It’s good to see you again Chief, it’s been too long.And no, I haven’t had the opportunity.”He glanced at Cornelius with that stupid fake smile, then back to J.“Frank sends his best, by the way.Speck too.”
“That it has, oh do tell them hello for me, will you?And Mrs.Fawcett, is it?What a pleasure to meet you.”He was far more delicate when shaking Nina’s hand, and if Cornelius wasn’t mistaken, there was a slight flush to his cheeks.Which was understandable, for Nina was likely around the same age as him and quite handsome.And widowed.
Nina said, “Oh, the pleasure is mine.I hear you are a talented curator of this fine establishment.”
“Indeed, but one of many I assure you.I oversee the American section.”
Nina smiled, and there was something conspiratorial about it.“And is it true that some of these curators are women?”
Mason returned her smile.“Of course, of course.”His gaze flicked to Cornelius briefly, then back to Nina and Watt.“I’m not sure what business you have, but if you would like I could arrange for you to meet with our newly appointed Egyptian Curator, Ms.Mazur.I think you especially would enjoy those exhibits, Dr.Johnson.”
“If it pleases Mrs.Fawcett, then I would be happy to oblige,” Watt said, bowing his head slightly.
Nina laughed.“That would be splendid.Will you be available in say … an hour or so?We can work out the details then.”
Cornelius’ throat burned as he listened to the conversation spin out of control.There were too many coinciding tangents, the social circles of Watt’s life and Cornelius’ colliding with such violent force that it made his head ache.Mason, a well known anthropological titan of America, was well acquainted with Boas, Watt’s mentor and America’s other great mind of anthropology.As such, Cornelius had heard quite a bit about Boas’ prodigy, archaeologist turned anthropologist Watt Johnson, all without having to search for him.All withoutwantingto hear a damn word about him.
Cornelius had managed to put on a good face back then, and he did so now.He liked Mason, was grateful that the man allowed him onto the tail end of his Colombian expedition after Cornelius had fled Ur, even if their trip together ended in a snake bite that changed the trajectory of his life.It wasn’t Mason’s fault, even if the man still looked at Cornelius with pity in his eyes, like he’d wronged Cornelius greatly.
As the others spoke, he hastily tried to make connections between Watt’s visit last night, and today.Was he scouting Cornelius out?And for what?To talk about archaeology?Thestars?
That didn’t sit right, and Cornelius tried another angle.Perhaps Watt truly had no idea that Dr.Cornelius Sawyer and his precious Annie were one and the same, and last night was an accident.A pure coincidence.He’d never told Watt his new last name, after all, only revealed his first name to him.Watt had come to Philadelphia for a meeting with Cornelius Sawyer, prematurely met him, and recognized him as a former friend.
No, he’d seen too much to believe in nonsense like coincidences.
They said farewell to Mason, who watched them go with a gleam in his eye that suggested he knew far more about their ‘business’ than he let on.
