C’mere Girl #2
Cornelius straightened from where he had been dipping his hands into the edges of the Southern Atlantic. He didn’t hesitate before whistling and calling out, “Maggie, c’mere girl.”
Maggie's eyes went wide, and her body tensed. She looked at Watt. He tilted his head towards the water and said, “Go get him.”
Maggie took off like a shot. Ears tucked back against her head, she galloped until reaching the water’s edge, then jumped clear over it.
She landed between Cornelius and Antunes with a great splash, dousing the men who’d previously only been wet up to their knees.
Watt laughed, and his companions did too.
Maggie chased the water as it ebbed and flowed, then proved her worth as a swimmer.
She chased after Severino, and Cornelius cheered her on.
Watt took out his book, and began to sketch.
He warmed up in the waves, the surrounding bay and rising sun.
His sketches were loose yet detailed, and they grew in depth and subject as time went on.
Pages filled with palms lining the beach and mosaic sidewalks, designs on nearly every block.
Eventually he returned to the view directly before him, forming a more serious type of drawing.
A curved bay with sand stretching for over a mile in either direction.
A good amount of time had passed, and parasols had been erected in the peripheral areas.
The focus was two men silhouetted by the distant embrace of mountains and the mid-morning sun, playing in the water with the most loyal of canines.
He bit back a smile, reveling in the diminishing lead and growing picture. He became lost in his work, and was startled when Severino dropped on the sand beside him. His legs were wet and water splattered his shirt, but he wasn’t too soaked.
“I must know her story,” Severino said, grinning as he watched Cornelius and Maggie come out of the water. “She has a certain fire, no?”
Watt liked the sound of that. He rested a hand over the page he’d been working on. “I’ve always thought so. She’s a stray. We sort of found each other one day and I …” Watt shrugged. He didn’t want to talk about this. “I couldn’t leave her.”
Antunes glanced sideways at him with an easy smile. “That’s wonderful.” He stared at Watt, and it seemed like there was something more he wanted to say. But Cornelius walked up to them with a sopping wet Maggie in tow, and the conversation broke.
He looked so happy, he and Maggie both. Her tongue hung out the side of her mouth, and her eyes were bright with a pup's spirit.
She hadn't much of a chance to be a pup, like Watt she had been put to work at a young age.
Also like Watt, she'd defied expectations and ran away from her masters.
Watt wished he could heal as quickly as she did, but then again maybe she still thought about those days.
Prior to Maggie he'd thought an animal was an animal, but the way she looked at him sometimes or helped him when he needed it most … there was some humanity in that.
“I didn’t expect to get so wet,” Cornelius said, grinning. His delight brought Watt back to the present. On a beach in Brazil, with his colleagues and his best friend. Right now, it didn't matter how rough their start had been. Right now, everything was okay.
“You? Take a look at me,” Antunes said, feigning despair.
Watt chuckled. “Joy finds us when we are least expecting it, wet or dry.”
“Who said that?” Antunes asked.
Watt lifted a shoulder, closing his book in order to hide the blush plaguing his cheeks. “Me, I suppose.”
“How true,” Cornelius said.
Watt glanced up. Cornelius was smiling. That earnest smile made Watt’s stomach lurch, which made no sense. He’d seen Cornelius smile plenty of times now. There was nothing new or different about it. But then Watt remembered he hadn’t eaten yet today. That was the likely suspect.
He was hungry, that was all.
Before they left the beach, Watt slipped off his shoes and socks.
He rolled his pant legs up and stepped into the water.
It was cold, but not drastically so. He got far enough that the water licked at his calves, and stood there.
Maggie joined his side, and she did not leave it. Together, they enjoyed the water.
After dropping Maggie off at the hotel and excavating sand from their clothes, they called for a share taxi and rode past the two and a half mile stretch encompassing Copacabana Bay.
The sand was filled with more people and parasols than the beach they’d visited before, bodies of all colors bared to the sun.
They passed the magnificent and relatively new Copacabana Hotel, a glorious and decadent piece of architecture.
Cornelius was glad they weren’t staying there, it was far too ritzy and unfamiliar, but he was also wistful.
Like many buildings in Rio, there was a distinct French influence to it.
It made him think of Dimitri and Gabriel, and his heart ached.
He’d given everyone the address of the hotel in S?o Paulo, and he planned to send his letters then.
The thought of Jimmy's sure to be scathing letter waiting for him was nerve wracking.
He hadn't the courage to tell Jimmy on the phone that he was taking a surprise trip to South America with Watt Johnson.
As they rode and Cornelius stared out the window, he imagined Jimmy's disbelief, and the resulting conversation.
'Yes Jimmy, I'm going to South America to search for a dead man with the same Watt whose father dislocated my shoulder and destroyed Papa's livelihood. No, I don't think he'll fuck me over. Why not? Well I gave him permission to leave me behind. I probably won't make it back home, love you!'
Mama had been unsurprised when he'd called to let them know, considering she had been the one to direct Watt to Cornelius, and even less so that Cornelius had decided to go.
Mama had spoken to Watt in February, he'd called on Cornelius' birthday of all days, Watt had asked for his old name and seemed to not know about Cornelius.
She had left the 'conversation' and truth up to Cornelius himself, which is why she hadn't corrected Watt.
From the safety of his apartment, Cornelius had asked her, “Why did you tell him where I live?”
“I didn't tell him where you lived, I told him where he could find you.”
“Did it not cross your mind he might've wanted to hurt me, Ma? Or that his family wanted to ruin our lives some more?”
“Honestly, dear. It's like you don't even know the boy. And you decided to go, didn't you?”
Papa had been … quiet. He'd said, “Be careful, Cornelius. You still have your cane? Do you need another?”
“No, I'm good Papa. I'll be fine, thank you.”
“Are you sure you need to go?”
Cornelius had breathed, and stared at the ceiling of Giovanni's living room. He'd said, “I feel like it's important.”
Papa clicked his tongue. “Best get to it then, son.”
“I will. Love you, Papa.”
“We love you too. Be careful.”
Cornelius sniffed. Maybe he’d send a batch before leaving Rio, write them up tonight.
To Esther, Giovanni, Dimitri and Gabriel and so on.
For as much as he struggled with people, he enjoyed being around them.
Well, the genuine and authentic sort of people, at the very least. Cornelius glanced over at his companions beside him in the taxi.
He thought Watt was asking Severino about architecture, but hadn't been paying attention to the details. It really didn't matter, get him talking about anything he liked and the man opened up like a morning glory, bashfulness aside. Cornelius felt Severino could be that sort of authentic person, and maybe Watt still was too. Hesitant optimism bloomed in Cornelius’ gut, and he thought he just might let it grow. Perhaps this journey wouldn’t be so bad after all.
They arrived at the foot of Corcovado Mountain.
Cornelius' knee and calf cramped viciously when they departed the motorcar, and he fought the pain with gritted teeth.
Together, they explored the Botanical Garden.
Severino gave a quiet but informative tour as they walked, first down Barbosa Rodrigues Alley, an avenue flanked by over a hundred trees that had all sprouted from one ancestor.
They were enormous and overwhelming, their mid-day shadows inescapable.
Cornelius shivered when passing beneath the flitting columns of darkness.
Severino said, “The Gardens were first opened to the public in the early 1800s, it was originally designed by the royalty to acclimate and grow plants from overseas. But over time its purpose changed, and now we have this park full of Brazil’s own wonderful flora and fauna, for all sorts of people to access. ”
Eventually they reached an intersection of sorts which beheld a beautiful, and enormous, cast iron fountain.
It was more of a sculpture though, depicting the Greek muses of poetry, music, science, and art.
There were multiple levels to it, and stone carved to look like rocks formed the base.
Watt seemed to have an eye for all things art, but especially sculptures.
Cornelius stood beside him and rested his hands on the railing, which surrounded the fountain.
“This is the Fountain of Muses, yes?” Watt asked.
“Chafariz das Musas, yes.” Severino nodded, his smile approving. "Are you familiar with it?”
“A bit. It was brought to the Gardens in 95', crafted in England I believe.”
“Impressive,” Severino said, and went on despite the blush in Watt's cheeks. Perhaps he was oblivious, but Cornelius wasn't sure how he could be. “It was sculpted by Herbert W. Hogg, very beautiful work, but it lived in the gardens of a villa before coming here.”
Watt nodded, but Cornelius strongly suspected that Watt had already known that.
After a little bit more admiration they began walking again, and Cornelius sidled up to Watt. “How did you know that? About the fountain?”
Watt hesitated. He said, “My mother collects artwork, she has a piece he did for the Walker Gallery.
It was before my time, but growing up I always thought it was …
I don't know, I just liked it. So I keep up with some artists I like now and then.” This last bit Watt said a bit defensively, and Cornelius elbowed him.
“Don't say that in the park too loud, might give a man a wrong idea,” Cornelius teased, then immediately went red with regret, all the way to the tips of his ears.
Watt blinked in that slow way he did when he was processing. “Say what?”
Cornelius thanked the heavens Watt was clueless. He coughed and said, “Nothing. We better—uh—catch up with Severino. Come on.”
Severino wasn't all that much ahead of them, but Watt didn't push the subject. Toucans flew between the trees and birds that reminded Cornelius of some type of quail ran through the brush. Marmosets with white tufted fur and black capuchins cried and barked, seeming to laugh at the humans as they walked past. There were ruins of an old gunpowder factory and sugar mill, and Cornelius desperately wanted to search them. But that wasn’t in the plan.
And neither was visiting Christ the Redeemer. They could barely see the distant statue perched atop Corcovado’s peak, shrouded in scaffolding and fog, it's back to them. “Do you know much about it?” Watt asked Severino, nodding to the statue.
Severino grinned. He seemed to know everything and anything, and loved to talk.
He said, “In 1888, Princess Isabel signed the Golden Law into effect while acting as regent while her father was traveling, effectively abolishing all forms of slavery in Brazil. They called her the Redemptress, and there was discussion of building a statue in her honor. Princess Isabel suggested an image of the Sacred Heart of Jesus instead, as he was the true redeemer, but the republic ended. Church and state were separated, so the idea was dropped. But In 1920, The Catholic Circle of Rio made another proposal for a great symbol to be constructed atop Corcovado, but something to bring Godliness back to Brazil. Through fundraising and donations, they got together the means to commission the statute. Construction started in 22’, they plan to have it finished later this year, actually. ”
“And who did they commission?” Watt asked, staring up at the mountain. “What’s it made from?”
“Concrete and soapstone. Heitor da Silva Costa designed the statue, and Paul Landowski sculpted the majority of it. Georghe Leonida crafted the last piece, the face. It’s all made of pieces, you see.
The head, the hands, and the torso. It’s over 90 feet tall, not including the over 20 foot pedestal. ”
“The largest art deco statue in the world. Beautiful,” Watt breathed. Cornelius found it hard to look at anything but Watt’s face turned up in wonder.