Pretty Snake #2
'Happy Birthday, Watt. I hope we find what you're looking for, and this will help you capture the full beauty of it all.'
Watt swallowed against the lump building in his throat and glanced up, but Cornelius was not in immediate sight.
He treated the beautiful yellow paper with as much care as he did the brown paper, and after a minute or so he was presented with three items. First was a sketchpad, spiral bound with a black covering Watt guessed was cotton, but the raised texture threw him off.
There were no distinguishable markings, no branding.
It was plain, but well made and durable.
Small enough to fit in his pocket, but only just. Watt ran his thumb over the edges of medium weight paper, noting the off white color.
Enough to last him a good while, if he was careful.
The sketchbook he had now was painfully full, there were only two pages left which he'd been saving for the site.
The second item was a hefty box of pencils.
Regular pencils, not mechanical ones or something designed especially for artists.
They were just like the ones Watt had, yellow with a square lead.
They were all he cared to use, and had said so in passing one day when Cornelius asked about it.
When had the been … S?o Paulo? Watt smiled, and set them aside with the sketchpad.
Last was a black lacquered tin, a bit larger than a pencil case.
There were some scratches along the bottom, and the corners of the tin were worn as well.
The lid had four equally sized square domes.
Watt opened the lid, revealing a metal plate on a hinge.
A paper sticker on the plate proclaimed the object to be Windsor & Newton, made in England.
He folded the plate back, revealing a palette of watercolors in the bottom of the tin.
Three rows, two of which were entirely full while the middle was only half full.
Twenty six colors in all, with a small area set aside for brushes.
There were two, one with a fine tip and another that was slightly thicker.
Watt touched the hairs of the fine brush, then his fingers wandered to the small squares that beheld dry pools of color.
He sat there, staring down at the gifts in his lap. Long enough to blink away the tears pricking his eyes, and swallow the hot emotion congesting his throat.
When Watt finally prepared for the day and joined the others for breakfast, he found himself unable to stop smiling.
Severino had a breakfast of condensed milk, papaya, and oats, waiting for him.
He took one look at Watt, then grinned. He elbowed Cornelius, then nodded to Watt. “Hey, what'd you give him?”
Cornelius frowned at Severino, then looked hesitantly at Watt. Upon seeing his face, he scowled at Watt. “Are you ready to go?”
Watt closed the short distance between them and hugged Cornelius. He stiffened, but when Watt started to pull away Cornelius hugged him back with great force. Watt had to bend down to rest his chin on Cornelius' shoulder, but the ache in his spine was worth it. He whispered, “Thank you.”
Cornelius squeezed Watt once, then pulled back and dusted himself off. He flicked a quick look at Severino and Ant?nio who were eating together, then gave Watt a gentle shove. “Hurry up and eat so we can get going.”
At first Cornelius and Severino took the lead, but eventually Severino fell back with Ant?nio and Watt to check out his new gifts.
Ant?nio was especially enamored with the watercolors, and Watt made a mental note to test them out with him later.
Maggie trotted alongside Cornelius, and Watt was just starting to regain control of his smile when Cornelius looked back at him.
Cornelius shook his head, which did nothing to hide his own escaped smile, and continued leading the way.
June 12th, 1930
Cornelius knew that when taking the word of an archaeologist, you had to accept it with a grain of salt for they were some of the most optimistic people around. Thankfully, Joaquim and Severino had not been exaggerating regarding the scale of their project.
Blisters plagued Cornelius’ feet, and his hip screamed in solidarity with his knee.
Walking was a generous term for what he’d been doing, and his brain was ablaze with frustration and exhaustion.
He took a guilty sort of comfort in the fact that he was not alone in his struggles.
Watt's birthday had bought them a temporary reprieve from the foul mood they'd all been stewing in, but it was only that. Temporary.
Watt was exhausted. Completely, and utterly, exhausted.
His eyes were bruised and swollen, and he was covered in bites.
The bugs wouldn’t leave him alone no matter what precautions they took, and their insistence was taking their toll on his sanity.
The infected bite under his arm was healing, but there were dozens of others vying to be next for infection.
He hardly spoke, and when he did it was to the point.
Yes, no. Maybe. Fuck off. That last one he’d said to Cornelius in the dead of night, when insomnia had brought them together and made Cornelius say ridiculous things which made Watt laugh even if he hadn't wanted to.
Severino and Ant?nio were in better shape than either Watt or Cornelius, but they were exhausted and plagued by insects too.
They came upon the site at noon, drenched in sweat and flies. The unmistakable noise of humans preceded the sight, for there was an enormous hill to crest. Regardless of this last obstacle, Severino laughed hoarsely. “We’ve made it.”
Cornelius could have wept with relief, and he tried not to think too far ahead in fear of his body giving up its remaining adrenaline in anticipation of rest. Maggie panted heavily, and Cornelius’ own breath sawed in and out of him.
Severino got a little ahead of them, while Ant?nio kept Cornelius and Watt company as they grappled with the incline.
Ant?nio was constantly looking out for Cornelius, and it was becoming more difficult to be angry with him about it considering the number of times he kept Cornelius from falling.
He'd even stopped telling Watt off, allowing his companions to fortify him.
Without them, he surely would have curled up and died somewhere along the way.
The hill was steep, embedded with rocks and decorated with thick vegetation.
There was a vague trail where the underbrush had been thinned, the path Severino had carved on the way out.
Despite this, Severino still had to work at some new growth with his machete.
By the time they reached the peak, Cornelius was about ready to fall backwards.
Severino was already halfway down the other side, which was far more bare than what they’d climbed so far.
It wasn’t quite a cliff, but sheer enough it would’ve been easy to lose your footing and crash all the way to the bottom.
Watt, Cornelius, and Ant?nio stood together, chests heaving as they watched Severino sprint ahead.
It wasn't just simple relief from finding camp after so long in the wild.
To Severino, this was a homecoming. This was where he belonged, deep in the jungle with other like minded people.
With Joaquim, who Cornelius strongly suspected was a kindred spirit.
Cornelius smiled, and to Watt he said, “You know, I don’t think I’ve thanked you yet.”
“For what?” Watt asked, bewildered.
Cornelius chuckled, leaning against his side. “Inviting me.”
Watt laughed, a wholehearted sound that shook his body and in turn, Cornelius’. “Don’t thank me yet, aventurier.”
Cornelius grinned. He looked over at Ant?nio and asked, “Are you ready for this?”
Ant?nio shook his head, looking unusually apprehensive. Watt reached around Cornelius and took a hold of Ant?nio's shoulder, squeezing gently. “Come on.”
They made it down the hill together, taking it slow and steady.
Cornelius felt twelve years old all over again, giddy and on the precipice of something new.
Besides the pain wracking his body, of course.
The trees weren’t as thick down here, but it was still rocky and overgrown with grass and ferns.
They followed Maggie, whose sense of direction hadn’t led Cornelius into any holes yet.
Ahead, a clearing littered with crumbling stone construction awaited them.
Great stone arches and avenues with great walls were among the visible architecture, along with circular raised areas that reminded him of how the huts were situated in Colombia, in areas of high runoff.
Cornelius looked back over his shoulder, tracing the small mounds and valleys they’d already passed without a thought.
Would they find more bones of buildings beneath the soil?
“Oh,” Watt said, his voice thin.
“Yes,” Cornelius whispered.
It was hard to say what was natural and what was not, for each mound and valley would have to be investigated, but even the central area seemed large enough to host a small village, once upon a time. The real question was, how old was this place? Decades? Centuries?
After passing through most of the ruins, they found the present day encampment settled on what appeared to be the far end of the site.
Severino stood in the midst of a large group of people, embracing a man much shorter than himself.
They patted each other on the back, cheeks flushed and smiles wide.
Heads turned their way as they approached, mostly curious and friendly if not indifferent.
Cornelius recognized the Carmines, and Anderson.
He felt unsure about the former, and irritated by the latter.
He'd somehow forgotten about Andrea in the past few weeks, but now his temper flared with renewed vigor.