Queer Sort #2
“Say, where is Ant?nio?” Cornelius asked suddenly, adjusting his glasses as he looked around.
“Oh, he’s with Benedito and Ana,” Terezinna said, smiling a little. “They were discussing the habits of the local jaguars last I heard.”
“Jaguars?” Watt asked, his skin prickling.
“Oh yes, there’s a prowl of them to the north. But don’t worry, they don’t come into camp.” Nair waved a dismissive hand, missing the glance shared between Watt and Cornelius.
Good to know they’d be entering jaguar country, but then again they’d been passing in and out of jaguar territory for months and hadn’t encountered one yet.
“Did you encounter any jaguars on your way in? Or any other creatures?” Rowland asked.
And so Cornelius began to tell the story of where they’d been.
Only then did Watt realize the man had smoothly avoided the earlier question regarding their future.
He listened as Cornelius spoke of the wondrous French architecture of Rio, the industrious S?o Paulo, the venomous Butantan Institute, and the growing Cuiabá.
He did not mention their encounter with Senhor Galv?o, and Cornelius was subdued but informative when telling them about their stay with the Bacairy.
By the time it was all said and done, the group was fully enamored with him.
All except Andrea, of course. “And tell me dear Cornelius, were you able to broaden your horizons during your journey? Adopt a love for something new besides … oh, what was it you read all the time back at Ur? Oh yes, that children’s novel, the Wonderful Wizard of Oz.”
“Oh, I love that story!” Terezinna exclaimed, which brought a hesitant smile to Cornelius’ lips.
Nair looked between him and Terezinna. “I’m afraid I haven’t. But a … wizard? That sounds interesting.”
Cornelius lazily inclined his head. “I find there’s nothing wrong with old favorites, and adults can find much to learn from children’s stories. Some of us may have missed the lessons the first time.”
Andrea grinned. He shifted his attention to Watt, which pricked every one of his nerves.
“Are you a friend of Dorothy, too?” Andrea asked, eyes tracking up and down Watt's frame. “I never pinned you for one, but …” His eyes drifted to Cornelius, then back again. Cornelius’ face reddened, and he opened his mouth.
Heat flushed over Watt's body not dissimilar to the uncomfortable way he'd felt back in Maxine's.
Anderson grumbled and said, “All right, that’s enough.”
Francesca shook her head, hiding what could’ve been a smile.
Cornelius shot her a look, then pinned Andrea with a seconds-long glare.
He stood, movements jerky and stiff, his hands balled into fists.
“I think I’ll turn in for the night.” He nodded to the others, saving Watt for last. He said, “Good evening,” and fled like a man with a demon on his heels.
Watt glanced between his retreating back and Andrea, unsure what just happened.
He’d never seen Cornelius turn away from conflict before.
Anderson stared at the fire, his mouth set in a firm, disapproving line.
Without looking at Andrea he said, “I thought you would have developed some tact by now Andrea, and respect for others. Clearly, I was wrong.” He glanced at Watt once, his gaze slightly curious.
He looked close to asking a question, and Watt’s stomach dropped.
Without Cornelius by his side, he felt out of his depth surrounded by these people.
Instead, Anderson only stretched his arms overhead, then stood and said farewell for the evening.
Rowland did the same, offering Watt a downcast smile before leaving.
Watt followed suit, not wanting any further part in Andrea’s games.
He’d never minded Francesca when they worked together, but something in the way she’d smiled after Andrea’s question had made him uneasy.
Watt watched the older men as they walked ahead of him, their steps in sync and arms brushing.
He was startled when Anderson glanced back at him, offering a quick smile before disappearing into the tent he evidently shared with Rowland.
Made sense, they were of the same age and same easy going demeanor.
When Watt returned with Maggie to their tent, Cornelius was laid out on his cot, eyes closed and hands tucked behind his head. If it weren’t for the rapid rise and fall of his chest, Watt would’ve thought him asleep. He cracked an eye at Watt, then closed it and asked, “Everything alright?”
Watt just about collapsed onto his own cot, landing face first onto the pillow.
He groaned. It wasn’t a mattress, or even halfway comfortable, but right then it felt like the best thing in the world.
Anything but the ground. Maggie laid down on the pallet beside his cot with a groan.
Muffled, Watt said, “I feel like I should be asking you that.”
Cornelius scoffed. “He just gets under my skin.”
“I couldn’t tell.”
“Asshole.”
Watt laughed into his pillow, then turned his face towards Cornelius. He’d rolled onto his side and was staring back at Watt with a tender expression. There was about four feet between their cots, but it felt like nothing due to the way Cornelius was smiling at him. It was soft, but so real.
That smile faded, and Cornelius said, “They didn’t … say anything to you?”
Watt tried to shake his head, but the pillow caught most of the movement and his hair ended up doing most of the shaking.
He felt so heavy, like a great weight was pushing down upon him.
Or maybe it was coming off, now that they’d finally settled in after such a long day, a long journey. God, he was tired.
Cornelius made a soft noise of assent.
“Cornelius … what’d he mean? What was he asking me?”
Cornelius didn’t answer.
Watt opened his eyes. Ah, that was difficult. When had they closed? With great effort, he mumbled, “Cornelius.”
Cornelius sighed. In a whisper, he said, “It’s a … euphemism. For people of our sort. Oz is a queer sort of place, you know.”
“Men who like men?” Watt asked, surprise coloring his groggy voice.
Cornelius coughed. “Hells, you are terrible at this. Yes, but not only. Women and … you know. Other women.”
“Andrea likes—”
“Watt, for hell’s sake, keep it down.”
Watt fell silent, his mind tripping over itself. Andrea had been asking if Watt was a friend of Dorothy. No, he’d said, ‘are you a friend of Dorothy, too?’
That implied a kinship between him and Cornelius, and by the knowing look in Francesca’s eye, maybe her too. And Anderson had recognized the phrase, was he …?
Watt felt his world shift, just a little bit.
June 30th, 1930
Two and a half weeks.
They’d been there for two and a half weeks, and Cornelius had successfully avoided being alone with Andrea for the entirety of it.
Watt, if possible, had clung to Cornelius even more so than he had in Bacairy Post. Whereas before he thought it peculiar, now he was simply grateful.
Watt’s constant presence made the experience actually enjoyable, and for a short time Cornelius forgot their true purpose.
He got on incredibly well with Joaquim, and he admired how the man efficiently managed his site and the people within it.
He was obviously a leader people turned to, but it never seemed like he was superior to the rest of the team, for he did the dirty work in addition to the rest. There were two active dig sites in the area, the tumuli and its surrounding urn field, and the village itself.
They found the village and its numerous constructions last year, and so they were further along there.
The urn field was another matter, however.
This is where Joaquim placed Watt and Cornelius, working beside Thomas, Benedito, Ant?nio, and Francesca.
She examined the layers that Cornelius and the others gently unearthed, and despite that first night Cornelius found that he didn’t mind Francesca.
She was professional and pleasant enough, much unlike her brother.
Or unlike how he usually was. Andrea hadn’t insulted, bothered, or even so much as looked at Cornelius funny since that first night.
He was genial, respectful, and confusing.
He was acting like the man that Cornelius had first met, and cared for.
Cornelius tried not to look into the act too closely, waiting for Andrea to show his true colors once again.
The performance was broken on a night like any other.
After working since six in the morning, the group called it a day at six in the evening, abandoning work in favor of washing up and regrouping for dinner.
Usually most of the crew went out to the bonfire after filling their bellies, but Ant?nio and Benedito stayed behind in the canteen to socialize, and so Watt and Cornelius often did too.
Sometimes Charles and Thomas stayed behind, the ladies too, but tonight they all attended the fire.
Out there instruments were played and stories told, the types of which varied greatly.
Cornelius found himself going out there more despite Andrea’s presence, devouring the high energy from the others.
But tonight he was craving the quiet company of Benedito’s group.
The intern still seemed baffled by his sudden flock of companions, but took it in stride.
Tonight, Benedito, Ant?nio, and Watt discussed the implications of something or other, while Cornelius pretended to listen.
His mind was elsewhere, in places it shouldn’t have been.