The Explorer's Apprentice

43:The Rich...the Poor...& Those Who Can't Tell the Difference

Eleanor Brown

“I just wanted to say…uh…” Eleanor takes in a deep breath, and her fingers fidget. She can’t believe her own stupidity. She just can’t believe it. How on earth could she have gotten this far—she had managed to make her way down to the steerage decks, inconspicuously of course, ask around a few friendly faces, and she even had time to fluff her curls a bit (though why she felt inclined to do this, she can’t quite say)—and now, now when she’s finally found him, after all she’s already done, she can’t seem to speak. It’s as if there’s a giant, horrible monster in the pit of her throat, eating up all of her words before they can exit her mouth. “Uh…”

Fabrizio smiles. It’s so pretty, so real. That’s one of the things she loves—likes—most about him. He’s got such a nice mouth, such a glorious grin. His lips are full and his teeth are shiny and white. “Yes….” He coaxes. “Maybe you—“

“I’m sorry!” There. There, I said it. Her words come out like a mixed up puzzle. Eleanor tries to swallow, but she can’t. She can hardly even breathe. She’d thought that getting the words out would make the conversation easier—like now that she’s finally said what she’s come to say, she won’t be so terribly, unnecessarily nervous.

Except that she is. And she’s beginning to hate herself for it.

Fabrizio nods, not saying anything, as if he expects her to say more. The lovely little smile never leaves his lips. In fact, it gets bigger. His eyes get wider. And, against all impossibilities, Eleanor swears that they even get greener. It’s the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen. Ever.

“For uh…for leavin’ you, last night.” More sorry than you’ll ever know. Just the thought of his enchanting voice calling after her as if she were important, as she darted up the stairs and away from the best night of her life—it makes her heart scream. “I honestly didn’t mean…I just…” I just what? What? What could I possibly say to fix this? The truth is definitely out of the question, she doesn’t even know how to word the truth. I left because I lied, Fabrizio. I’m not openin’ up a restaurant, or fulfillin’ dreams, or doin’ anythin’ like that. I’m inheritin’ a farm, all on my own, and I’m not allowed to ever get married or anythin’. I left because your eyes are too pretty and your voice is so lovely and low that my heart explodes. Eleanor almost laughs. Yes, the truth is way out of the question. “I just….”

“It’s okay!” The beautiful boy besides her laughs, and it’s like a thousand clean bells. “Really, it’s okay. We put it behind us now, yes?”

Eleanor smiles. Her heart flutters, but it feels good now. It feels…happy. “Yes.” Her smile is so big that it hurts her cheeks, but this feels good, too. She feels relived. She can finally breathe again, and her breath comes back in steady little gasps. Her palms are still so sweaty, but she can finally unclench them. It’s okay now…it’s okay because he said it would be. And somehow, when she looks into those giant green pools of his, she can’t help but believe anything he says. It’s like a spell.

She looks down at his hands, masculine and strong, and she notices how much they fidget. The two sit side-by-side, on a cozy little white bench, overlooking the sea.  The wind’s gotten stronger since Eleanor was with Georgia, about an hour before, but it feels so refreshing, so clean.

“What are ya doin’?” Eleanor asks, nudging Fabrizio gently with her shoulder. She cranes her neck and peaks down into his lap. Between his left thumb and index finger is something sharp, something shiny that reflects off the sun.

She watches his cheeks blush bright pink, and she can’t help but giggle. So I’m not the only one who gets uneasy. “Oh…uh…” he lets out a small, nervous chuckle. “Is nothing really…I—“

But Eleanor feels too confident, suddenly, too spontaneous to take ‘nothing’ for an answer when there is clearly something in the palms of his cupped hands. She loves how rambunctious she feels with this boy. She feels so free, like she can say absolutely anything, be absolutely anyone she wants, and it’ll be okay. “Nothin’?” She takes her hands and places them atop his, opening them up slowly. His skin is so soft, like a daisy.

Wow.                                                                                           

Eleanor can hardly believe her wide eyes. She’s never seen anything like this. She’s never seen an inanimate object as beautiful or glorious as this.

“Did you…did you do this?” She can hardly talk, her breath has literally been taken away. It’s not that she’s surprised at his skill—she wouldn’t be surprised if Fabrizio could paint the mood. He seems like the kind of boy who could create miracles. But this…it’s just so beautiful, so unearthly that she just can’t conceive it.

In his lap is a small, wooden dolphin, upright as if in the middle of a leap for joy. It’s so glorious—every detail has been perfected, from the tip of its nose to the smooth edge of its powerful tail. Even the creature’s eyes seem so full of emotion—so full of freedom and peace. Eleanor touches it’s back gently with her index finger. It’s so smooth, like butter, without a single bump of blemish. Sort of like Fabrizio’s  voice.

“Yes,” he says softly, his gaze fixed on his fidgeting feet. He runs an anxious hand through his dark curls.  “I…uh…I like to carve. I just started, though, so I’m not very good, I just—“

“Not very good?” Her sudden and loud outburst makes him jump. Finally he looks up at her. His brows are raised. “Not very good?”  She stands.

“Well…I just started, I mean, I want to get better, I will get better…I hope, I just, I want to—“

And then just like that, the spunk she feels, the spontaneous emotions and thrill that Fabrizio seems to be letting loose within her, have just reached an all-time high. Eleanor feels so empowered, so in control. She’s never felt like this before. For once in her entire life, she gets to choose. For once, she gets a tiny taste of freedom, and it taste beautiful. And for once, she knows exactly what needs to be done next.

She kisses him.

Long and hard, like she needs him more than air. And, in a way, she does. It’s beautiful. It’s wonderful. He tastes like gumdrops and honey. It makes her forget about everything—the farm, her father, family—it’s as if for one, beautiful moment, she’s allowed to be selfish, and it feels absolutely okay. Absolutely perfect. She’s never kissed anyone in her entire life, so she’s surprised that she knows what to do. But she does, and it feels so natural that she doesn’t even have room in her bubbly, happy brain to second-guess it. She feels so at home. Like she was meant to do this, against all odds, like she was meant to embrace this beautiful, amazing boy.

And when she pulls away, his eyes are wide, and his smile is magnificent. And she knows—she knows—that he feels it, too. He feels the connection. He knows that this is where they belong.  Eleanor puts a hand on his lips. She loves the way his mouth feels. So soft, so gentle, so lovely….When she touches him, it’s like a little lightning bolt has been shot up her arm. But she doesn’t look away. “This is amazing, Fabrizio.”

He nods. His voice is barely a whisper, but it’s strong and true. “Yes.”

And neither of them is sure of whether she means of the carving, or something much more.