The Explorer's Apprentice

71:Trust

I do not own Jack or Rose. :)

Marley Faulkner

The clear, blue water eats away at the staircase quickly. One by one, minute by minute, each white stair is completely submerged under the ocean.

Marley’s breath is caught in her throat at the sight and she lets out a little gasp.

One…two…three…four…

She makes her way down the stairs slowly but diligently, holding onto the cold rail for support. The water looms before her like an endless, unforgiving void.

Five.

The ocean grasps ahold of her body like a thousand icy fingers of death. It’s absolutely stunning. “Oh my God…” she whispers to no one, her voice trembling with pure astonishment, above all else. She pulls off her pink, embroidered jacket and sets it aside forever. She reaches overhead for the pipe atop the ceiling with one hand, holds on tightly to the ax with the other, and she pulls herself into the submerged hallway. Within minutes, her legs begin to feel numb.

Emergency lights explode from water contact only inches away from her hands and face.

The ship moans at its tragic defeat to the ever powerful sea, and the sound beats on Marley’s pink ears.

She reaches a small hill in the hall.  It’s enough to allow her to let go of the pipe and walk. The water scrapes against her chest.  She holds the ax above her head to keep it from holding her back, but her arms shiver so greatly that Marley prays she won’t drop it.

“Jack!” She calls. By now, she’s practically memorized where the very room is. Furniture flows out like giant fish, blocking her path, and Marley lowers the ax to move them away. She enters the room quickly, running on her heart’s determination even though her body has long since run out of energy.

He stands on the desk she’d searched through earlier, his hair tousled, his breath shaky, his skin moist from sweat, but his eyes glow warmly and gaze at her adoringly—absolutely beautiful.

“Will this do?” She asks, holding up the heavy ax for him to see.

He places his hands as far apart as they’ll go, straining the small chain on the pole.  “I guess we’ll have to find out, come on.”

Marley makes her way towards him, holding the ax as careful as she can in shivering fingers. She’s never done anything like this before—she’s never even seen anyone use an ax outside of pictures in storybooks. The closest thing she’s ever done to wielding an ax was playing ‘whack-a-mole’ at an arcade in 1998. Marley takes a deep breath, raises the ax high above her head, and begins to count to five.

“Waitwaitwaitwaitwaitwait!”  Jack cries frantically. “Try a couple practice swings over there.” He gestures with his head towards a large wooden dresser bobbing steadily in front of them.

Marley nods, figuring that this is probably the best idea. She turns her back to him, raises the ax once more, then hits the dresser in its center.

“Good!” Jack says. “Now try and hit the same mark again, Rose, you can do it!”

She clasps on tightly to the ax’s handle and tugs it back from her first mark, ready to try a second time.

For whatever strange reason, Marley can’t help but thinking back to ballroom dance lessons.

She raises the heavy bladed object, aims at the large hole cut unevenly in the furniture’s middle, and swings.

And when her ax hits a space at least ten inches to the left of her first marking, Marley finally begins to understand the strange connection to ballroom dancing.

There’s a brief silence.  During this time Marley can feel her heart drop to her toes. Her spine tingles with panic and terror keeps her immobile. Oh my God.

“Alright,” breathes Jack, finally. “That’s enough practice.” He looks down at his hands placed onto the pole and separated by a short, five-inch strip of chain. “Come, on.”

“What?”

“You can do it!”

But despite the lovely look of encouragement that shines in his eyes, and the unblemished sincerity set in his jaw, Marley can’t be so sure. Not when his very life is in her hands.

“And listen, Rose, you gotta hit it really hard, and really fast.”

Marley could throw-up.

She’s certain that her entire face must be as white as parchment, and not because of the cold that eats away at her lower body like a school of sharks.

She can hardly breathe. If anything ever happened to him because of her—Marley doesn’t even want to close her eyes and imagine the agony. 

But it’s not like she can just leave him there, either.

She walks towards him, slowly, her head low. She feels defeated. Her breath quivers. Help me, God.

She raises the ax.

“Come o—no wait! Open your hands up a little more. “He demonstrates with his own hands for a moment, yielding an imaginary ax.

Sliding her hands far apart on the dampened wood handle, Marley does as she's told.  “Like that?”

“Right. “ Jack says. “And Rose?” And as Marley looks into his eyes, she sees not a trace of fear, or panic, or any of the negative emotions that brew within the pit of her belly. All she sees in his twin oceans is love. ”I trust you.” Even when Marley doesn’t trust herself, he does. He always has.

Reason number thirteen: for believing in me.

He lays his hands across the pole once again, palms out and spread apart like two butterflies.

He leans back and closes his eyes tightly. “Go!” 

She swings.