The Explorer's Apprentice

81:Ten Things

 

Eleanor Brown

The captain’s eyes are already dead.  

Chaos begins to build around him; Eleanor can feel it in her very bones. Bright blue water spews out from the hatches beneath her, and water fills her delicate shoes. Around her, people scream. The air is full of hustle, almost everyone is moving, running, escaping. Except for one man.

When Eleanor looks into the captain’s eyes, she sees nothing. She sees no hope, no perseverance, no anger or love or regret or grief or joy or anything. It’s like staring into a doll’s eyes, as if they’re made of painted glass. He walks— drifts right past Eleanor, like a spirit—breathes, and his heart beats with life. But on the inside, his soul is dying, just like his ship.

Eleanor stops, only for a moment. She wants to touch him. Her wish, one of the biggest she’s ever made, is to reach out and fill him with life again. Perhaps even her own life. She wants to help this poor, dying man, a stranger, but a fellow human being nonetheless. She wants him to know how lucky he is to be able to breathe—in, out, it’s really not as simple as it looks, she wants to tell him. Some people aren’t even able to. Like my Father, and my Mother. They would love, and would have loved, to have a fighting chance like you do.

She wants to tell him not to give up, that there are things worth living for. Even if neither he or is quite sure of what, she knows that it’s out there.

A pair of bright green eyes and a glowing smile taught her that.

 “Ellie come, how many times do I have to tell you?”  Jacob tugs on Eleanor’s arm. Even his eyes are pleading, wide with fear. It’s such a familiar look. It’s the trend on Titanic. Almost everyone is wearing it, brandishing it like a fashion. Even Jacob is trembling.

Eleanor pats her friend’s hand. “Give me just one minute.”

“Eleanor—“

But as Eleanor darts away, cutting through the crowd ahead of her like a sleek dolphin in a sea of tunas, Jacob doesn’t stop her. Eleanor eyes blaze with such determination, such conviction, that they seem to melt skin.

Eleanor Brown couldn’t help her mother. She killed her mother. She can’t help her father—she’s pretty darn sure that she’s killing him softly, slowly, too.

She couldn’t help Fabrizio. She broke his heart.

Please, sweet Jesus, she prays, clasping her hands tightly and bringing them to her mouth as she walks. Her fingers are so cold, like ice. Please make me useful. Please let me help this broken man.

 “Sir!” She reaches out and touches his strong shoulder. Her hand makes it out of the crowd seconds before the rest of her does. Her breathing is hard. Her voice rattles. The captain looks down at her with glazed, vacant eyes. But at least he’s stopped walking.

“Sir, I just….” Eleanor doesn’t even know what to say. No, she knows exactly what to say. She’s got a billion things to say. But time isn’t on her side. She can feel Georgia’s impatient eyes glairing craters into her back. She can feel the captain’s trembling skin, itching to get away from her, itching to get moving. She can feel Titanic slipping from under her. It’s like the entire world is ending. “Sir I just wanted to tell you to reconsider it.”

He blinks. His words come out soft, dull. But at least he’s talking. “What?”

“Life!” She cries suddenly. She can feel white hot tears moisten her begging eyes, even though she doesn’t quite know why, but she refuses to blink them away. She refuses to close her eyes at all. Because say she did—Eleanor knows exactly what she’d see.

Her Papa, with a body so frail and broken, yet still so full of life. The exact opposite of the man in front of her.

Eleanor knows that she wouldn’t be able to handle that. Not here. Not now.

“I want you to reconsider life, sir. I want you to open  your head, sir, and remember all the beautiful things you’ve ever seen. And then I want you to take ten of those good things, and I want you to imagine yourself grabbing hold of them, keeping them stored tightly in the palm of your hand and then….and then you….you…”

‘And then you roll them up into a ball and place them in your left pocket—the pocket closest to your heart, Allie.’

‘And then what, Daddy?’ She had asked, her eyes full of admiration. ‘And then what do I do with those memories of Mommy?’

‘Well,’ he replied. His eyes were full of tears, but his smile was bright. Then you’ll never ever lose them. You’ll always have those memories—the paper cranes, the boat trip, the bedtime stories, her smell and her laugh—everything.

“And then what?” The captain’s voice seems to cut through the air, like a sword, one mighty enough to drag Eleanor out of the most secluded part of her mind.

What was that? For a moment, Eleanor is so focused on the happenings within her own head that she doesn’t even notice the miracle that is the captain—who actually is listening to what she’s saying, despite his dreary state. It feels like a memory, but….how?

It’s so fresh and clear in Eleanor’s mind, yet it also seems so far. Where did this memory even come from?

“You…” Eleanor can hardly find her voice. But she takes a deep breath, and she closes her eyes, only for a moment, because this time she isn’t afraid. This time, she knows that what she’ll see won’t be death, but life. A man with sandy golden hair and kind hazel eyes dances about her memory. If she thinks hard enough, she can remember his smell—his spicy cologne. She can feel his strong hand in her own. She can feel his love.

Daddy….

Eleanor opens her eyes. “You roll them up into a ball and place them in your left pocket—the pocket closest to your heart.”

“Eleanor!” Calls Jacob from far behind her. His voice oozes with raw fear. “Eleanor hurry!”

“Please, sir,” Eleanor says softly, looking up and gazing into the captain’s wide eyes. They’re not so dead anymore, she notes. They blaze with a thousand different emotions. And although Eleanor isn’t quite able to pick up on them, or even guess what he can be thinking, she knows that her words have gotten through somehow. Just as her father’s had gotten through to her. “Pease try it.”

A frantic hand grips hold on Eleanor’s wrist, suddenly, and she can feel Jacob pulling her away, once again.

The captain only nods, his head making small, stiff movements, but it’s a nod nonetheless. She’s done all she can do. The rest, she realizes, is completely up to him. She just hopes she’s done enough.  

There are just some things that a person has to do on their own.

Eleanor keeps the captain in her prayers as she’s dragged away, ten precious memories of her mother still circling about her head.