The Explorer's Apprentice

40:Eleanor Brown Gives Advice

Eleanor Brown

“I just don’t know, Eleanor! I just…It just scares me, how truly different we really are!” Georgia sighs and grips on tightly to the white railing ahead of her. The day is crisp and clean. The sky and sea are a clear baby blue and gentle winds stroke the girls pink cheeks like little kisses.

“We’re from two completely different words, Jacob and I, and I just….I want us to be together, I really do but….”

Eleanor straightens and brings her hands together , folding them across her belly. “But you just don’t see how.” As the words leave her mouth, her heart does a little flip. Because in her own little way, she can relate.

Georgia’s hands clutch so tightly onto Titanic’s railings that her fingers are as pale as parchment. Eleanor notices how pretty her little hands are, then—small and delicate, and her nails are pink and white, like little roses. “Yes…” she breathes. For moments, the two girls stare only the sea, not saying a word.

The silence, however, is deafening in that it gives Eleanor more time to think—and her thoughts are screaming. It’s as if an army of little fairies are dancing about in her head, all shouting different memories and ideas at the top of their lungs in so many different, little voices. But despite all of this, there is one voice that stands out among the rest. The king voice. There’s still one idea, one face that sticks out in her head like a tulip in a field of grain. And the very thought if it makes heart begin to crumble. Eleanor takes a deep breath and shuts her eyes, tight, trying to block out the bright green eyes and the dancing and the little paper butterflies.

“And you know,” starts Georgia. Her voice is so soft, like she might scare Eleanor away if she speaks any louder. Her eyes are glazed over, staring out onto the water, and the corners prick with tears. Her little mouth is turned up into the smallest, most ironic of smiles. “As silly as this seems, I just feel…different around him. I just know that I’ve never felt that way about anyone before. Jacob, he makes me feel…”

“Pretty?” Eleanor provides, thinking back to the lovely night before. She remembers gentle hands atop her waste, handling her carefully as if she were a beautiful prized doll.

Georgia’s eyes shine. “Beautiful. And smart and funny and…and everything I’m not but it’s an amazing feeling, Eleanor! Absolutely amazing.”

He’s the first one I’ve ever told about my hopes—my real hopes—and my dreams. And he didn’t laugh or smirk or titter. He made me feel…Eleanor doesn’t even know. Truth be told, she doesn’t even want to know. Because what if the truth is a little more extreme than she had hoped?

But Georgia…..

Georgia doesn’t have a farm to own, or a father to think about. Georgia doesn’t have any marriage restrictions or a planned future ahead of her. Georgia Henderson is sixteen years old, beautiful, and has a whole, free life ahead of her. And Eleanor’s heart, despite her head’s protests—would just about die for that. This young girl has nothing significant stopping her from falling for a boy who makes her feel beautiful things. And Eleanor, who does, knows it.

“Then tell him so.”

Georgia’s head pops up suddenly. Eleanor watches the girl survey her with big eyes, trying to uncover any piece of information that she may have missed before. But Eleanor’s expression remains dead serious. She is dead serious. “What?” asks Georgia.

“I said tell him so. Tell him how you feel. I mean if you really think about it, there’s nothin’ holdin’ you back.” Eleanor shrugs. “I mean if you really, really think about it, you’ll see that there isn’t.”

“But what about—“

“Class?” Eleanor laughs, but it comes put bitter, like wine. “What about it? Why would you let somethin’ like that come between your love?”

Eleanor watches her friend’s very soul absorb her words. Georgia’s eyes widen, and her mouth pops open to form an ‘o’. But now that Eleanor’s started, she just can’t stop. Georgia Henderson needs to hear this.

Rule number seven: Be nothing but blunt.

“Yeah that’s right, I said it. Love. I said love.” Eleanor takes in a deep breath and runs a hand through her fair curls. She feels very light, suddenly, like any minute now the wind will pick up and blow her away. But it’s a free feeling, one that keeps her talking even though Georgia’s fingers fidget with nerves, and a few strollers have stopped to eavesdrop on Eleanor’s outburst. She lowers her voice. “You do love him, don’t you, hon.”

Georgia doesn’t even have to think, and there is no hesitation in her eyes. Her words just come out, quietly but surely. “Yes.…”

Eleanor nods. “Then tell him that.”

“Now?”

“Better off sooner than later!”

Georgia laughs. The sound is high and loud, and new on her tongue—as if she hasn’t laughed like that in years. “O-okay….” Her grip loosens on the railing and she takes in a very deep breath.

“Well go on then!” Eleanor urges. She nudges her unmoving friend with her elbow.

“Okay, okay,” Georgia laughs. “I, Georgia Henderson, am going to tell the boy of my dreams that I love him. Me, Georgia Henderson! Oh my God…me!” She laughs so hard that she doubles over, holds her side, and tiny tears of joy stain her eyes. “I’m really going to do this!”

Eleanor smiles, but suddenly, she doesn’t feel as jolly as she’d expected. I’m really going to do this! Georgia’s words ring over and over in Eleanor’s head like a siren. I’m going to tell the boy of my dreams that I love him!

 “Thank you, Elle…” Georgia wraps her slender arms around Eleanor. She’s so excited that she’s shaking. Her eyes are glistening. “You’ve been such a good friend to me.”

“So have you….” Eleanor breathes, but somehow, her words sound distant, glazed over. She feels very empty. She wants to be happy for her friend; she really does, but….

Selfish, Eleanor, once again, you’re being absolutely selfish.

Eleanor watches as her friend frolics away, running through the crowd with a certain pep in her step, like she’s just one a million dollars or kissed sunlight. She remembers looking that way, feeling that way, as she danced with a boy who made her feel as light and as free as air--a boy who she'd left, hurt and confused, without any explaination. He probably thinks I despise him....the thought makes Eleanor sick. So sick. Her stomach curls and twists. I can't have him thinking that, not after the way he made me feel....

I need to appologize, at least.

 Eleanor watches Georgia until she can’t see her anymore, the same six words playing in her head. I’m really going to do this!

Perhaps, Eleanor thinks, straightening. I should do the same.