The Explorer's Apprentice

45:My Flying Machine

I still don't own these people.... 

Rose Dewitt Bukater

“Hello Jack.” 

 He had been facing the sea at the very end of Titanic, but he turns around quickly. The colorful sunset splashes onto the side of his lovely face. The breeze rustles his hair.

 “I changed my mind.”

She drifts towards him. Even the evening wind seems to push her forward. And he when he smiles, heaven doesn't seem far away anymore. It’s like a dream. The end of a story. A wonderful, beautiful, magical story.  “They said you might be up here and I—“

 Jack brings a gentle finger to his lips and shhs her softly. “Give me your hand.”

 She does so, and his touch is soft and warm. An angel's touch. A beautiful emotion glides up Rose's arm and spreads throughout her entire body upon their embrace, but she is't afraid of it anymore. She cherishes it, lets her consume her very soul. Lets it envelope her from the inside out. For the first time in her whole life, she lets the love swallow her whole.  

Jack brings her closer to him, places his second hand on top of hers. And she smiles. Rose has never felt so at home. Warmth engulfs her like a kiss. This is where she belongs and she knows it. She always has. “Now close your eyes.” He says.

His smile is wide and lovely, and a surprise is hidden in his brilliant blue eyes. She laughs--freely and blissfully and real. 

“Go on,” he urges.

She closes her eyes.

“Now step up,” with one hand he guides her to what feels like a few steps, and with the other he never lets go of her grasp. ”Now hold on to the railing.” She can feel his soft breath on her temple--lovely, like warm sunlight on her skin; enchanting, like the first October breeze. Clean, crisp, and comforting. Gentle and sweet.   “Keep your eyes closed, don’t peak.”

Her smile widens.“I’m not.”

“Step up onto the rail,” Jack helps her up, touching her back and hips gently like she’s delicate and important. An ancient treasure. The salty wind combs out her curls, strolling through her hair as she blindly climbs higher.  And when she can’t possibly go any further, she feels Jack hop up behind her.  His stomach touches her back. “Hold on, and keep your eyes closed.”

She can practically feel his smile beside her, burning through her skin and into her very soul.

“Do you trust me?” His lips are only centimeters—millimeters—away from her ear. Never before has Rose breathed in an air so sweet. Breathing, living, has never felt this glorious.

“I trust you.”

She does, with all of her heart, trust the beautiful boy beside her. He’s taught her so much about loving, about living, about making an existence count. He is her beaken in the darkness. He is the only thing that made sense. He’s taught her, in his own way, not only how to love something with all her heart, but how to love herself, too.

He taught her how to adventure.

He makes her feel beautiful things—things that she had thought impossible to feel. Things that she thought inexistent. She’s never loved this hard or this much.

The love Rose feels for him is everything her grandmother described love to be-- everything Rose used to scoff at and laugh at and doubt-- and so much more. ‘At last’ she can practically hear her grandmother’s tender voice whispering in her ear ‘It only took time. I’m so happy for you, dear.’

She feels him bring both hands onto her arms, and he spreads them out wide. His chin rests on her right shoulder. “Alright,” he whispers. “Open your eyes.”

Rose does as she’s told. She lets out a little gasp.

It’s the first time Rose has ever witnessed a scene so beautiful.

She soars right into the sunset, standing at the very tip of the largest ship in the world. Her fingers seem to paint the bleeding sky, and she can practically taste the sweet clouds that pass by. She feels like an a bird, a ghost, an angel, soaring above the never-ending waters. Rose feels like a miracle.

“I’m flying, Jack!” She breaths, her mouth widening into a sweet grin, as if grinning is all she's ever been taught how to do-- as if she's been doing it her whole life. 

Jack clasps his hands around hers. His hand is soft; heartening. His fingers intermingle with Roses's like children in a playground and she can feel his cheek against her own-- as innocent and as gentle as a tiny daisy.

Jack starts to sing softly then, a song that brings Rose back to being nine-years old with her uncle Guard on the front porch, watching the sunrise. “Come Josephine my flying machine,” Rose laughs  brightly as dazzling shades of pinks and golds envelope her, blackening to sleepy shades of purple as the sun sinks into its nightly bed. “Going up she goes…up she goes…”

Jack brings Rose’s hands down to her waist. His arms wrap around her own, holding her close, and she holds onto him. It’s like they’re the only two remaining things in the world. It's like they cling onto each other for life, creating a force strong enough to outweigh any form of lonliness, or despair, or darkness. His arms cascade around her like a mighty waterfall--washing away every scarring word she's ever heard, every ugly thought she's ever had. They hold each other like this for minutes, tightly, strongly, as if they need each other's touch to survive. 

And when their lips meet for the very first time, when Rose closes her eyes and lets her mouth be full of the most magnificent force in the world, she knows that in Jack’s arms, in this moment, is where she’s meant to be.  Life she realizes, this adventure that we've all been given, it consists of moments. Moments that all lead up until something big. Some may be pleasant…images of fly-fishing with Kate in the woods, and being tucked in tight by her grandmother flash through her head… and some may be lonely and dark. She pictures her mother's cold, judging eyes. But in the end, they’re all connected and they all point to something beautiful.

Rose thinks of Jack, and they kiss for minutes. Slowly at first, like wonderful little rose petals rubbing against her lips. And then more passionately as time goes on, like the taste of one another satisfies a deep hunger that has been starving for years. Sweet, blissful pleasure and pure joy coat her famished lips. She loves the feel of him and the sweet taste of butter and freedom. She brings her hand to the back of his head and strokes him there, letting her fingers stroll through the golden sea of his hair. 

And that’s when one realizes how much those moments were really worth.

Rose has never felts so happy, so alive, so beautiful and amazing and important and loved and every good thing a person should feel in their lifetime and more. She wants to marry this boy someday--dive into a whole new adventure with him and never look back. Spontaneous emotions course through her veins, but it feels so lovely. For moments, she expects to wake up, as everything seems too good to be true. But the never ending dream etches a permanent smile onto her face, even while the taste of love glides across her lips . If she could make this moment last forever, she would. If she could freeze time and stay in his arms for all eternity, she’d do it in a heartbeat.

But alas; time is like an ocean. Such forces do not stop for anyone. They always goes on, they cannot be tamed, and you can only hold a little of them in your hands. More moments are created. Moments, big and small, all heading in the same direction. All leading, eventually, up to the very end.