The Ferryman (2 page)

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Authors: Amy Neftzger

Tags: #Fiction & Literature

BOOK: The Ferryman
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“Let’s try walking over the bridge,” she suggested as she started down the sidewalk.

“You walk, I’ll float,” Jerome replied with a chuckle. “I’m just trying to lighten things up,” he said after Karen didn’t respond to his joke.

“Sorry,” she replied politely, “I’m just a little low on sleep right now. I only slept four hours before I woke up and headed out tonight.”

“To rob my grave,” he replied with emphasis.

“I wasn’t planning to rob your grave. It just worked out that way.”

“And here we are.”

“Stop finishing my sentences. We’re not telling a story.”

“Aren’t we?” Jerome smiled, as if having his grave robbed was the best thing that had ever happened to him.

“No. We’re not together in this.”

“You’re the one who entered my grave without permission.”

“Look,” she said, frustrated, “I didn’t plan on this. I wasn’t looking for it. I’m sure you weren’t looking for me.” Karen turned her head to look at the water. There was a constant lapping noise and slightly fishy smell coming from it. Normally these things would be soothing, but things were different tonight.

“Actually I was — ”

“You were looking for someone else,” she replied.

“I was avoiding other people,” he explained as they reached the top of the bridge and continued their descent down to the other side. “I didn’t like the looks of those other grave robbers. You were the first woman who’s noticed me in years and I thought you were beautiful.”

“Are you flirting?”

“If I were alive, perhaps,” he replied, “but as it is, I don’t think we could be more than friends.” He continued to ask questions about new roads and buildings until they reached the other side. Instead of answering him, Karen thought about Claude’s smooth, dark hair and how peaceful he looked when he slept, and she wished she was at home with him at that moment so that she could kiss the top of his head. She had never meant to have a child so young. She was planning to get her career started first, and it had been difficult ever since he was born. She wouldn't trade him for her career now. She loved the way his whole face and body laughed when he thought something was funny. He engaged in life and didn’t worry about the things she did, and this helped her to remember what was really important in her life. Even though they were poor and she struggled to keep him fed and clothed, he brought her joy. She felt as if his simple presence in her life added more than the responsibility of parenting took from her.

“Are you listening?” Jerome asked. He had noticed that her mind had been wandering. “You’re not much of a Ferryman, are you? You can’t even handle one passenger.”

“We’ve crossed the river again. Shouldn’t you be gone?” Karen huffed.

“If you were doing your job, I would be.”

“Look, I’m new at this. I’ve never done it before so please don’t insult me,” she said, feeling very tired. The lack of sleep and physical effort of digging up the grave were finally taking a toll on her. Instead, she quietly thought about everything she had ever heard about the Ferryman and tried to come up with something that he was supposed to do that she hadn’t done yet.

She remembered that the Ferryman carried his passengers in a boat so that they could cross the River Styx and reach the underworld. Perhaps she needed a floating vessel so that the ghost could be a passenger, but then she recalled that she had taken the ghost in her car. It was pretty much the same thing, except that one went across water and one rode over a bridge. Then she wondered if she should somehow try to physically carry the ghost across the river.

“STOP AND LISTEN!” Jerome shouted. “You’re not listening to me! No one has ever listened to me! Not my wife or children or anyone! I spent my whole life talking without being heard.”

“And a good part of your death, it seems,” Karen replied with a dismissive tone. She was still in thought about how to be rid of the ghost.

“You’re not listening now. You never even asked my name. I had to tell you.”

“I’m sorry,” Karen said after a brief pause, and she meant it.

For the next hour Karen didn’t talk or think about herself or her needs. Instead, she asked Jerome to tell her about himself, and she listened. Karen sat on the cold brick wall at the edge of the walkway that led over the river and she listened, because that was what Jerome needed the most. He just needed someone to listen.

He told her his life story and what he had been thinking about while he was alone in that grave for the past two-hundred years. He had a wife named Elizabeth and four children, all girls. He adored his family but often felt outnumbered and overwhelmed by the presence of women. He was also the managing partner of the only store within 50 miles and knew most of the community. The other business partner, Elias Smith, spent most of his time locating inexpensive trading goods in other cities and shipping them to the store. Jerome had been the one who sold these goods to the community, so he knew everyone in town and also knew their problems. There had been no local tavern with a sympathetic barkeep, and a conversation with Jerome when the store was empty was as good as therapy for the residents. He spent most of his life listening to other people’s problems and needs. He had been a friend to everyone but often felt lonely.

When he finally appeared to have run out of words she said, “Well, Jerome Brown, it’s time for you to cross the river.” She didn’t know how she knew it would work this time, but she was certain that when Mr. Brown set foot on the other side that his soul would finally go to rest. And it did.

As soon as Jerome stepped off the bridge, his translucent form vanished from the bottom upwards. He tried to say goodbye to Karen as his legs disappeared, but he was gone before the words left his lips.

“That wasn’t too bad,” Karen said to herself as she stared into the empty space where the ghost had stood.

“I gave you an easy one to start with,” Fate said. Karen jumped when she heard the voice and turned to see Fate wearing a three piece pinstriped suit, which still managed to appear very feminine on her.

“I thought I was paid to carry him across the river. The job is done. I’m going back to my life.”

“You accepted the pay, so you’re the new Ferryman. It’s a full-time job with plenty of customers, and you’re not done until I let you go,” Fate said. “And don’t try to get fired by slacking off or doing a bad job. It doesn’t work that way.” Karen’s first instinct was to challenge Fate, but she wisely decided that this was neither the place nor the time. She needed to get home.

“Why me?” Karen asked Fate.

“It takes a woman to get a job done right. Some men can’t even die properly without the help of a woman.” She looked away as if she had said all that needed to be said, and Karen knew enough not to push for more. Instead, she addressed what she really wanted to know.

“I got him where he needs to be. I did my job. I want my life back,” Karen said.

“You’re not done,” Fate replied. “You’re done when I’m done with you.”

“When will that be?” Karen asked, angry and confused.

“I’ll let you know,” Fate replied and vanished.

Karen knew that Fate would return, but she didn’t know where or when. No one does. All Karen knew was that this was the beginning, but of what she didn’t know. As she returned to her car and headed home to check on Claude, she realized that the river was a metaphor. It was never a physical river that Jerome needed to cross. That’s why the crossing had been so difficult for him. She also saw that while death knew no gender bias, Fate did. Fate had chosen a woman for a reason. While the weight of this last realization intrigued Karen, it also instilled a sense of alarm in her about her future. She felt as if the bridge she was driving over was giving out beneath her, allowing her to tumble into the rapids below.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Episode Two

Fate Cannot Be Trusted

 

 

Karen could no longer watch The Sixth Sense. She had never really liked the film, but she thought it might have some answers, given her current situation. However, not only was she tired of it, but she had also come to realize that it was useless. The situation in the movie was very different from hers. Although she could see dead people everywhere, her life wasn’t a movie. And while this new ability to see ghosts scared her at first, she quickly overcame her fear in exchange for a focus on finding a way out of her situation.

Even if a greater force was directing her life, she felt that it was an individual who specialized in comedies. Her life since Fate had taken over felt very unreal — far too silly to be real in some ways. At the same time it felt as if she had been submerged into another dimension of being, and she now questioned the very definition of reality. Fate had announced she was in charge, but Karen couldn’t help thinking that there was a better plot line out there somewhere. Karen decided that she needed to find a more kindred spirit than Fate to direct her story, but she didn’t know how to get out of her contract. That was the critical part.

Karen was now in the library doing more in-depth research, but she had spent the last two days on the Internet looking up everything that she could find related to the Ferryman, and she learned a number of things. In Greek mythology the Ferryman’s name was Charon — not too different from her own name. She had also learned that payment consisted of a coin, usually an obol, which was placed in the mouth of the deceased individual. The coins that Karen had stolen from the grave were placed on the eyes of the corpse and not in the mouth. This, Karen decided, was evidence that the payment had not been gone about in the proper manner. Therefore, Fate could not argue that Karen was required to perform the Ferryman’s duties because she had taken his wages. It was a technicality, but a very real one. Karen was going to discuss this point with Fate as soon as she appeared again.

The problem with Fate is that no matter how many times you call out to her, she has her own timing that’s irrelevant to whatever anyone else happens to be doing, even if the person is doing Fate’s bidding. Some individuals might refer to Fate as having a difficult personality, while others might accuse her of not being a “team player.” Regardless, even if she plays by her own rules, she still calls the shots for everyone else.

“You won’t find what you’re looking for here,” Fate said loudly. Karen jumped at the sound of Fate’s voice and dropped the book she was reading onto the library table. Fate was smartly dressed in camel colored tweed pants and a brown asymmetrical sweater over a cream colored shell. Her nails were perfectly manicured with bright red polish, and they looked like tulip petals fluttering in the wind each time she moved her hands while speaking.

Although she had been looking forward to Fate’s appearance, Karen was still startled by the abruptness of her entrance. Karen took a slow, deep breath to steady herself as she flipped the cover of the book closed.

“There are less dramatic ways to enter a room,” Karen whispered coldly. The ghost of a librarian put her finger to her lips as she glared at Karen. Her dress was at least twenty years out of date, and she wore a large scarf around her neck. Karen thought it was odd how none of the living librarians noticed Karen or Fate, since Fate was so loud.

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