Meeting the Ferryman

Sadly, you have died.

You are surprised by this, knowing death was the inevitable end for all, but never truly considering it would happen, could happen, to you.

You are you after all, and such a thing has never been so real and yet at the same time felt so foreign.Death is one of the myriad of things that happen to other people, not you.

Yet here you are.

You stand in what appears to be a dimly lit cavern.There is a large expanse of water in front of you, a still, black mass that is both ominous and welcoming.

You are able to see as you always have, but at the same time you have the sense of being outside your body, as if you are merely a spectator. There is no way to gauge how long you stand here. Alone.

Waiting for something. There is no way of knowing what comes next, but you know you are where you are supposed to be.

Where you must be. And somehow that is enough.

It never even occurs to you to look behind you.

And so you stand.

The light is dim at first, so faint that you think you are imagining it. As it draws closer, you realize it is coming from a boat, or more accurately, above a boat. A lantern is hanging from a hook that is attached to a pole at the prow of the worn, ancient looking vessel.

In the center of the boat is a tall, too thin being wearing a gray, hooded robe. You can not tell if this being is male or female, and you sense that this is entirely the wrong sort of question to be asking anyway.

A sense of deja vu hits you. This all seems so familiar, yet the story escapes you, barely beyond the reaching fingertips of your mind. Slowly and unstoppably, the creature extends it's hand and gently and firmly motions you to come forward.

You obey, your body acting independent of thought.

"Your feet will get wet. I'm sorry but there is no way round it. No harm shall befall you if your steps are quick."

The voice is old and ill-used, but there is an undercurrent of kindness underlying it. And an air of finality. Of endings.

You step into the water and feel it's warmth. Somehow you can feel the water...beckoning to you and you are tempted for a fleeting instant to linger. Suddenly you are reminded by the warning of the creature to step quick. Or did the creature re-utter the words? You are unable to tell, but you fairly jump into the boat.

Your sudden entry does not disturb the boat at all. In fact you seem to not have any effect at all. It's almost as if you are not even there, or are too insubstantial to make a difference.

The creature motions for you to sit down, and you do.

It uses a pole to push away from the shore, turns the boat around until you are pointed toward what seems to be the vast, unending center of the pool.

The light of the lantern is fierce and seems to be fighting back the hungry darkness. You sense that the darkness would gladly envelop you if given even a moments chance. A small shiver goes down your spine as you consider what that might be like.

"Don't" the creature hisses.

Instead you look at your odd companion. As you look, it almost strikes you that you recognize this creature. It is similar to being at a mall, and seeing a face in the crowd, and you think you know the face. Only to realize the impossibility of it being the person you knew, as that person is far removed from where you are. And upon realizing this you quickly look away as to avoid uncomfortably meeting the eyes of a stranger.

You find that you don't fear the creature. Before you know it, words are coming out of your mouth.

"Do...do I know you? Have I seen you before?"

The creature stops pushing you along and turns to look at you.

You see the face and it starts to become clear to you. You start to understand.

"I should hope so" the creature says, with an odd note of humor lacing its words. "For you have seen glimpses of me throughout your life. All through life men and women have tried painting me, writing of me, singing of me, sculpting me. It was their attempt to understand and come to grips with meeting me someday. The ones that thought and felt like you do are the ones that wove the images that caught your imagination. They stuck there. Not always remembered or easily recalled, but lodged there all the same."

"ah". You know it isn't much of a response, but no other words come to mind. You find it is hard to make conversation with the ferryman.

And yet you do. Somehow you find an easy flow of conversation with this..thing. As the ferryman pushes you forward, you talk as if with an old friend you haven't seen in years.

"I would that you would share some humor with me, as it is been very long since my mouth has known laughter or mirth."

Your mind reels. "Wait, you want me to tell you a...joke?"

"Yes, if you would be so kind. It is rare that I am able to converse with those I transport. But there is something different about you. Something enjoyable that transcends even endings."

Your mind races. What type of joke do you tell the ferryman of the river Styx? One joke falls into your mind. It just might be the last joke you ever heard. It was told to you by your teenage nephew, and as it turns out, it is quite dirty. Certainly it isn't appropriate to share such humor with a creature such as this? And yet nothing else will enter your mind. So you tell your joke, hesitantly at first, but with increasing enthusiasm as you share your tale.

At the end of the story there is silence. Your last words linger in the humid air. The creature turns to you, looking straight into your eyes. The "face" is solemn and gives nothing away. Your mouth is just starting to open so you can issue an apology when you see the corner of the ferryman's mouth twitch. Upward. The beginnings of a laugh. The creature's mouth opens and a low throaty chuckle emanates from the deepest part of this ancient being.

And the ferryman laughs, and laughs- until you are joining in. Now you are both fully belly laughing, tears running down your face. You have never laughed like this before, not in life. You are no longer laughing at the story you told, you are laughing for the sheer joy of laughter. Entirely caught up in the moment and the absurdity of the moment. Who knew the ferryman of the river Styx had a bawdy sense of humor?

But, as this is the place for endings, the laughter slowly fades away.

"Thank you" the ferryman says. "Truly it has been ages beyond measuring that I have experienced that. You are unique, as I have said. Because you have given me a gift that is well beyond your comprehension, now I give you a gift in return. A gift such as one I have not given for many millenia.

I give you the gift of returning. We still must complete the journey. But when we get there I will bring you back. And also, I grant you one last gift. You may take one back with you."

If this is you- who would you take?