In front of her was a river, frothy white with rapids, and a wooden boat, oars still engaged in the oarlocks.
“There must be a mistake,” Latona looked up at the achingly blue sky. The last thing she could remember was the screeching of metal as her car crumpled around her. Fabric or paper twirled in the air like confetti. Then pain.
She was dead, she was definitely one-hundred percent dead, and there was truly a man wearing only a loincloth standing in front of her. She pinched herself, but it didn’t hurt. She was dead after all.
“I am Phelegas, ferryman of the dead. You must pay your fare to pass into Hades,” he held out a pale hand.
“Where’s the white tunnel? And Hades? Like hell? I must have really messed up,” Latona tried to look only at the man’s face. He was nearly naked, and far too old for her taste.
“Hades is the Greek afterworld. Your name is Latona, the hidden one, daughter of Coeus and Phoebe, sister of Asterius, mother of Apollo and Artemis . . .”
“More like daughter of Deacon and Fran, sister of Deshaun, mother of no one,” Latona pointed at herself, “Do I look Greek to you?”
Phelegas studied her, then nodded, “About the eyes, yes, and the shape of your chin.”
“I mean, I guess I could be part Greek, like one-one-hundredth Greek,” she patted the air next to the Phelegas’ hoary shoulder, “but not enough to cross the river Styx.”
“Oh, that’s not the Styx, that’s the Lethe. They all go to the same place, so it doesn’t really matter,” he shrugged, “If you don’t want to cross, you’ll just wait on the river bank until you get thirsty.”
“What happens when I get thirsty?” Latona could imagine all sorts of terrible things. Perhaps she would suck the souls out of the living as if they were human Capri Suns.
“You drink from the river and you forget everything, who you are, that you are waiting, that you are dead, everything,” Phelegas turned away from her.
Latona stood by herself for a few minutes, long enough to note that she cast no shadow and that there were no birds in the trees beside the Lethe. Unnerved, she walked back towards the boat where Phelegas stood, unrolling a scroll. “Okay,” Latona dug in her purse, “How much is the fare?”
“One coin,” Phelegas held out a calloused palm.
“Uh, will you take a dollar?”
Phelegas shook his head, “Tradition dictates it must be a coin. If you don’t have any, we accept bitcoin.”
Latona laughed, “Really? You do know that’s like $5,000.00.”
“Of what use to the dead is money?” Phelegas glared at her, “I have directions on how to buy bitcoin using PayPal if you would like them.”
“If I pay you, will you promise to buy some pants?” Latona tried to avoid looking at the loincloth, then gave up and stared at it. “I mean, that’s just gross. Has it ever been washed?”
Phelegas’s face went through contortions, before finally settling back into a stern calmness. “I shall take you to Elysium.”
“Oooo-kay,” Latona slid her phone out of her pocket. An image of her family lit the lock screen, and sadness formed a bubble in her throat. “Can I call them, one last time?”
“The dead are among the dead and the living among the living,” Phelegas held up his scroll, “When you are ready, scan the QR code here.”
Latona‘s finger hovered over her contact list. What would she say if someone answered? Her family might already know that she was dead. “Hi Mom,” she imagined herself saying, “I know I’m dead, but I just wanted to let you know I’m okay and Hades isn’t too bad. No fires yet.” No, Phelegas was right, it would be a bad idea.
She scanned the QR code, “Remember, buy some pants. Don’t spend it all on gambling or alcohol, or whatever you do.”
“I suppose the cassock doesn’t make the priest,” Phelegas drug the boat out of the reeds. It hit the water with a dull splash. He held the boat in place, waiting for Latona to board. She placed one foot in the boat, then the other, feeling it wobble underneath her weight.
Once she had settled on a bench, Phelegas leapt in beside her, his leathery arms pulling at the oars like a water-worn rope winding around a pulley. Latona couldn’t help but worry that the old man’s arms would snap off leaving the boat to drift down river.
“I guess this is why I didn’t make it to Heaven,” she mumbled, clutching the boat’s bench, “Too many morbid thoughts.”
“What?” yelled Phelegas. She could barely hear him over the rush of water.
“Hell!” she yelled back, “How bad is it?”
She could not make out his response, as they had passed into a cave where the rush of water became deafening. Phelegas pulled his boat up to a ledge and motioned that she should get out. Latona wobbled out of the boat, drawn to the light she could see through the cave mouth.
She stood there for an interminable amount of time, blinking at the rolling hills and fruit trees. A mansion sat just beyond, with a large veranda. A group of people in white gowns gathered there, and as she watched, they unfurled a banner. “Welcome Home,” it said, “Latona.”