“or pronounced the same as ‘sh’, as in ‘machine’.” Sharon, immortal ferryman of the dead

teashoesandhair:

It had only been a week, thought Hades. One sodding week. And really, wasn’t that just the kicker? He’d had the gall – no, the audacity – to take one whole week off work, and this was what he got in return. Seven days of sunning himself in the Bahamas, trying to take his mind off the constant wails of the dead, and this was the price. A golden tan that would be the envy of Zeus and Aphrodite for weeks to come, and this.

The woman cleared her throat, shifting her weight in the boat so that it rocked on the river Styx in an ominous manner. 

“That’ll be one coin, love,” she said, disinterestedly inspecting what looked like a broken gemstone on one of her pink nails. 

“Right,” said Hades, “there’s a problem with that. Two, actually.”

The woman sighed, pushing a hand through pristine platinum hair in agitation. “Look, if you don’t have the fee, then – ”

“No, it’s not that,” Hades interrupted. “It’s – look, can I speak to Persephone about this?”

The woman frowned and folded her arms. Her bangles jingled as she did so. “No coin, no voyage across the Styx into the realm of the dead,” she said. “I can call Persephone, but I don’t think she’ll appreciate it, to be honest. She’s got an appointment.”

Hades inhaled, counted to five, and exhaled again. He could see his breath in the cold underground air. “An appointment.”

“Yes,” the woman affirmed, nodding. “Something to do with her husband coming home, wanting to surprise him with some new hairstyle. I hear he’s been basking in warmer climes, left her to do all the housekeeping and then some. It’s all right for some, innit?”

Hades cleared his throat. “Yes, well,” he said, abashed. “He does have quite a busy job, I think. He hasn’t taken time off in about four centuries.”

“I don’t even get a lunch break,” the woman countered, pursing her lips, which, Hades noticed, were painted a rather odd shade of frosted pink. “The dead wait for no man. Or woman. Or sandwich and a little sit down, apparently.”

“That’s terribly unfortunate,” Hades agreed. “But you see, the person who usually does your job – and where is he, by the way? – he doesn’t actually need to eat.”

The woman frowned. “We can’t all be Kate Moss.”

“I don’t even know who that is,” Hades sighed. “But I really do need to speak to Persephone, because I don’t have any money on me at all. I don’t carry change.”

The woman nodded sympathetically. “See,” she said, “I’ve been hassling Persephone to get one of those card machines. Contactless payment, that’s the best thing really, but just a normal credit card thing would be fine. No-one carries cash any more, do they? Not unless they need to scratch off the little bit on a scratch card, and honestly, I think that’s a dying market and all. It’s all online, innit?”

Hades blinked. The woman stared up at him, waiting for an answer to what Hades was only now realising was a genuine question. 

“Yes,” he offered meekly, and the woman beamed. 

“See, I knew I was onto something,” she said. She gestured towards the front of the boat, which sagged somewhat sadly forwards with the shift in weight. “It could go there, you see? Then, all the people could queue up and it would be a much more efficient process.” She hummed. “I’m wasted as a psychopomp, honestly. Customer service was always my forté. That and nail art.”

Again, the wait. The eager stare. Hades thought about death.

“Yes,” he repeated. 

The woman grinned again, apparently delighted. Then, pretending to stealthily look around, she leaned closer to Hades, and began speaking in a stage whisper. 

“Look,” she said. “The boss won’t like this much, but what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him, right?”

“Technically correct,” agreed Hades, because it was. 

“So,” the woman continued, “I’ll let you across this time, free of charge, on the condition that if you’re ever saved from this realm by one of those do-gooder hero types, you pay the fee twice on your return. Deal?”

“Deal,” said Hades, “although I have to warn you that it’s very unlikely that any hero will ever try and save me.”

“You never know,” the woman said, steering the boat closer to the shore so that Hades could step on board. “We get all sorts rescued from down here. Just two days ago, I managed to stop this pair of teenagers. Trying to keep their love eternal, they said. Bollocks to that, I said. No love is eternal. Just ask my friend Janet, I said; she was married twice. Love of her life, Jason was, until he fucked off to Malaga with bloody Helen, of all people. Pete wasn’t much better. Treated her like a princess, he did, until she lost her job at the insurance agency and – ”

“I think we’re here,” said Hades politely as the boat drew closer towards the shore of the opposite bank, and the woman stopped. 

“You’re right,” she said. “We are. Time flies, doesn’t it?”

“In temporally disconnected otherworlds, generally,” Hades said, and stepped out of the boat and straight into Persephone. 

“Hello dear,” she said, giving him a peck on the cheek, once she had disentangled her poncho from his kilt. “Did you have a nice time?”

“Your hair is green,” Hades replied, and Persephone grinned, making Hades’ heart flutter like he was an extra in Teen Wolf. 

“Do you like it?” she asked. 

“I am going to show you exactly how much I like it,” Hades replied, thinking of the tub of cream cheese hidden under his bed, “as soon as you tell me where the Hades Charon has got to.”

“Oh,” said Persephone, frowning. “I gave him the week off. He hasn’t had a day off in four hundred years, you see, so I said he could take that trip to Atlantis that he’s always wanted to take. I didn’t tell him that Google Maps seemed to suggest that he might have a hard time finding a Travel Lodge there, or at least one without an excessively large indoor swimming pool.”

“I love you immeasurably,” said Hades, “but who is this woman?”

“Sharon,” said the woman, doing a dainty little finger wave. “Hiya.”

“Oh,” said Hades. “That name can’t be a coincidence. Are you related to Charon, by any chance? Great niece? Great great great granddaughter? Aunt?”

“I just picked her because I thought it was funny, to be honest,” said Persephone. 

“I worked really hard on my CV,” protested Sharon. 

“She doesn’t even get lunch breaks,” said Hades. 

“I haven’t had a day off in five and a half months,” said Persephone. 

“I quit,” said Sharon. "I’m leaving this boat here and I’m going back to the salon. I got a coffee break there, at least. All this psychopomp stuff is doing my nut in.” 

With that, she stormed off, leaving a trail of muddy heel prints behind her.

As the sound of her footsteps quietened down, Hades and Persephone looked at the empty boat, bobbing morosely on the velvet waters of the Styx. Devoid of the dead or the living, it really did just look like a normal boat; wooden slats for seats, a woodworm rotted prow, one oar missing. It hardly screamed ‘vessel of the dead’.

At least, not yet.

“We should get a card machine,” said Hades. 

“Oh my god, I know, right?” said Persephone.