The Ferryman
by
Persephoneia
E.
Caddy Compson
A Word from the Writer: A short deviation written when inspiration came one day. Allusions present to Melville. Feedback, as always, is infinitely appreciated :)
Disclaimer: The Greek myths are not of my own creation; I claim no ownership over them whatsoever. References to other works of literature, Melville in particular, may be littered throughout this work; they are not mine, either. I hope you will enjoy reading it, as I have enjoyed writing it.
One-shot.
Call me the Ferryman. Some years ago – never mind how long precisely, for it matters not – I came to my present post. Eternity it seems I've spent here, navigating over the depths of the River of Woe, from swampy shore to swampy shore, always collecting my fare, the obolus each must pay to cross dark watery Acheron.
And not that they all come prepared to pay.
Some have not the fee, some beg and plead and ask for mercy so that they might cross, might board my little ferry and be on their way.
But rules are rules.
The begging and pleading and mercy-asking turns to crying, to kneeling before me and tugging at my inky obsidian cloak, and all I can ever do is shake my head, respond with a frigid, simple "no." Never an "I'm sorry." I've never been the sympathetic sort, never the feeling kind or sentimentalist. Not I. I shrink away from the emotions, pull back my cloak away from their grubby little hands and fix them with an unfeeling look of unmistakable disdain.
How reduced they then become, these mortals, from the smallest child to the strongest soldier, to the most powerful politician, to the most shrewish harpy, all of them crumble, sink to the ground before me, reduced to such depths, so feeble, so incapable, so weak and pathetic.
But the fare must be paid.
Mercy is not in my makeup, was not woven into me by the Apportioners three, not allotted me by fate or chance or fortuna. It is not that I mean to be disparaging – or perhaps I do, if I were to give it a bit of thought – but rules are rules; that is plain and reason enough.
I just do my job. And counseling and pity-party-partaking is not in my job description.
