12.

We stood in the shadows of Valencia Boulevard, looking up at dull gold letters imprinted in black marble: DOA RECORDING STUDIOS.
Underneath, stencilled on the glass doors: NO SOLICITORS. NO LOITERING. NO LIVING.
It was almost midnight, but the lobby was fiercely lit and chock-full of people. Behind the security desk sat a rough-looking guard with shades and an earpiece.
Percy turned to us. "Okay. Yu remember the plan."
"The plan," Grover gulped. "Yeah. I love the plan."
A pessimistic thought entered my mind… "What happens if the plan doesn't work?"
"Don't think negative."
"Right," I said. "We're entering the Land of the Dead, and I shouldn't think negative."
Percy looked at the pearls dejectedly. I was dampening his spirit and courage of the possibility of getting out of the Underworld alive.
I put a hand on Percy's shoulder, reassuringly. "I'm sorry, Percy. You're right, we'll make it. It'll be fine."
I gave Grover a nudge.
"Oh, right!" He chimed in. "We got this far. We'll find the master bolt and save your mom. No problem."
He looked at us both again, with a mixture of feelings showing in his eyes; the main one I could figure out was: grateful.
He slipped the pearls back into his pocket. "Let's whup some Underworld butt."
We walked inside the DOA lobby.
Muzak played softly through invisible speakers. The carpet and walls were a depressing, steel grey. Pencil cactuses grew in the corners like skeleton hands. The furniture was gloomy, black leather, and every seat was occupied. There were people lounging on couches, people standing up, people stared dismissively out of the window or waiting for the elevator. Nobody stirred; nobody conversed, or did much of anything. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see them perfectly, but if I focused on one in particular, they started appearing… transparent. I could see right through their bodies.
The security guards desk was a raised pedestal, so we had to look up to see him.
He was tall and well-dressed, with chocolate-coloured skin and bleached blonde hair shaved military style. He wore tortoiseshell sunglasses and a silk Italian suit that matched his hair. A lack rose was pinned to his lapel under a silver name tag.
I read the name tag, and it said… Chiron?
Percy asked the question that was in mind, "You name is Chiron?"
He leaned over the reception desk. I couldn't see anything in his glasses except my own reflection, his smile was sweet and cold, like a python's, right before it gobbles you.
"What a precious young lad." He had a outlandish tone of voice- British, perhaps, but also as if he had been educated English as a second verbal communication. "Tell me, mate, do I look like a centaur?"
"N-no." Percy stammered.
"Sir," He added smoothly.
"Sir," Percy said.
he pinched his name tag and ran his fingers under the letters. "Can you read this, mate? It says C-H-A-R-O-N. Say it with me: CARE-ON."
"Charon."
"Amazing! Now Mr. Charon."
"Mr Charon." Percy said.
"Well done." He sat back in his chair. "I hate being confused with that old horse-man. And now, how may I help you little dead ones?"
Percy looked at me shooting the question: Err…..What do we want? To me.
"We want to go to the Underworld," I said. Simple.
Charon's mouth twitched. "Well, that's refreshing."
"Is it?" I said.
"Straightforward and honest. No screaming. No 'There must be a mistake, Mr Charon'." He looked us over. "How did you die, then?"
Percy nudged Grover.
"Oh," He said. "Um…drowned…in the bathtub."
"All three of you?" Charon asked.
We nodded.
"Big bath tub." Charon looked mildly impressed. "I don't suppose you have coins for passage. Normally, with adults, you see, I could charge your American Express, or add the ferry price to your last cable bill. But with children… alas, you never die prepared. Suppose you have to take a seat for a few centuries."
"Oh, but we have coins." Percy set three golden Drachmas on the counter, part of the stash He'd found in Crusty's office desk."
"Well, now…" Charon moistened his lips. "Real Drachmas. Real golden Drachmas. I haven't seen these in…"
His fingers hovered greedily over the coins.
We were so close.
Then Charon looked at Percy. He stared at him suspiciously. "Here now,"
He said. "You couldn't read my name correctly. Are you dyslexic, lad?" Busted.
"No," Percy said. "I'm dead."
Charon leaned forward and took a sniff. "You're not dead. I should've known. You're a godling."
"We have to get to the Underworld." Percy insisted.
Charon made a deep growling sound in his throat.
Instantly, all the people in the waiting room stood up and started pacing, restless, lighting cigarettes, running their hands through their hair, or inspecting their wristwatches.
"Leave while you can," Charon told us. "I'll just take these and forget I saw you."
He started going for the coins, but Percy snatched them out of his reach.
"No service, no tip." His voice was slightly trembling.
Charon growled again- a unfathomable, blood-chilling sound. The spirits of the dead started pounding on the elevator doors.
"It's a shame too," Percy sighed. "We had more to offer."
He held up our entire bag of Drachmas. Percy took out a fist full of coins and let them spill through his fingers like sand, back into the bag.
Charon's growl changed into something that sounded somewhat like a lion's purr. "Do you think I can be bought, godling? Eh… just out of curiosity, how much have you got there?"
"A lot," Percy said. "I bet Hades doesn't pay you well enough for such hard work."
"Oh, you don't know the half of it. How would you like to babysit these spirits all day? Always 'Please don't let me be dead' or 'Please let me across for free'. I haven't had a pay rise in three thousand years. Do you imagine suits like these come cheap?"
"You deserve better," Percy agreed. "A little appreciation. Respect. Good pay."
With each word, Percy stacked another gold coin on the counter, creating a tall, lean tower of Drachmas.
Charon glanced down at his Italian suit, as if imaging himself in something better. "I must say, lad, you're making some sense now. Just a little."
He stacked another few coins. "I could mention a pay rise while I'm talking to Hades."
He sighed. "The boats almost full, anyway. I might as well add you three and be off."
He stood, scooped up the money, and said. "Come along."
We pushed through the crowd of waiting spirits, who started seizing at or clothes like the airstream, their voices murmuring things I couldn't understand. Charon thrusting them out of the way, grumbled, "Freeloaders."
He guided us into the elevator, which was already crowded with souls of the dead, each one holding a green boarding pass. Charon grabbed two spirits who were trying to get on with us and pushed them back into the entrance hall.
"Right. Now, no one get any ideas while I'm gone." He announced to he waiting room. "And f anyone moves the dial off my easy-listening station again, I'll make sure you're here for another thousand years. Understand?" That's harsh.
He slammed the doors shut. He put a key card into the slot in the elevator panel and we started to descend.
"What happens to the spirits waiting in the lobby?" I asked.
"Nothing," Charon said.
"For how long?"
"Forever, or until I'm feeling generous." I am not looking forward to death (Not that I was anyways!)
"Oh," I didn't want to get on this guys bad side. "That's … fair."
Charon raised an eyebrow. "Whoever said death was fair, young miss? Wait until it's your turn. You'll die soon enough, where you're going."
"We'll get out alive," Percy said. I hope.
"Ha."
I suddenly got a dizzy feeling. We weren't going down any longer, but forward. The air turned hazy. Spirits around my started to change shape; their modern clothes flashed, turning into grey hooded robes. The floor of the elevator started swaying.
This swaying was giving me a nausea feeling. I blinked a couple of times. Charon's creamy Italian suit morphed into a long black robe. His tortoiseshell glasses were gone. Where his eyes should've been, were empty dark sockets, filled with night, death and despair.
He turned to Percy and said, "Well?"
"Nothing." Percy replied.
Charon was getting bloodcurdling by every second, his flesh of his face was becoming transparent, allowing me too see right through too his skull.
The floor kept swaying.
Grover said, "I think I'm getting seasick."
I realized that the elevator wasn't an elevator anymore, it was a wooden barge. Charon was poling us across a dark, oily, river, swirling with bones, dead fish and other, odd things- plastic dolls, compressed carnations, waterlogged diplomas with gilt edges. All happy memories and wishes that never came true. There was only one river that was filled with them kind of things…"The River Styx," I murmured. "It's so…"
"Polluted," Charon said. "For thousands of years, you humans have been throwing in everything as you come across- hopes, dreams, wishes that never came true. Irresponsible waste management, if you ask me."
Mist coiled off the grimy water. Above us, mislaid in the obscurity, was a ceiling of stalactites. Ahead, the far shore shimmered with greenish light, the colour of poison.
Dread flooded my mind. What was I doing here? These people all around me… they were lifeless.
I grabbed hold of Percy's hand. Under normal circumstances, I would be blushing out of embarrassment, but I wanted to be reassured that somebody else on this boat was alive. Percy didn't seem to mind, he looked really pale, and gripped my hand back, tightly.
After a few moments, the shore of the Underworld came into view. Rough rocks and blank volcano sand stretched inland about fifty metres to the base of high stone wall, which spread off in either direction as far as the eye could see. A sound came from somewhere close by in the green darkness, echoing off the stones- the howl of a great animal.
"Old Three-Face is hungry," Charon said. His smile turned skeletal in the greenish light. "Bad look for you, godlings."
The bottom of our boat slid onto the black sand. The dead began to disembark. Adults holding youngster's hands.
Charon said, "I'd wish you luck, mate, but there isn't any down here. Mind you, don't forget to mention my pay rise."
He counted our golden coins into his pouch, and then took up his pole. He hummed something that sounded like a Barry Manilow song as he ferried the empty barge back across the river.
We followed the spirits up a well-worn path.

A couple of minutes later, we stood, gazing up at the entrance to the Underworld, which looked like a cross between airport security and the Jersey Turnpike.
There were three separate entrances under one gigantic black arch-way that said: YOU ARE NOW ENTERING EREBUS. Each entrance had a pass through metal detector mounted with security cameras. Ahead of this were tollbooths run by black-robed phantoms like Charon.
The howling of the hungry animal was really loud now, but I couldn't figure out where it was coming from. The three-headed dog, Cerberus, who was supposed to safeguard Hades's door, was nowhere in sight.
The spirits of the dead queued up in the three lines two marked: ATTENDANT ON DUTY, and one marked: EZ DEATH. The EZ DEATH line was moving along, speedily. The other two were going as slow as a snail.
"What do you figure?" Percy asked me.
"The fast line must go straight to Asphodel," I said. "No contest. They don't want to risk judgement from the court, because it might go against them."
"There's a court for dead people?"
"Yeah. Three judges. They switch around who sits on the bench. King Minos, Thomas Jefferson, Shakespeare – people like that. Sometimes they look at a life and decide that person needs a special reward- the fields of Elysium. Sometimes they decide o a punishment. Bust most people, well, they just lived. Nothing special, good or bad. So they go to the Field of Asphodel."
"And do what?"
Grover said, "Imagine standing in a wheat field in Kansas. Forever."
"Harsh," Percy said.
"Not as harsh as that," Grover muttered. "Look."
A couple of black-robed ghouls had pulled aside one spirit and were frisking him at the security desk.
"He's that preacher who made the news, remember?" Grover asked.
"Oh, yeah." They didn't have TV at camp so I had no idea who they were talking about. But I had a feeling he did something pretty bad. "What're they doing to him?"
"Special punishments from Hades," Grover guessed. "The really bad people get his personal attention as soon as they arrive. The Fu- the Kindly Ones will set up an eternal torture for him."
The thought sent a chill down my spine. This is where they lived. We would be seeing them again soon.
"But if he's a preacher," Percy said. "and he believes in a different hell…"
Grover shrugged. "Who says he's seeing this place the way we're seeing it? Humans see what they want to see. They're very stubborn- er, persistent, that way."
We got closer to the gates. The howling was so loud now it quivered the floor, but I still couldn't figure out where it was coming from.
Then, about fifteen metres in front of us, the green mist shimmered. Standing just where the path split into lanes was a] mammoth vague monster.
I hadn't noticed it before because it was half transparent, like the dead. Until it moved, it blended in with whatever was behind it. Only its eyes and teeth looked solid. And it was staring straight at us.
I was stunned, it looked just like the dog we (meaning my dad and me) used to have at our house- except it had two extra heads.
The dead walked right up to him- no fear at all. The ATTENDANT ON DUTY lines parted on either side of him. The EZ DEATH spirits walked right in between his front paws and under his belly, which they could do without even crouching.
"I'm starting to see him better." Percy murmured. I was also starting to see Cerberus clearer. "Why is that?"
"I think…" I moistened my lips nervously. If the rumours were true..."I'm afraid it is because we are getting closer to being dead."The dog's middle head craned in the direction of us. It sniffed the air and growled.
"It can smell the living." Percy stated.
"But that's okay," Grover said, trembling next to us. "Because we have a plan."
"Right," I tired to keep my self calm. But my voice betrayed me; I sounded like a mouse. "A plan."
We moved towards the monster.
The middle head snarled at us, then barked so loud my ears throbbed.
"Can you understand it?" Percy asked Grover.
"Oh, yeah," He said. "I can understand it."
"What's it saying?"
"I don't think humans have four-letter word that translates, exactly."
Percy took the big stick out of his backpack- a bed post he'd broken off Crusty's Safari Deluxe florr model. He held it up, and tried to channel happy dog thoughts towards Cerberus- Alpo commercials, cute little puppies, fire hydrants. He attempted at a smile, weakly.
"Hey, Big Fella," Percy called up. "I bet they don't play with you much."
"GROWWWLLLL!"
"Good boy," Percy said feebly.
He waved the stick. I hoped the plan would work. The dog's middle head followed he movement. The other two heads were fixed completely onto Percy. He had Cerberus's undivided attention. I wasn't sure whether that was a good thing.
"Fetch!" Percy threw the stick into the gloom, a good solid throw. I heard it go ker-sploosh in the River Styx.
Cerberus glared at Percy, clearly unimpressed. His yes were baleful a cold.
So much for the plan.
Cerberus was now making a new kind of growl, deeper down in his three throats.
"Um," Grover said. "Percy?"
"Yeah?"
"I just thought you'd want to know."
"Yeah?"
"Cerberus? He's saying we've got ten seconds to pray to the god of our choice. After that…well… He's hungry."
I suddenly had a brilliant idea. "Wait!" I said. I started searching my back-pack for the red rubber ball that I had packed from the Waterland Park.
"Five seconds," Grover said. "Do we run now?"
I produced the ball from my bag, the size of a grape fruit. I raised the ball and marched straight up to Cerberus. I had done dog obedience before for he dog we owned at my dad's.
I shouted, "See the ball? You want the ball, Cerberus? Sit!"
Cerberus looked stunned at my courage.
All three heads cocked sideways. Six nostrils dilated.
"Sit!" I called again.
Cerberus licked his three sets of lips, shifted on his haunches, and sat, instantly crushing a dozen spirits who'd been passing underneath him in the EZ DEATH line. The spirits made barely audible hisses as they dissolute, like the air let out of tyres.
But my concentration was on Cerberus, I said, "Good boy!"
I threw the ball to Cerberus.
He caught it in his centre mouth. It was only just big enough for him to chew, and the other heads started snapping at the middle, trying to get their n toy.
"Drop it!" I ordered.
Cerberus's heads stopped fighting and looked at me. The ball was trapped between two of his teeth like a tiny piece of gum. He made a loud, scary whimper, then dropped he ball- just as I asked- now slippery and bitten practically in half, at my feet."Good boy." I picked the ball up, ignoring he monster drool all over it. Eww… it was all sticky and slimy.
I turned towards my friends, "G now. EZ DEATH line – it's faster."
Percy said, "But-"
"Now!" I ordered them in the same commanding tone I had used on the dog.
They inched forward cautiously.
Cerberus started to growl.
"Stay!" I ordered the monster. "If you want he ball, stay!"
Cerberus whimpered, but stayed where he was.
"What about you?" Percy asked me as he passed me.
"I know what I'm doing, Percy," I muttered. I had experience from my own dog. "At least, I'm pretty sure…"
They walked between the monsters legs.
When they passed through safely, I felt truly alone.
I said, "Good dog!"
I held up the tattered ball, even though I wouldn't have another trick to play on the dog afterwards, and threw it at the dog. The monster's left mouth snatched it straight away, only to be attacked by the middle head while the head on the right whined in complaint.
While the monster was distracted, I walked briskly under it's belly and joined Grover and Percy at the metal detector.
"How did you do that?" Percy asked me, amazed.
"Obedience school," I said breathlessly, it brought back happy memories that made me miss my favourite pet. "When I was little, at my dad's house, we had a Dobermann…"
"Never mind hat…" Grover said, tugging at Percy's shirt. "Come on!"
We were about to bolt through the EZ DEATH line when Cerberus moaned pitifully from all three mouths, just like my old dog did. I stopped.
I turned to face the dog, which had done a one-eighty to look at us.
Cerberus panted expectantly, the tiny red ball in pieces in a puddle of drool at its feet.
"Good boy," I said, but my voice was melancholy and doubtful. My brain still flooded with memories from the past.
The monsters head turned sideways, whimpering slightly.
"I'll bring you another ball soon," I promised faintly. "Would you like that?"
The dog whimpered.
"Good dog. I'll visit you soon. I-I promise."
I turned to my friends. "Let's go."
Grover and Percy pushed through the metal detector, which immediately began to scream and set off flashing red lights. "Unauthorized possessions! Magic detected!"
Cerberus began to bark.
We burst through the EZ DEATH gate which started even more alarms blaring, and raced into the Underworld.
A few minutes later, we were hiding, out of breath, in the decayed trunk of an colossal black tree as security ghouls scampered past, yelling for backup from the Furies.
Grover murmured, "Well, Percy, what hev we learned today?"
"That three-headed dogs prefer red rubber balls over sticks?"
"No," Grover told him. "We've learned that you're plans really, really bite!"
I thought me and Percy had the right idea. Even here in the Underworld, everybody- even monsters- needed a little attention once in a while. I listened the mournful keening of Cerberus in the distance, I wiped a tear from me cheek as even miserabler memories flew into my brain.