Copyright (c) Jeremiah Morelli 2008. All rights reserved.

The Ferryman

 (Translated into English from "Der Fährmann")

Jack certainly wasn’t a good man. Actually, he was quite an asshole. His temper was inconsistent and his conscience limited, if existent at all.

He always lived as if there were no tomorrow and therefore never really cared for the welfare of others, as long as his own life was just running smooth.

Jack Miller inhabited an apartment in a grey metropolitan city. The flat was large and very nice and he hadn’t paid rent for years. The landlord would possibly turn to the local police in order to claim his money, but it seemed more likely nothing of that sort would ever happen, because Jack was no person others wanted to piss off. He had killed people and everybody knew that. Fear was a type of power he had learned to master young. Even the authorities feared his rage and tried never to trouble him. Nobody told him what to do. Nobody stood in his way. He earned his money through the pain of others and he didn’t give a damn. Life wasn’t fair and the world needed people like him to keep it that way. He was just that type of guy.

    And he was dead.

Jack had heard footsteps in the hallway and had gotten up to see what was going on.  He had come just in time to watch his apparently not all too loyal bodyguard place a silencer on his gun. Everything after that was like an odd blur. He simply couldn’t focus on remembering.

He was standing in his living room now and in front of him lay his body like a strange reflection on the carpet. There was a little hole between his eyes. Parts of the scull and brain decorated the wall behind the precious vases he had stolen from some guy in Chinatown. The bodyguard was gone, probably thinking of the bounty he was sure to receive. A neighbour was glancing through the apartment door, looking more puzzled and curious than sad. He was standing there in a morning robe, holding a cup of coffee and staring down at the bloody corps, as if it were a piece of modern art.

Damn it, I’m dead. At first Jack wasn’t capable of thinking of anything else, but then he started to move away from his body, and a far more striking thought came to his mind: Damn, I’m going straight to hell!

Like a ghost he floated through his apartment’s ceiling, then through the apartment above. A moment later even the roof was below, but he still kept rising. He felt as if a strong current were pulling him up and he was gaining momentum with every second that passed. The city below fell apart to an entity of a thousand colours and blurred movement, and the sky above was no longer blue. A white plain stretched from one horizon to another.

A moment later the city had disappeared completely and Jack landed somewhere. He was standing within the white haze he had seen and there was a lonely figure in the distance. Having no real alternative he headed towards that person and halted only a few feet away. The figure was wrapped inside grey garments and the face was only half visible underneath a deep hood.

“Who are you?” Jack asked. “And where are we?”

The figure shook back his hood and Jack looked into the face of a young man with golden hair, friendly eyes and skin as clean as marble. A great pair of wings suddenly unfolded and Jack realized he was standing in front of a live angel.

“I am the guardian,” the other spoke and smiled. “I’m here to greet all newcomers within the mists of eternity. It is my task to show them the way to paradise.”

“Paradise?” Jack echoed. “You mean… like heaven?”

“I do.”

“And will you show me the way too?”

The angel nodded. “Heaven is for every soul. No exceptions are made.”

Jack laughed aloud. He felt a huge weight dropping from his heart. “And I thought I’d have to burn in hell for the rest of eternity. You sure there’s no mistake here?  Am I really going to heaven?”

“There is no hell, Jack.”

“This is getting better and better.” Again he laughed. He had enjoyed every day of his life. Never had he done any good, but now that didn’t matter at all. Happily he raised his hands. “Then I won’t waste any more of your time, good angel, because heaven is waiting, isn’t it?”

The angel smiled an odd smile Jack couldn’t quite interpret, and once more distrust gained control of him.

“You didn’t just tell me lies now?” he queried the angel. “Heaven is for anyone, right?”

“Angels never lie.” The guardian replied. “Heaven is indeed for every- and anyone.”

“Great.” Jack beamed and finally forgot all his human distrust. “Then tell me how to get there.”

Nodding, the angel touched Jack’s shoulder and pointed out into the mist. “Go that way and you will come to a river. That’s the Hades. It separates the mist from heaven.”

“What will I have to do to get to the other side? Swim?”

“No. The water would swallow you.” The angel smirked. “But don’t worry. It won’t be hard to find a passage. Thousands of ferries will be awaiting your arrival along the bank. Every boat will get you to the other side safely. You may choose the one you like the most.”

“Well I’ll better be off then. Perhaps we’ll see each other again.”

He ran off into the haze and at first all he could see were infinite white billows, but then the fog lifted and he stood at the shores of the Hades.

The water was as black as night but beyond that were the banks of heaven. A light breeze carried along the sound of music and laughter. The entire horizon behind the Hades was a world of glory, and the people living there were all happy. They danced amid great trees and sang pleasant songs.

And the angel really had told the truth: Boats of every sort and type flanked the riverbed. Barks, rafts, gondolas and other vessels lay there, and every one had it’s own ferryman. They were like the guardian, Jack thought. They were only here to greet and serve those who came from earth. There were thousands, maybe even millions. God really had provided.

“Here, sir,” one of them yelled. “I will take you to heaven.”

“No,” another called. “Take my boat instead. It is the sturdiest of all.”

Every ferryman greeted Jack’s arrival with willing helpfulness, and he was speechless. Never before had he registered such hospitality. Heaven was calling his name, and so, without wasting any more time he quickly chose a nice looking boat.

“Oh lord,” the ferryman said and shook his hand. “Are you ready for the ride?”

“I am if you are,” Jack answered gladly.

The ferryman nodded and went to the boat’s bow, then he dipped his oar into the Hades and they left the shore. The river carried many waves and the water bubbled like a swamp, but the boat never even shook. Paradise came closer.

“Not much further,” the ferryman reckoned. “Just a few more seconds.”

Jack had to admit: “You’re doing great,” and the ferryman nodded and smiled.

The boat finally reached the sands of heaven and the ferryman put down his oar. Jack cheered and wanted to jump ashore, but suddenly there was something that held him back. No matter how much he tried he just couldn’t leave the boat.

The ferryman stepped into the sand and turned around.

“Heaven is for everyone,” he said with one more smile. “The guardian never lied to you my friend, but heaven has to be earned.”

He pointed towards the other bank and the white mist beyond. “I had to wait many years for a passenger, but now my wait is finally over. Thank you, Jack. Now take the rudder and return to where we came from. You are now the ferryman.”

the end