Charon

Chapter 1

My name is Charon. Most people think it's Karen. I don't correct them. That's what my birth certificate says, after all. But I've known since I was eighteen that Charon is my real name. And, like being a Karen, I'm not the only one. It's more a title, really, than a name. In a world of eight billion people, there have to be many Charons.

You see, we ferry people across the river Styx from the Land of the Living to the Underworld. Well, 'ferry' is really a misnomer. These days, most of us drive. Yes, even the Underworld has modernized. No more flat-bottomed boats poled over across the water at an agonizingly slow pace. No, now we have roads and bridges and up-to-date ferries for vehicles, so we can get the job done quickly and efficiently.

My ride happens to be a 2004 Chrysler Crossfire. She's old, but she's pretty, and she's fast. With ashtrays not being a feature for cars anymore, it's getting harder to find a car with a built-in coin receptacle that quickly morphs into what's needed to accept the ferryman's coin. If I'd had a Mustang or Charger, I'd have had to modify something, but the Crossfire, a sweet two-seater sports car made between the years of 2004 and 2008, came with the perfect coin holder for the obolos, the denomination of coin the dead give me for my efforts. It's worth about twenty bucks these days, which isn't much for the ride, but I don't take modern money. The car magically changes the coins into twenty-dollar bills, so I get paid on the spot. And it's all under the table, so I don't have to report the income to the IRS. Can't beat that!

The recently deceased must have an ancient obolos to be taken across the river. That's the one hard and fast rule. And, the only surefire way of getting an obolos is to be dead and have funeral rites. At some point during those rites—and cremation counts as rites, which is a whole 'nother story—an obolos appears in your possession, often in your mouth, but these days, it is just as apt to pop into existence in your hand, pocket, or sock. There are other, more nefarious and devious ways of getting them, but I try not to think about it.

So, if you haven't figured out, this isn't my full-time job. It doesn't pay enough to be. I work it when I can, picking up those in need as I go about my day, kinda like the Uber of Death. Like I said, it doesn't pay much, but it is fulfilling work. Getting souls where they need to go is important; you do not want to contemplate having a pile-up of lost souls walking around in the Land of the Living.

Now, as for what I do in my everyday job, you're not going to believe it. I'm a life coach. No, seriously, I am. And I do very well with high-end clients. What I like most about it is that I can do the job on the go. So, I can combine these two professions... helping some people live their lives and helping others find their place once dead. I'm just thankful that the Underworld has good cell reception and that the dead don't say much. They don't say anything at all, in fact, and they keep secrets very well. So, I can talk to my coach clients as I ferry souls around all day. And I do.

Right now, I'm in a rare lull between clients and the dead. I dropped off my passenger and ended the call with my last client of the day a few minutes ago. Now, it's just a matter of heading home to change for the evening's grand reopening of the city's main library. It has been closed for over a year for much-needed renovations. A dedicated patron of the library had left the city a substantial amount of money earmarked for the maintenance and upkeep of the library system when they died. The library board had jumped on the opportunity to make repairs to the building, expand the space, and add an outdoor reading space to the establishment. Tonight, we will see it in all its newfound glory.

I'm excited about the evening, mostly because my best friend, Jane, who is the head librarian, is excited about the event. She's been working hard on it and even hand-wrote the important invitations in her beautiful, loopy handwriting.

My phone rings, and I check the pop-up screen of my aftermarket radio to see who is calling. Seeing that it is Jane, I immediately tap to accept the call. "Girlfriend! I'm heading home to change right now," I explain. "Everything alright?"