The Ferryman

“I heard that you are The Ferryman.” I said to the man in the dirty overcoat tucked into a corner of the grimy bar where he nursed a glass of beer.

“You have the wrong guy. I’m just out for a beer before the wife gets back from third shift.” He rasped, ashing his cigarette into the dish beside his drink.

“No, I’m sure I have the right guy. Miyamoto told me about you. He said to look for the ghost in a ratty coat. That’s you.” I pointed my finger at him. He was pale, but that could have been chalked up to the neon of the bar lights. However, I knew better. Skippers grew paler the more they jumped. The technical term for his complexion was “time drag”. If a Skipper jumped enough, he became as translucent as a ghost, his bones and organs visible to the naked eye.

The Ferryman wasn’t quite there yet, he still had most of his features, but the shadow of his grinning skull could be seen when the light hit his face. I sat down next to him and ordered another round for him and the same for myself.His protest died as the bartender set the drinks down.

“Well, what is it that you want” he said taking a long drag off his cigarette and putting it out in the ash tray.

“You’re the Ferryman. I have a destination in mind.” I said, taking a sip of the beer. I was surprised to find that it was light, crisp, and tasted like oranges and wheat, something better than the cheap light beer the other patrons had ordered.

“Well, where do you want to go? The Titanic, Katrina? I hear that the Ardennes is beautiful once the smoke clears. I can only jump about two hundred years back, but the farther you want to go, the more it will cost.” He said, eyes darting around to see who was listening to our conversation. The bartender was occupied with a couple who arrived separately and thought that everyone couldn’t tell that they were married. The signs were obvious, but the bartender was chasing a fat tip. The other people in the bar couldn't be bothered to look up from their drinks to notice either.

“I was thinking something off-road.” I said, leaning closer, conspiratorially.

The Ferrymen chuckled and leaned in to match me. “You, like everyone else, knows that jumping can only be done to permitted times and locations as outlined in the temporal protection act. We can only go to disasters. Places where history cannot be changed. Why don’t you hire one of those travel services if you want to see the past so badly.”

“I don’t want to go to a disaster or a permitted location. I want to go to a specific location and Miyamoto says you’re the guy who can make that happen” I snarled, sharpness creeping into my voice.

“Look, I’ve seen your type before. I don’t do revenge jumps. I don’t care who slept with your wife or what stock you did or didn’t invest in. Going back won’t change how stupid you are. If it wasn’t this mistake, it would be a different one and you’ll have wasted your money and more importantly, my time.” The Ferryman made a move to get up, but I grabbed his arm.

“You don’t understand. I know I can’t change anything. I just want to see her one more time. I don’t want to forget her voice.” I said, desperation filling my voice to the brim. He finally took a good look at me and my rumpled clothes. I was still wearing the suit from my wife’s funeral.

“Look, call me Dennis. I won’t take you back, but I can do something that is a bit of a grey area. You’re going to have to pay the full faire though.” He pushed a business card across the table. “Half now, and half after. Wire the money to this account.” I flipped the card over and nearly choked on the number of zeros. “You wanted a jump off the books. You pay off-roading prices.” I pulled my phone out and wired the first half of the payment to him. His phone buzzed and he stood, downing the rest of his beer.

“Well, no time like the present.’ He started toward the door, and I quickly followed. The front door led into a gravel parking lot bathed in red neon. The Ferryman pulled another cigarette from his coat and lit it.

“Most people don’t understand time travel. They think it’s all about wormholes or some other sci-fi shit. I’d give you the whole “time is a river” speech but it isn’t, that’s just the easiest way to explain it. People forget that someone must take them.” He said, taking a long drag of his cigarette.

“I’ve seen other jumpers take busloads of people. Hell, my wife and I went and saw the Challenger explosion for our honeymoon.” I said before I remembered. Nicole had loved space and history, and the space race was one of her favorite topics. It was one of her favorite subjects to teach. The yawning pit that she used to fill widened just a bit more and I stopped walking. I could feel myself at the edge of that pit, staring into its yawning maw.

“Reminisce later. I get paid by the trip, not by the hour. The reason that you can take a busload of people to the 60’s is because there is a legion of jumpers working for that agency, each doing their part to hold the door open. Otherwise, the weight would crush each of those tourists and scatter what is, was, and eventually will be their atoms across history. Time doesn’t like to be fucked with, and it takes a lot of energy to do so. The more significant the event, the more energy required. If you can find a weak point, it makes it easier but those are few and far between” he said as we circled to the back of the bar. He rolled the sleeves of his coat up as he began feeling around the air with his eyes closed. His hands opened and closed until he grasped something solid. It looked like he grabbed the edge of something invisible floating in the air. He heaved, like he was opening a heavy door and peeled the air back. Reality curved like he was rolling up the corner of a rug that had been covering up television static.

“This is a weak spot that I will turn into a window. We aren’t going back in time, but you can see an event transpire. Give me your hand and focus on where and when you want to observe.” He reached down and grabbed my wrist. He pushed my hand towards the static and I flinched, thinking about time reasserting itself and turning my hand into ground beef. Dennis just pushed my hand against the static. It felt cool and smooth like a television screen. I focused on my last memory of Nicole and the static flickered until a stable picture formed.

I saw the intersection that Nicole had been crossing. She had been coming home from the grocery store and had her arms full while she spoke to me over the phone. She stood frozen, paused just before tragedy.

“Now, I can hold this image, and we can watch the next couple of minutes” he said as he braced against the peeled back flap of reality. The sound of idling cars, and the smell of grass and sunbaked pavement wafted from the image.

“… I love you too honey.” Nicole laughed as the light changed in the intersection. The green signal to walk flashed and she began to cross the street. Halfway across the paper bag in her arm broke. A soup can hit the ground, rolling away and my stomach dropped. She lunged for the soup can, as the sound of screeching tires filled my ears. I had heard this all before, through the tiny microphone of her phone but seeing it in HD felt like a gut punch. A car had run the red light and didn’t see her because she had ducked down going after the soup can. She died on impact. I felt the pit inside me widening, the ground under me slowly giving way. Why not jump in?

I grabbed a chunk of concrete from the ground. “What are you doing?” Dennis said, his eyes wide in panic. I felt the cool smoothness of the barrier preventing me from touching the static. Just like a television I thought. I swung the chunk of concrete at the screen, leaving a crack where it struck. Cracks began spiderwebbing across the opening until the pressure of the static blew the barrier outward, throwing Dennis and me back into the side of a dumpster, crystal shards shredding my thin jacket and slacks. The picture warped and returned to static, the points of light swirling as the sound of the world’s biggest and most pissed off blender on its maximum settings emanated from the hole.

Gravity began to shift as I felt a tug towards the opening. I stood and reached for Dennis, who was groaning as blood ran in rivulets down his face. He had cuts and scrapes all along his body and face. He felt the pull and stood with a start. The roar coming from the hole got louder as the pull grew stronger.

“You dumbass!” He shouted to be heard over the cacophony “You could have killed both of us. I’m going to close this before we both are thrown in jail, or reality becomes a fucking smoothie! You probably set off every temporal sensor that this state has!” He reached for the flap of reality that he had pulled away, fighting against the gravitational pull of the hole. I stood and ran to stop him. I needed to get in there. If I could get in there in that moment, I could stop Nicole from dying.

I scooped a fist-sized shard of crystal out of the gravel. Dennis was focused on closing the opening and did not see me. I slid the shard of crystal into his back. He shoved me backwards with a grunt. He made a gasping choking sound like he couldn’t quite catch his breath. The shard was sticking out of his back, and he reached around trying to pull it out but couldn’t quite get a grip on the shard.

He wheezed, blood spraying from his lips. “This hole is going to get stronger as time reasserts itself. You can’t put a Band-Aid on this. This isn’t drywall you can just patch. You fucked around with time and now it’s going to hit back.”

“What’s going to happen?” I said.

“You created an anomaly. It won’t stop until it eats you and erases you from existence. You can’t hurt time if you never existed.” He said, slumping against the metal dumpster as his eyes drooped. I had to fix this. I approached the opening and started to slide as I was sucked in. The last thing I saw was the pool of blood forming around Dennis as his body relaxed against the dumpster. The swirling lights that I had thought of as television static surrounded me as I fell.

I fell for only a moment before hot, sunbaked pavement slammed into me. I looked up and could see Nicole waiting to cross the intersection. I stood to my feet, relief washing over me. I could finally fix this. She laughed as she held her phone up to her ear. “… I love you too honey.” The light of the intersection changed, and she started to cross. Halfway across the intersection, the paper bag in her arm ripped and I lunged for the soup can. The sound of screeching tires filled my ears as I heard Nicole gasp. I laid crumpled on the pavement, as the life drained out of me.

I felt sunbaked pavement slam into me. I looked up and saw Nicole waiting to cross the intersection. I saw her cross the intersection and halfway across the paper bag ripped. The can of soup rolled away after hitting the pavement and I lunged. The screeching of tires filled my ears as I felt the impact of the car hitting me. I crumpled to the pavement, the life draining out of me.

I felt sunbaked pavement slam into me. I looked up and could see Nicole waiting to cross the intersection. I stood up and it dawned on me. I could save Nicole. I could save her for eternity. I would just have to take her place, every time. I lunged for the soup can as it rolled away, the sound of tires filling my ears.