Ghostly Echoes (Jackaby, #3)

by William Ritter

“I thought you were Greek.” “I don’t bother much with politics. I am the ferryman.” “But you’re real,” I said. “And this place is real.” “Yes.” “So who had it right, then?” “I do not understand the question.” “The afterlife. There are lots of different versions, and they can’t all be true. Heaven, Hell, the Happy Hunting Ground — which is it? You’re here, so does that mean there’s a Hades with an Elysium and a Tartarus and everything?” “Why would there not be?” “Well, because a moment ago you were talking about Valhalla.” Charon pressed forward. The mist split around the masthead, curling into eddies that spun ghostly pirouettes over the surface of the river, the whole dance reflected below in the wine-dark waters. “Do you know the fable of the blind men and the elephant?” “I’m afraid I haven’t heard that one,” I said. “A woman from the Hunan Province told it to me,” said Charon. “Once upon a time a stranger came to a remote village with an elephant. Everyone got excited, including three blind men who didn’t know what an elephant was. They decided to find out for themselves. “The first man approached the elephant near its head. He reached his hand out and felt the leathery ear. The second man approached from behind and brushed the elephant’s bristly tail. The third came at it from the side and stroked its wide midsection. “ ‘What a strange creature an elephant is,’ the first man said. ‘So flat and thin, like wash hung from the line.’ “ ‘What are you talking about?’ said th...