Necrophiliac's Honeymoon

by Paul Neuhaus

  She smiled, but she was also offended. She didn’t like us undermining a good funk. I could relate. “What do you want, Pandora?”

  Okay. All business. I could run with that. “I need your help,” I said. “It seems Orpheus got ahold of my pithos and dropped it into the Underworld.”

  She looked over her shoulder in the direction Amanda and I came from. Her eyes were suddenly sharp. “Into one of the sinkholes?”

  “I think so, yes.”

  “How did you let him get it away from you? That was damn sloppy.”

  I raised my hands, palms forward, admitting guilt. “Hey, no argument here. I’m a little off my game. I’ve been in a deep funk. I don’t know if you know what I mean...”

  Her demeanor softened, but only a little. “I can relate, but I’m still not happy the Greek equivalent of the Death Star is floating around loose down here.”

  “The Death Star? You’re exaggerating.”

  “Am I? How many of the Evils have you put back in the pithos?”

  My shoulders dropped. “Most of them,” I said. For obvious reasons, I wanted to move the attention off of myself. “By the way, this is my friend Amanda Venables.”

  Stephanie held out her hand and Amanda shook it. “Yes, hello. Your father’s here.”

  The lawyer’s jaw went slack. “He is? What— Which— I mean, how’s he doing?”

  Stephanie smiled. “He’s in good spirits.”

  Venables and I just stared back at her.

  We emerged from the tunnel into the biggest cavern I’d ever seen. The ceiling was completely lost in the darkness above. One of those tributary rivers ran through it and the dead shuffled in clusters everywhere. Charon, the ferryman went by us, pushing his little boat with his long pole. About a dozen newly-deceased people were in the craft with him. This is gonna sound weird, but seeing a little boat moving along an indoor waterway reminded me of It’s a Small World at Disneyland.

  The dead (or shades as they’re known) all looked at us hungrily. Like dogs in cages, waiting for an opportunity to get out.

  “What’s it like running this place?” Venables asked.

  “‘Running’ makes it sound grander than it is. I mediate disputes. I receive visitors. I make sure the gates stay locked. There’s not a whole lot to it, really.”

  “How often do you get visitors?” I said.

  The goddess of the Underworld thought for a minute. “I’m trying to remember the last one before you. I think it might’ve been Orpheus. Odysseus was here once.”

  “Wow. So, this is not a vacation destination.”

  “No, it’s not. I guess we wasted all that gentrification money.”

  Amanda looked at me then back at the goddess. “Is that a joke?”

  “It’s a joke,” Stephanie confirmed. “The Underworld hasn’t changed much since the early days. There’re five districts—or neighborhoods, if you prefer.”

  Stephanie had been walking in the direction opposite the river’s current and we’d been following her. The room we were in gave way to a short tunnel. The tunnel opened up into a second cavern. Way bigger than the first. On the right-hand side, far away, was the main gate. A hundred-foot tall structure made of ivory and bone. On the left was a giant—“cellar” is the only word I can think of to describe it—barred by an iron grate with a padlock the size of a car. The grate emitted fumes from down below. Black fumes. In front of us, was another gate, this one only forty feet tall but more ornate and beautiful than the main one. Very Art Nouveau. Our hostess stopped to play tour guide. “The huge gate over there is the main exit and entrance. Usually, that’s where Cerberus sits, but he’s gotten crotchety in his old age and I let him wander. The stairway with the grate and the big lock is the entrance to Tartarus. That’s where Zeus cast the Titans after the big war. I’ve never been down there, but I hear it sucks. Through the smaller, prettier gate are the other provinces. First there’s the Asphodel Meadows. That’s where we keep the ordinary dead people. No heroes or villains there. Just goatherds and vintners and such. It’s actually one of the more pleasant places here. I like to walk there and breathe the air. Next to the Meadows is the Mourning Fields. That’s a little area reserved for people who wasted their lives on unrequited love. Don’t ask me why they were singled out. The Zoning Commission did its work before I came on board. Next to the Fields is Elysium. That’s where all the celebrities go. Achilles. Peleus. Odysseus is in there now. Even Socrates. On the other side of Elysium is a body of still water. In the middle of that are the Isles of the Blessed. When people make it into Elysium, they have the choice of staying or being reincarnated. If they decide to be reborn and then they make it into Elysium again, they can move over to the Isles of the Blessed. It’s like a gated community. Very Republican.”

  The quick breakdown of Underworld geography reminded me of my recent suicidal thoughts. I tried to be coy in front of Venables but there was something I really wanted to know. “So, Stephanie. You know me. You know my history. If I was to die, where do you think I’d go? Elysium maybe?”

  The goddess smiled. “Why? Were you thinking about dying anytime soon?”

  My eyes flicked to Amanda then back toward the Olympian. “Oh, not necessarily. Just kind of, you know, planning ahead.”

  “Well,” the goddess replied. “You’re barking up the wrong tree.” Between us and the gate into the Underworld proper, the river Styx ran. Between the river and the gate was a stone bench on a pedestal. Sitting on the bench were three men with long white beards. “Those’re the guys you need to ask,” she said. “That’s Minos, Rhadamanthus, and Aeacus, the Judges of the Underworld. They decide where you go after Charon drops you off. Good luck asking them, though. They ain’t gonna tell you shit.”

  Venables pointed to the Judge in the middle. “What’s that guy got around his neck?” she said. For the first time, I noticed that the guy in the middle had a heavy chain around his neck. From the chain dangled several metal objects.

  “That’s Aeacus,” Stephanie replied. “He’s the keeper of the Keys. The keys that open the main gate.”

  “Does he have the key to Tartarus?”

  “No. As of now, there is no key. Zeus had the only one and he had Hephaestus unmake it eons ago.”

  There was a bridge made of ivory over the fast-flowing river. I looked at the dead milling about and, again, I saw a hunger in their eyes. “Aren’t you afraid the dead’ll rise up and take the keys? They look pretty discontented to me.”

  Stephanie started walking again. “They’re not discontented. They’re mostly just bored. Plus, we’ve got security measures in place.” She pointed straight up. Whatever ceiling there was was lost in shadow. “Perched high above us are the Erinyes, better known as the Furies. They’re kind of like the flying monkeys from The Wizard of Oz. The dead are scared to death of them. I am too, if you wanna know the truth.”

  By that time, we were on the other side of the bridge and passing near the bench with the three judges. They watched us as we passed. I wanted to ask them about where I might end up when I was dead, but I was too intimidated. We had a ways to go before we reached the smaller gate, so I brought up a new topic. “Tell us about Orpheus coming here back in the day,” I said.

  Our glow-y hostess shrugged. “What’s to tell? The man’s a fine musician. One of the best that’s ever been. He’s also got a double-digit I.Q. He comes down here, and he does the impossible. Then he blows it. Very unimpressive.” She kicked a rock out of the path. “What’s your theory about why Orpheus stole your pithos? Why do you think he dropped it down here?”

  “We found out yesterday he’s in cahoots with Medea. The two of them are planning something. Something big.”

  “Ugh,” Stephanie slumped forward. “An imbecile and an uber-bitch. Nothing good can come from that.”

  “No. Nothing at all.”

  “So, you figure they grabbed your urn and dropped it into the Underworld to avoid you sucking them into it?”

  “Yep.
”

  “What’re they up to?”

  “I wish I knew,” I said. “We wrangled ourselves an interview with Medea, but she slipped us a mickey.”

  “She poisoned you?”

  “Hemlock.”

  Stephanie shook her head. “I guess I should find some comfort in that. Some things actually do never change.”

  “You could set your watch by that bitch.”

  The goddess thought for a minute. “Look, I was going to help you anyway, because I don’t want something as dangerous as your pithos down here in the Underworld. That said, I still want you to promise me something.”

  “What’s that?”

  “When you get your jug back, I want you to find Medea and put her into it. I don’t want her down here. Child-murdering piece of trash.”

  I held out my hand and Stephanie shook it. “Sister, you got yourself a deal. By the way, if you don’t mind my saying, your new tits look dynamite.”

  For the first time, the Olympian brightened. She cupped her breasts and boosted them. “Aren’t they fantastic?! Doctor Abendana of Beverly Hills. The man’s an artist.”

  By then we’d reached the gate leading into the various “neighborhoods” of the Underworld. I hadn’t noticed him before, but there was a man standing next to the gate. He wore the same kind of armor Brad Pitt wore in Troy complete with the Corinthian helmet. He carried a spear and stared straight ahead with luminous red eyes.

  “This is Thanatos,” Stephanie said. “I guess you could say he’s Death. Our Grim Reaper. Maybe you and he will be seeing one another again soon.” She nudged me with an elbow and the gate in front of us opened.

  I hate to invoke Disneyland again, but it really was the first thing I thought of. We were in a circular courtyard with two tall thrones in the middle. In the middle of the seat on the right, an unused crown sat. Iron just like Stephanie’s. Hades’ crown. Branching off in multiple directions were the pathways to the various districts. It was just like the hub at the end of Main Street U.S.A. As we walked, I leaned in toward Amanda. “How you holding up?” I whispered.

  “Fine,” she said, looking around in goggle-eyed wonder. “But I’m still not convinced this isn’t all just a giant gas-huff mirage.” Good old Venables.

  Stephanie put two fingers in her mouth and again made that high-pitched whistle. Amanda and I clamped our hands over our ears. After a moment, a tiny bat-like thing descended out of the darkness. It was about the size of my fist and had two membranous wings. The Olympian whispered to it and it flitted off again. “That was Leon. I told him to put a crew together and start looking for your jug. In the meantime, let’s take a little walk in the Asphodel Meadows.”

  She moved toward the leftmost path and we followed her. “What’s in the Asphodel Meadows?” I said.

  “Eurydice. I thought you might wanna talk to her.”

  The Asphodel Meadows were lower than the hub, so we had to walk down a set of cobblestone steps. “Be careful,” Stephanie said. “It can get a little slippery. It rains in the Meadows about once an hour. The most refreshing sweet-smelling rain. It’s why I like to walk here.”

  Once we were down the steps, we were looking at a huge expanse of green with intermittent willow trees. Flower pedals danced in the air, and the smell of honeysuckle was everywhere. I kind of fell in love with the place. I realized right away that, were I to die, I would be perfectly content to spend eternity in Asphodel. The thought gave me some comfort.

  “Come on,” our guide said. “Eurydice usually hangs out on the western side.”

  We walked under willows and skirted a wide, perfectly still lake. As above, there were shades wandering the landscape. Also, as above, they all looked hungry. Not in the sense of appetite but existentially. Seeing so many eyes with an unstated need behind them was unnerving. Even here, in this idyllic place, a desperate feeling hung in the air. “Seriously, Stephanie. Why do all the shades look so anxious?”

  The goddess again looked over her shoulder. “Do they? Am I just used to it?”

  Amanda too was watching the dead folk as we passed them. “I see what Dora’s talking about. They look a little high-strung.”

  “Huh,” Stephanie said. “No one’s complained about anything lately.”

  “Weird,” I said. “Hermes told me you told him the dead were restless.”

  “He did? I don’t know why he would say that. I haven’t spoken to Hermes in gods know how long.”

  Okay. That was damned peculiar. I don’t know why Hermes would’ve said that since he was not the type to make up conversations with Underworld custodians. He was a lot like Venables, actually. A lawyer’s mind. I filed it away for later consideration.

  “This way,” our hostess said. She took a smaller path branching off through the trees. The wind whipped up and dry leaves blew past us. Stephanie sniffed the air. “Uh oh,” she said. “We might get a little wet. I smell rain.” In time, the goddess took us to the base of a particularly enormous willow. In a hollow between two roots, a woman stood. She perked up when she saw the glowing figure approach. “Pandora, may I introduce you to Eurydice. Eurydice, this is Pandora.”

  Eurydice’s eyes grew wider. “Pandora?” she said. “As in Pandora Pandora?”

  “The same,” I replied. “I guess we’re unlucky enough to be two of mythology’s most famous women.”

  Eurydice nodded and smiled. Even though she was almost completely drained of color and her eyes were sunken, she still looked beautiful. I totally got why Orpheus had lost his goddam mind over her. “What in the Underworld brings you to Asphodel?” she said. “I would’ve never guessed in a thousand years I’d meet you today.”

  “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I’m afraid Orpheus is up to his old tricks. It looks like he’s working together with Medea to reunite with you.”

  Eurydice’s eyes flashed. She looked briefly at Stephanie and then back at me. “By Hephaestus’ shriveled gonads!” she said. “Why can’t that dirty son of a goatherd leave me alone?! I’m past it. I don’t want anything else to do with him! He’s the one that got me killed in the first place. And then lied about it!”

  I can’t say I was completely surprised by her reaction. “You’ve moved on?” I said.

  “Yes. I moved on long before the whole incident with him coming down here and charming everyone with his singing. I had no desire to go with him, but nobody asked me my opinion.” She looked over my shoulder at Stephanie.

  Stephanie raised both of her palms in a placating gesture. “Hey,” she said. “Guilty as charged.”

  “Did you say he was working with Medea?” Eurydice said to me.

  I felt the beginnings of a sprinkle on my skin. Oddly enough, I also smelled poppies. “Yeah. Do you know her?”

  “Medea? No, thank the gods. Child murdering she-devil.”

  “Yeah. Her I have met. She’s the worst. Listen—” Then the clouds opened up and the rain came down in what would’ve been a pleasant spring shower. I say would have been because the next few moments were amongst the most terrifying of my long life. Something about the precipitation in the Asphodel Meadows triggered a horrific reaction in Amanda and I. The water touched our skin and we began to leak a noxious vapor. Inconspicuously at first but then in billows from our pores, from our eyes, from our mouths, nostrils, ears, anuses and vaginas. We both fell to our knees as sweet-smelling gas poured out of us. We were like two living cones of incense. Incense that, were you to buy it in a store, would be labeled “Poppy”. Despite the reddish clouds pouring out of me, I could still see everything going on in my immediate vicinity. Stephanie covered her mouth and ran a short distance before collapsing in the wet grass. Her iron crown fell off and rolled away. All around us, Erinyes, the Furies, fell out of the overhead shadows and plopped onto the ground, unconscious. Only the shades were unaffected, and they looked around themselves in absolute wonder. Eurydice was the first of them to react. She ran away from us toward the hub connecting all the provinces of the Underwo
rld. Soon, the other shades followed suit. They knew an opportunity when they saw one.

  Finally, the gas stopped pouring out of Venables and myself. We both fell onto our sides, choking and sputtering. “What the fuck?” Amanda managed and with every syllable, a remaining puff of smoke issued from her mouth.

  Despite the fact I felt horrible, I forced myself into a seated position. I looked around. Nearby was Stephanie’s sleeping form. The grass all around us was littered with Furies, all of them out cold. Meanwhile, the exodus of the dead continued. I knew they’d bolt if they got the chance. And I’d just given them a chance. I stood up and pulled at my friend. “Come on,” I said. “We have to get moving. This is bad. Very, very bad.”

  Amanda wouldn’t budge. “I don’t want to,” she said. “Let me just lie here a minute.”

  “Amanda, we have to go. We have to get out of here!”

  “Just leave me...”

  I grabbed her hand and yanked her hard. “No, goddammit! Now move. We’re in the middle of a real shit show here.”

  The lawyer came to her feet though she wasn’t done pouting. “You’re mean.”

  We retraced our route back toward the hub. When we mounted the cobblestone steps and came to the circle with the two thrones, we saw that the smaller of the two gates was open and the dead were pouring through it. Next to the gate, Thanatos, Death himself, slept like a baby. I drew Amanda through the gate and saw exactly the thing I hoped I wouldn’t see. The three judges of the dead, Minos, Rhadamanthus, and Aeacus, were all asleep and some smart aleck shade had seized the keys. As soon as he had them, he was born on the shoulders of happy, shouting dead moving toward the main gate. “Holy fuck sauce,” I said. “It’s a prison break!”

  Venables’ strength was returning. “What’re we gonna do?” she said.

  I sighed, and my shoulders sagged. “I don’t know that there’s anything we can do.”

  For a moment, we watched the crowds surge toward freedom. “Say...” Amanda said. “Do you think my dad’s in there somewhere?”