Page 21 - Ferry Tales

Milton

Tried to bite you, didn’t she? Probably thought from a distance
that you were a paper Foo Dog. Some people can’t take a hint, even
when it’s snarling and slavering in their face. Ah, well, it was a bit of
excitement for you, Cerberus: most of them just go meekly into the
furnace, and you might as well be made of stone.
But her aggressiveness is not surprising.
“I want a receipt for that!” she demands, as soon as I can get her
to pay the fare.
“Forget it, Milton.” I caution her. “You won’t need to provide
your accountant any more of your questionable tax-deductible
business expenses.”
“So you know my name, eh? Who the Hell do you think you are,
giving me advice?”
“Oh, I guess we haven’t been properly introduced,” I put on a bit
of mock-deference to see how far she’ll go with her arrogance. “I’m
just a poor infernal ferryman, eking out a miserable living pushing
this fragile craft back and forth across a dark polluted river. You are
Frieda Milton, accustomed to dealing with no one lowlier than a limo
driver.”
“That’s right. Why didn’t anyone charter a helicopter for me? This
is way too slow!”
“If you knew where you were going, you might not be in such a
hurry. And this is the only way to get to your destination.”
That made her take a good look at the situation. “Wait a minute.
I’ve got a meeting at two-thirty with the controller of Aerosolutions.
How did I get here?”
“Choked on a fishbone, and none of your flunkies knew the
Heimlich Maneuver.” I didn’t add that none of them wanted to touch
her.
“Damn it!” she says. “Why am I surrounded by idiots?”
“Is that a rhetorical question?’

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