Chapter 8 by WW (12)

"But I'm here right now," said Emily, "and I do have questions."

The Ferry Godmother nodded.

"What's a lew-pahn oh-vahn?"

The Ferry Godmother scowled a bit and seemed to be tasting, then chewing, the words.  "Ah!" she exclaimed at last.  "Yes, the Lupine Ovine!  What about him?"

"That's what the guy I call Bentley said is who he really is."

A flash of worry crossed the Ferry Godmother's face, then was gone.  "Now Emily," she began, "you can figure this out.  'Lupine' is pertaining to wolves, right?  'Ovine' is pertaining to sheep.  You knew that."

Emily didn't want to disappoint the Ferry Godmother by admitting she didn't.  "So, he's a wolf sheep?  That don't hardly make sense."

"Can you think of a phrase involving wolves and sheep?" prompted the Ferry Godmother.

"I'm sure I will later," said Emily, looking across the river.  She spotted another boat with a strange man at the helm.  "Who's that?"

The Ferry Godmother turned and looked the same direction.  "Oh," she said, "that's Charon.  He takes away the suitors who don't get roses."

Emily leaned back and let the sun warm her face.  "This is such a lovely place," she purred.  "Everyone is so nice and all the guys are so sweet." 

No sooner had she uttered those sentiments than the still was broken.  She looked across the river; a quartet of Yabbuts stood on the opposite bank, shouting in four-part cacophony.  "Are not!"  "Watch out!"  "Wolf in sheep's clothing!"  "Not here for the white raisins!"

Emily snapped her fingers twice.  The Ferry Godmother looked at her.  "Two snaps?"

" 'Wolf in sheep's clothing!' That's what you were saying before!"

The Ferry Godmother smiled.  "See?  I knew you knew.  What was the other snap for?"

"The white raisins," Emily confided.  "I think there's a box missing."

"Are you sure?  I can't imagine why anyone would steal them."

"I know," sighed Emily.  She brightened.  "Maybe somebody's really here for the white raisins!"

Emily sat up quickly.  "I just saw the most amazing thing," she said, barely above a whisper.  "It was a firefly in the middle of the day, but I could see her anyway."  Emily turned to the Ferry Godmother.  "Is she like the birds here?  Does she come talk with us, too?"

The Ferry Godmother nodded.  "If we're very lucky, she just might."