Now, I don’t know ’bout other folks, all I know is for me, but copper never hurt so much. Sure I was hurtin’ before they gimme the copper, too, I guess, but not as bad as that, no way. And it was gettin’ worst, and worst, like it was burning through me but I couldn’t let go. Folks always say it’s what gets you in the end. Could be you been shot a bunch’a times, could be you been gutted open head to toe, but until that copper gets on you and you pay that damned ferryman, you ain’t really dead.
So when that bastard put his hand out asking for it, I told him he could go right straight to Hell without me. Threw the goddamned coins in the river, told him to get it himself if he wants it so bad. Bugger wouldn’t take no, tried’ta grab my arm, and when I pulled away from him he lost his balance. Piss-poor sailor, you ask me.
Well, I ain’t a guy to stick around for trouble like that. Let the bastard drown, that’s what I say, better him than me. Turned ’round and left the way I came.
And that’s how I got to be here again. Ain’t no ‘living dead’ nonsense, ’cause I didn’t die in the first damned place.
Now if you ain’t got any other way to pay for this flour, miss, then you best get moving along, ’cause I just don’t take copper no more. And if you seen what I seen, you wouldn’t trust the damned stuff neither.
