"Oh, I see," he remarked, without surprise. If there had been any questions about his situation before, that statement certainly answered them plainly enough. It seemed he was now officially dead. "Well, then, off we go," David said and stepped aboard the ancient craft. There were three plank seats in the punt and David sat down in the one closest to the bow. He grabbed the gunwales as Charon pushed off from the beach and the wide vessel rocked beneath the effort. Once out in slightly deeper water, the boatman deftly turned the punt and began guiding it toward the fog bank, using long, easy strokes of his pole to push the vessel along.

David realized that he had sat down facing Charon and would thus not be able to see where they were going on this ride, although he doubted there would be much to see anyway, once they entered the fog bank. Thinking of something else, he patted down his pockets and discovered, not surprisingly, that they were all empty. "You know, Charon," he said, looking up at the tall figure, "it seems that I have nothing with which to offer you in payment for this journey."

"Payment?" the hollow voice replied, as the hooded head leaned a little to one side. "I do not understand."

"You know, 'pennies from a dead man's eyes' to pay the boatman. Isn't that what you get for ferrying the dead across the river?"

"Ah, yes," he said, as mist began to swirl around them and they entered the wall of fog. "That was a nice thought, but I have no need of money and I have never been paid for my services."

"What, never?"

"There is no need. I am the boatman," Charon told him, as if that explained everything.

"Then where did the story about pennies for payment come form?" David asked.

"During the early ages of man," Charon began without hesitation, rhythmically pushing the punt through the dark water, "after burial became a popular form of disposing of the dead, bodies were often left unburied for long periods of time. Especially during the winter months, when the ground was frozen, bodies needed to be stored until the spring thaw, when graves could once again be dug. The story of the pennies came about from the fact that a person's eyes are actually filled with a thick fluid that eventually dries out after death. Without the support of this fluid, the eyeballs tend to shrink and then collapse, leaving sunken sockets in the face which are--and no pun is intended here--somewhat unsightly."