Well, he's dead. I decided he wasn't Christ, but I also figured that it wasn't healthy for me to keep him around. He drank the rest of my Southern Comfort in one sitting, and that amounted to about eight bottles of the stuff. So, he died a lovable drunk. I'll have to wait another week for more Southern Comfort to come in on the supply ship...

Anyway, Charley and I had a simple burial ceremony a couple of miles north of the cabin. I didn't want Jay's grave marker to be where I would see it very often... it might have tempted me to play God and resurrect the guy. I told Annie that she could come by from time to time now that Jay is gone, but she declined the offer, instead deciding she would move to the deserted whaling station at Port Jeanne d'Arc. She was never that interested in me anyway, and I never found her to be all that attractive.

This means it's just me and Charley now.