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“So, she’s pretty?”
Niko laughs. “That’s what I thought, but the doc said she’s aggressive.” He shrugs. “We’ll see.” Niko and Dad are by far the closest. Not because they get along. Neither of them gets along with anyone, especially each other, but they understand one another in a way the rest of us can’t and they forged some kind of silent bond because of that.A very silent bond.
“How’s that roof coming?” Niko wipes his hands against a dirty rag and tucks it into his overalls. “Don’t tell me you’re running, too. We’re losing men left and right here.”
“Nope,” I laugh. “Zero percent chance. That’s not happening to me. I’m just doing a job.”
“Hud said you’re doing it on the cheap. If you need cash, what’s that about?”
I roll my eyes. “We’d do it for folks at home, so I’m doing it here. That’s all it is. She’s a single mom and money is tight. I only need a little to get by.”
He looks away, then back. “No… we barter at home. So, what’s she giving you in return?”
“There’s no barter. I’m just doing a job.”
“Right,” Niko turns back to the sled, “and I’m going to use my magic wand to get this fucking sled running.” I’m sure he’s implying that sexual favors are part of this barter, but they’re not. Clearly, they’re not. If they were, I’d be far less frustrated every time I see her.
I blow out a sigh and readjust my hat as I walk toward the front door. Niko and I aren’t going to see eye to eye on anything,so it’s best to cut the conversation where we have. Kicking open the door, I toss my coat on the bench but leave my boots on. While I’m appreciative of the warm place to stay, this cabin isn’t in the best shape. Boots are a necessity with these old pine board floors.
Surprisingly, my father is up and leaning over a map in the kitchen. He’s a rough looking guy, even for Alaskan standards. He wears old, beaten thermal tops over some flannel and his beard is long and unkept.
“It looks like we’re fucked.” He coughs. “This fucking bear should be hibernating. He’s not right. I mean, think about it. A grizzly bear that doesn’t want to sleep all winter? Don’t make sense. He’s thinking on a different level than most bears. We need to think like him.”
I nod and grab a beer from the fridge before settling down at the wood-built table in front of the window. “What do you think we do then?”
“Last night, this bear got into the barbershop in town…for a second time.”
“What the hell did he want with the barber shop?”
“They had cake from a birthday party left out on the table, still in the box. He knocked out one of the glass windows to get to it.” Dad clears his throat. “He’s going to go after someone and we’re going to get blamed.”
He’s not wrong. People here are itching to blame us for everything in this town. The bear problem that was here before we arrived will be our fault too, especially since we were brought in to hunt him.
“Anyway,” he coughs, “I want to get this bear when he least expects it. Let’s plan a night hunt. We’ll cut him off on his way back from town and take him out.”
“In town? You want to shoot a bear in town? You don’t think that’s gonna piss people off?”
He grunts under his breath. “We’re already pissing people off. They want us gone. We shoot the bear, we leave, they’re happy.”
“And you being sick… does that come into play at all?” I pull a sip of beer and set the bottle back on the table.
“I’m not sick. I’m up and moving. Look at me.”
“You need a doctor.”
“People get sick and then they get better. That’s life. Doctors are a waste of time and money. Let’s plan this hunt for tomorrow night. I want everyone here.” He rolls up the map and taps it twice on the counter before turning away.
Growing up in the mountains, you see all kinds. Folks who are evading the law, folks who wanna be left alone, folks who have jobs in town and commute from their cabins. Then there are folks like my father. He’s brute, rugged, and he was born and raised in the seclusion of the mountains. He doesn’t trust things like cell phones or the internet. The man barely goes into town, and when he does, people are surely in the way.
My phone buzzes in my back pocket and I pull it out. I’m expecting a call about the plywood and mold remover. It’s not uncommon that a small town like this would ship products in as needed from the closest city. It’s just going to take a few hours for them to get here is all.
“Hey, what’s up?”
“Oh.” A man on the other line clears his throat. “This is Declan down at The Barnyard. Is Peyton there?”
I pause for a second, trying to figure why some asshole would be calling my line to get ahold of Peyton, then remember she used my phone to call out before I left her house.
“Nah, man. Sorry. Her phone isn’t working, so she borrowed mine. There a message I can get to her?”
