When Eddie heard there was a bear, he felt both excited and alarmed.
He had never seen a bear before, and now he finally had the chance to witness this legendary apex predator of the mammalian food chain—how could he not be thrilled?
But more than that, he was shocked. Damn, they were deep in the wild woods now. Running into a grizzly here wasn't good news.
Eddie reacted quickly. He knew that when facing a North American brown bear—those monstrous beasts—if you didn't have a Remington M870 shotgun in your hands, you were basically screwed. To survive, the only real option was to avoid it altogether.
So, he grabbed Creeper's arm and whispered urgently, "Climb a tree! Let's get up a tree!"
Creeper cautiously stepped back and said, "No way. Brown bears can climb trees too. And if it's a fully grown male, it might just knock the whole thing down!"
Springtime bears were the worst. Having just woken up from hibernation, their temper was at its worst. Add to that the hunger from months without food, and the fact that food was still scarce in early spring—they wouldn't mind having a human or two as a snack.
As the two stood there, tense and uneasy, a furry black-brown head suddenly appeared at the top of the small waterfall.
The head was roughly the size of a football, with shiny black eyes. Its fur was wet and matted, and it peeked over the rock to glance down at Eddie and Creeper. The moment it spotted them, it quickly ducked back out of sight.
Creeper chuckled. "Turns out it's just a cub."
"A cub with a voice that loud?" Eddie asked.
"Guess this one was born with a strong set of lungs," Creeper explained. "Besides, it probably screamed as loud as it could out of panic just now."
Since it wasn't an adult bear, Creeper wasn't too worried anymore. Still, he hurried Eddie to move on—because where there's a cub, there's usually a very protective mother bear nearby.
Eddie wanted to get a closer look at the bear cub, but judging by Creeper's expression, that clearly wasn't going to happen.
Sighing in disappointment, Eddie kept looking back as they walked. A few glances later, he saw the bear cub's little head pop up again from above the waterfall. It blinked its shiny black eyes and stared at him and Creeper.
The little guy seemed to realize the two of them had backed off because of it. So after they had walked a bit farther, it propped itself up on its front paws, stood on the ledge above the waterfall, and started screeching at them: "Awooo! Owoo!! Awooo! Owoo!!"
The bear cub couldn't have been that old—it was chubby, with a head and body that looked like a round ball stacked on top of a bigger ball.
Eddie found the little guy adorable and couldn't resist heading back to get a closer look.
But as soon as the cub saw Eddie coming back, it clammed up, blinked its eyes in a daze, turned tail, and disappeared behind the waterfall, letting out pitiful yelps as it ran. Eddie had actually scared it off…
He couldn't help but laugh, and Creeper shook his head with a smile. "First time I've seen such a timid bear."
The rest of the day passed quickly. Thanks to everyone's hard work, the fishery was finally cleaned up, just in time for the celebratory feast.
In front of the villa, between two maple trees, Eddie had prepared plenty of food and drinks to reward his friends.
Old man Hickson had been invited to cook, and Shaq had someone carry in a giant grill. With pride, he told Eddie, "Boss, tonight I'll let you try the signature barbecue of the Saxon family!"
Eddie loved barbecue, so he was quite looking forward to it. But when he saw the grill, he gasped in shock.
The grill wasn't your typical backyard BBQ—it was huge. Just the main skewer for the meat was over a meter long!
Shaq wasn't using a traditional grill. Instead, it was a massive rotisserie-style spit raised a meter and a half off the ground, looking like something between a machine gun mount and an industrial tool. Charcoal and firewood were heaped underneath, and a blower fan was brought over. Once powered on, flames roared to life.
Then, half a side of pork—prepared earlier—was brought over. With a grunt, Shaq stabbed it through with a giant iron skewer like he was wielding a short spear, then hoisted it onto the roasting rig.
Eddie scratched his head. That was pure macho bravado. Even barbecue had to be this hardcore? But he couldn't help wondering—how long would it take to cook such a thick chunk of meat? By the time the inside was done, wouldn't the outside be charred to a crisp?
But Shaq didn't roast both sides. Instead, he roasted the fatty back side, letting the heat melt the fat, which soon released a mouthwatering aroma.
He gently rocked the pork back and forth like he was cradling a baby, trying to ensure it cooked evenly. Then he had someone take over the turning so he could start slicing off cooked meat.
But the pork was massive, and no one could hold it steady for long. Even a strong young man with muscles rivaling Shaq's could only manage for a short time before his arms gave out and started trembling.
Eddie clenched his fists. "I'll do it."
Everyone looked at him with skeptical eyes, but Eddie was confident. The Heart of the Ocean had drastically enhanced his physique, especially his strength. Though he still looked similar to before, his endurance and power were now on a whole different level.
Without a word, he stepped forward, grabbed the iron skewers, and, to everyone's amazement, held the pork steady above the flames without breaking a sweat.
Cheers erupted, loud enough to make the flames flicker and sway.
With Eddie holding the meat, Shaq began brushing it with sauces and seasoning. As the olive oil and spices soaked into the pork, the aroma intensified. Once the outer layer turned golden brown, Shaq sliced off pieces with a sharp knife made from ox horn. Plate after plate of roasted meat was served.
Eventually, someone took over for Eddie. He raised his glass and declared, "Thanks, everyone, for helping me clean up the fishery today. Let's raise our glasses and toast to the arrival of spring at BE Fishery!"
Everyone lifted their glasses. But then Shaq shouted, "No, Eddie, that's not how we do it here! You can't just drink like that. You have to scream! Scream! Scream!!"
Egged on by him, a group of young men began chanting, "Scream! Scream!"
Newfoundland was different from other Canadian provinces. Though English was the official language, the grammar and intonation had a local twist, with influences from French. So despite Eddie's strong English skills back in college, here he could only manage basic conversation.
Shaq's words left Eddie a bit confused. He stared blankly as someone brought over a freshly caught codfish, probably snagged just that day.
They laid it in front of him. Shaq poured a pale golden liquor and said, "You've got to kiss the fish on the lips for five seconds, then down this shot in one go, Boss. Then the party can really begin."
Eddie loved cod, and his fishery would mainly deal in it going forward—but that didn't mean he wanted to kiss one, especially its weird, pointy mouth.
Trying to laugh it off, he changed the subject. "What kind of liquor is this? You know I only drink ice wine."
Shaq grinned. "This is the other pride of Farewell Town—rum! The 'Screamer!'"
Eddie didn't want to give up his first kiss to a dead fish, let alone follow it with a shot of strong liquor. He tried to bolt, but they surrounded him. Even Creeper joined in: "Eddie, it's the Farewell Town tradition. Come on!"
What else could Eddie do?
Smiling bitterly, he squatted down, locked eyes with the cod, and puckered up. Their lips met.
Everyone started counting: "5… 4… 3… 5… 4…"
"Oh, come on!" Eddie realized they were messing with him and quickly pulled away after five seconds.
Then Shaq handed him the shot of rum. Eddie raised the glass to the crowd, and with one tilt, downed it!
"Wooooh!!" The rum hit him hard, and Eddie couldn't help but scream. Now he understood why it was called "Screamer"—because after drinking it, screaming was inevitable.
The fishy taste still lingered on his lips, already intense. But once the rum hit his mouth, it felt like his tongue burst into flames, and the fire burned all the way down his throat into his stomach. He couldn't even tell if it was the fish or the rum that made his mouth feel so wild.
"Welcome to the edge of the Western world!" someone shouted.
And just like that, the feast truly began.