I smiled just watching her stance. That girl handled a weapon cleaner than half the cops I knew. Pride swelled in my chest; the kind a coach feels watching his star player sink the winning shot.
Then there was Adrian, standing behind her, shaking, his soul clearly seeking a refund for the entire trip.
These niggas swear they be real men until it’s time to take the trash out at night, fix a leaking faucet, kill a roach, catch a rat, pay a bill, the check engine light comes on, or a bear breathes on the porch like it smelled neck bones and cornbread in the air. Nigga probably scared of ladybugs, too. He looked like the type to duck when a fly buzzes too close and yell, “That was a bee!”like that’s gon’ make it less embarrassing.
Isis took one look at the bear and let out a scream that could’ve cracked open the gates of Heaven.
“Bryce, it’s a BEEEAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!”
The scream she let out carried notes, trembles, and a full church choir range. It started in soprano, dipped into alto, and came back up with a squall that rattled the windows. I halfway expected an organ to start playing and ushers to fan her ass down. Seriously, the way Isis carried on, somebody would’ve thought a tarantula was rolling around in her lace La Perla thong, that had no business being worn in a cabin with wildlife.
Right on cue, the bear let out a deep, pissed-off roar—probably mad that Isis had just interrupted him while he was digging for his late-night snack.
“SweetJesuson a jet ski!” Isis mumbled, clutching her robe, suddenly very invested in self-preservation..
I glared at her so hard my eyelid twitched. “What thehelldid Ijusttell you?”I snarled.
“You saiddon’tscream, but it’s a Bear, Bryce… a real one… with fur,claws,andmurder energy! And Iwhispered-screamed… or so I thought! Still, it’s a thing!” she babbled, voice cracking. “Oh my God, I knew I shouldn’t have come!”
Chesteria cut her a dry look over her shoulder. “Then whydidyou come? To die fashionably in a robe?”
Adrian’s scared ass chimed in, “How are y’all so calm right now?!”
I stared at him, nostrils flared, like he offended my bloodline. “Nigga, why are you soscared?”
He opened his mouth to answer, but I held up my hand.
“Don’t even say it. You look like the type to faint if you stub yo’ toe.”
“It’s a bear, bro!”
“And yet you brought yo’ timid ass to the woods with no backup plan, no instincts, and no spine.” I stepped around the couch, sizing him up. “Tell me something… how would you have been able to protect her if shit went left?”
“Chesteria canobviouslyprotect herself. But I got a… pocketknife.”
I scoffed. “A pocketknife? Nigga, you can’t bring a knife to a bear fight.That’s not survival gear; that’s a ‘sorry for your loss’ starter kit.” I glanced at Chesteria. “Who handed you thisliability?”
Chesteria stepped in, palms up like a mediator at a kindergarten fight. “Bryce, you’re right, but right now we have a much bigger situation to deal with than your masculinity Olympics. Let’s handle this,and y’all can get back to your measuring contest later.”
“Handle it?!” Isis shrieked. “You’re gonna fight the bear? Like… physically? Do y’all have pepper spray? Bear spray? Mace? Something?!”
Chesteria tilted her head, sarcastically. “Nah… we’re gonna challenge it to a rap battle, and if it starts beatboxing, we all just gon’ run in harmony. Can you hush, please?”
Isis rolled her eyes, fully committed to her victim narrative.
I nodded once. “Look, Chesteria is right. Everybody be quiet. I got this.”
I didn’t charge the bear like an untrained idiot. Instead, I moved with presence, dominance, and like I was the apex predator.
Chesteria tapped her foot twice, signaling that the bear was alert and surveying its surroundings.
I returned her signal with a slight nod.
Then calmly—like I’d done that before—I grabbed a metal pan from the fireplace tool set and smacked it against the grate.
CLANG-CLANG!
The bear jerked back, startled by the sudden noise, as if it wasn’t expecting company.
