Fearless he’d said. Or at least, we thought, he’d absolute mastery of fear, able to control it with such exactness as to appear fearless. And, faced with a large bear or other wild creature, that was what counted. Exuding a certain confidence, an unequivocal command of the situation, deterring potential aggressors. We believed him.
Jay, together with wife Debbie, ran Midway Service, half way along the Tok Cut-Off. He’d had a life in computers, but was now settled with the small shop and a few cabins. It was tough, but he could at least supplement his income with work for the local electricity company.
He’d little time for bear spray. Preferring a .44 Magnum. Explaining he thought the repellant probably did little more than inspire confidence in the user. But that was fine. Show no fear. I’d nodded, adding I found that the most effective means of dealing with aggressive dogs had been to shout loudly at them, the words not mattering so long as they conveyed real venom, hatred.
Jay had to leave before I’d chance to capture him on camera. Customers to cut off. He grinned and headed out. We joked later he probably used bear spray as aftershave. Without flinching. Wiry but tough. Very. Not that Debbie wasn’t. There’d been one bear in the yard in the last fourteen years. Jay was away so she’d had to deal with it. The pelt hung on the wall behind us.
