Fort McMurray was a sh*thole town in northern Alberta, where ox-dumb byes, former high school footballers and Newfie fishermans' sons, sweated and strained on the oil sands, and slept in too-tight quarters. Where on the weekends, there was nothing to do but drink, gamble, and go down on guys.
Jay loved it.
It was just temporary, of course. Sometimes after staying up all night at the Rivers Casino, Jay passed All Saints Anglican Church, with husbands and wives and kids filing inside, the men in their Sunday suits, the women in sun dresses, and he thought, "That's me in a few years. That's my destiny." S*x with girls was ok, nothing spectacular -- he could take it or leave it. The sudden rush of "Whoa, that's hot!" came only from men. But he was nearly 30, and finding a girl, getting married, and having a family was the only pathway to maturity. To adulthood. To living a normal life.
But finding a girl could wait. There were too many Jesus hot byes in Fort Mac.
Then he lost $40,000 in a single night of drinking too much and not gambling enough. Now it was $80,000, payment or broken legs, due immediately. He ran away to Calgary, and then home to Snook's Arms, a tourist village on the Newfoundland coast. He never talked about home with any of the Fort Mac byes, so no one would know where he was. Hopefully.
Monday:
Snook's Arms wasn't as idyllic as Jay remembered. Dad, an iceberg wrangler, had accidentally uncovered a frozen block of sea monster mucus crawling with ancient microbes, his brother Wade was having hallucinations, and his sister was upset over the theft of her engagement ring. And Jay got a text: "You're a dead man!"
Tuesday:
Half the town was getting sick from the ancient microbes, and the owner of the mucus block, an ancient sea monster, had re-appeared to chomp fishermen in half. And Jay got another text: "We know where you are, f*cko!"
Wednesday:
In spite of all the paranormal threats, it was still Coming Home Year, so Snook's Arms had a week of festivities planned. A girl Jay knew back in high school invited him to the Garden Party. Maybe this was his chance at marriage and family, a normal life?
No such luck. Before he could meet the girl, he was approached by two toughs. He recognized Connor from Fort Mac: he had gone down a few times. A fellow Newfie, muscular, with red hair and a long red beard, but right mad. The other guy was black, slim, Jesus handsome, with a short beard and piercing brown eyes.
"Um...whaddaya at, byes?", he began. "Welcome to..."
Connor punched him in the stomach. The wind knocked out of him, he fell to his knees. "What..."
"Me and me bye Mo had to take two flights, a three hour drive, and a ferry ride just to see ye, ye handsome devil. The boss wants his money."
Connor punched him again, and the black guy -- Mo, maybe short for Mohammed? -- kicked him.
"I been done, boyo -- I gots the money," he said, right skeezed. "Almost. I just need a day or two to gather it up. Look -- I'll go down. Both of ye."
Connor grinned. "I admit, you're a right mad c*cksman, me love, but not $60,000 worth."
"Just in a sign of good faith."
"Eh...do us both, and you get two days." He led Jay off into the woods.
When the skeets approached again, Jay showed them proof of city residency. "The province is paying us to relocate. I'll have $60,000 in just a few weeks."
"We need the money now, me bye!" Connor yelled, right rotted. He punched Jay again.
"Just a few weeks -- I promise. Just think of this as a vacation. We can have a time -- there's a casino down in Grants. I can get you some girls..."
"We're not here for girls!" Mo exclaimed, staring at Jay. Was he threatening or turned on?
"Byes, then. Whatever you're into."
This made Mo smile. Still staring at Jay, he said "I've never been out east before, Connor. I wouldn't say no to some sightseeing."
Connor laughed. "And byes. That's all you ever think about, innit?" Wait -- was he into guys or not?
"Ok, Jay boy, we'll give you two more days. But it will cost you another bj."
Friday:
The town was under a stay-in-place order due to the disease that had everyone thirsty for no reason, a cult of monster-worshippers that had his brother Wade running around bare-arsed, and the sea monster, who for some reason targeted only the family's enemies. Just a normal week in Newfoundland.
They scoffed at the Chicken Bar -- talking, smiling. Was Jay beginning to think of them as friends, just a few days after they were punching and kicking him?
On the way home, Jay suggested some other fun things to do during their stay. "We could go whale watching, or fishing."
"Fishing sounds good," Mo said, smiling. "I haven't gone fishing since I was little, back in Mogadishu."
"Where's that?"
"Somalia." Jay didn't know much about Somalia, just that there were a lot of Somali refugees in Canada, some in the oil fields in Fort Mac. And he read an article once about the biggest d*cks in the world. Somalis were in the top ten.
Imagining Mo's d*ck, he started to blush. "What kind of fish?"
Connor ordered them to shut up. Hey, they weren't turning onto the road that led back to the B&B!
Suddenly Mo pulled a gun. Oh, shite! His hands were trembling -- he was right shitebaked, terrified! Jay could use his hesitation -- he jerked at the gun. Mo shot indiscriminately, Connor screamed -- and they flew off the road into the bay.
Jay managed to kick open the car door and swim out just as the sea monster attacked, its huge mouth chomping down on the car...chewing it? "Jay, help!" Mo yelled.
Jesus shite! He dove back into the bay and pulled Mo to safety, but he didn't reach Connor in time. The sea monster finished chomping on the car and disappeared.
More after the break
