A full pot of rice, a large pot of potatoes stewed with Thunderbird.
Feng Shan only ate a single plate; the two gluttons polished off the rest. Tom even scraped the crispy rice from the bottom of the pot, soaked it in broth, and slurped it all down.
Mmm!
The plates and the pot didn't need washing—they were cleaner than their faces.
As the sky darkened and the temperature outside plummeted, the group shifted base. They returned to the bus and crowded around the stove in the small living room to chat.
Coca-Cola and the puppy sidled up to Feng Shan, their eyes wide and innocent.
"Alright, fine. Come on up." Feng Shan couldn't resist their pitiful gazes. He grabbed them by the scruffs of their necks and placed them on the deerskin blanket in his lap.
Feng Shan's lap was usually Coca-Cola's private domain. But now that he had a little brother, he graciously surrendered half the space, letting the puppy experience his big-brotherly generosity.
The puppy let out a comfortable little whine.
Frank chuckled. "Feng, that puppy is a Husky. They're built for the cold, perfect companions out on the tundra. They're good at watching the house and finding prey in the snow. You'd better take good care of him."
"Pfft!" Tom couldn't hold back his laughter and nodded quickly. "That's right, very good at hunting."
'Good at it?'
'He doesn't look too bright!'
Feng Shan looked down at the puppy in his lap. It was on its back with all four paws in the air, tongue lolling out as it played with Coca-Cola. He spoke nonchalantly.
"Ah, what the hell. I'll keep him. From now on, your name is Prince."
There was a story behind the name Prince. Back when he ran a restaurant, a stray dog often dug through their trash cans. Ms. Hong started feeding it, and eventually, it grew tame. She was the one who named it Prince.
Tom, wrapped in a deerskin blanket, let his gaze fall on the radio on the table, his eyes lighting up. "Feng, can I borrow your radio?"
"Be my guest!" Feng Shan nodded.
Tom eagerly walked over to the table, flipped on the radio, expertly tuned the channel, and grabbed the handset. "What's up, bitches? Your granddaddy Tom has arrived in his fighter jet!"
Hmm.
'That opening line is just asking for a punch.'
Feng Shan asked in a low voice, "Won't he get beaten up for talking like that?"
"Usually not. He'll just hide in his cockpit. If he could, he'd stay in the sky forever," Frank explained quietly.
After a moment, a torrent of curses erupted from the radio, including some incomprehensible native slang.
"Shithead Tom, if you dare come to Barrow Town, I swear I'll shoot you down with an anti-aircraft gun."
"Tom, you're still alive? Did God turn a blind eye today?"
"I don't care where you are, Noatak Town is a no-fly zone for you."
"Tom, the price of fuel at Kevik just went up by 5 US Dollars a gallon, just for you."
...
After drawing a barrage of curses, Tom looked as satisfied as if he'd just smoked a joint.
"Bitches, guess where I am? Guess right for 2 US Dollars."
"Crown Territory, 2 US Dollars."
"At Feng's place. You owe me 2 US Dollars."
"Idiot, I saw your crappy second-hand plane flying towards the Far North Tundra. Give me 2 US Dollars."
"Kevik Camp already reported your flight path. 2 US Dollars, thanks, boss."
"Fuck! You're all a bunch of vicious, cheating vampires!" Having failed to make any money, Tom flew into a rage and cursed into the handset.
A wave of cheerful laughter came over the radio.
Immediately after, Tom started showing off smugly again.
"But you guys have no idea! Feng's cooking is incredible. I just had the most authentic Chinese food on the planet, you morons who only know how to eat garbage bread!"
"I don't believe you, unless you send some over."
"Stop bullshitting and go back to drinking your cheap booze!"
"Feng, watch out for Tom tonight when you're sleeping. He's gay. The safest thing to do is blast him with a shotgun."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, use the big buckshot."
"Piss off, you bunch of trash!"
After finishing the shouting match, a satisfied Tom switched off the radio. Seeing Feng Shan's odd look, he yelped, "Damn it, buddy, you don't actually believe what they said, do you? I'm straight! If you don't believe me, I'll prove it to you next time you're in Fairbanks."
"I believe you, but can you sleep outside tonight?" Feng Shan asked sincerely.
Haha!
Frank doubled over with laughter.
Outside was a world of ice and snow. Anyone who slept out there for a night would definitely be an ice sculpture by morning.
Since Crown Territory had no electricity and no signal, the only evening activities were reading or staring into space.
The upside, however, was that it was exceptionally quiet for sleeping. The sound of the wind and snow outside the bus was the best natural lullaby.
The conversation ended, and it was time to rest.
Frank and Tom had brought sleeping bags. They spread a deerskin blanket on the floor and lay down by the stove to sleep.
"Good night, everyone."
"Good night, buddy. Sweet dreams."
"Good night!"
After saying their good nights, Feng Shan carried the kerosene lamp back to his bedroom, holding Coca-Cola and Prince. Listening to Tom's snores coming from the living room, he lay on the bed, his thoughts gradually drifting away.
...
WOOF WOOF WOOF!!
MEOW MEOW!!
Deep in sleep, Feng Shan was woken by Coca-Cola and Prince's racket. He thought it was dawn and the little guys needed the toilet, but when he opened his eyes, he saw only a gray gloom outside the curtains.
"It's the middle of the night, why are you two making such a ruckus?" Annoyed, Feng Shan turned up the kerosene lamp and saw the two little ones by the window, barking and meowing at it nonstop.
'Is there something outside?'
Feng Shan was instantly alert. He quietly got out of bed and carried the kerosene lamp to the window. In its dim yellow light, he could only see falling snow. Nothing else.
"Buddy, is there something outside?" Frank's voice suddenly sounded beside him, scaring Feng Shan so badly he almost threw the kerosene lamp.
"Do you ever make a sound when you walk?"
"I called your name a few times. Guess you didn't hear me." Frank shrugged and pointed at the window. "The smell of fish must have attracted an animal. This is the time of year they're active, storing food for winter."
Feng Shan narrowed his eyes. "What kind of animal? A wolf or a bear?"
"Could be a brown bear, a gray wolf, a fox, a wolverine, maybe a bobcat. This is the desolate Far North Tundra, after all," Frank said, looking completely unfazed.
Even a city like Fairbanks saw its share of bears and wolves.
"Should I go out and scare it off?" Feng Shan's gaze shifted to the rifle by his bed.
"I wouldn't do that. You don't know what it is, visibility is poor, and it could be dangerous. In Alaska, the day belongs to humans, but the night belongs to them." Frank immediately put a stop to Feng Shan's rash impulse.
"Then what about my fish?" Feng Shan's heart ached at the thought of the air-dried and smoked fish on the drying rack. If an animal ruined them, all that food he'd worked so hard to store would be gone just like that.
"All we can do is pray to God that it leaves you some scraps!" Frank made the sign of the cross, but a gloating smile was plastered on his face.
'Rely on God?'
'I'd rather rely on myself.'
Feng Shan worked the rifle's bolt. With a sharp CLICK, a round entered the chamber.
"A Kar98k. That's a fine rifle. A bit of a waste to use for hunting. Say, how about a trade? I've got an '11 Remington M700 that's much better for hunting than that 98k."
"No trade. In your dreams!" Feng Shan saw right through Frank's little scheme. 'He wants to trade his piece of junk for my antique rifle.'
'He must be dreaming!'
After refusing Frank's offer, Feng Shan grabbed his gun and pulled open the bus door.
A bone-chilling cold instantly hit his face, stinging like needles. The air he exhaled condensed into frost the moment it left his mouth, falling like tiny snowflakes.
"Don't you two come out, the temperature's dropped!" Feng Shan shut the door behind him. Coca-Cola had somehow snuck out after him. Its short fur couldn't handle the extreme cold, and it was shivering uncontrollably. It took just a few steps before diving into his leather coat for warmth.
"Cold, huh? Told you not to come out," Feng Shan muttered, but his hand reached into his coat and moved Coca-Cola to the warmest spot.
...