CHAPTER 1 - An Unbirthday Celebration

“Everyone has the right to life, liberty and security of the person and the right not to be deprived thereof except in accordance with the principles of fundamental justice.”

— Section 7, Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms

Victoria BC, Canada, 2005.

Chapter One

An Unbirthday Celebration

The sky was dimming. Robert Hidalgo leaned forward against the balcony railing, watching a station wagon rolling into the parking lot below. It pulled up between two cars. An adult kangaroo stepped out, looked up and waved. Robert smiled and waved back. It was Gregory Duncan or Tito Greg as he would call him. Greg proceeded to lock the car, he went over the trunk and hauled his backpack. He disappeared under the balcony into the apartment complex. 

Tomorrow would be Greg’s thirty-sixth birthday. Robert didn’t have any plans to give him a gift this time. In a herbivore’s last year of their life, nobody gave gifts to those who were about to become bestowers. That wouldn’t be appropriate. They wouldn’t need those gifts when they had to undergo the bestowal process, much less after that. A simple greeting and feast would be enough, and that was what Robert and his mom, Natalie Hidalgo, planned for the evening. They were supposed to do it the next day, but Natalie had work. So it would be an advanced birthday celebration or “unbirthday celebration” as Natalie would like to call it. 

Robert found it funny how a forest dog, like him, called his kangaroo neighbor his uncle, considering they were both very different species. It would make sense if he was a wallaby or wallaroo, since they both are close relatives of the kangaroo, but a dog? People would find that a little strange. But because Greg had been constant in both of Robert and Natalie’s lives, their differences didn’t matter. 

“Robert, tara na,” his mother told him. She clamped her metal collar around her neck. 

“Okay po, Ma,” Robert responded. He went inside the apartment towards the desk beside the door. On it was his collar. He unplugged it from charging and clamped it around his neck. The LED light turned on, radiating a jarring red color.

“I wish we didn’t have to wear these,” Robert said, itching the part of his neck under the collar.

“Eh, we have to,” his mother said, “it’s what keeps us from going feral.”

“Back in the Philippines we didn’t have to. All we had were muzzles.”

“And look at the high predation rates in the country,” she said, giving him a grimace.

“Fair enough.” 

They faced their collars on the scanner beside the door. The scanner beeped and the little LED light blinked from red to orange and then red again. The door loosened. They went out and Natalie closed the door. She scanned her collar again and there was a clack which indicated that the door had been locked.

They went down the stairs and then through the hallway of the ground floor. Once they opened the main entrance, they were embraced by the cold air round them. Robert took a whiff of wet soil and grass that had been scorched under the summer sun all day long. Even though it was early June, Victoria was known for its constant rainfall all year round.

Puddles of water splashed beneath them as they walked through the dimly lit neighborhood of Burnside District. After about five or six minutes, they reached the slippery and glinting pavement of Burnside Road E. Across the road was Douglas Center, a small roadside shopping mall. The two dogs looked both ways, no cars, and then they crossed. 

Douglas Center was a very convenient place to get their groceries. It saved them money from having to ride buses to get to bigger stores downtown. However, sometimes either Robert or Natalie went to the groceries downtown when commuting back from school or work. Robert missed his time back in the Philippines, where you could buy certain items just across the street. Some people over there set up makeshift mini-stores called “sari-sari” stores. 

Entering the DUAA supermarket, Robert’s fur bristled as the chill of the store enveloped him. The metallic smell of meat from the coolers watered his mouth. His stomach grumbled. It has been years since he had tasted meat. But he had to control himself. Urges shouldn’t turn into sin. 

“So, Roberto, what will your Uncle Greg like for dinner?”

Robert hummed as he searched for an answer. What does he want? Robert thought. “Remember when you made Lumpiang Togue for Christmas? He really loved that.”

“We don’t have lumpia wrappers and they don’t have it here,” Natalie said. “We have to go downtown for those. Maybe something else?” 

Greg had always loved Spagbol, the one with texturized vegetable protein in it instead of meat. They had TVP back at the apartment. They use it as an alternative for meat, mammal meat that is. Robert and Natalie still consume fish meat. Their religion wasn’t that strict. 

“We can do Spagbol,” said Robert, wagging his tail. “We need to buy more of those TVP though, plus the pasta.”

“Ayun! Pwede.” Natalie said, nodding in approval. 

Robert pulled up a shopping basket as they went through the aisles until they reached the “pasta” section. They took a pack of noodles, some tomato sauce and went over to the baking aisle for the TVP. 

After that was done, they went to buy the essentials and then pay. Before they knew it, they were walking back into the dimly lit neighborhood and back into the tiny apartment. 

Natalie started chopping the mushrooms and heating the sauce in a pan, while Robert filled water in a pot to boil the noodles. It reminded him of the first time he made Spagbol. It was a cold August day after Robert had gone back from school. He was in Primary school at that time and Natalie wouldn’t be home until late in the evening, so he was in Greg’s apartment that time. 

Young Robert, who was lying down, upside down, on Greg’s dusty couch, asked him what he was about to cook and Greg smiled and said, “Spagbol.”

“Ang weird naman yung name ng dish. Spagbol?”

“Heh, you think it’s a weird name?”  Greg laughed, as he poured a pot with water. Although Greg wasn’t a Filipino, obviously, he could understand bits here and there. “I guess from a Pinoy’s perspective it does sound kinda strange, doesn’t it, eh?”

Robert nodded. He slid his body down to the dusty carpet and stood up. He brushed himself with his paws and tip-toed over boxes, dirty laundry, and other paraphernalia scattered on the floor towards the little kitchen area. 

 “Wanna learn how to make it?”

“Yes, yes, I can uh — ” Robert lifted his arm and did a sauteeing motion. 

“The word for that is ‘cook’”

“Cook.” Robert laughed nervously. “Sorry I keep forget. My English is bad.” 

“Nah, you just needed practice and more exposure.” 

“Exposure?” Robert tilted his head and he looked down, watching Greg turn on the stove and put the pot of water on it. “My classmates, they make fun of my speaking. I miss my old classmates in Pinas. They don’t do that.” 

“Eh, don’t mind those blokes, I bet if they speak Tagalog they’d be terrible at it.” 

Robert laughed. “I get nosebleed if I think too hard, so I just go quiet. But if I’m too quiet, it’s hard to be friends with people.”

Greg stopped what he was doing and gave Robert a look of concern. “You had a nosebleed? When?” he said worriedly. “You got to have you checked up!”

“No, no, no. Not real nosebleed. It’s an, uh, what do you call it? In Tagalog it’s i-slang.”

The kangaroo's face lit up with clarity, his ears twitched. “Ohh, you mean ‘slang’.”

“Slang,” repeated Robert, taking a mental note to remember it. “Yeah, slang.”

Greg laughed nervously. “You made me nervous there, kid.” 

Robert laughed. 

Afterwards, Greg then taught him the recipe. Robert smiled at that memory. In some ways, Greg had been like a dad to him, even more so than his actual dad. He and Natalie owed Greg a lot during their first year in Canada. Not only was it hard for Natalie to find work as a caregiver, but Robert’s father, Jan Hidalgo, left them in favor of someone back in the Philippines. Robert’s mother was on the verge of deciding to go back to the country when Greg, and along with a few relatives in Canada helped support the two for a year until they were able to be self-sufficient. It was because of them that the dogs were able to make Canada work. If they both went back to the country like Natalie had considered, she might not be able to sustain the both of them. The pay there as a caregiver wouldn’t have been enough. Occupations such as nursing, teaching and social work weren’t well paid jobs in the country, unlike in Canada. 

“Roberto, can you call Greg in for dinner?”

Robert by then had finished boiling the noodles. “Sure.” 

The apartment complex wasn’t that big, so it wasn’t hard to navigate around it. Greg lived downstairs, alone. He used to live with his mom and dad back in their house near the sea, however they became bestowers when he turned eighteen. Having children postpones your bestowal for about twenty years. His father was the first to be bestowed, while his mother came in second. That left him and his two older siblings. His eldest sibling, his brother Duncan, sailed off to Vancouver to have a family of his own. His second eldest sibling, his sister Sheila, was bestowed. 

Greg still had contact with his eldest sibling, but over the years, they had grown out of touch. Now, he lived alone. However, like Greg would always say, he had gotten used to it. 

Robert knocked on his door. “Tito Greg?” 

The door opened. The kangaroo’s head poked out of the door. His glasses reflected the lights on the hallway ceiling. 

“Robert! It’s you. Is the sink leaking again?”

“Not yet. Anyways, that’s not what I’m here for. We cooked dinner for you upstairs.”

“Oh, you guys had?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh damn, that’s really sweet of you guys. Thank you so much. Hold on a sec. I’ll just put on some pants and then I’ll be right there.”

“Okay.”

“Sure,” Greg closed the door until Robert could only see his eye. “I’ll be right there.” Then he shut the door. 

* * *

Robert and Natalie prepared the small dining area. They put out their best plates, the large bottle of Coke they saved from yesterday, and the whole pot of Spagbol in the midst.

There was knocking at the door. 

“Robert, can you get the door?”

Robert got up from the couch and headed toward the door. He scanned his collar and the door loosened. 

Greg pushed the door inward.

“Happy Unbirthday!” Robert and Natalie both greeted. 

The kangaroo’s face lit up at what was set on the dining table as he closed the door. “Wow! Thank you guys so much.” He laughed. He sniffed. “Is that… Spagbol?” 

“Yep!” said Robert.

Greg headed towards the chair and sat. 

“We even got you carrot cake.” Natalie said. “For five years we thank you for the help you’ve given to both of us.”

Greg chuckled. “This is insane! You guys didn’t have to go this far. I'm just your typical downstairs neighbor.”

“Eesh, don’t say that,” said Natalie, waving her paw. “You’re part of the family!”

Or at least until he starts his duty as a bestower in a month, Robert thought.  It’s a shame he would only have a year and a half to live. However, he wasn’t even guaranteed that he would survive the second, third, or even first stage of bestowal. Robert wished Greg would have more time. Once Greg applied for bestowal the next day, he’d go through the legal process of who’d handle his stuff once he’s gone. Pay his debts or whatever. There would also be his job resignation as a repairman. Then there would be visiting relatives too. When he does become a bestower, he’d be busy doing tests for each bestowal stage. Blood tests, urine tests, X-ray, etc. Then there are the recovery periods. He could probably visit Greg during those times, but Robert would be busy with college by then. Greg’s first recovery period would likely cover the months July up until October. 

“Robert prepared a musical performance too,” Natalia said with a smile. 

Robert frowned. “Ma!” 

“It’s really good! I heard him practicing just last week.”

“Oh, that’s cool,” said Greg. “What are you going to play? Happy birthday?”

They all chuckled. 

Robert shook his head. “Your favorite song.”

Greg raised his brow. “Through the Years?”

Robert nodded. “Yep. Hold on.” He rushed into his room and fetched the guitar that lay on his bed. He sat on the couch, resting the guitar with one knee. He set his paws on the strings. His left paw one the first chord of the song, his right paw fingers ready for plucking. He looked up to the two in front of them, who were both smiling at him. Natalie clasped her paws on her chest. Greg was grinning widely, his ears leaning forward to his direction. 

Robert’s heart thumped inside his head. Although he had this musical talent of playing the guitar and had experience playing in front of an audience in school, he was still nervous. 

He took a deep breath and plucked the intro. He hummed, his voice going up and down. Then he sang the first lines. 

He saw Greg grinning wider, which made Robert grin, causing his voice to change into a lighthearted tone instead of a tired one. 

Then he began to strum. He feels the music vibrating within him, making him roll out the words naturally. Adding emotion and stress to each word as needed. From time to time his voice cracked a bit and there would be times that he strung the wrong chord. His face got warmer and warmer until he strung the last chord. When Robert raised his head, Natalie was clapping and Greg was wiping his eyes, brushing away tears.

“Sorry, I got a bit emotional there,” said Greg. “It’s really good. Really good. Bravo!” He clapped. 

“Thanks,” Robert said sheepishly. “Glad you liked it.” Robert hadn’t seen Greg emotional all that much in their years together. He had always been reserved. It’ll likely be his last time hearing this song. 

Natalie got up to get the cake while Robert placed the guitar on the couch and went over to the dining table to sit. Natalie took a candle from a drawer and lit it up with a lighter. “Alright, make a wish Greg.”

Greg closed his eyes and mumbled and then blew the candle. 

“Let’s eat!” Natalie said as she placed the 

Greg pulled his chair further into the table. “Thanks guys.” He raised from his seat and picked up the ladle in the pot of Spagbol. He asked for Natalie and Robert’s plate and served them before serving himself. Robert twisted the cap of the large bottle of coke and served their cups. Afterwards they dig in.

“I’ve been thinking,” Greg said. “I was wondering if I can take both of you guys in for a road trip across Vancouver Island. It’ll be a six-day trip with stops for site-seeing.”

Robert’s ears erected. 

“That sounds wonderful, Greg.” said Natalie. “But I won’t be able to come. I have caregiving duty  and one of my patients had just undergone their third stage of bestowal. But I’m sure Robert can come.” 

“I guess it’s going to be you and me, kiddo,” said Greg. “What’cha think?” 

“I think it’s fine, I guess,” Robert said, struggling not to wag his tail too hard. 

“‘Fine’? You sure? Your tail says it’s more than fine.”

“Alright, I think it’s awesome. I’ve never been on a road trip before.”

“When is this road trip?” His mother said.

“The day after tomorrow. Tomorrow I have to go to BC Bestowal for my bestower application and then resign from my office. I also have to buy stuff for the trip.”

“Oh!” said Natalie. “Don’t forget the pictures. I got a camera right here somewhere. I’ll make a whole album of it.”

After dinner, they chatted about Natalie’s caregiving, Robert’s school year and Greg’s repairman business, basically catching up on with each other until curfew at 10pm. Robert couldn’t sleep that night. He imagined how the road trip would go and the fact that he would get to spend more time with the kangaroo… before he sacrifices himself for the world.