Road to Canada

It has been planed for many years. Our journey which took us to one place in Canada and changed us forever. Why you ask? I didn't mean that in a bad way, on the contrary, time we spent there surely has left marks on our lives(and red ones on our bodies). Anyway, I'm about to tell you the greatest story of my life.


It all began on one beautiful Saturday morning. Of course if by beautiful you mean getting up at three in the morning and rushing to get dressed, check the bags if you brought the tools for shaving.

"I can go for a month without shaving, but not a day without vitamins. Light hurts my eyes. Turn it off."

"You better hurry up if Tomaz and you want to get to the airport in time."

Sometimes I wonder if this torment is maybe someone else's punishment from hell. Or maybe it's just mine which hellishly got here early. That's it.

"Come on! The car is out and ready."

"Good for it."

"Hey! Stop screwing around and get out!"

"Are you saying that I'm not welcomed here anymore? Where are those razors?"

"We're already late."

"It's not the end of the world."

But if I keep this up it will be for me. Screw shaving. I'm not shaving in Canada. They have beards, I saw it on TV.
That's the last of it. I'm ready. A bit nervous, but if I compare it to my father I'm, in his opinion, just a silly experiment that has to be driven to the bus station to meet with his weird friend.

"I'll put the bags back."

"OK." my ex-dad responded.

My dog is probably very happy for me, after all my father let's him in the house more than I do. I got the feeling she won't miss me. From her point of view, a pair of legs less in her life. As always I say to her something like "You're this house's last hope" and she just watches me as a funny pair of legs. Good for her. I close the gate and take a look one more time at my dog and my house. Car is waiting.

Are these car doors of any use? I mean, you spend half of your life trying to close them and then you just realize that the window-opening thingy fell off.
And the ease of putting safety belt on just scares me. If safety is the main objective, they could have installed gallows - it would save more lives.

"Let’s go."

The sound of that machine just gives you the exact feeling how cars were made in the beginning, from scrap parts. I believe they're still making them like that, at least in this country.

I never liked the idea of naming blind dark morning. Morning is when the sun is shining, when old people go to shops to buy warm bread and greenies. Old people pretend that they eat a lot of healthy and nutritious vegetables. Bacon and fat is their game.

Were just passing that industry leader in making employed people unemployed. They're really good at collecting great amounts of garbage, as if they don't produce it enough and creating such dense, colorful and rich in flavors, smoke. They really deserve a medal for that.

As were getting closer to Tomaz’s house, I can only see some old people on their bicycles. Slowly advancing toward the city. They're mostly men. I suppose that grannies don't like Tour de France every morning, or is it that men are just glad to have an excuse to get away.

"There he is."

"Mhm."

I can see that he's not happy. And who would be in three in the morning. I got out to help him with his bags. But first a handshake. Most of us youngsters got that silly custom when we were doing our time in secondary school. And when I say silly I really mean stupid. Why? Well I don't need to shake somebody's hand in order to respect him. He should know that only a few people on this world deserve respect. People like Mr. Tomaz, The Simpsons and Mr. Bender and sometimes the Pope(because he's polish).
It's always like this, if it's early or late we don't smile to each other. But I got the feeling we'll make up for that, later, on the bus and even more on the plane.

"Ready?" I ask him "Packed all things you need? I didn't bring my shaving kit."

"Good." says he.

I can tell he's unlikely to smile or laugh while my till-now father is around. He didn't want to make a fool of himself. Now that's stupid because I've been doing that my whole life. Well, sometimes I got smacked, but where's the fun when you can't make look-at-me situations?

City. It's as dead as a rat during that rain storm couple of years back, when women got the courage to slap rats with brooms, while the rats were trying to breathe and swim. Brave women we got here, brave indeed. Even the the teenagers are all sleeping after a hard work of going out. I could tell because we saw a bunch of them, drunk, sleeping. Some were sleeping on grass, some on pavement meant for bicycles and some on each other.

There is only one vehicle at the bus station. It looked decent.

"God give us some decent seats. I've been a good boy."

"That's what you say when you're asking for a present, from a red fatty." says Tomaz.

"That's two flies with one fly-killing thingy." I responded.

"Riiight." says he.

Car stopped by the entrance of the bus station. I could have bet my left kidney that it stopped on it's own.
"Why did they put brakes in this?"

"Would you rather walk? says my almost-father.

"Let’s hurry up." reacted Tomaz.

"Let’s." I say.

Bags are somewhat bigger. I didn’t remember putting yeast in them.
It's a fact that Tomaz never complains about weight. It doesn't matter how heavy it is, he'll pick it up without a word. I tried to help him couple of times but he simply refused to share the pain. Maybe that's good for something. Not for me, that's for sure. Lucky bastard.
Bus was already waiting so we decided to take the best seats. It was somewhat easy, they were all decent. Back is my name and middle's my game, so we took the front seats. Bags were like designed for our bus. They never look if there’s enough space for luggage, there has to be. And if you tell them that you have something delicate in there you’ll get the usual “Don’t tell me how to do my job mister!” line. I never liked that mirror anyway. My father followed us to our seats.

"I'll send you a card, and one for mum. Do you need anything from Canada? I mean while I'm there?" I said.

"No, no. Enjoy you're trip and be good." he looks us both "Enjoy as much as you can, both of you." he said.

"You know we won't." I tried to make us laugh.

All of sudden our bus started shaking. Women and children first! Oh, it's just getting started.

"I guess that's it."

"We'll stay in touch."

A good father-son handshake and a solid handshake with Tomaz.

"If we don't get back we're broke or have found the love of our lives in Japan."

"That's not so bad."

"So am I welcomed home?"

"I'll think about that." and with a smile and a waving hand he steps off the bus. Doors close and we're off.

Some people like to travel by bus knowing that includes the possibility seeing a beautiful landscape. Others prefer sights of wild animals. But all are more than willing to see road victims. Now some would say that is a pretty sick bunch of people, but it could be that people here are just more interested in anatomy. I can't say that we saw any crashes or landscapes or anything for that matter, both of us were sleeping. And then, all of sudden, we were there, in Belgrade.

"We're here." he told me.

"In Canada already?"

"No, dumb bass. At the airport."

"Yeah. Yeah. Airport, airport. We're going to fly!"

"If you don't stop acting like that we're hiking to Canada."

"I love hiking."

So with all that baggage we set our feet on the Belgrade soil. It was a dirty pavement.

"I got an old chewing gum on my sneaker." I noticed.

"How on earth do you mean to get to the airport acting like this?!" as he was getting nervous.

"I sir, am not acting." I replied.

"Then hurry up and give me your bags and buy the damn tickets."

"Give me the money!"

Now, I didn't mention that I, in my entire life, didn't spend one day in Belgrade. I was trying not to get lost. I noticed that there were two lines of people, very long and slow-moving. So, I picked the longer line. Why? Well, in all of these years of traveling, always and always someone who just arrived and took the longer queue waited less. After ten minutes of standing behind some weird granny I got there.

"Is there any bus that goes to the airport directly?" I asked.

"Yes" as she was checking timetables "there is one in fifteen minutes."

"Give me two cards."

Some old piece of plastic that they call printer let out some toilet paper which were our tickets. I returned to Tomaz.

"We're set. Let’s go."

The vehicle that was our bus seemed a bit depressive. Not that I don't like things from 1965 but it's color was, well...unique. It was dirty white. Basically it was painted white but has not been cleaned in years, perhaps, since it was bought. As if that was not enough, the whole world wanted to get in it. It wasn't the first time that I experienced standing for an hour and definitely not the first time I had to hold my breath.

It is well known that vehicles like this one are meant for homo sapiens but here are used to transport livestock, literally. I was sitting next to a older gentleman who was, obviously, from that sort of people who just wait for people like me and Tomaz. They wait and then they take a knife and then, something happens.
Tomaz was sitting next to some child. Child was about three years old which meant that Tomaz and he had a lot to talk about.

I could say I'm a tolerant person. I just know it. I can swear that folk, as they call it, music, took surely ten days from my life. It is impossible, even to imagine, a bus ride without some folk "music". Our bus with its specially tuned engine, was producing more noise than that excuse for a radio. I couldn't even hear what were people around me talking about. God was merciful. Finally I could see the airport. We're there. Only nine hours of flight and we're there.
After all that crowd and "music", all we had to do was buy tickets and fly. Or so it seemed.

"Two tickets for Vancouver."

"One way ticket?"

"Yes."

That was probably the most beautiful moment in our lives. We were going to Canada.

We had about an hour till our flight so we sat and waited.

"We are going to see bears and tree's and bees and houses!" I said excitingly.

"I hope that our plane is better than our bus." Tomaz said.

"But of course it isn't." I smiled. "Let’s buy some alcohol for the trip."

"Are you sure you're not an idiot?" he noticed, "They wouldn't let us at the custom."

"So what are you going to give your relatives? You must give them something. I saw it in movies. Even neighbors give presents to each other and I can tell you now that they will be expecting something. If you don't give them something they'll send you home and call your mother and tell her that they haven't seen this kind of troublemaker in all their lives."

"No they won't."

"Yes they will. And they'll have to kill you, in your bed, in your pink pajamas. And then they will laugh at you."

He just smiled and looked around.

"You know there are people here?"

"No there are not. They're just in your head. Let me take them out. You see, my friend, you are a classic example of how someone is in need of alcohol."

"We can't buy it."

"I'll tell on the custom that it is for medical purposes."

"Since when is beer used in medicine?"

"We don't have to take beer, we can just buy a bottle of vodka. Or maybe some liqueur. Think. We could use it as a present for your relatives."

"Like they don't have empty bottles there."

"I won't drink all of it. I'll leave some for them. Honest."

"Of course you are."

"So tell me again about your relatives."

"Well, they live in Canada. They seem to be very nice and I don't know how will I explain you to them."

"Just say we're spiritually connected."

"That would be worse than telling them..." he was thinking when I interrupted him "that you're gay?"

"No. You see. How am I going to introduce you?"

"Leave that to me."

"Then, it would be better for me not to enter that airplane."

"Don't worry. I can be polite. When I need or want to. Really."

"God, help me."

"I won't."

Our airplane was waiting.

"Take my bags bitch." on which Tomaz replied with a finger. Because of him we went for a nonalcoholic version of our flight.

There was a lady at the entrance of our airplane who asked for our tickets. She was smiling a lot, more than us. As we were searching for our seats I began a conversation with Tomaz.

"Just think about it. That would be a perfect job. Just smile at people feed them and tell them everything's fine and not to panic."
"And when they see two guys who can't stop laughing like they're on some bad drugs. What do you think they'll think?"

"Happy people?"

"Serbs." he said as he was putting his baggage above our seats.

"But wait, getting paid to amuse people. And they don't even laugh at you. That's better than circus."

"But it isn't that simple. I mean, it's a job. And just imagine, you could die. It's an airplane. And you would probably have to take some kind of exam."

"What?! What kind exam do you need to laugh? Or which, for that matter, do you need to take to be able to feed people on the airplane?"

"You have to have something. I'm almost certain."

"Yeah right. Here, you just say that you finished secondary school and that you haven't learned anything. That you're good in bed. And as far as feeding is concerned, you can tell them that you have cows and sheep and a couple of chicks at home. Now you tell me, is there any difference in feeding cows and feeding people?"

"People don't have four legs and don't eat grass."

"No. People are very interesting species. Firstly, they smoked chocolate. Now they eat it. Then they have forgotten to walk on all four. Finally. People nowadays smoke, well, some kind of grass. Think of the future. Opening a grass restaurant could be a big hit."

"I was blind but now I will never see again!"

"Don't get so theatrical. God sent me to help you so that you can lead your people over the sea."

"And you say they didn't find anything on your brain? Man they're stupid. You have no brain!"

"I didn't touch your ma."

"You're really sick."

"Glad to be with you,... my son."

This time he didn't reply.
Our seats began to shake and the stewardess, on drugs, started waving with her floppy hands. Flight was about to start.

"Man! My eyes are outstanding. I can perfectly see people on the land."

"You sick monkey. We haven't taken off yet."

"But I'm high."

"Not only you're sick but on drugs."

"Life's my drug."

"Then we need to "rehabilitate" you."

"Your female cousin is going to hear how evil you are. I mean it."

"I have two cousins and they're both female."

"Then I'll tell it to one that sings and she
will sing about her evil cousin and then you will cry."

This was enough to leave him in silence. He put his palms over his face and started laughing.

"Cry! Cry it all out!" I was encouraging him to laugh.

Sound of airplane filled our heads. We stopped laughing and checked our belts. Then I noticed something.

"Your zipper isn't closed."

"It very hard to close it."

"That's not an excuse. Your adder might get out. You might rape someone, accidentally."

His finger appeared once more.
Airplane started moving and after a moment we all started flying.
There was a slight change in Tomazes face, as if he had a toothache.

"Feeling nervous?"

He just closed his eyes trying to concentrate.

"You know, it doesn't mean that you can't die with your eyes closed. Even worse, you'll miss all those fiery and, literally, breathtaking effects."

"Stop it! Stop it!" he screamed.

I quickly took some magazine and started pretending that I was reading it. Stewardess heard this and, with a big and concerned smile, approached us. All of sudden magazine went up and covered my face.

"Is there any problem?" she asked and noticed that I was laughing as if that magazine presented a wall. Tomaz opened his eyes.

"It's ok. It's just that my friend likes to scare people."
Stewardess took another look at me but this time without that magic smile.
And then, the fatal blow.

"I didn't know that pregnancy is so popular among young people today." she said.

Beside all that laughing I have forgotten to take a look at what I was reading: a pregnancy magazine, My baby.

"Well..." as I was trying to get myself out of this "my girlfriend and I have been talking about "those" things for some time."

"Really?" which sounded more like "And I am a rat in Chinese horoscope."

Tomaz was no help at all. He just nodded his head and was clearly with stewardess on this. I had to stop this.

"Really. Yes, well, I may seem to you, to be scaring my friend, but aren't plane crashes, well, deadly?"

"Sir! Try to behave yourself. There are other passengers beside you."

"I know, I know. But, you see" I whispered to her "my friend has a cancer. I was just trying to cheer him up. Honest. He doesn't have much time left."

Tomaz let this pass, only because he knew I would get into more trouble.

"Sir, that is enough." she reacted.

"It true. Just look at him. Doesn't he look sick? Look."

"Cancer, in most cases, can't be seen. It's not so apparent as you might think it is."

She was good. I always thought that people, like this stewardess, had no problems and didn't notice any that didn't concerned them. I was dead wrong.

"Yes. It isn't. Isn't it?" as my ideas were leaving my so-called head which was turning red.

"Now, let you companion rest and try not to upset him."

With those words she left us. I had to comment this.

"Why didn't you back me up? And you call yourself a friend? You should fight with dogs for man's-best-friend title. Even then, dogs have the advantage – they're more human than you."

He just kept silent while getting a smile on his face.

"I won’t talk to you again! That's right. Never again!"

I had to move my view somewhere else. The window beside me would have to do. He would have to beg me to speak with him, beg like a squirrel. A couple of moments passed.

"Fine." he replied.

I wanted him to beg.

"You're not going to get mad, are you?"

Beg.

"I had to do that. You just wouldn't shut up."

Beg. He thought about this for a while.

"You like this, don't you? You want me to beg."

"Yes I do." after which we both smiled.

After that, I fell asleep.

Now, I have never slept so high like this. The highest place where I slept was my cousins bed which had two mattresses. They were doing some house repairing and didn't know where to put all those things, and one mattress led to another. Meanwhile I arrived there to help and ended on that bed. I can tell you now, that was some scary experience, but I got the hang of it after the second fall. I never thought it would come in useful.

Anyway, I had a dream. I was sitting on some rock in the middle of nowhere. Green grass everywhere around me. And a path, made out of stones. I was still sitting there, thinking. Why do I always have to dream something enigmatic? So, I stood up, looked around me. Nobody around. I needed a hike anyway. After a minute or so there was a sign. Something red, looks like a leaf. Canada? There was someone waving at me. I waved back. Somehow this seemed real to my mind, waving at someone who is beside something leafy and red, in the middle of nowhere. All of sudden, he was here, and I was there. He looked like someone, someone who held an axe. Also his beard. Was it here before? His beard gave away his manhood. I stared for a moment.

"Are you a Canadian?"

His voice. It was already in my head, like a whisper.

"Yes. Yes I am."
"I think I saw you on TV. All Canadians have beards. Right?"

He thought about this for a while.

"I suppose so."

A moment of silence. His clothes were somewhat yellowish.

"So, who are you?"

"I am the God of Canada. Protector of axes and tree's, ...and Canadians too. I appear
before bad woodcutters before they die."

"Umm?"

"And also in miracles."

"Am I dead? Wait, wait! How come that I get to see you and I'm not even a woodcutter?"

"No. You are not dead. And you are not a woodcutter, yet."

"And that means, what?"

"You have been chosen by the evil one. You will bring doom to my land."

"How come that I don't know anything about this? I'm almost certain that if I wanted to bring "doom" to Canada, I wouldn't come here. I'm almost certain."

"Silence foul one! Your kind will devour our land, our tree's, our life."

"No need to be rude. And for the record, I don't eat tree's and mud."

"Not now."

"Why are you being such a jerk?! I demand to see my lawyer!"

In a puff of smoke someone appears. He wasn't that odd. He had a nice black Armani with a red shirt and a black tie which perfectly suited his crimson red shoes.

"Let me guess. You're the devil and my lawyer?"

"All in one." with his whispery and honey-like voice.

"So how much do you charge? A soul or two?"

"One will be enough." He smiled.

"Riiight. Listen. Pocahontas here says that I'll bring doom to "his" land."

"That is almost true." my lawyer responded "As I remember" looking at the papers in his hand that weren't there "my client will take your daughter, forest princess, and marry her. Which will bring joy and happiness, right after apocalypse."

"That's true."

Then I thought about it.

"What?!"

My lawyer approached me and made all that whispering before sound like a war zone.

"Don't ever! Ever! Do that again." returning his honey-like voice.

"I won’t. Honest."

"Don't forget, I know you. That honest won’t work with me."

I needed something fast.

"So help me Go...Devil."

"That's better."

The Canadian God interrupted.

"Can we proceed?"

I saw this in movies. My lawyer was first to be dealt with.

"What if we win?"

He thought about it. I could see it on his devilish face.

"Then, then you get another soul."

"What would I do with that? Is there room for that here?" as I was pointing to my chest.

"Does it matter?"

"No. Just asking. Can I give it to you later for money, happiness, success and those things?"
"Yeah. Sure. If we win."

"Kay. Now defend me."

Lumberjack was growing impatient.

"Can we proceed?"

"My attorney will take over."

"So Mr.?"

"Devil."

"Mr. Devil. You client is charged with doom bringing. Do you have anything to say?"

Devil buttoned his Armani jacket and stood up.

"My client is guilty as charged."

"What?!"

Even Johnny had trouble understanding this.

"I don't understand. You are saying that your client is guilty?"

"Yes."

"Very well."

I had to defend myself. I quickly stood up and noticed that I was still sitting on that rock in middle of nowhere. They. They all had chairs.

"May I say something?"

"No." floral God said.

So much for defense. And that was the end for moi. I never thought that my court-house would look like golf terrain, really, it never came to me. And yes, that I would loose my soul. I closed my eyes. Guilty. Damned. It could be worse. Canadaman started whispering his verdict.

"You are to be damned for eternity!"

I opened my eyes. It wasn’t that bad, now was it?

"But still, I will take you princess."

"No. You wouldn't."

I could see panic in his eyes. In his eyes I could see an ocean of horror. I smiled in his face.

"I'll take good care of her."

And with those words I turned my back and started walking away. Walked and walked, until I couldn't see anything but green around me. Somebody was walking beside me.

"Mind if we walk together?" devil asked.

"No, not at all. You're here for the soul right?"

"And that too."

There were a few moments of silence. I couldn't stand it.

"So, where are you heading?"

"Don't worry. I'm with you all the way."

"What do you mean?" I stopped.

"I'm here to take you to hell."

"Go to hell!"

"I can't. Not without you."

We looked into each others eyes. They say that our eyes represent windows of our soul. His were empty. Black as dark. He was smiling and his tail, waving.
The ground started shaking. Holes were opening beneath me. Screams filled my ears. Devil was still beside me, holding my right hand while we were both falling.

"Let me go foul daemon!"

He just smiled with his empty eyes. He continued to shake my body.

"Wake up we're landing." devil screamed.

"Landing in hell."

"No idiot. We arrived. In Vancouver."
Fiery pit disappeared and Tomaz with stewardess appeared. He looked so strange. I stared into him for a while. He knew that I was completely lost so he started explaining.

"You fell asleep." He was examining me.

"And you wanted alcohol."

We sat like that when the voice said that we are going to land and to prepare ourselves.
Airplane was landing.

Landing was somewhat unusual. Maybe because I have never been in an airplane, or because of the fact that we were expected by Tomazes family. Now, all we had to do is organize, which was entirely Tomazes area. Knowing him since secondary school days gave me a clear picture on how we would end up. Picture was mostly black, probably because we ended up in some cage, which was next to other ones, which contained various wild and dangerous experiments. None of those cages will the privilege to be labeled with a white and red plate – Danger! Do not approach with your wallet. Hazardous materials contained. In addition - all that would be in some abandoned mine which was meant for nuclear waste disposal.
Airplane stopped and as we were taking our backpacks, which were with us all the time, a habit from secondary, a useful one this time. Conversation begun.

“Now remember, this is very important to me. It’s my first time here and I want to leave a good impression and” and then he noticed wires around my neck and that I was actually nodding to some good music. He couldn’t believe it, I was ignoring him, not the first time but an important moment which will change his life forever. And then he tore the wires.

“What are you doing?!”

“Listening to music! Isn’t it obvious?!”

“Stay calm! Listen”

“I know, I know. Don’t worry.”

I could see that he was getting nervous. He started puffing air, a bad sign. Here I go.

“Look. I told you, I can behave. Don’t you trust me? I mean”

He didn’t believe me.

“I serious. I wont tell them anything. I wont tell them about the alcohol, drugs and things like that.”

“Here you go again. Can’t you be normal for one moment. This my family I’m talking about.”

His eyes were full of tears. He really cared about that impression. I had to find my brain.
“Listen. I was a jerk.”

“Yes you were.”

“Kay. I admit it. Line. The moment I walk out that door” pointing to the exit “you will not hear one, one word which would make you feel uncomfortable.”

He just listened.

“Nor will I make any kind of situations. Fair?”

“Fair.” he whispered as he was trying not cry.

“I can see that this really means to you. You’ll get only the best from me.”

“You don’t have to overdo it.”

“Then we agreed?”

“Yes yes.”

“OK, ” as I was looking for something that I might have left behind “that’s that. Let us see what are those Canadians made of. Vancouver is waiting.”
Embarrassed by his tears, he started rubbing his eyes. Help is on the way.

“Here” I passed him my sun glasses “put them on. They wont notice anything with these on.”

“Thanks.”

“Hey we’re pals.”

Those were the last words on that airplane.

Couple of moments later we had to tackle with all those people who were migrating with us. And all those flashy pointers – go here do that, just got us more lost. The way I see it problem with rich countries like this one is that the moment they realize they have some coins in their pocket they spend them on confusion. Where, in our country, when people realize that they have some money in pockets either run off or start a singing career. Not having all that economy in air makes everything simple, literally. Example? If compare this airport to the one which we left I must say there are some minor differences. Firstly, here, you can’t see the exit. As if the whole thing is just a huge maze. In our country, lack of economical views, improved that by making the airport more “organized” as in you can see if someone is waiting for flight or if you just arrived, even if you’re blind as a bat, you can see people who are here to pick you up. Secondly, people get lost at airports. Experience in Canada showed us that it was mostly because of people, to many people. Back home, you can get lost using two techniques. Either not knowing what to do with yourself and getting lost out of boredom, or ending up in another country because of our fine and well – oriented pilots.
Anyway, we found our way to the exit, or so we thought. Tomaz looked nervously cool with those shades on. I looked the same but without the glasses. Now imagine those two guys swaying their heads left and right, trying to locate Tomazes family.

“So how do we recognize them?”

“I have seen some of their photos.”

“So how do they look?”

“My uncle is the most difficult to distinguish. But I wouldn’t go that far as my cousins are concerned.”

“Why? Are they ug…, what I wanted to ask is, are they above average or below?”

“Depends on the point of view, what’s ugly for you isn’t for me and vice versa.”

“I didn’t mean that.”

“I know.”

We searched some more.

“See anything?”

“No. Nothing yet.”

“So let’s continue our discussion. In you opinion, does any of the people we’re expecting look good? Excluding males.”

He was growing impatient.

“Yes. But don’t take my word for it. Here, take my wallet.”

“Why?”

“There’s a picture of my cousin.”

“Cool.” as I took it from his hand. There it was, I all of her glory, a Canadian girl.

“Nice. Cute in way.”

“You like it? Wait wait. You said cute.”
“Yeah. She looks fine, I mean for a Canadian.”

Grin appeared on his face. This was amusing for him. Torturing me with this picture of an angel. She was just, everything. Those eyes, and that face. It’s simply perfect. I usually don’t like children, they’re mostly messy. Only thing I don’t get, why in woods? Familiar scene. I couldn’t get my sight off that picture. Couple of time I had to take a look where am I going and, caught that Tomazes smile grew wider and wider. Was my impression with his cousin that funny? Then I looked up and there they were, the Canadians. And the little princess was not there. Familiar.

“There they are.” Tomaz said as he was waving to them. If there was any decision I think we decided that we were the ones who wait and they should be the ones who approach.

“They don’t look different.” I said.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean Canadian. They don’t look Canadian. All that traveling and devil knows what, only to see a average family. Is one man and woman, plus their kid, worth seeing? What’s so Canadian about that?”

“What?!” as he noticed my “bla bla” talk.

“Wait. You said they had two kids?”

“Yes, one plus one, supposedly, makes two.”

“Have you ever thought that nowadays one on one usually gives one, rarely two and sometimes three and four?”

I consider myself to have some strengths and philosophy is one of them.

“What are you talking about?”

“Umm, nothing, you never understood that damn math anyway. But biology, I always thought that you vegetarians know your biology.”

Now imagine that you’re the most bizarre insect(grasshopper), and you have been caught, by some nature freak-geek. He takes you home, takes his gloves and all that glass that goes with those freak packs, and puts you in a jar. Hell-like glassy jar, and lamp, there has to be one. Without it, no let’s-pretend laboratory can be complete. So you’re there, in thee center of happening, happening. Our little do-it-yourself scientist takes something sharp and there you go, Texas needle massacre all over again. After a few centuries of torment, and at the end of your one day life, from which you lived only two thirds, you notice his face. That face. You know that grasshoppers don’t read and that face can’t be read, but let’s leave that aside. Ok, you’re a magical, born under a sign of a red leaf, one huge and smart grasshopper. Now, after we’ve settled that, you can see that face, you can “magically” read it, and suddenly it’s not about him, the next Mengela, but there’s something wrong with you. Of course it is. You’re the one with only two legs left and you’re strange? Anyway, that’s the exact face I got from Tomaz. His relatives were getting dangerously close. I just had to talk.

“So that kid with them”

“Yes?”

“doesn’t look like the one I saw on that picture. The girl I saw was really,” and the stare again “really fine.”

“But they are much older now. Actually, the one you saw is only one year back from us.”

“Is she? This will be interesting.”

His uncle and one of his cousins got to us.

“Hello.” his uncle started as we were shaking hands with all of them “Welcome to Canada.”

I knew it. It’s always like this, best things get left home, in this case, persons.

“I am Boris and this is one of my daughters, Natasha.”

I just kept pretending like I never heard those names.

Shaky welcome and a ride to their home. I was hoping for a more usual approach, that can be seen back home, family with pets plus all cousins and distant relatives. On top of that a music band and a piggy on the grill. And here, they welcomed us with only two people? But that’s ok, I’ll forgive them, this time.

“Let me help you with that.” his uncle offered a hand. Who was I to refuse.

A few bump and thumps and our baggage was there, in the car. I always wondered why carmakers never came to an idea to make buses. It was obvious that their tiny cars had more space than those flashy vehicles that they call buses. There can be only explanation, and that’s probably stuck somewhere in Molders drawers.
We got ourselves comfortable which wasn’t a problem. The car was huge and look, the doors are working!

“Everyone comfy?”

“No, uhh” as my ribs got acquainted with Tomaz’s elbow “yes sir.”

“Please, you don’t need to call me like that.” If he was back home with us, this would be his biggest mistake for the rest of his life. Luckily, he wasn’t there.

“Well” his uncle started “Tomaz will probably call me uncle, and you.” He thought about it “Just call me Boris.”

“Very well Boris sir.”

“No no. Just Boris.”

“Boris sir?”

A quick sigh.

“Without the “sir” thingy.”

“Ok Boris.”

“That’s it.”

His uncle was great. Even more than that, he tolerated things like myself. We’ll get along just fine.
Vancouver was slipping by our windows. It was all green and spring-like, looked pretty much like home, except the fact that it was bigger and had a bit more people in it. Natasha decided to break silence that surrounded us with her questions.

“What kind of music do you guys listen?”

Tomaz quickly, in panic, looked at me. He knew as well as I did that his cousin was listening only to those hip-hop rap guys, and it was imperative not to mention anything except that. I had different plans.

“Turbo folk.”

“Eh? And that is, what?”

“You wouldn’t understand. It’s a unique experience. It can’t be described by words.”

“Thank God for that.” Tomaz muttered.
Her eyes were giving her away. Natasha was confused

“There must be something to compare it with.”

I thought.

“I could say it pretty similar to hip-rep.”

“Hip-hop.”

“Yes, rep-hop.”

She couldn’t believe her ears.

“What?!”

“As I was saying, it’s something like you’re listening.”

“Really? In what way?”

“In such a way” think think “that, it describes, a way of life.”

“You mean like difficult survival and problems we encounter in life.”

“Yes, in a way.”

The only place where you can put he word survival is when you’re listening to it and you pray that your ears will survive.

A second of tranquility. I could imagine Tomaz and me packing, getting ready that nuclear disposal.

“You’re funny.” She said.

Those were the word of relief, I passed the exam.

“I know.”

And the reward, her smile full of Canadian white teeth.
After her questions were answered, she turned the radio on and there was some hip-hop-rap, happening. This was somewhat odd to Tomaz and me. Tomaz was trying not to think of it, after all he was their blood, while I had the freedom. It came to me that in all of these years of being alive I never saw one single parent who loved his child so much, that he would tolerate this kind of sound, not to mention getting into it. Uncle Boris was simulating the beat with his head, interesting. Who knows what grotesque things I’ll see with these eyes of mine.
Tomaz took the lead.

“How long until we arrive?”

“About twenty minutes.” His uncle replied.

That was too much. Too much for listening to that “music”. I had a plan, or better yet, I thought of one.

“Natasha.”

“Yes?” as she turned her head to the back of a car and turned the radio off. Now it was up to me to keep our ears alive.

“Have you ever been to a zoo?”

“But of course, silly.”

“Have you ever imagined how would it be to work there?”

“No. Not really.”

“Want to hear about it. That was my first job.”

“Being a hyena?”

“Natasha!” uncle intervened.

“No, really?

“Why not. Let’s hear it.”

Tomaz had a perfect memory, he was almost certain that I never worked, let alone, in a zoo. He was about to speak, but unfortunately, my elbow was acquainted with his ribs.

“Very well, if you insist madam. It all began on one beautiful day, which was not that beautiful until I stumbled upon a magic newspaper.”

“Magic?”

“Are you telling the story?”

“Continue.”

“Where was I, ah yes, the ad.”

“I just got my diploma from secondary school, I was smart and I had a diploma to prove that. So, like any loving parent, my dad, with who I live, said that he will throw me out if I don’t find a job. Now, you have to understand, those were harsh times, democracy and things like that.”

“How come that Tomaz wasn’t forced to find a job?”

“Good question.” Tomaz added.

“Well, he had medical problems.”

“I did?”

“Senility. So young and so senile. Pity.”

She got the hang of it. She started giggling.

“Right, the job. There are these ads that come out every Saturday. I searched and I searched and that day I found one from local zoo. They were looking for someone, with or without experience, to help. Why not I thought, I had that not-having-experience. There was a phone number so I called them up right away. Someone from their office answered. They also said that interview was a must. No problem. Then, it hit me, where to go. I had to think of question how to get to their offices. I couldn’t ask: “I know, it’s just left of lions, in the primate sector.”. Anyway they told me where and when. I took my best suit, got all smelly and things. A day later, I was sitting in front of their excuse for a general manager. I bet he felt inferior in every way, or was suppose to. To be honest, I was feeling like that during the whole interview. It was because of his Robin Hood aura. The interview finished, I got the job.”

“So were you feeding the lions?”

“Much worse. I was in charge of feeding ferocious beasts like that one-eye penguin, a bunch of squirrels and that poor owl that was beside the squirrels. They were driving the owl nuts. It’s like they were fed with ecstasy.”

“And the lions?”

“There were no lions. Beside these three, there was a pair of hedgehogs. They were pretty much still, dead if you prefer.”

“So what was it like? Working the whole day?”

“Working? I was there only two days. After that I didn’t care about my old man. Better his wrath than those epileptic squirrels.”

“So you would let you father beat you?”
“It’s not about beating but about not eating for, how long can go without eating?”

“A week.”

“And without water?”

We were smiling into each other’s face, thinking how to outwit the other and make him laugh.

“We are almost there.” Uncle Boris announced.

We were in suburbs. We were almost home.

To be continued.