Chapter Nine - Home for Thanksgiving
In the weeks to follow, the assignments continued to be piled onto to us, and one by one we started to lose people by the curbside. As Adam's birthday and Thanksgiving approached, the first semester English class shrank from twenty-one students down to fifteen. A partial refund of tuition fees was available to those students who changed their mind about the Program within the first month after commencement. Some have decided to cut their losses and drop out, rather than continue to endure the brutal pace and demands of the Program.
I'll be honest. There were several times when I became discouraged and wanted to just hop the bus and go home. But, I remembered that last awful phone call and conversation I had with my sister Ariana before she and Nick moved away. And in some twisted way, she really did me a favor when she told me I wouldn't last through the first semester. I was damned well going to prove her wrong. And so I persevered and tried to keep focus on why I was there and what my end goals were.
The sacred five who I thought would be the ones to make it through the first semester, Alan, Robyn, Diane, Lyne and Greg offered up their own surprises. As we entered the second week of October, Lyne dropped out, then followed by Robyn. I must admit that Robyn was not a surprise to me. Lyne however...well that rocked me somewhat. I was to learn later that her Father had been diagnosed with Cancer and as he was divorced and as Lyne was his only child, she was stepping in to provide health care and support to him. I was truly sorry to see her leave the program. She had real talent. "I hope she returns to the Program sometime in the future," I thought to myself. I knew though, that had it been one of my parents, I would have done the exact same thing without a moment's hesitation.
Greg continued to chat up every female in the class. And it always seemed to me that his projects and presentations seemed to assimilate design concepts that were suspiciously 'borrowed' from those fellow classmates who fell under his spell.
Alan always seemed to manage to complete his assignments and continued to maintain his 'C+' average. He remained just under the radar and avoided the dreaded wooden rod that Camilla continued to brandish like a demented, near-sighted empress. As the weeks rolled on, I have to admit his sarcasm and biting, sometimes cruel wit and observations made me glad he was sitting beside me, even though he made me feel less than him somehow when he compared my parents with his.
As for Diane, I was determined I would be her partner for the group assignments we were told would be coming up in the second and third terms. She was my hero.
My marks seemed to be all over the place that first semester. I tried to focus on what courses I considered to be important and which were prerequisites to pass in order to go on to the next stage. For example, Interior Design One was a precursor to Interior Design Two and such until the final year, when a major thesis project on hotel and restaurant planning would complete the Program. We had some 'fluff' courses which were added to the curriculum in order to meet the requirements of the Program and provide opportunities for creative expression. They touched upon Industrial and Graphic Design, Professional Photography, History of Art and English, of all things. And, while they did little more than create additional stress with more workload and assignments, I have to admit I found some of them to be fun and a welcome respite from drafting and building construction and assembling abstract models reflecting Design theory and principles.
Lynda Naagy-Birdsong's major assignment for my first semester was stumping me though. Even so, I have to admit I found her lectures on History of Design and Architecture, as well as her ones on History of Furniture Design to be interesting and useful. Giving Lynda credit, she knew how to hold a student's attention and was knowledgeable on the subject matter she spoke about in her classes. But the one major project we were given by her to be handed in for 60% of our grade for the first semester was one I just could not get my head around. It was to be either a presentation booklet or series of display boards reflecting Architectural History from our own personal, creative perspective and was to demonstrate our knowledge of certain periods of Architecture. As well, it was to be a visually appealing, professional-looking presentation integrating best practices of Graphic Design in how we laid out whatever subject matter we were planning to cover.
"Hi Mom. I'm glad you called! How are things in Brockville?"
"Hello Aaron. Everything is good here. Blackjack misses you and has been moping around the house for the past month. You are coming home for Thanksgiving on October 10th, I'm assuming?"
"Yes, of course Mom! I'm coming home for the whole weekend. I could use the break. And I'm looking forward to Thanksgiving Dinner with you and Dad. Your apple pie is something I wouldn't miss. Oh, and thanks for asking Adam too. I know he appreciated the invitation."
"Aaron, give Adam a call and ask him to ask his Mother to come as well. She'd probably welcome a break from having to do up her own dinner for Thanksgiving and letting someone else entertain her for a change."
"OK, Mom I will and I ask him to get back to you."
"We miss you, Aaron."
"Hi Adam!"
"Hi cookie. I miss you, baby! I'm glad you called. What's up?"
"Well, we haven't talked all week and I miss you too. I just got off the phone with Mom. She called me and told me to speak to you about having your Mom come to join us all for Thanksgiving dinner. Would you ask her and maybe give Mom a call to let her know if she can come too? She said it might give her a nice break from having to cook herself."
"Ok babe. Sure thing. But, she might be having her own dinner with Bast' though. And remember, she wants you to come for dinner too, maybe on the Friday when you are down that weekend. I sure hope you like turkey! Hah, hah, hah!"
Well, the food up here is the pits. So any home-cooked meal would be appreciated, Adam. You know I think I've actually lost weight."
"Baby, your only 125 pounds soaking wet now! You can't afford to lose weight. Don't wantcha' getting sick up there, Aaron!"
"I know."
"Ummmm, Aaron...I better warn you about your Mom before you come down that weekend. I went over to help her get her garden ready for winter and she, ummmm, well...she, uh, kinda' looks a bit different since you started school."
"What do you mean, Adam?"
"Well baby, she got her hair done in a big, frizzy 'Afro' and was wearin' a bright red, one piece pantsuit when I was over there! She sorta' looks like she's tryin' to look like that woman outta' that movie 'The Bride of Frankenstein,' and she asked me to teach her how to do 'The Hustle' 'cause she wanted to go out sometime to the disco out at Long Beach!"
"What? Tell me you're kidding! And how 'dare' you compare my Mother to Elsa Lanchester! Hah, hah, hah, hah!"
"Nope, Aaron. I'm bein' dead serious, baby. I asked your Dad about it and he just kinda' shrugged his shoulders and said something about her going through Menopause. And then he laughed and said she'd been going through it for the last twenty-five years of their marriage! It's actually kinda' funny what he said, babe!"
"Oh my God! I can't imagine! Thanks for warning me, Adam!"
"How are the assignments and courses going, baby? I know you've been busy. It's been really hard for me not to pick up the phone to talk with ya'. But I wantcha' to concentrate on your studies there."
Adam, I rather you call me, even if only to talk for a couple of minutes rather than sit around here and wonder why you haven't called. Let's make a deal to call each other every couple of days, OK?
