Pages

Friday, February 10, 2012

                     ON BEING CAREFUL OF WHAT YOU WISH FOR

This big idea of mine to get out of high school faster seemed to be constantly stymied.
No convincing my mother that 'free school' would be perfect for me ('Summerhill' had been read cover to cover). Next, my high school art teacher supported and convinced my mom that enrolling at Parsons School of Design would be great for me. This plan was working for awhile until I foolishly shared with mom that the school was in a 'rough' part of New York City- that ended that dream.

Next, some guy my age convinced me on the idea that the private school he attended in Saskatchewan was a very cool place and students could graduate a year earlier.
In Saskatchewan high school was completed in Grade 12, so I could get out of Grade 13 in the province of Ontario. Yipee!



I was in on this full throttle.

My father, after mom shared my wishes to him, thought this was an excellent idea. I was surprised. He never seemed to agree with me on anything in those days.

It was early summer vacation now and this 'guy' wanted me to meet his father.
OMG, his father was WAY BEYOND THE BEYOND!
I mean with all due respect, I had never met a more strict, scarey guy in my life.
     This man, not too far below the surface, had a palpable rage...actually, on second thought, he had no fear in directing it at me. It was the first, second and the third degree. I was very happy to get out of that house.

     Days after meeting the 'dad', this fellow confessed that he had lied to me.  He shared that it was a very strict school, extremely religious and he was miserable there. Continuing on, he wanted a happier life for himself and had dreamed we might become boyfriend and girlfriend, though, he confided, there was the 'six inch rule' and it would make it difficult for us since the staff looked through binoculars when students walked together.

"Whoa!"

     I did appreciate his honesty and sweetness...though, remembering his father didn't help much.
     As soon as I got to my house, I adamantly declaring that the 'plan' was off- to mom first (dad second) filling her in on the details.
     My father wouldn't budge.
     "You are going and that's that", he said.

     I had no idea at the time how much he wanted me out of the house. The eldest of four, certainly very precocious, it seemed my father had had enough of me.
     Anyway, come September, off to the train I went with my steamer trunk of stuff.

     It was not a happy goodbye. My family were at assembled in a line on the platform. Sister crying, little brother confused, other brother wondering, what?...I don't recall my mom looking at me; dad was all business. I didn't even have time to say goodbye to my school mates. In hindsight, I had been quite popular.
     I still have that photo my sister took of me sitting at my birth, on the train. Looking down, emotionless and frozen, not a happy photograph.

     Ever resilient, I enjoyed my train ride.

     Arriving in Moose Jaw, Saskatchewan, after a few days, I had already planned to take a taxi to this school. No sooner had I stepped off the train than I was corralled  by two very large men in suits. They looked like KGB agents. Sounding my full name very formally, they said, "we will be driving you to the school."

     I said, "That's OK, I'll get there by myself."
    They muffled a full out laugh.

Sitting in the backseat of their car, it was a silent ride.

     I knew when we turned into the school grounds off TransCanada Highway #1 and read the huge billboard, "Welcome to Briercrest Bible Institute, Home of the Lord" I was toast.


No comments:

Post a Comment