— Chapters appear as excerpts only. —
— Full chapters will appear in the printed published book. —
And so began my new university life in Delaware Hall. Before going to bed the first night, I went down the hall to the common washrooms, brushed my teeth and washed up. I returned to my room to read some of the information about the university, and turned off the reading light above my bed. Penny came in later, got undressed, and went to bed. We said nothing to each other.
When I woke up the next morning, Penny wasn’t there. I don’t know where she went. I joined Samantha and her roommate for the registration meeting in a very spacious and elegant room that had a high ceiling, chandeliers and solid wood panelling on the walls. Several couches flanked the walls, but with so many girls together, most of us sat on the carpeted floor. We were told by the dean of the residence that we were all very, very lucky. There was high demand for space in Delaware Hall and we were fortunate to get a room here. This confirmed how smart I was to send in my application early. I knew exactly which university I wanted to go to, which program I wanted to take, and which residence I wanted to stay in. I was decisive. This was good planning on my part.
I listened very carefully to the rules regarding visitors. No boys were allowed in the building except the lobby waiting area. I had hoped to show Roland my room so he could see where I lived, but this would not be possible. The administrative staff asked us if we would be at the residence over the Thanksgiving weekend. Already they wanted to plan ahead for that. Thanksgiving seemed so far in the future. I just wanted to make it through the first week. I expected I would stay in residence for Thanksgiving weekend, even though I could stay with Roland at his apartment. I was serious about concentrating on my studying. When they asked for a show of hands as to how many would be away for that weekend, almost everyone’s hand shot up. It surprised me that the residence would be almost empty on that weekend, except for Samantha, me, and a few others.
We were informed about the frosh week activities, or orientation, that would start on Wednesday, and continue over the weekend. They called it “initiation.” Everyone in Delaware Hall was expected to take part. All new students were “froshes” and the senior girls would be in charge. It would be lots of fun for everyone, they promised. We would love it, they said.
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As teachers always do when checking attendance, he went alphabetical by the last names, so I had a good idea when my name would be called. I started to get nervous. After he called each name, he looked around the room to see if a student had his or her hand up. If so, he checked the name off on his list. If there was no hand up, then he said, “absent.”
Doom and gloom were settling over me as I realized that he would be reading off my name in front of all these 150 people. This wasn’t Dryden where everyone had heard the name before. The university population of Western was over 5,000 students, about the same as the population a small town.
My hands started to sweat. I looked around me. I almost felt like leaving, but that would centre me out even more. I sat stiffly in my seat, fidgeting and waiting. It didn’t take long for the professor to get to the F names. And then he paused. I knew this was it. I was sure he had stopped at my name. I waited anxiously. He stared down at the attendance list. He moved it closer to his face, and then farther away again. For sure, it was my name he was looking at. He looked puzzled. He hesitated.
He cocked his head slightly to the side and in a very low voice, he uttered “Marlene” before what seemed like another long pause. Then he finished, “Frick.”
How could the professor not pronounce my last name correctly? Freak is not difficult to pronounce. It’s a common English word and sounds the same with or without the capital letter. Maybe he thought it was misspelt. He scrunched his face as if he might have made a mistake, then he corrected and said, “Freak?” as if to ask a question. Maybe the question he was thinking of was, “How did anyone possibly get such a bizarre name.”
I quickly shot up my hand and waved it. Please see my hand and please move on to the next name, I thought. Quickly! I don’t want to look like a freak and I don’t want people to stare at me. If he checked off my name quickly, the auditorium full of students might not notice whose hand is up.
He didn’t see my hand so he then repeated my name, this time much louder, “Marlene Freak.” Oh, for heaven’s sake. Do I have to wave both my hands and stand up, too? Thankfully, he saw my hand then, acknowledged it, probably with pity, and then called the next name. It almost seemed as if he was as relieved as I was. I wondered if he noticed how red my face got. A group of girls a few seats away from me glanced sideways and whispered something to each other. Maybe they were saying, “Oh my god, she’s a freak!”
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I awoke suddenly to hear pots and pans clanging up and down the hallway. I immediately jumped up and looked at the clock. It was 2 a.m. I noticed that Penny wasn’t in her bed.
The yelling started, “Get up everyone! It’s time to rise and shine. We want you out here lined up in the hallway, right now. Get up, get going!”
I ran to the door and locked it. I wasn’t doing this stupid, idiotic duck walk again just so they could show me how much power they had, that we had to do exactly what they told us to. They were a bunch of idiots and I couldn’t stand it. I needed my sleep. I went to my desk and opened a book. Since I was awake anyway, I might as well do some studying.
The noise continued, loud and frantic, with lots of yelling and hollering. I could see out my window to the other wing of the residence. The whole building was lit up now and the noise was deafening. Everyone was scurrying about. Except me, I was not moving. I suppose they had all the girls out in the hallway by now, all lined up, wanting to fit in like a bunch of sheep. Maybe I would hear “baa baa” soon. Well, I would never fit in with this kind of stupidity, so it didn’t matter to me what they were doing. My roommate hated me and I didn’t have the kind of money that these privileged girls had. Did they not understand that I couldn’t afford to fail even one course. Their parents would just hand over more money if they failed. They had safety nets and support from home that I did not have.
They started to pound on my door. “Open up, frosh Freak! We know you’re in there. We’re not going away. You’re going to come out here and get down on your knees like everyone else.”
I ignored them. I didn’t say a word.
“Frosh Freak, get out here! Frosh Freak, we want you. We’re going to get you. You won’t get away with this. Open this door! Frosh Freak! Do you hear us?”
I bet the senior girls felt really smart now, they could use my name in alliteration. How clever and brilliant. My university classes scared me, but they did not scare me. I thought about all the money I was paying to stay in this place, this place that I was quickly beginning to hate.
They continued to yell and pound on the door.
“Open the door, frosh Freak! Open it now! You’re going to be in so much trouble if you don’t open that door.”
What kind of trouble? They had no control over me. I was studying in my room. There was nothing wrong with what I was doing. I did not sign any document that agreed I would participate in these kinds of stupid activities. I resented their subversive use of my name. They wouldn’t dare outright call me a freak, that would be insulting and demeaning and would show their pettiness and lack of dignity. But they could call me a freak by using my last name this way, with “frosh” in front of it. Frosh Freak. It somehow gave them the propriety to use it. They must have known I couldn’t complain or make an issue about it, since it was my real name.
This struck me as surprising. I just then realized that, up until this time, I had never actually been called a freak before. I had been called many other things, but not a freak. Yes, it was my last name, and I was often referred to as Freak as it being my surname, but not actually called a freak. In some ways, I thought, I should give these senior girls more credit for their inventiveness. It was a much more intelligent and effective way of humiliating me than making me walk like a duck. However, it did not phase me. They did not know what life I had lived, what challenges I had faced, and how many times I had to put up with insensitive people. I was used to this kind of treatment and I would not cave in because of them.
“We’ll get you later, frosh Freak!” they yelled.
They finally left the hallway and took their little ducklings and sheep with them. After a while I went back to bed, but I heard them when they returned.
Once again, they pounded on my door and yelled, “Good night, frosh Freak! Just wait until tomorrow! We haven’t forgotten about you.”
I waited a while, and then I unlocked the door in case Penny needed to come in. I didn’t think they would bother me again.
The next morning, I got up, went to the bathroom and got dressed. Not one person spoke to me in the common area of the washroom, or as they passed me in the hallway. I noticed a big lump in Penny’s bed. She was swaddled in blankets with two pillows over her head, probably annoyed that I was up so early. I went down to the cafeteria, took a tray, put some cereal and milk in a bowl, and poured some juice. But I wasn’t very hungry.
I saw a group of girls sitting together at a table. I recognized a couple of them from my floor, though I didn’t know their names yet. I went to their table, sat down, and said, “Good morning.”
Without a word, they all stood up in precise unison, and like a marching band, lifted their trays and moved to a table far away. I was left sitting alone.
“Good morning and welcome to Delaware Hall, frosh Freak!” I thought sarcastically to myself.
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