Chapter 41: The Honeymoon is Over

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Freak? What Freak?!

My fairy tale wedding and honeymoon, those three wonderful weeks in the springtime of 1970 in Germany, was truly the greatest experience of my life, and a dream come true. I returned to Canada and London full of love and warmth, and energized for the days and years to come. I was ready to tackle the world, and make my other dreams become reality.

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If Norma’s plan was to get under my skin and make me feel bad, it was working. I was getting upset.

When I was taking the bus home, I did something that shocked me. I pulled the cord to ring the bell, to get the bus to make a stop. But it was not my stop. This was a silly mistake, I had never done this before. Then I did it again. What was wrong with me? Other riders looked at me as if I were a fool. Why is this girl making the bus stop so many times, for no reason. Does she even know where she is going?

My mind was in turmoil, my stomach was churning. Norma had gotten to me, she had broken my happiness. I decided that I hated this job and I couldn’t see that I would be able to spend the entire summer working there and be happy.

I told Roland about my work situation, he didn’t like the way I was being treated. “It’s just a summer job,” he said. “You shouldn’t be expected to work after hours when you can do that work during the day when you are there.” He was right. I knew Norma was doing it as some sort of punishment. She could now claim that I was reluctant to do any extra work. I couldn’t believe how much my life had changed in a month. No wonder I loved Germany. It was an escape from these people who put me down, made fun of me, shamed me and bullied me. Norma was just another bully. I wondered again if she was jealous of me. Everything seemed to change after she saw my happy wedding photos. Roland told me I should quit, but I was not a quitter. That would not look good if word got around to my secretarial science professors that I had quit this job they had graciously found for me. It would be different if this was an office somewhere else, but whatever happened would be known to others. Plus, quitting would not look good on my resumé. I needed work experience.

Finally, it was the Friday before the Canada Day long weekend, when Roland and I were planning to visit my brother Doug at his cottage on Georgian Bay. I worked at my desk in the morning, then went for lunch at noon. I decided to buy a sandwich and eat in the cafeteria as a Friday treat. Then I noticed Mr. Clark walking towards me. What could he want? I hoped he wasn’t planning to ask me to work overtime again, not on a Friday night. Maybe he wanted me to work over the weekend. The international program for the students would be starting next week, I knew there was lots of work to do and the pressure was on. So I was now squirming a little because I wouldn’t want to refuse him when they might need me the most. He sat on a chair across from me, but he didn’t have any food with him. I put my sandwich down and said hello. He got right to the point.

“I’m sorry, but we’re letting you go,” Mr Clark said, with little expression on his face. “This will be your last day of work here.” I found it difficult to swallow the food I still had in my mouth. “You will be getting one week of paid wages, so I hope that is alright.” More than generous, I thought. “Goodbye and good luck.” He got up and left. I was trembling. I had never been fired from a job before, and this was an especially prestigious one, working in an elite office at an elite university. It was the first job I had since leaving Dryden, other than sorting mail at the post office, and I was a huge failure. I had no more appetite.

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It had been a struggle for me not to cry all afternoon. I just tried to concentrate on my work and not feel sorry for myself. I got to the stairway and was about to step down, when the tears started to flow. I had to stop for a second to wipe them off so I could see the steps and not fall down. Norma came rushing out of the office and asked me for my keys. I had forgotten about them, as I had never actually needed to use them. I found them quickly and handed them to her. I was sure she saw the tears flowing down my cheeks, but she rushed away as fast as she came, without saying another word. She must have felt very pleased with herself. She had bullied me right out of a job. There was no doubt in my mind that she had orchestrated this whole thing. She had made the job impossible for me, shown our boss that I wasn’t willing to work after hours, so she could easily make a case for my firing. She was a superwoman, she could do it all. I was sure they applauded her at every chance.

I made my way to the bus stop and then I broke out sobbing, almost uncontrollably. A woman was standing next to me. She kept glancing over, so I tried to hold back my tears, but I couldn’t stop. I knew I was embarrassing myself but I couldn’t help it. Finally, she said to me, “I’m so sorry. Did someone die?” I just shook my head and said I would be alright. This stranger’s concern made me feel even worse.

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