Exam Aggravations
Saturday, October 30, 2004
The morning before All Hollow’s Eve dawned warm and red. A whisper of ghostlings was in the wind, and Collette smiled at the thought of their pirate flag billowing in the ‘swashbuckling’ winds from the balcony the next day.
At the moment, following milk and cornbread, she and OLeif would be headed soon to Manchester where she would take yet another exam for her degree, (via independent study). Abnormal psychology was its subject, and while interesting, Collette would be happy to be done with it and move on to the next one.
As for the remainder of the day, they would return to St. Charles to rummage through an antique mall for Mom’s birthday. Maybe a porcelain piece painted with roses or a vintage advertising relic for the kitchen.
Outside, the winds were tossing the sun around, all in good fun, back and forth in the blue. And soon the day would reach noon. She glanced at the black train depot clock hanging near the wall. Forty-five minutes she thought to herself. Perhaps a little cleaning… No, I’ll just review these questions once more before going out there. It couldn’t hurt. Sitting down in front of the computer, she saw her tour view book lying on the floor next to her. She picked it up and glanced at the colorful, fun pictures of other worlds. And a happy smile crossed her face, knowing that it all awaited her some day. If not in reality, then in her thoughts…
Some hours later, OLeif and Collette returned. Collette’s head ached once again, and as she pulled out her ponytail, the disappointment of failing her exam brought frustration over her once more. There was nothing she could do now, of course, but she had already mapped out another plan on the return home. She sat down with a glass of ginger ale as OLeif hurried about getting ready to leave for his photo shoot.
“What are you doing?” He called from the other room as he filled the clothes iron with water.
He adjusted the ironing board for the brown shepherd-like cloth he would be using as a backdrop for the shoot.
“Oh, nothing,” she replied.
“Are you OK?”
“Mmm hmm.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah.”
“Did you find your stuff?”
“No..”
Her sinus medicine was lost, likely fallen under the couch or hidden in a stack of papers. The disappointment of failing exams was always daunting. It was sometimes a frustrating reality that she had still not found her niche – what she wanted to do in life, her goals and dreams. Failing an exam certainly encouraged further doubt. But there was always tomorrow and time before Christmas to finish what she had started.
Joe had dropped by moments earlier for a bottle-refill. He biked everywhere, all over the city. Collette always saw him as being in the Tour de France, perhaps the Olympics, one day in the near future. It was his passion. Besides, he was a great guy all around, one of the kindest she knew. And because of it, she wished all the more that he would have success in his dreams.
Life was good. God was in Heaven, and all was right with the world. Disappointments would come and go, but all was still well and would go on as usual.
Collette stood up to pour another glass of ginger ale and relax a spell on the couch. OLeif would soon leave for a short while, and then there was the cool evening to look forward to, as it already drifted in on the setting blue. October days were leaving and winter was coming, but not before the ghouls and pirates of the following night. And Diana could not meet that evening after all, as her nana was in from Colorado. However, the next weekend would surely bring more activities.
Collette walked out to the dining room table to examine the birthday present she and OLeif had found for her mom. They had stopped by the antique store on the way back home where Collette had seen among the pewter, lace, and porcelain whimsies, a plate imprinted with a Norman Rockwell painting entitled, “Father’s Help”, a Victorian setting, where ‘mother’, knitting, was accompanied by ‘father’ and ‘son’ who were looking over homework in the lamplight of the parlor. And a cat, peculiarly resembling Snuggles, the actual family cat, lay cuddled on the cushion by the knitting. While hardly an antique, having been printed as part of a limited edition collection in 1983, Collette decided it suited, and they purchased it. Before leaving, Collette noticed a piece of furniture, a small chest of drawers, wisped with dark powder blue paint and roughly, unevenly sanded. It had the charming effect of an old sailor’s piece – what one might have seen in the lighthouse of the eighteen hundreds, wind-worn, sand-worn.
Collette woke several hours later, realizing she had mistakenly fallen asleep after OLeif had gone. He was still out and the world seemed relatively quiet. She thought, perhaps, that she might wrap Mom’s birthday present, but saw that there was no festive tissue left. There was little to eat anywhere, as a return to the grocery store was soon in order, and so she settled down to watch the old Saturday night movies on television.
She soon grew restless, however, recalling the failure of her exam and the next six weeks of intensive study which she had just cooked up for herself. It seemed to be a bit of a lonely study schedule. However, it had already been prescribed, and she would certainly hold to it, like it or not.
She thought about the coming day, an early one. OLeif would play violin during the morning Reformation service. They both, along with Joe and Rose, would sing in the choir (starched cream robes with silk red stoles in all festiveness). And following, would be deacon nominations and the pastoral vote, of which OLeif could not participate on account of not having transfered his church membership by that date. Then it would be lunch at some place, either at the Snicketts’ or the Silverspoon’s. And as dark would come, the children would deck themselves out in costume and hit the neighborhoods in search of sugar and chocolate delights.
Collette tucked her orange blanket around herself against the cool and waited a spell longer, wondering on things which come after one wakes from an evening nap.
She didn’t like the thought of another two chunky texts waiting for her come Monday on the coffee table, of the rise and fall of the Soviet Union. Well, she thought, that’s what one gets for failing an exam they should have passed.
She sighed a long sigh and stared ahead of herself, wondering what sort of plans she should make for the coming year. Already she had written a list of things she would like to do, such as study languages, work toward her masters, and put together scrapbooks of their honeymoon to the Caribbean and the family’s vacation to Maine. There were certain things she’d like to make and try, but she had no real ambitions ahead of her. That had always been the trouble before, in high school, when she couldn’t decide where to go or what to do in college. And now she had nearly completed her degree, despite the many frustrations, and had no idea about what to do with it next.