Aaron’s Summer of ’77 Ch. 06


Chapter 6 – August 22nd

August 22nd arrives and I am waiting at the Voyageur Colonial bus stop on Perth Street in Brockville for the morning bus to take me up to Ottawa for my orientation interview with Camilla Mezaros. Adam has to work today and my Dad as well. So, I am on my own to make this trip to finalize all my courses and pay final tuition for commencement of classes on September 12th. The bus is twenty minutes late and I am starting to worry, because my appointment is scheduled for right after lunch.

Finally, the bus pulls up in front of the station and I hear on the loud speaker, “Voyageur Colonial bus 3 with stops in Maitland, Prescott, Spencerville, Kemptville, North Gower and Ottawa is now ready for boarding. Have your tickets ready and luggage for loading please. And ‘thank you’ for travelling Voyageur this morning!”

“Just great! A milk run. This will take at least 2 ½ hours to make it up to the Campus at this rate!” I say to myself.

There is a twenty minute layover in Prescott, which adds to the time delay. “Nothing I can do about that now!” I think to myself. Luckily, the stops are quick enroute, with very few people boarding or getting off. So the bus arrives at the Catherine Street station just before noon hour.

I know I am close to my apartment and the Campus. So before leaving the station, I call the rental agent to pick up the key to the place on Argyle Street after my interview and then start to walk over to Algonquin to meet Camilla. “So glad that Adam made sure I knew my way around when he brought me up here. I really wish he could have come with me today,” I think to myself.

With the free time I have before my interview, I take the time to walk through the Design Wing of the Campus to check out the classrooms, labs, library and cafeteria. There are six classrooms with divider partitions to close them off and make them smaller when needed. I can see some three-dimensional models and sample boards, renderings and drafting plans and details on the tables and walls from previous students, I am assuming. There are long rows of tables placed length-wise throughout each classroom with drafting surfaces on top of them and stools that look like Chinese torture devices in front of each spot. There are huge windows along the exterior walls that flood each room with natural daylight.

I was told that typically in the first semester, there are between twenty to twenty-five students accepted for the Interior Design program. There is an English Program and a French Program that are completely separate, with different rooms and Professors and Instructors. The drop-out rate is high in the first and second semesters. Usually by second year, the class size shrinks down to fifteen students. And by third year and graduation, there are only six to eight students left to move on and enter the work force. Most of these students wind up working for the Federal Government, doing office planning and design for government buildings in the National Capital Region. A select few are lucky enough to land jobs in Toronto or outside of Canada and really get to experience the whole spectrum of Interior Design and stretch their creative wings with challenging and rewarding careers.

“So you are Aaron Christie,” says Camilla Mezaros, as I sit waiting outside her office for my orientation interview. “Come in and show me your portfolio.”

I am nervous and can’t help but stare at her as I follow her in and sit down before her imposing desk. She has, what looks to be a synthetic platinum blonde wig on and I swear it is backwards on her head! It looks bizarre, as I estimate she must be at least sixty years old. “That damned, stupid wig would likely spontaneously combust if she came into contact with any open flame!” I think to myself. She is wearing a huge red velvet bowtie, that I later discovered was nicknamed Camilla’s ‘lips’ by students already in the program. She is wearing a tight, ill-fitting, grey double-breasted pantsuit that makes her boobs look like they’re ready to burst out of it at any moment. To top everything off, she is wearing these oversized coke bottle lense, pale blue, plastic-framed glasses with rhinestones embedded into them that effectively block any direct eye contact and that completely distract me. She looks like a weird cross between Carol Channing and Phyllis Diller! I open my portfolio binder and start to show her some of my work.

She is completely uninterested in what I have to show her and then blurts out, “Just how old are you?”

” ‘Ummm’, I’ll be twenty this December,” I reply.

“No one coming from high school directly into this program ‘ever’ makes it through to the end. There are thirty-five hours of class time and at least the same number of hours required to complete the assignments every week. Most students quit during the first semester. What makes you think ‘you’ can make it?” she asks and stares at me.

” ‘Ummm,’ well…Ms. Mezaros, I always wanted to be an Architect and when I started working for my brother-in-law back in Brockville in his paint and wallpaper demetevler escort store, I found that I liked meeting people and they seemed to like what I recommended to them. I studied the course outline for this program, and an Instructor I knew from some sales courses I was taking at St. Lawrence College back in Brockville suggested I apply for enrollment.

“Who was ‘this’ Instructor?” she asks.

“Isobel Szabo. She taught Professional Salesmanship courses part-time at St. Lawrence College,” I reply.

“Szabo … that’s Hungarian…just like me,” says Camilla.

The rest of the interview passes with Camilla Mezaros telling me her entire life story. She used to be an aeronautical engineer who worked on drafting and design of weapons and armaments during World War Two, and after the Communist takeover of her country, escaped to Canada with her son and eventually wound up as the Department Head of Design at Algonquin College.

The interview told me everything I never needed to know about her and nothing about the program I was about to enter. By the end of it, I was sitting there and asking myself, “Just what the hell have you gotten yourself into here, Aaron?”

At the end of the interview, Camilla stops talking about herself and looks me straight in the eye and says, “You are a very meek and quiet young man. You know you will really have to get your ‘wire’ up if you want to survive in this program.” When she said the word ‘wire’, she pointed directly at my crotch and cock and my mouth fell open in complete shock and embarrassment.

I couldn’t get out of her office fast enough, after that outrageous remark from her.

“Classes start at 8:30am on September 12th and if you are late or miss more than three consecutive classes in any one semester, you’ll get a failing grade for that course and will have to repeat it the next year. You have six full-time courses to get through before the first semester finishes at the end of November. Interior Design One, History of Design, Colour Theory, Design Basics, Building Construction and Basic Drafting. You will have me for Interior Design One. Alan Farside will teach you Building Construction. Elizabeth Mountebank will teach you Colour Theory and Design Basics. Lynda Birdsong will teach you History of Design and Gordon Goodenrich will teach you Basic Drafting.”

I walk out of her office in a complete daze and really wish I’d had either Adam or my Dad with me to make some sense of what just happened to me in her office.

“Thanks for meeting me to drop off the key, Jennifer. I just finished over at Algonquin and it looks like I’m going to have a pretty full itinerary and workload for courses for my first semester,” I say to the rental agent, as I stand with her on the front porch of the apartment building on Argyle.

“You look like you need a boost of confidence from someone, Aaron. I’m sure you’ll do just fine, once you get settled in and into the routine of classes and studies,” she says to me. “Good luck, Aaron. If I can answer any questions you have with respect to the apartment or any problems you might have, here is my card and phone number. Don’t hesitate to call me any time. And I mean it, ‘good luck’ again to you!”

There is a hardware store about six blocks down on Elgin Street. “I better get keys made for Mom and Dad and Adam while I’m here,” I say to myself. After I do that and start walking back down Elgin Street, I look at my watch and realize it is past three o’clock. “Time for something to eat and then to catch the bus back to Brockville for 5:30pm,” I think to myself.

My Dad always told me to order either bacon and eggs or club sandwiches whenever I was in a strange town or city, because it was practically impossible for anyone to mess them up. So I play it safe and head over to the bus stop where they have a restaurant and order a club sandwich. My mind is still reeling from the bizarre interview that really was a diatribe on the life and history of Camilla Mezaros! “Jeez! I sure hope the rest of the Profs are not as weird as she is!” I say to myself.

Luckily, the bus leaves right on schedule from the Catherine Street station and I can now just sit back and stare out the window and try to forget that stupid ‘wire’ reference and negative crack and assumption about my age from that crazy lady, Mezaros.

Adam is waiting or me in the waiting room of the bus stop when the bus gets back to Brockville just after 8:00pm.

“What are you doing here? I thought you had to work late this evening, Adam.”

“Figured you’d like to see my smiling face waitin’ for ya’ when you hopped off the bus there, cookie! Are ya, not happy to see me?”

“God, yes, am I ever!” I say to him.

“Well…c’mon then. I’ll take ya’ for an ice cream cone at Smith’s Dairy, after ya’ drop your stuff off at your Mom and Dad’s.”

We hop into Adam’s old car and he starts to ask me questions as we head over to Bethune Street.

” ‘Sooo’, talk to me, Aaron. How did things go at Algonquin, cookie?”

“It otele gelen escort was weird, Adam. That Mezaros woman is really strange. How she ever got to be an Interior Designer is something I can’t even begin to understand! She’s got this really stupid way of saying ‘izzzn’t it?’ after everything she says. She could be telling someone she has to go to the bathroom and she’d wind up ending her sentence with the words ‘izzzn’t it?'”

Adam starts to laugh and says to me, “Is ‘that’ the ‘only’ thing you remember from your interview with her, cookie?”

“Nope. I’m not done, Adam. She spent most of the interview talking about herself and couldn’t have cared less about my portfolio. All she seemed to care about was the cheque for the college fees. And, she kept telling me that students as young as me ‘never’ made it to the end of the program! Then she made this stupid comment about me being meek and having to get my ‘wire’ up in order to make it! And get this Adam…she was pointing to my cock when she said that too!”

“Hah…hah…hah…hah! Cookie, your ‘wire’ never has a problem ‘cumming’ up for me, baby! I wouldn’t be too upset about what she said though, babe. Sounds like she was tryin’ to psych’ ya’ up to expect a lot of work and she maybe might have a point about how young you are. You’re gonna’ do just fine, baby…’izzzn’t it’?” he says and bursts out laughing. Now drop your stuff off and tell your parents you’ll be back in an hour or so.”

“If you say so, Adam…’izzzn’t it’, wookiee?” I say.


“Hi Dad! Adam met me at the bus station and gave me a ride home. I’m going to just drop off my portfolio here for now and go and have an ice cream with him. Are you going to be here when I get back?”

“Yes, son. I have to take your Mom in to work for midnight, so I’ll want to hear all about Algonquin and how you got along when you come back.”

Adam drives over to Blockhouse Island, once we get our ice cream and says to me on the way, “Lets get out and walk to the end of the pier where the lighthouse beacon is. It’s a nice night and we can sit there and watch the lights on the other side of the river in upstate New York and see if any Canada Steamship Line ships go by in the main channel.

We have to pass by the World War Two Spitfire plane that’s mounted up on a concrete pier, in memory of the fallen soldiers and veterans of World War Two, on our way to the beacon, “That Mezaros woman told me she was an aeronautical engineer in Hungary during the war and that she had to emigrate to Canada when the Allies Forces claimed peace, Adam,” I say to him.

” ‘Hmmm’, Hungary you say, cookie? She was probably a ‘Nazi Sympathiser’ during the war and worked for either Hitler or Stalin, most likely. Lotsa’ those people wound up in Canada in the ‘fifties. Then again, she could have just been tryin’ to escape the Communists at the time.”

“You really know history, don’t you Adam?”

“Just one of the interests I have there, cookie!” he replies.

“Here Adam. I had a key made for you for my place on Argyle. You can put it on your Superman key ring!”

“Thanks, baby,” he says, as he stares at the key with a sad, lost look on his face. “Guess this is really startin’ to happen now, cookie. So when are ya’ thinkin’ of movin’ your stuff up to Ottawa?”

“Dad said he could move me up right after Labor Day. He has a trailer hitch on the car and there won’t be much to take up, outside of my clothes, books and records. Mom said I could take my grandmother’s desk and the armoire in my room. I have to get a new bed and I’ll need to buy a drafting board and stool and then I should be pretty well all set up.”

“You don’t want…or won’t need me helpin’ ya’ then, Aron when you move?” says Adam, with a disappointed look on his face.

“Well of course I do! I already told Dad you wanted to help, and he said, “Thank God he offered, because I was going to ask him to help, otherwise. I think he’d adopt you, if he could Adam! I told you he was a nice man.”

Adam smiles finally and says quietly to me, “Ya’ know, cookie…you’re a lucky kid. I hope you know that, baby.”

When Adam dropped me off, I head in the front door and Dad is in the living room, waiting to talk with me.

“So how did you make out with Camilla Mezaros at Algonquin, Aaron? Did she look at your portfolio and did she have many questions for you?”

” ‘Ummm’…well, Dad, she seemed to want to tell me more about herself and didn’t care so much about what I wanted to show her. She kept coming back to asking me how old I was and telling me that most kids my age never lasted to graduate until the end of the program. She kind of scared me a bit.”

“Sounds like she was trying to intimidate you in to either ‘not’ enrolling or to standing up to her. What did you say to her?”

“Well, Dad…I didn’t want to say too much back to her, honestly. I figured, since I was already accepted into the program, that she could say whatever she liked. balgat escort I’m going into this because I want to. And after talking to her, I figured if ‘she’ can make a career out of this, then I should be able to as well.”

“Well… the final cheque for enrollment sure went though fast enough! She must have ran to the bank to cash it, Aaron. You’ll come to understand Aaron, that what people think of you and say about you shouldn’t matter a damn, once you’ve set your mind to something. Your Mother and I have faith in you and know you are going to do well, once you get into the routine of the program.”

“Oh Dad…here. I had keys made up for you and Mom for my place on Argyle. Adam was asking me about when to move my stuff up, just now. He’ll need to know, in case he has to book time off to help us. I was thinking maybe the Tuesday right after Labor Day, September 6th. Will you be able to take the time off that day, Dad? I really want you to see where I’m going to be living. Does Mom want to come too?”

“I don’t think your Mother will come, Aaron. You know she’s going to miss you and seeing where you’re going to be living might not help with that, right at the moment. I’m sure we can always take a drive up sometime to have a look at your place together, once she gets used to the fact that you’re not going to be living at home anymore,” my Dad says. “You know, Aaron…we’re both going to miss you very much.”

“I’m going to miss you both too, Dad. And, Dad…thanks for everything.”

“Labor Day’s coming up real fast, cookie! Can we do something together before I hafta’ move ya’ up to Ottawa, baby?”

“Sure, Adam… what would you like to do?”

“Well, baby…it’s been a fast summer and I haven’t been out camping at all or out of town, except for takin’ you up to Ottawa. I’m not complaining though. How’s about I pull out the tent from my Mom’s garage and you and I can maybe spend the weekend together out at Brown’s Bay? We can swim and cook outside and have a fire in the evening and get nice and cozy together in a sleeping bag under the stars. Whatdaya’ think, cookie?

“You like to camp, Adam? ‘Jeez’, there is still a lot I don’t know about you. Sure, that sounds like fun, actually!”

“Oh, and cookie, your driving test with the Department of Motor Vehicles is just before Labor Day, right?”

“Yeah, it is Adam.”

“OK then, baby. Every day between now and then, I’m takin’ ya’ out for a driving lesson. My car’s been actin’ up again. But, I think as long as we stick close to town and don’t get too aggressive with it, then the fuckin’ shitbox shouldn’t give me too much of a hard time.”

“I’ve been thinking about that first time you picked me up in it, Adam. You were wearing that sexy grey suit of yours when it broke down and then you let me give you a hand job and suck your big, hairy cock and that’s when we first started to be together. Do you think maybe we could ‘pretend’ to do that all over again tonight when you get off work?”

Three seconds of profound shock on Adam’s face and then he grabs me and thrusts his tongue into my mouth.

“Fuckin’ fuck, baby…I sure am gonna’ miss ya’ when you’re up in Ottawa, cookie! Tell ya’ what. Am not too thrilled about the ‘breaking down’ part with my Bonneville, babe … but I hafta’ admit, it sounds kinda’ hot and kinky that you wanna’ do that with me again! I hafta’ work til midnight tonight and close up the store. You wanna’ have me drive by and pick you up again on King and Perth Street and maybe head out to the Lyn Pit, baby?

“Wear that suit please and go commando, Adam.”

“You got it, cookie! You are one kinky little fucker at times, aren’t ya’?”

“Only when I’m with you, Adam,” I say, giving him a wink and then a little love bite to his ear lobe.

It’s two minutes after midnight and I’m watching the parking lot behind Fullerton’s to see when Adam close up the store. He shuts it up and the light above the back door turns off. He walks over to his old car and then hops into it. “He’s right, it isn’t running very well again,” I say to myself, as he swears at it to turn over for him. Finally it stumbles and hesitates and comes to life and he puts it into ‘reverse’ and then pulls out, on his way down to King and Perth. I know he’s going to be waiting for me to make my way down there. He’ll probably be sitting in his car, idling away in the parking lot behind Howison’s and wondering where I am. “Let him wait. It will only add to the suspense!” I think to myself.

By the time I make it down the six blocks to King and Perth, he’s had the chance to pull his old car into the parking lot. He seems to be getting into this ‘role play situation’ pretty well, because he’s got the hood of his car jacked up and he is sitting sideways, facing out onto the street in his driver’s seat with the door wide open. His legs are spread wide apart and when he sees me, he starts to rub his hard-on, straining the crotch of his grey pants and gives me one burning, lascivious leer and then motions for me to walk over toward him.

“You’ve been staring at me in the store, kid and my ‘stick shift’ gets hard on me every time it sees ya’ lookin’ at it. My big, hairy cock needs someone to suck it tonight, kid. I just got my shitbox car runnin’ again here. So how’s about I get out and slam down the hood and you hop in and let me ram my big ‘man shaft’ into your mouth for the next hour or so? Whatdaya’ say, kid?”

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