I wrote this story for my school’s paper while I was on the journalism staff. Our science teacher had unique hall passes he let his students use when they needed to run to the bathroom or to their lockers — squeaky pet toys. Our teacher would make jokes about how they had personalities, and a feature story was born. As a high school student, this was one of my favorite articles published in the Press.
Original article on page three: April 2012 Newspaper
Diary of a “Hall Pass”
Daily adventures with my friend Ralph
dictated by Harry the Hall Pass, written by Jenneth Dyck, freshman
Another day on my cozy desk, settled comfortably next to a wall of ungraded papers that smell of ink and sweaty, nervous hands, and beside me is my best friend, always looking at the crowd before him, slightly cross-eyed.
Not to blame my friend Ralph, of course. I find myself doing it quite often. Looking at that huge crowd that always sits in the room can be quite intimidating. Mr. Niggl calls it “his class,” but I don’t see much class about it. It’s always very noisy, and some of the “students,” as they’re also called, do the oddest things.
My friend Ralph, the bloat fish, has never really been the same after the first week of school. One day, a student picked him up and took him straight out of the room, and our friend Mr. Niggl did nothing to stop him!
For several long minutes I waited in terror, wondering what happened to poor Ralph, and if I would ever see him again. As he was carried off, the look of utter fear was in his crossed eyes. His puffed up face looked like a tick ready to pop, and the picture stuck in my mind, repeating its dreadful self over and over again, until Ralph and his kidnapper returned.
There was a shocked look on my friend’s puffy face, and I tried to get him to tell me what had happened beyond that door, but he was too stunned to speak and has never talked much since.
Later that week, I put two and two together when I recognized a word spoken by the class. I discovered that it was the same word written on Ralph’s back.
“Ralph the Restroom Pass,” it said.
With profound interest, I listened every time for the words “Restroom Pass” until I was sure it had to do with Ralph’s frequent disappearances. Each time he returned even more mute than before.
Luckily though, I was able to convince Ralph to read the mysterious inscription on my own back and was baffled at the meaning when he finally complied:
“Harry the Hall Pass.”
I contemplated its meaning, easily guessing that, I too, would disappear, just like Ralph, but what did “Hall Pass” mean? Could it possibly be my ticket to that horrible place Ralph experienced on a daily basis? What was this “Hall” the prophecy spoke of? Where was I destined to go with one of Mr. Niggl’s students? And the most terrifying question of all: Would I end up mute and stunned beyond comprehension like my friend Ralph? I soon found out.
“Mr. Niggl,” a certain student asked, “may I go get a book from my locker?”
“Take Harry,” Mr. Niggl said, gesturing to my unsuspecting form.
Jumping at my name, I could hardly speculate what this “book from my locker” meant, but it didn’t matter now because that same kid was coming straight towards me, just like the others did to Ralph!
I held my breath tight as I was clenched in a suffocating, sweaty hand that immediately pressed all the oxygen out of me, making my body collapse and give a small hissing sound as that precious air escaped from me.
Then the student took me through the mysterious door and out into the world beyond, which I presumed was the “Hall” they spoke of. This student’s way of travel was sickening as I bounced up and down in perfect timing with his stride. Around the bend was a long, skinny room lined with grayish metal boxes. He pulled a rather large, flat object from one of them and turned right back the way we came.
When I was forcibly returned to the desk, I found myself sitting next to Ralph, who was still not speaking. I wondered what was so terrifying about that little excursion outside of the classroom. Other than being squished beyond belief in that sweaty hand, it was almost fun!
However, I soon learned that “Restroom Pass” and “Hall Pass” did not mean the same thing. Sometimes, the students were so active, two of them had to go to this “restroom” at the same time. That’s when I discovered Ralph’s shock.
When we went in, well, I’ll just say I understand why Ralph will never be the same again. It was just too much for the poor bloat fish.
Concerned, I’ve talked to Mr. Niggl privately, and he said Ralph would be better in time. He said something about it being “nothing a good summer wouldn’t fix.” This relieved me greatly, and I told Ralph the news. Since then, I’ve often seen him staring intently at the pad of paper behind Mr. Niggl, known as the calendar.
Knowing Ralph would recover, I’ve learned to enjoy my expeditions in the Hall. I’ve been all over the place, and I’ve even met the pink flamingo in the “office,” as people call it, who has a key permanently attached to him and goes by the name of George.
Ralph became more talkative as this promised summer came closer, and he even told me about a few of his adventures to the restroom. But several weeks ago, Ralph was put back on Mr. Niggl’s desk, and both Mr. Niggl and I knew something was very wrong; Ralph wasn’t breathing. He was bloated more than normal too, which really upset me. Mr. Niggl discovered the problem and began working quickly to revive the bloat fish.
“Ralph was nearly drowned. Someone took him to the restroom and filled him with water,” he explained to his 9th grade class and me. “So Ralph had a near-death experience.” He gave the bloat fish a few good squeezes to let out some more water.
“CPR!” a student shouted jokingly, but I didn’t find it funny at all. My friend nearly died in that room of death they so lightly referred to as the restroom!
What’s always comforting to know, though, is that Mr. Niggl is always watching out for us. He makes sure we’re always back in our special spots at the front of his desk at the end of the day, safe and sound; and if we’re drowning, he’ll help us right away. That, and the knowledge of summer, is what keeps Ralph and me going.