Oh grade seven. How the years have flew by but the memories stay forever.
It was one of the most memorable school years’ that I have ever experienced. Our grade seven teacher, Mr. Williamson always knew how to deliver an amusing and memorable time with his classes. He had essentially created this imaginary world called “WillVille”, in which he was the president and we as a class were the citizens of his fantasy.
Basically, in WillVille everyone was assigned a specific job that they needed to perform accordingly, so that they can earn WillBills ( his version of currency), which could further be used to obtain prizes and other advantages.
Pragya and I were appointed the position to be his personal assistants for that whole year. We undertook responsibilities such as simply organizing his documents to printing and cutting out his “new and improved” WillBills that had his face and slogan plastered onto them. Most days we carried out these tasks efficiently and effectively, but one day, not so much.
Once, we were assigned a task to count and check off the names of the students who have written their math unit test during our library period. Another one of my friends also joined in to help us. Not that difficult nor skill- demanding of a task right? But of course we had took that as a challenge that we didn’t even know we were capable of doing.
As we were doing our work, all was going well, and we had finally finished going through everyones test. One of us had placed the pile of tests on top of the vent that was in the corner of the room. As we were collecting them, 3 of the tests slipped into one of the narrow gaps of the vent. It happened so fast for any of us to even react in time. No one surely knows who had placed the pile of tests on top of the vent, and still to this day we fight about it, blaming one another.
We immediately all panicked, as the bell had already rung for the start of second period. Pragya was the one who had to endure the painfully awkward phone call with our English teacher, who we had next. It went something like, “Hi, so we’re gonna be late because we’re trying to get a few tests out of the vent.” Our teacher didn’t ask any further questions, as she was very confused herself. All she could bare to say was, “um okay?”
With the help of the librarian we ended up removing the vent itself. Our first method was to simply try to reach as far down as we possibly could, but it was untouchable. Then our librarian suggested situating a bundle of tape on to the edge of a ruler, and carefully lifting out the tests out one by one. We had managed to get one test out! The other two were impossible to even touch, and had reached the depths of the ventilation system. So far down that we couldn’t even see them.
At this point, we just gave up. It was hopeless. We never looked back, and were ready to face the wrath of our seventh grade teacher. I’ll never forget the comical yet embarrassing walk of shame back to Mr.Williamson’s classroom to face our fate as we already knew it coming.
The conversation with the teacher was interesting. My friend kept hiccupping in his face as she was trying to explain what was happening, which of course made us laugh even harder, not helping the present situation we were in. He was really disappointed… but at least we got to keep our jobs.