New Upper Digs Tunnel 6 Feet Underground to Socially Distance
By Jack Archer
As October rolls around, upperclassmen begin to navigate Exeter’s new way of life in the first weeks of school. Many are discovering strange strategies that help them cope, as well as unlikely locations which provide a moment’s calm and a couple seconds to peel off a sweaty face mask and rub the unrelenting acne beneath it. Some of these strategies are stranger than others, and one place in particular didn’t exist last school year.
New upper Mol Ratte has found a novel way to get around the school. On his forays through campus, whether it be a journey to D-hall for a vegetarian snack (Mol actually refers to himself as a herbivore) or to South Side for a walk in the woods, not once does he break social distancing protocol. He has yet to meet another soul venturing down the paths he frequents. Never does he have to make an awkward hop onto the grass to stay six feet away from someone going in the opposite direction. Mol has yet to lose his way and meet the same fate as so many new uppers before him: having to double back. Mol knows his way around his paths—as he should—because he made them.
Since the start of school, Ratte has been burrowing six feet under the ground, digging an intricate tunnel system under Exeter’s campus that can take him anywhere he needs to be.
When he descends into his subterranean highway, Mol is always six feet away from everyone, and with no one in sight, a mask isn’t necessary. Armed with his trusty industrial shovel, no spot on campus is unreachable, as long as he has a couple hours to get there.
Students in Ratte’s dorm expressed feelings of confusion and reverence toward their peer. “Mol’s chill, but he kinda scares me,” said one upper with a look of consternation on their face. “That kid built an entire tunnel system under campus in, like, a WEEK.”
When questioned about his unusual method of transportation, Mol smiles and shrugs. “Digging is almost a family tradition,” he said. “My dads and brothers do it all the time, but Mom was never into it.”
Mol certainly doesn’t look like a champion excavator. He’s on the shorter side, but somehow looks lanky. A copious amount of hair obscures his ears. His only distinctive quality is a cheery buck-toothed grin.
Some of Mol’s peers have stronger feelings regarding him. “If I’m being honest with you, I’m scared of that kid,” a prep said, quietly. “I eat with him a lot, and I’ve NEVER seen him drink water. He just eats like seven plates of vegetables. I think he might be a little deaf, but he swears he has the best hearing in his family. If you get a chance, watch him carry his shovel. He holds up upside down! I’d bet my lanyard that kid doesn’t dig with the shovel. I think he might use his—oh, hey Mo, what’s up!”
According to Ratte, the process of creating his paths has had its challenges. “The other day, I was minding my own business, digging a new tunnel, and then I ran straight into a dead body. Those markers they put on trees? They’re not markers. Turns out they’re headstones. I might be the only one on campus who knows what John M. Stone ‘82 looks like,” he shuddered.
“My biggest disaster happened on the first day of classes,” he added. “When I was clearing out a tunnel under D-Hall, I wasn’t paying attention and cracked open a huge pipe. I didn’t get a chance to read its label clearly, but I’m pretty sure it said ‘Water Main’ or something. Anyway, water spills into my tunnel, flooding it completely! Man, that was annoying. I had to dig a whole reservoir to hold all that water, which is probably still under Elm Street. It was lucky I was right under D-Hall though, cause I was able to head up there and grab a nice glass of Tropicana Orange Juice.”