Dead Poets Society

Please... ?”
    “All right! I’m thinking!” He paused for a moment, then recited:

    “Let me not to the marriage of true minds
    Admit impediments. Love is not love
    Which alters when it alteration finds,
    Or bends with the remover to remove.”

    Gloria moaned with satisfaction. “Don’t stop!” Charlie continued to recite as Gloria’s moans grew louder.

    “O, no, it is an ever-fixéd mark
    That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
    It is the star to every wandering bark,
    Whose worth’s unknown, although his height be taken...”

    “This is better than sex any day,” Gloria cried. “This is ROMANCE!”
    Charlie’s eyes rolled in frustration, but he continued to recite poems well into the night.

    The next day, the entire student body was summoned to the Welton Academy Chapel. A buzz droned among the boys as they moved into their seats, passing copies of school newspapers among themselves.
    Knox Overstreet sat down trying to hide his bruised and swollen face. Neil, Todd, Pitts, Meeks, Cameron, and especially Charlie wore faces drawn with exhaustion. Pitts stifled a yawn as he handed Charlie a briefcase.
    “All set,” Pitts whispered. Charlie nodded.
    Dean Nolan entered the chapel as the students quickly put away all the newspapers and stood. Nolan took long strides to the podium and motioned for the boys to sit down. He cleared his throat loudly.
    “In this week’s issue of WELTON HONORS there appeared an unauthorized and profane article about the need for girls at Welton. Rather than spend my valuable time ferreting out the guilty parties—and let me assure you I will find them—I am asking any and all students who know anything about this article to make themselves known here and now. Whoever the guilty persons are, this is your only chance to avoid expulsion from this school.”
    Nolan stood silently, waiting for a response. Suddenly, the sound of a telephone ringing broke the heavy silence. Charlie briskly lifted the briefcase into his lap and opened it. Inside was the ringing telephone. The students whispered in hushed astonishment. No one had ever done something this outrageous at Welton! Undaunted, Charlie answered the phone.
    “Welton Academy, hello?” he said for all to hear. “Yes, he is, just a moment. Mr. Nolan, it’s for you,” Charlie said with mock seriousness.
    The dean’s face turned beet-red. “What?” Nolan screeched.
    Charlie held the receiver out to Nolan. “It’s God. He said we should have girls at Welton,” Charlie said into the phone as a blast of laughter from the students filled the old stone chapel.
    The dean did not hesitate to react to the stunt. Before he knew it, Charlie found himself standing in the middle of Nolan’s office as the dean paced furiously. “Wipe that smirk off your face,” Nolan hissed. “Who else was involved in this?“
    “No one, sir,” Charlie said. “It was just me. I do the proofing for the paper, so I inserted my article instead of Rob Crane’s. ”
    “Mr. Dalton,” Nolan said, “if you think you’re the first one to try to get thrown out of this school, think again. Others have had similar notions and they have failed just as surely as you will fail. Assume the position.”
    Charlie obeyed, and Nolan pulled out a huge, old paddle. The paddle had holes drilled in it to speed its progress. Nolan took off his jacket and moved behind Charlie.
    “Count aloud, Mr. Dalton,” Nolan instructed as he slammed the paddle into Charlie’s buttocks.
    “One.” Nolan swung the paddle again, this time putting more power into it. Charlie winced. “Two.” Nolan delivered, and Charlie counted. By the fourth lick, Charlie’s voice was barely audible and his face was contorted with pain.
    Mrs. Nolan, the dean’s wife and secretary, sat in the outer office trying not to listen as the punishment proceeded. In the adjacent honor room, three students, including Cameron, worked at easels, sketching the moose heads on the wall. They heard the paddle hitting Charlie and were filled with fear and awe. Cameron couldn’t draw the moose.
    By the seventh lick, tears flowed freely down Charlie’s cheeks. “Count!” Nolan shouted.
    By the ninth and tenth licks, Charlie choked on the words. Nolan stopped after the tenth lick and walked around to face the boy. “Do you still insist that this was your idea and your idea alone?” he asked.
    Charlie choked back the pain. “Yes... sir.“
    “What is this ‘Dead Poets Society?’ I want