Dead Poets Society

knelt down and embraced his son while his wife let out an anguished scream.
    “No!” Mr. Perry cried. “No!”

    Mr. Keating and the boys took the girls home and returned to Welton in the early-morning hours.
    “I’m wiped, drained,” Todd said as he headed to his room. “I’m going to sleep until noon.”
    But early the next morning, Charlie, Knox, and Meeks walked into Todd’s room. The boys’ faces were ashen. They looked down at Todd, who snored peacefully.
    “Todd, Todd,” Charlie called softly.
    Todd opened his eyes and sat up, looking exhausted. After a few moments, his eyes adjusted to the light. He closed them and lay back down. Then, feeling for his clock, he picked it up and squinted.
    “It’s only eight. I gotta sleep,” he said, pulling the covers over his head. He sat up suddenly, his eyes wide open. His friends were still standing there, silent, and he sensed that something was wrong.
    “Todd, Neil’s dead. He shot himself,” Charlie said.
    Todd felt his head spin. “Oh, my God! Oh, Neil!” he wailed as he jumped from his bed and ran down the hall, screaming, to the bathroom. He sat on his knees in the stall and vomited until he thought his guts would come out. His friends waited helplessly outside.
    Todd came out of the stall, wiping his mouth. Tears streamed down his face. He walked back and forth in the bathroom. “Someone has to know it was his father! Neil wouldn’t kill himself! He loved living!” he cried.
    “You don’t seriously think his father...” Knox said.
    “Not with the gun!” Todd shouted. “Damn it, even if the bastard didn’t pull the trigger, he...” Todd’s sobs drowned his words until, finally, he controlled himself. “Even if Mr. Perry didn’t shoot him,” Todd said calmly, “he killed him. They have to know that!” He ran across the room, screaming painfully, “Neil! Neil!” Falling against the wall, he started sobbing again, and the boys left him alone, sitting on the floor, to cry out his grief.

    Not knowing that the boys even knew, Mr. Keating sat at his desk in his empty classroom, struggling to control his emotion. He stood and walked slowly to Neil’s desk. He picked up a book, his own battered and worn poetry anthology, and, as he opened it, his eyes focused on his own writing: “Dead Poets.” He slumped heavily into Neil’s chair, unable to hold back a cry of anguish and grief.

    The following morning was cold and somber, a bleak winter’s day with bitter gusts of wind that whipped around the procession led by the haunting lament of the school bagpiper.
    Neil was buried in the town of Welton. The Dead Poets carried his coffin on their shoulders. His mother, veiled in black, watched the procession with his father, both of them stunned by their grief. Mr. Nolan, Mr. Keating, and other teachers and students watched solemnly as Neil was laid to rest.
    After the burial, the entire school assembled in the Welton chapel. The teachers, including Mr. Keating, stood along the walls. The assembly sang a hymn before the chaplain spoke.
    “Almighty God, grant us the grace to entrust Neil Perry into the arms of thy never-failing mercy. Bless Neil and keep him. Cause the light of your countenance to shine upon him and be gracious unto him. Lift up your eyes upon him and grant him peace, now, and forevermore. Amen.”
    “Amen.”
    Mr. Nolan followed the chaplain at the podium.
    “Gentlemen, the death of Neil Perry is a tragedy. He was a fine student, one of Welton’s best, and he will be missed. We have contacted each of your parents to explain the situation. Naturally, all are quite concerned. At the request of Neil’s family, I intend to conduct a thorough inquiry into this matter. Your complete cooperation is expected,” Nolan said.
    The assembly was dismissed, and the boys filed silently out of the chapel. Charlie, Todd, Knox, Pitts, Meeks, and Cameron walked out together, then went their separate ways.
    Later, all but Cameron and Meeks reassembled in the junk-filled trunk room in the basement of their dorm. There was a knock at the door. Meeks entered.
    “I can’t find him,“ Meeks shook his head.
    “You told him about this meeting?” Charlie asked.
    “Twice,” Meeks said.
    “That’s it. Great!” Charlie threw up his hands. He went to the window and looked out across the lawn toward the administration building. He turned and faced his friends. “That’s it, guys, we re all fried.”
    “What do you mean?” Pitts