Dead Poets Society

Poets Society stood silently in the lobby. Charlie walked over to
Mr. Keating. “Is it okay if we walk back?” he asked.
    “Sure,” Keating
said, chilled with sympathy, as he watched the “Dead Poets,” along with Chris
and Ginny, leave the lobby and walk out into the cold, dark night.

Chapter
13

     
     
    Neil’s mother sat in
the corner of the small, stuffy study, her eyes swollen with tears. Mr. Perry
sat rigidly at his desk.
    The door opened and
Neil walked in, still wearing his Puck costume, his eyes also red from crying.
He looked toward his mother and started to speak, but his father quickly
interrupted.
    “Son, I am trying
very hard to understand why you insist on defying us, but whatever the reason,
I am not going to let you ruin your life. Tomorrow I am withdrawing you from
Welton and enrolling you in Braden Military School. You are going to Harvard
and you are going to be a doctor.”
    Fresh tears welled
in Neil’s bloodshot eyes’ “Father,” he pleaded, “that’s ten more years. Don t
you see, that’s a lifetime!”
    “You have opportunities
I never dreamed of!” Mr. Perry shouted. “I won’t let you squander them. “ He
stalked out of the room.
    Neil’s mother looked
like she wanted to say something, but she remained silent and followed her
husband out of the room.
    Neil stood alone,
completely drained of emotion, trying not to think about the future his father
had just laid out for him.
     
    Rather than walking
directly back to Welton, the pledges of the Dead Poets Society decided to go to
the cave. Todd, Meeks, Pitts, Charlie and Ginny, and Knox and Chris sat huddled
around the blazing candle of the cave god for warmth. Charlie held a half-empty
glass of wine, and the empty bottle sat on the ground nearby. The boys stared
morosely into the flame, aware that it was a symbol of Neil, who had brought it
to the cave.
    “Knox,” Chris said.
“I have to go home now. Chet might call. ”
    “It’s just for a
little while, ” Knox said, squeezing her hand. “You promised.”
    “You’re so
infuriating!” She half-smiled.
    “Where’s Cameron?”
Meeks asked.
    Charlie took a sip of
wine. “Who knows; who cares?”
    Todd suddenly jumped
up and pounded the walls with his fists. “Next time I see Neil’s father I’m
gonna smash him. I don’t care what happens tome!“
    “Don’t be stupid,”
Pitts said.
    Todd paced up and
down the cave. Suddenly, Mr. Keating poked his head in, illuminated from behind
by the moonlight.
    “Mr. Keating!” the
boys cried in surprise.
    Charlie hid the
bottle of wine and the glass. “I thought I’d find you here,” Keating said. “Now
we mustn’t be glum. Neil wouldn’t want it that way.”
    “Why don’t we have a
meeting in his honor!” Charlie suggested. “Captain, will you lead it?” The
other boys seconded the motion.
    “Fellows, I don’t
know... ” Keating hesitated.
    “Come on, Mr.
Keating, please...” Meeks urged.
    Keating looked
around at the pleading faces. “Okay, but only a short one,” Keating relented.
He thought for a moment, then began: ‘“I went to the woods because I wanted to
live deep and suck out all the marrow of life! To put to rout all that was not
life. And not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived. He paused.
“From Mr. e.e. cummings:
     
    “dive for dreams
    or a slogan may
topple you
    (trees are their
roots
    and wind is wind)
    trust your heart
    if the seas catch
fire
    (and live by love
    though the stars
walk backward)
    honour the past
    but welcome the
future
    (and dance your
death
    away at this
wedding)
    never mind a world
    with its villains or
heroes
    (for god likes girls
    and tomorrow and the
earth)”
     
    Keating paused and
looked around. “Now, who else wants to read?” No one spoke. “Come on boys,
don’t be shy,” he urged.
    “I have something,”
Todd said.
    “The thing you’ve
been writing?” Charlie asked.
    Todd nodded. “Yeah.”
    The boys were really
surprised that Todd had volunteered. He stepped forward and took some crumpled
papers from his pocket, passing slips of paper to each of the others.
    “Everybody read this
between verses,” he said, holding up the slips of paper.
    Todd opened his poem
and read:
     
    “We are dreaming of
tomorrow, and tomorrow isn’t coming;
    we are dreaming of a
glory that we don’t really want.
    We are dreaming of a
new day when the new day’s here already.
    We are running from
the battle when it’s one that must