Dead Poets Society

arms.
    Mr. Perry walked
into the study and turned on the light. He looked around. Everything seemed
normal, but just as he turned to leave, he spotted the glistening black object
lying on the carpet—his revolver. Panicked, he moved around the desk until he
saw the pale white hand. He gasped.
    Neil lay on the
floor, bathed in his own blood. Mr. Perry 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