Finally a happy end/ Dead Poets Society (FINISHED)

Chapter 3

Finally we enter dad's classroom, the boys are talking and acting up. I can see dad glance out from his room off to one side of the classroom.

'Hey Spaz, Spaz.', Knox calls out. The boy who was called Spaz turns around in time to be hit by a ball of crumpled up paper while Cameron smacks him on the shoulder.

'Brain damage', Cameron mutters.

But everyone quickly quiets down as dad emerges from the other room, whistling the, what I recognize to be 1812 Overture. He walks up the length of the classroom and out the door without a word, though he sends a wink my was as he passes me. The boys look around at one another, uncertain of what to do.

'What is happening', Neil asks turning to me.

'Just wait', I chuckle at him, at the same time dad pokes his head back in the doorway, 'Well come on.' He gestures us to follow and we, after some hesitation, grab our books and follow my father out into the main entranceway.

We see my dad stand before the school's trophy cabinets, waiting until all the boys arrive.

'"Oh Captain, My Captain"', he says finally, 'who knows where that comes from?'

I can see Todd look up as if he knows the answer, but says nothing. Spaz blows his nose a little too close to Meeks for his liking, causing me to have to make an effort to muffle my chuckles. And apparently Neil noticed cause he gently nudged me before winking at me.

'Not a clue?', my father asks, 'It's from a poem by Walt Whitman about Mr. Abraham Lincoln. Now in this class you can call me Mr. Keating. Or, if you're slightly more daring, Oh Captain, My Captain.' this makes the class laugh slightly.

'Now let me dispel a few rumors so they don't fester into facts', dad continues, 'Yes, I too attended Hell-ton and survived. And no, at that time I was not the mental giant you see before you. I was the intellectual equivalent of a ninety-eight pound weakling. I would go to the beach and people would kick copies of Byron in my face.' this makes the boys laugh once again, while Cameron, obviously trying to write all this down, looks around confusedly, making me laugh once again. Dad looks down at papers in his hand. Now, Mr... Pitts. That's a rather unfortunate name. Mr. Pitts, where are you?' Pitts raises his hand, somewhat awkwardly, while everyone around him snickers.

'Mr. Pitts, would you open your hymnal to page 542 and read the first stanza of the poem you find there?' Pitts obliges before looking up confused: '"To the virgins, to make much of time"?'

'Yes, that's the one', he confirmed, 'Somewhat appropriate, isn't it.'

'"Gather ye rosebuds while ye may', Pitts read, 'old time is still a flying, and this same flower that smiles today, tomorrow will be dying."'

'Thank you Mr. Pitts. "Gather ye rosebuds while ye may." The Latin term for that sentiment is Carpe Diem. Now who knows what that means?' Meeks immediately puts his hand up, 'Carpe Diem. That's "seize the day."'

'Very good, Mr.-'

'Meeks.'

'Meeks. Another unusual name', my father noted, 'Seize the day. Gather ye rosebuds while ye may. Why does the writer use these lines?'

'Because he's in a hurry', Charlie jokes.

'No, ding!'dad slams his hand down on an imaginary buzzer, 'Thank you for playing anyway. Because we are food for worms lads. Because, believe it or not, each and every one of us in this room is one day going to stop breathing, turn cold, and die.' with that dad turns towards the trophy cases, filled with trophies, footballs, and team pictures.

Now I would like you to step forward over here and peruse some of the faces from the past', he continues, 'You've walked past them many times. I don't think you've really looked at them.'

The students slowly gather round the cases and dad moves behind them. 'They're not that different from you, are they? Same haircuts. Full of hormones, just like you. Invincible, just like you feel. The world is their oyster. They believe they're destined for great things, just like many of you. Their eyes are full of hope, just like you. Did they wait until it was too late to make from their lives even one iota of what they were capable? Because you see gentlmen, these boys are now fertilizing daffodils. But if you listen real close, you can hear them whisper their legacy to you. Go on, lean in.' The boys and I lean in, I am vaguely aware of Neils head hovering over my shoulder.

'Carpe', my father whispering in a gruff voice, 'Hear it?' dad says before returning to his gruff whisper, 'Carpe. Carpe Diem. Seize the day boys, make your lives extraordinary.'

I quietly look around me to see the boys stare at the faces in the cabinet in silence.

After class we all emerge from the school, loaded down with numerous books.

'That was weird', Pitts says.

'But different.' Neil defends.

'Spooky if you ask me', Knox says before shooting me a look of instant regret, remembering the teacher is my father. I chuckle at him.

'Think he'll test us on that stuff?' Cameron asks.

'Come on Cameron', Charlie sighs, 'don't you get anything?'

'What?' Cameron questions, 'What?'