Welcome to Welton

Chapter Five

When home, my parents would take turns banging my door til they were sure I was awake. Today I woke up to acorn eyes and dimples as deep as the Grand Canyon. Neil's voice was light and rough all at once, like he had just woken. His touch was gentle. His lips were chapped.

It was heaven compared to my normal.

Hours have passed since then. Multiple boring classes out of the way. It's English now and my fingers are crossed this professor isn't a snooze like the rest. After all, it's my favorite subject and a look into my dream career. If they manage to make it a bore, I will lose all hope.

Neil's friends are heading there in a clump. We take up most the hall. Students have to literally part as we march, with Charlie in front like a leader. He yells from ahead, sometimes grabbing and moving people himself if they refuse. I'm the farthest back and Neil stays by my side. I think he might fear I'll get swallowed in the crowd.

We're in the classroom now. We fill up the middle section and Neil takes the desk next to mine. Everyone is taking out their textbooks. The teacher will be here any second and if they're like the rest, it's better off being one step ahead.

Suddenly there's a whistle from the office and out steps a man. He walks past his front desk and struts down the isle, heading for the classroom door. Everyone watches quietly, faces turning to follow his steps. We watch as he exits and fades entirely.

Students look away and at one another, puzzled expressions obvious. No one has time to question before the same man has peaked his head in with a smile.

"Well come on!"

He disappears again and still everyone stays seated. A few kids chuckle while the rest still stare confused. The muttering starts and friends whisper about what to do next.

Neil is the first to stand, grabbing his book with an amused grin. "Let's go."

A few follow him and a few stay seated for a moment more. I'm up in a hurry, tripping over myself to catch up with the boy. Flora is at my side, giggling the whole way.

The teacher is in the front, still whistling as he leads us down the hall. I wonder, along with the rest, what he intends to do.

Eventually he stops, standing in front of a glass display case. We crowd around, eager and on our toes. The man is smiling, eyes darting back and forth as he gets a good look at us.

"O Captain My Captain. Who knows where that comes from?"

Silence. The students are quick to avert their gaze in hopes he won't call them out.

"Not a clue?"

Chins turn down.

"It's from a poem by Walt Whitman. About Mr. Abraham Lincoln. Now in this class you can either call me Mr. Keating, or if you're slightly more daring, O Captain My Captain."

Eyes peek back up, most still confused, some amused, and few annoyed. Some even laugh. I'm more curious than anything.

"Now let me dispel a few rumors so they don't fester at the facts. Yes, I too attended Hellton, and I 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."

More laughs.

"Now, Mr." He pauses, eyebrows furrowing as he reads from a list. "Pitts? That's a rather unfortunate name. Mr. Pitts? Where are you?"

Pitts, near the front, lifts his hand only slightly.

"Mr. Pitts would you open your hymnal to page five forty two. Read the first stanza of the poem you find there."

The flipping of pages sounds and we read along.

"To the Virgins, to Make Much of Time."

Boys chuckle.

"Yes, go on. Somewhat appropriate, isn't it?"

I watch Pitts and don't fail to notice when his eyes shift right. I follow and find Meeks staring back with a secret smile. Part of me wonders if anyone else had caught that or if they were too caught up in their glee.

"Gather ye rose-buds while ye may, old time is still a-flying; And this same flower that smiles today, tomorrow will be dying."

"Thank you Mr. Pitts." Another pause. "Gather ye rose-buds while ye may! The Latin term for that sentiment is carpe diem! Now who knows what that means?"

Chins turn down again, except this time Meeks raises a hand. "Carpe diem? That's seize the day."

"Very good, Mr.?"

"Meeks."

"Meeks? Another unusual name."

"Seize the day! Gather ye rose-buds while ye may. Why does the writer use these lines?"

"Cause, he's in a hurry." Charlie is leaned against a wall, arms crossed and smirk present.

"No!" Mr. Keating hits an imaginary buzzer while making the sound. "Thank you for playing anyway."

Kids laugh, even me. Charlie shrugs at Neil, who is shaking his head with a grin.

"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."

The smug smiles kids once held seem to fade just as quick as they came.

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

We step up, where he had been moments before. We lean, studying the faces like he asked.

"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 til it was too late to make from their lives even one iota of what they were capable? Because you see, these students are now fertilizing daffodils. But if you listen real close, you can hear them whisper their legacy to you. Go on, lean in. Listen, you hear it?"

Everyone leans, ears turned to the glass.

A ghostly voice whispers slow. "Carpe."

A few heads turn over their shoulder, but I stay with my ear to the glass.

"Carpe. Carpe diem. Seize the day. Make your lives extraordinary."

It's quiet now. Only the tick of the clock making a noise. We stay still and shocked. No one dare moves, too fearful of ruining this moment. So instead we wait and watch as the faces from the past take their hold on us.

Carpe diem.

Seize the day.