Dead Poets Society By N.H. Kleinbaum

CHAPTER 11

The brisk Vermont winter engulfed the campus at Welton. The once colorful foliage of the fall now blanketed the landscape, and fierce winds blew the brittle leaves in torrents. Todd and Neil, bundled in hooded down jackets and scarves, walked along a path that wound between buildings, the wind howling as Neil rehearsed his lines for A Midsummer Night's Dream.

"'Here, villain, drawn and ready. Where art thou?'" Neil called dramatically from memory.

"'I will be with thee straight,'" Todd read from the script.

"'Follow me, then, to plainer ground!'" Neil boomed, over the winds. "God I love this!"

"The play?" Todd asked. "

Yes, and acting!" Neil bubbled. "It's got to be one of the most wonderful things in the world. Most people, if they're lucky, live about half an exciting life. If I could get the parts, I could live dozens of great lives!" He ran and, with a theatrical flourish, leapt onto a stone wall. "'To be or not to be, that is the question!' God, for the first time in my whole life, I feel completely alive! You have to try it," he said to Todd. He jumped down from the wall.

"You should come to rehearsals. I know they need people to work the lights and stuff."

"No thanks."

"Lots of girls," Neil pointed out impishly. "The girl who plays Hermia is incredible."

"I'll come to the performance," Todd promised.

"Bluck, bluck, bluck ... chicken!" Neil teased. "Now where were we?"

"'Yea, art thou there?'" Todd read.

"Put more into it!" Neil urged.

"'YEA, ART THOU THERE?'" Todd bellowed.

"That's it! 'Follow my voice; we'll try no manhood here.'" He bowed and waved to Todd. "Thanks, buddy. See you at dinner," he called, running into the dorm. Todd stood outside watching him, then shook his head and walked off toward the library.

~

Neil leapt and danced down the hallway, jestering his way past other students who eyed him curiously. He pushed open his door with a flourish and jumped into the room, fencing the air with the jester's stick. Abruptly, he stopped. Sitting at his desk was his father! Neil's face turned white with shock.

"Father!"

"Neil, you are going to quit this ridiculous play immediately," Mr. Perry barked.

"Father, I ..." Mr. Perry jumped to his feet and pounded his hand on the desk.

"Don't you dare talk back to me!" he shouted. "It's bad enough that you've wasted your time with this absurd acting business. But you deliberately deceived me!" He paced back and forth furiously as Neil stood shaking in his shoes. "How did you expect to get away with this? Answer me!" he yelled. "Who put you up to this? That Mr. Keating?"

"Nobody ..." Neil stammered. "I thought I'd surprise you. I've gotten all A's and ..."

"Did you really think I wouldn't find out? 'My niece is in a play with your son,' Mrs. Marks says. 'You must be mistaken,' I say. 'My son isn't in a play.' You made a liar out of me, Neil. Now you will go to rehearsal tomorrow and tell them you are quitting."

"Father, I have one of the main parts," Neil explained. "The performance is tomorrow night. Father, please ..." Mr. Perry's face was white with rage. He moved toward Neil, pointing his finger.

"I don't care if the world is coming to an end tomorrow night, you are through with that play! Is that clear? IS THAT CLEAR?"

"Yes, sir." It was all Neil could force himself to say. Mr. Perry stopped. He stared long and hard at his son.