'𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐧 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭, 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐮𝐩𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦'
Neil Perry is completely and utterly infatuated with the juvenile delinquent that attends W...
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Classes drag on, each hour and a half that passes seemingly longer than the last. The teachers that stand at the front of the class continue on with the day as if the tragedy that struck was an average occurrence.
Charlie no longer sits near the back of the class rooms silently mocking the faculty or throwing notes to his friends. Neil no longer sits by the window with his glasses perched upon his nose and a smile upon his face as he has quiet conversations with Will.
Welton seems less and less interesting now that the pair no longer are there.
English class is now in session, though Mr. Keating is no longer there, standing on top of the desks and reciting Whitman. The dozens of English students stand in front of their desks as Mr. Nolan walks in.
"Sit. I'll be teaching this class through exams. We'll find a permanent English teacher during the break. Who will tell me where you are in the Pritchard textbook?" Mr. Nolan asked, looking around at the classroom. Every student averts their eyes from the view of the headmaster, not wishing to be called upon. "Mr. Anderson."
Todd's head snaps up at his and he quietly stutters, "Uh, in the, in the Pr-"
"I can't hear you, Mr. Anderson." Mr. Nolan cut him off, his comment making Will's hand tighten into a fist.
"In the, in the, in the Pritchard?" Todd repeated, just as quiet as the last time. Mr. Nolan gives an audible sigh and turns to Cameron.
"Kindly inform me, Mr. Cameron."
"We skipped around a lot, sir. We covered the Romantics and some of the chapters on Post Civil War literature." Cameron told him, quite anxiously.
"What about the Realists?" Mr. Nolan questioned, looking around for an answer.
"I believe we skipped most of that, sir." Cameron responded sheepishly.
"All right, then, we'll start over. What is poetry?" Mr. Nolan asked, but stopped when a knock sounded at the closed door. "Come."
Mr. Keating enters the room, everyone looking at him. "Excuse me. I came for my personals. Should I come back after class?"
"Get them now, Mr. Keating." Mr. Nolan ordered, asks Mr. Keating does as commanded. He walks into the small supply closet at the back of the classroom and begins to pack up his personals.
"Gentlemen," Mr. Nolan began, completely disregarding Will not being a part of that gender. "turn to page 21 of the introduction. Mr. Cameron, read aloud the excellent essay by Dr. Pritchard on "Understanding Poetry.""
"That page has been ripped out, sir." Cameron told the man, hoping he didn't anger the headmaster.
"Well, borrow somebody else's book." Mr. Nolan suggested.
"They're all ripped out, sir." Cameron admitted, his head hung low.
"What do you mean, they're all ripped out?"
"Sir, we, uh-" Cameron stuttered, earning a quiet snicker from Will.
"Never mind." Mr. Nolan interrupted, passing the red headed boy his copy of the book. "Read!"
""Understanding Poetry by Dr. J Evans Pritchard, Ph.D. To fully understand poetry, we must first be fluent with its meter, rhyme and figures of speech, then ask two questions: 1) How artfully has the objective of the poem been rendered and 2)..." Cameron trailed off as Mr. Keating begins to exit the room.
"... How important is that objective? Question 1 rates the poem's perfection; question 2 rates its importance. And once these questions have been answered, determining the poem's greatness becomes a relatively simple matter. If the poem's score for perfection is plotted on the horizontal of a graph--"
"Mr. Keating! They made everybody sign it." Todd quickly interjected before their previous teacher could leave.
"Quiet, Mr. Anderson." Mr. Nolan demanded.
"You gotta believe us. It's true." Will added on, equally as desperate as her friend. Though she spoke to Mr. Keating last night, she did not manage to express how incredibly sorry she was for what happened to him.
"I do believe you." Mr. Keating said calmly with a smile.
"Leave, Mr. Keating." Mr. Nolan ordered harsly.
"But it wasn't his fault!" Todd exclaimed.
"Sit down, Mr. Anderson! One more outburst from you, Ms. Hunting, or anyone else, and you're out of this school! Leave, Mr. Keating. I said leave, Mr. Keating." Mr. Nolan said. Todd and Will both return to their seats with hesitation. But before the door can close Todd steps onto his desk.
"O Captain! My Captain!" He recited clearly, his voice not wavering in the slightest. He looks down at his former professed with a light smile on his face.
"Sir down, Mr. Anderson! Do you hear me? Sit down! Sit down! This is your final warning, Anderson. How dare you? Do you hear me?" Mr. Nolan shouted, outraged at the disobedience.
Will glances up at her friend and, with a slight shrug of her shoulders, steps up onto the desk with him. "O Captain! My Captain!"
"Ms. Hunting, I warn you! Sit down!" Mr. Nolan ranted. "Or it'll be back to the jail cell I found you in." Instead of listening to their angered headmaster, more and more of the students begin to follow Todd's lead until more than half the class is standing on their desks. "Sit down! Sit down. All of you. I want you seated. Sit down. Leave, Mr. Keating. All of you, down. I want you seated. Do you hear me? Sit down!"
