Incandescently | Dead Poets Society

Seven

"The human face is, after all, nothing more nor less than a mask." Agatha Christie

"Neil, we are already running late for the meeting," I exclaim, urging the ambition-filled boy to hurry along, "I do not understand why you are bringing that... partially destroyed lamp with you." I don't get an immediate answer from him, apart from a small shrug, as we enter the Indian Cave. Whilst Neil greets the Dead Poets in a kind manner, I apologise for our lateness and explain that our rehearsal had run over just a little longer than originally planned. 

Meeks then brings up the question of what Neil has with him, as the boy in question takes a seat between Todd and Pitts, whilst I sit beside Charlie who appears to be holding a golden saxophone in his hands. "Duh, it's a lamp, Meeks," Pitts jokingly comments through the pipe in his mouth, something I realise that everyone else has with them. "No," Neil replies, revealing the underneath of the lamp to be a porcelain man, "this is the God of the Cave."

Suddenly, a loud low note is blown through Charlie's saxophone, silencing the mumbles between some of the boys. "What do you say we start this meeting?" He proposes, acknowledging that time is already pressing on due to mine and Neil's lateness. Everyone is quick to agree, and I watch with curiosity as Charlie stands up into the centre of the space, holding onto his saxophone. "Gentlemen, Lady Liz," he starts, cheekily winking at me, "'Poetrusic', by Charles Dalton."

I prepare myself for a lovely performance, but find myself laughing heartily when he jokingly plays a series of incoherent notes, and the rest of the group - notably apart from Knox - join in also. "Laughing, crying, tumbling, mumbling," Charlie speaks, taking on a light-hearted tone, "gotta do more, gotta be more." Another set of tangled notes and melodies are played, some right down Pitts' ear that cause him to jolt backwards in pain. "Chaos screaming, chaos dreaming. Gotta do more, gotta be more!"

Then, Charlie shuts his eyes and begins to play a slow melody, composed beautifully and played with precision timing. We all gaze in wonder at his musical skills, yet Knox remains dissociated from the moment, even when the saxophone player kneels down before him and inches closer. "That was great!" Neil exclaims as everyone claps for Charlie, who sits back down beside me with a satisfied smile. "Where did you learn to play?" I ask, now incredibly intrigued.

"My parents made me take the clarinet for years," Charlie answers, adding that he hated it after Cameron tunes in with a comment about his love for the clarinet. "The saxophone," he continues, smirking, "the saxophone is more... sonorous." Amused giggles are sent Charlie's way at his use of vocabulary, the boys slightly teasing him, and then Knox seems to burst out of his daydream with a concerning exclamation of, "If I don't have Chris, I'm gonna kill myself." Charlie attempts to calm the boy down, but Knox shuts him down immediately by saying that his problem is that he's been calm all his life.

"I'm gonna do something about that," he finishes as he grabs his coat and goes to leave the cave, but turns back around when Neil asks where he is going. "I'm gonna call her," he admits, and the group collectively need no more information before deciding to drop the meeting, follow Knox and support his choice to call Chris. Barely ten minutes pass before we find ourselves standing before one of the Welton phone machines, watching as Knox abruptly hangs up the phone after hearing Chris simply greet him.

"She's gonna hate me," he mumbles, nervous as anything, "the Danburry's will hate me, my parents will kill me!" He glances around at each of us individually, hoping for some kind of reassurance, yet none of us have to even utter a word. The boys share a small giggle as he rolls in Chris' house number, holds the phone to his ear and when she answers again, he manages to introduce himself. Charlie moves around to stand beside him, hoping to hear better, as Knox whispers, "She's glad I called."