Dead Poets Society: Keating's Niece

8. Todd

MONDAY. English lesson. It is the day their assignments are due. NEIL is stood at the front of the class. He flashes a smile to NATALIE. 

Neil: 'To play a part well

          Is to know who you are well

          But who am I? Well.'

Keating: A haiku. How interesting and humorous Neil.

The class clap.

You're up next, Overstreet.

 KNOX stands up and walks to the centre. He takes a deep breath.

Knox: To Chris.

There is murmuring from the class.

           I see a sweetness in her smile. 

           Bright light shines from her eyes.

           But life is complete, contentment is mine

           Just knowing that...

The boys start to snicker and laugh.

          Just knowing that...

HOPKINS laughs. NATALIE shushes him.

           She is alive.'

KNOX goes to sit down.

Sorry Captain, it's stupid.

Keating: No, it's not stupid, it's a good effort. It touched on one of the major themes, love. A major theme not only in poetry, but in life.

KNOX sits down and CHARLIE pats him on the back.

Keating: Mr Hopkins. You were laughing. You're up. 

HOPKINS stands.

Hopkins: The cat sat on the mat.

NATALIE rolled her eyes.

Keating: Congratulations. The first poem to ever receive a negative score on the Pritchard scale. I didn't mind that your poem had a simple theme. Sometimes the most beautiful poetry can be about simple things, like a cat, or a flower, or rain. Just don't let your poems be ordinary.

HOPKINS looks a little bit ashamed. Pause.

Todd, let's put you out of your misery.

TODD is frozen. 

Todd: I didn't do it. I didn't write a poem.

KEATING seems disappointed. NATALIE is concerned. 

Keating: Mr Anderson thinks everything inside of him is worthless and embarrassing. Isn't that right, Todd? Isn't that your worse fear? Well, I think you're wrong. I think you have something inside of you that is worth a great deal.

KEATING pulls TODD up and has him yawp. He circles him while he has him answer questions. Eventually, TODD says a beautiful poem. 

Todd: I close my eyes

             And this image floats beside me

            A sweaty-toothed madman with a stare that pounds my brain

            His hands reach out and choke me.

            And all the time he's mumbling.

            Mumbling truth like a blanket that always leaves your feet cold.

            You can push it, stretch it, it'll never be enough.