Read Online Dead Poets Society by N. H. Kleinbaum - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: N. H. Kleinbaum
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coat. “What’s going on?” Neil asked, staring at his roommate. Todd didn’t answer. “Todd, what’s the matter?” Neil said, sitting next to him on the wall. “It’s freezing out here!”
“It’s my birthday,” Todd said flatly.
“It is?” Neil said. “Why didn’t you tell me? Happy birthday! You get anything?”
Except for his chattering teeth, Todd sat silent and still. He pointed to a box. Neil opened it to find the same monogrammed desk set Todd already had in the room.
“This is your desk set,” Neil said. “I don’t get it.”
“They gave me the exact same thing as last year!” Todd cried. “They didn’t even remember!”
“Oh,” Neil said in a hushed tone.
“Oh,” Todd mocked.
“Well, maybe they thought you’d need another one. a new one,” Neil suggested after a long awkward pause. “Maybe they thought...”
“Maybe they don’t think at all unless it’s about my brother!” Todd said angrily. “His birthday is always a big to-do.” He looked at the desk set and laughed. “The stupid thing is, I didn’t even like the first one!“
“Look, Todd, you’re obviously underestimating the value of this desk set,” Neil said flippantly, trying to change the mood.
“What?”
“I mean,” Neil said and tried to smile. “This is one special gift! Who would want a football or a baseball bat or a car when they could get a desk set as wonderful as this one!”
“Yeah!” Todd laughed, infected by Neil’s humor. “And just look at this ruler!”
They laughed as they both looked at the desk set. By now it was pitch dark and cold. Neil shivered.
“You know what Dad called me when I was growing up? ‘Five ninety-eight.’ That’s what all the chemicals in the human body would be worth if you bottled them raw’ and sold them. He told me that was all I’d ever be worth unless I worked every day to improve myself. Five ninety-eight.”
Neil sighed and shook his head in disbelief. No wonder Todd is so screwed up, he thought.
“When I was little,” Todd continued, “I thought all parents automatically loved their kids. That’s what my teachers told me. That’s what I read in the books they gave me. That’s what I believed. Well, my parents might have loved my brother, but they did not love me.”
Todd stood, took a deep anguished breath, and walked into the dorm. Neil sat motionless on the freezing stone wall, groping for something to say. “Todd... ” he called lamely, as he ran in after his roommate.
“Hey,” Cameron shouted as the boys started into Mr. Keating’s room the next afternoon. “There’s a note on the board to meet in the courtyard.”
“I wonder what Mr. Keating is up to today.” Pitts grinned expectantly.
The boys raced down the hall and out the door into the chilly courtyard. Mr. McAllister peered out from his classroom door, shaking his head in annoyance.
“People,“ Keating said as the boys gathered around him. “A dangerous element of conformity has been seeping into your work. Mister Pitts, Cameron, Overstreet, and Chapman, line up over here please. ” He pointed to the four boys to stand near him. “On the count of four, I want you to begin walking together around the courtyard. Nothing to think about. No grade here. One, two, three, go!”
The boys began walking. They walked down one side of the courtyard, across the back, up the other e> and across the front, completing the square.
“That’s the way,” Keating said. “Please continue.”
The boys walked around the courtyard again as the rest of the class and the teacher watched. Soon they began to walk in step, a march-like cadence emanating from the pavement. They continued in a one-two-three-four pattern as Keating began to clap to the rhythm.
“There it is... Hear it?” he called, clapping louder in time. “One two, one two, one two, one two... We re all having fun, in Mr. Keating’s class...”
Sitting in his empty classroom grading papers, McAllister
“It’s my birthday,” Todd said flatly.
“It is?” Neil said. “Why didn’t you tell me? Happy birthday! You get anything?”
Except for his chattering teeth, Todd sat silent and still. He pointed to a box. Neil opened it to find the same monogrammed desk set Todd already had in the room.
“This is your desk set,” Neil said. “I don’t get it.”
“They gave me the exact same thing as last year!” Todd cried. “They didn’t even remember!”
“Oh,” Neil said in a hushed tone.
“Oh,” Todd mocked.
“Well, maybe they thought you’d need another one. a new one,” Neil suggested after a long awkward pause. “Maybe they thought...”
“Maybe they don’t think at all unless it’s about my brother!” Todd said angrily. “His birthday is always a big to-do.” He looked at the desk set and laughed. “The stupid thing is, I didn’t even like the first one!“
“Look, Todd, you’re obviously underestimating the value of this desk set,” Neil said flippantly, trying to change the mood.
“What?”
“I mean,” Neil said and tried to smile. “This is one special gift! Who would want a football or a baseball bat or a car when they could get a desk set as wonderful as this one!”
“Yeah!” Todd laughed, infected by Neil’s humor. “And just look at this ruler!”
They laughed as they both looked at the desk set. By now it was pitch dark and cold. Neil shivered.
“You know what Dad called me when I was growing up? ‘Five ninety-eight.’ That’s what all the chemicals in the human body would be worth if you bottled them raw’ and sold them. He told me that was all I’d ever be worth unless I worked every day to improve myself. Five ninety-eight.”
Neil sighed and shook his head in disbelief. No wonder Todd is so screwed up, he thought.
“When I was little,” Todd continued, “I thought all parents automatically loved their kids. That’s what my teachers told me. That’s what I read in the books they gave me. That’s what I believed. Well, my parents might have loved my brother, but they did not love me.”
Todd stood, took a deep anguished breath, and walked into the dorm. Neil sat motionless on the freezing stone wall, groping for something to say. “Todd... ” he called lamely, as he ran in after his roommate.
“Hey,” Cameron shouted as the boys started into Mr. Keating’s room the next afternoon. “There’s a note on the board to meet in the courtyard.”
“I wonder what Mr. Keating is up to today.” Pitts grinned expectantly.
The boys raced down the hall and out the door into the chilly courtyard. Mr. McAllister peered out from his classroom door, shaking his head in annoyance.
“People,“ Keating said as the boys gathered around him. “A dangerous element of conformity has been seeping into your work. Mister Pitts, Cameron, Overstreet, and Chapman, line up over here please. ” He pointed to the four boys to stand near him. “On the count of four, I want you to begin walking together around the courtyard. Nothing to think about. No grade here. One, two, three, go!”
The boys began walking. They walked down one side of the courtyard, across the back, up the other e> and across the front, completing the square.
“That’s the way,” Keating said. “Please continue.”
The boys walked around the courtyard again as the rest of the class and the teacher watched. Soon they began to walk in step, a march-like cadence emanating from the pavement. They continued in a one-two-three-four pattern as Keating began to clap to the rhythm.
“There it is... Hear it?” he called, clapping louder in time. “One two, one two, one two, one two... We re all having fun, in Mr. Keating’s class...”
Sitting in his empty classroom grading papers, McAllister
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