*This should be inserted at the end of Chapter 12 of A Separate Peace by John Knowles.

The morning of the funeral was dark, and the feeble sunlight was filtered through layers of dark and foreboding clouds. There was a constant mist surrounding the buildings of the Devon school, and the last few leaves on the ground were slick with the nights rain. The dorm windows were foggy, and rain had pooled in the sagging parts of the roofs. A few birds chattered in the trees, and the Devon River rushed by, replete with the rainwater and overflowing its banks. The only noise disturbing the stillness of the day was the sound of a few cars coming down the lonely road to the school, undoubtedly friends and family of Phineas. I had had a sleepless night, thinking of what was to come, and I missed my alarm in the morning. I came out of my dorm at last in my suit and tie, neither of which Phineas would have approved of. You look like an old man, Forrester. We still have lots of time

before we all start to look like that. His memory brought a sad smile to my face. In my shirt
pocket I had my handwritten notes, full of additions and subtractions I had made over the last few days. I still was unsure of my ability to capture the memory of Finny in a single speech. As I made my way towards the chapel, I glimpsed other students slowly finding their way towards the open door. We were all properly and neatly dressed, with ties tied and hair combed, and there were no smiles to be seen. All of this was very fitting for the solemn occasion that lay before us, which none of us had ever experienced before or had ever imagined happening on this small campus in the middle of nowhere. Despite the rain, which became harder as we walked, none of us seemed to want to rush inside. A silence hung over the small groups of students surrounding me while we tried to fight off the painful memories which threatened to overwhelm us. I had thought that I was ready for this day to come, but as the chapel came closer, I knew that somewhere in my heart, I was not yet ready to say goodbye. A few friends came and said things to me, but I was too occupied with my own thoughts to listen to what they had to say, so I merely nodded and moved on. As we filed into the chapel, our thoughts were abruptly shaken by the harsh sounds of the organ playing

O God Our Help in Ages Past. Still silent, I found my way to my place in the front row,
next to the headmaster and a few of our teachers who were part of the funeral as well. The headmaster turned to me to greet me, but turned away when he saw my blank and emotionless look. Sitting directly in front of us was the dark wood casket which I knew held so much more than what everyone else perceived. I stared at the casket until the organ

player finished what seemed like the tenth chorus, and the headmaster slowly rose and walked up to the podium and began in a heavy voice his opening remarks. Dearest Friends, I am honored as headmaster of the Devon School to welcome you to our campus this day, though I wish it were a more joyous occasion. We have gathered here today to remember the life of one of our bright young students, Phineas. The headmaster coughed into his handkerchief, and after a moment of silence, looked back up at the crowd. Phineas was a great inspiration to us all with his bright personality and his charismatic self. He cared not for others opinion of him, and lived his life with a smile on his face. I could feel the tears beginning, but I fought to remain in control. What would

Phineas want me to do? Would he want me to cry over him? I closed my eyes, and thought back to his smiling face. Id kill myself out of jealous envy. He had cared about me, but I
had rejected him because of my own jealousy. And this was where it led me, to a chapel full of tears and sadness and a coffin holding a person much greater than I. I had to fight to suppress the memories which came flooding back at this sudden realization. With no great deal of struggle, I pulled myself back to the service, where the headmaster was just finishing his talk. Even though his life was tragically cut short, we shall all remember Phineas as the wonderful young man he was. Thank you. The headmaster slowly descended the steps from the podium, and there was some quiet applause for him. A few people could be heard in the background silently crying or sniffling, but that was lost in the shuffle as our choir director motioned the crowd to stand. The organ player burst into song again, this time with A

Mighty Fortress is our God. I sang along, but I felt that I was merely a bystander to the
events as my thoughts traveled away from that little chapel on a hill. As the rain continued to pour down and clatter on the roof I thought, as I often did, of the events around and following the accident, the horrible accident in the tree. I had never been truly honest with myself, or anyone, about what had happened there. However, it was strangely easy to do that now, to admit to myself that I had done the unthinkable and caused Phineas to fall. I had been coming to terms with that fact ever since my first conversation with Phineas after the accident, but always there was a little bit of doubt. Maybe it was part of releasing Phineas and letting him go, or maybe without those like Brinker looking over my shoulder I was finally able to fully accept responsibility for my actions. Whatever the reason, I felt like I had released the guilt for my actions, having fully accepted them as my own.

I sat back down in my seat as the hymn concluded, and watched with disinterested eyes as others offered stories of Phineas, said prayers, and sang more hymns. I couldnt help but think that none of them really knew Phineas, and that the Phineas they knew was far different from my roommate who I had known almost as if I was Phineas himself. I looked down at the decorated paper they called a program, and saw that I was last person to eulogize at the funeral. This was fitting as well, as I knew I could leave the people with a sense of who the real Phineas was. As I slowly walked up to the podium, my thoughts were interrupted by a gentle hand on my shoulder. Gene, you forgot your paper; here. The headmaster tried to hand me my scribbled notes for my speech, which had fallen out of my pocket at some point during the service. I dont need them. Thanks. I motioned his hand away as I mounted the steps past the casket. I stumbled, and my hand grazed the smooth wood of the coffin. I recoiled from the touch without thinking, and quickly walked up the last few steps. As I surveyed the room, many people tried to smile at me, but it did not make a difference. I was still here, having to say goodbye to someone I knew so well. My strict composure began to wither, and I wished that I had brought my notes with me. However I plunged on, and with a deep, calming breath I arranged myself at the podium and began to speak. Hello, everyone, I began. The oppressive weight of Finnys death lingered over me, the constant thought that this blight on the school of Devon was my fault weighed heavily on my heart. As I stared down at the hard, granite floor I continued to speak, I just wanted to say something today for Finny. He was an inspirational character, an amazing athlete, and my thoughts became again clouded, memories of the kindness of Finny washing over me, and a steadfast friend. I was probably his closest friend.and biggest rival. My regret for the way I had thought about Finny that night was like a knife stabbing into my chest. But I dont think he ever knew that, I rushed ahead, wanting everyone to understand how good Finny was, I dont know if he ever cared. He was always so innocent and optimistic; I dont think he ever had a rival. He was a better person than I, and I thought back to that day at the beach, that one wonderful day Finny and I had spent together, that day when he told me I was his best pal. That day at the beach, and the many random creative things he had done inspired me again to continue. His random, cheerful, and sometimes explosive energy always keptall of us at Devon going. He was a bright star in the midst of the wara war which he refused to believe in. In fact, he refused to believe in many things, the guilt of my betrayal dug the cold steel further into my chest. He refused to see the bad in others.he always wanted to believe the best of everyone. I looked up at the audience, wanting them to understand what Finny had believed, what he had done. And as I looked up, I saw a beautiful, bright beam of light shine in through the

stain-glass windows of the chapel. The sun had finally come out to send the dark clouds of the morning; the beautiful rays of the sun softly lit up the chapel, reminding me of the beautiful, bright character of Finny. Especially me, I continued. He was the most amazing person I have ever known. His legacy will live on in this school and in all our hearts. I choked up, the finality of the horror of Finnys death settling as a heavy weight upon my heart. Despite all my preparations, my emotions began to take control. I know.I know he will live on in mine. My speech ended, my public mourning for the loss of Finny done, I could only trust myself to say, Thank you. There was no applause for my speech, just a hushed silence and a few soft tears. The headmaster smiled up at me, mouthing his thanks. As I left the podium, I was surprised to see Leper in the back corner of the chapel. And to add to my surprise (and concern), I saw his whole body quiver in the unmistakable movement of crying. His now obvious inner grief brought a new level of sadness to my heart. As I exited the chapelfor I was incapable of staying for the rest of the funeralhis head slowly lifted to show true despondency in his face. His eyes bored accusingly into mine, but I could tell that we shared in each others sorrow. This was the sanest I had seen him since before he had left Devon. Our eyes remained locked for only a few more seconds, after which he gave me a sad smile and a nod, a simple gesture of forgiveness. After leaving the chapel, I wandered down the tranquil halls of Devon, glancing now and then up at the cracked ceiling, as if I could receive comfort from the school which had brought me so much sorrow and pain. The words of the hymn Lord, Im Coming Home echoed off the walls, and, remembering Finnys love for music, I sat down in an empty corridor and began to mourn for Finny. I still did not cry, but I mourned for his death with my entire being. The marrow of his boneI still did not believe it. What had happened to the innocent world of the summer? The sudden end to the music brought me out of my reverie. I could hear the many people who had come to Finnys funeral slowly exit the chapel. There was much crying and very little talk from that crowd. An unsurprising amount of people came to Finnys funeralpeople I had never seen at Devon or anywhere else before. Finny had touched a great many people; but of course he had. After a while, when the crowds had left and the students of Devon returned to their dormitories, I found myself methodically walking to a place which had long filled me with dread and fear. I knew not what guided me there, but I carried on without turning back. My steps had brought me to a huge, black tree with a large branch that reached out across the river. The sunlight shone through the nearly leafless trees. I placed my hand on the cold bark of the tree, and slowly looked up at the branch where Finny had fallen, the branch which had brought me so much pain and worry, so much drama and confusion. I began to climb the rungs of the tree, as I had many times before, until I had made it to the branch where we had always jumped. Still keeping a hand on the trunk, I surveyed the land from the tree. I looked at the Devon River, watching it pour through the forest until it disappeared in the trees. I looked, and saw the place where we had played blitzball, one of Finnys many creations. In

my minds eye I could see Finny run through the grassy field, the rubber ball in his hand, dodging and sprinting and diving and leaping and doing everything that he loved. I saw Finny and I riding our bikes off campus to the beach, breaking the rules like we had done so many times. I looked, and saw the buildings of Devon, the playground of us innocent, young people who did not believe or participate in a war between nations. I walked out along the branch and prepared myself for one last jump, one last tribute to Finny. As I leapt into the river, the freezing cold water washing over me, I remembered Finny, my closest friend and biggest rival. I remember him, his actions, his life, and everything he had done for me and those at Devon. And then I walked back to my dorm, through the beautiful grass and the marble floors and the ice-covered sidewalks. As I stood shivering in the cold, I looked around at the Devon campus with somber finality, and said: Good-bye, Finny.