The Legends (22 page)

His mother, on the other hand, liked the idea of Brian attending a local school with local children. The County Louth school, she argued, would allow Brian to learn in an environment that included all types of students, including girls, not just well off and well connected young men. His Dad had gone like, “But Pet, surely the quality of education at the private school is far superior to that at the public school. Look at the standardized test results and the university placement.”

His Mom, however, was not persuaded. “Education,” she said, “is more than just what is learned in the books. If Brian works hard he will be successful no matter where he goes to school, and we both know that he will work hard. There are excellent teachers in the public school as well and if he is not successful, it will be because we did not do our job as parents and not because the school was inferior. Meanwhile he will be educated in an environment that reflects the real world, with children of all skills and abilities, not just wealthy and privileged boys. He will also be able to walk to school and will not have to spend hours of his free time travelling.”

Brian suspected that his dad knew that he would not win this argument because once his mother had decided on something that was it, as he well knew. Anyway his dad tried one more thing, “And is that they way you think about my education … it didn’t reflect the real world?”

“Ah Pet,” his Mom had gone, “you know that was a different time and different circumstances. What was the right thing for you is not necessarily the right thing for Brian. He will be comfortable among the people he knows and he will not be so exhausted from travel that he won’t be able to enjoy his learning experience, not to mention playing hurling and other sports for his school as well as his club.”

The discussion ended as Brian hoped it would. Whatever about rugby, he loved his hurling, he loved the hills and fields around the Boyne and he loved the fresh air of the County Louth countryside. There was a certain security to his life that he had come to appreciate from his earliest memories and although he knew that some day that might change, just like the time when Molly died and his life was totally turned upside down, he wasn’t quite ready to move on.

Just as he had done when he attended grade school, Brian like the idea of racing through the fields to school with his great wolfhound Gráinne, who entered his life about six months after Molly died, leading the way and forcing him to run faster and faster just to keep up. At least he would know many of the other students, like Katie and her sister Libby, who came from the towns around Drogheda and did not have grand notions about themselves being from ritzy places near Dublin. Of course the hours at school would drag on, as they always did, but at least when the day was over he could run over to visit Mrs. O’Neill and tell her about all the interesting things that had happened. Mrs. O’Neill would have some treat like apple pie or chocolate chip cookies and a big glass of cold milk, which would keep him going until dinner time. So although he was a bit anxious about his first day in secondary school, Brian was glad that he was attending St. Killians on the banks of the Boyne.

A jumble of thoughts ran through Brian’s head as he raced down the road to the school. He certainly need not have worried about arriving on time because running fast and long was one thing that he could do well—that and hurling and most every sport for that matter. Funny thing, neither of his parents was even the slightest bit athletic and yet here he was, according to some of his coaches, “a natural” whatever that meant. He did know that he loved nothing better than taking his hurley out into the fields and smacking the hurling ball against trees, fence poles, utility poles or anything he could pick out, the smaller the target the better. And then Gráinne, or a few years back Molly, would be jumping around retrieving the ball and returning it to him for the next shot… a bit wet and sloppy of course, but that would be great practice for a rainy match. He also loved the soccer and working out with Mr. Blessington and he knew that St. Killians had a team so maybe he would get to play that as well.

The great thing about sport, he decided, was that since he was as good as nearly everyone he played with, even those several years older than he was, the big kids didn’t bother him even though he wasn’t very big himself. On the other hand, the problem was that he didn’t like to see other little fellows his age get hassled, just because they weren’t so good at sport. It wasn’t so bad in grade school but at the junior/senior high school there would be really big kids, six years older than he was and he hoped there wouldn’t be too many bullies. Dealing with an occasional bully was the only honorable thing to do but not something he enjoyed because it always seemed that he was the one that got in trouble… although big kids didn’t like to admit that a fellow his size had straightened them out. “A little less honor and a little more common sense,” his father advised on the last occasion. Not that he got into lots of fights or anything; it just annoyed him when stronger kids picked on weaker kids. Well maybe in the high school he would see where his father’s advice got him.

Brian slowed down as he approached the school gate. A number of students had already arrived but since others were strung out well down the road, he knew he had loads of time. Just ahead he saw Katie and Libby walking arm and arm into the schoolyard. Brian knew they were sisters but they didn’t look very much alike. Katie was Brian’s age, very pretty with long dark hair and big eyes while Libby was a year older but had always been in the same class as Katie. Libby had a round face, short blondish hair and smaller eyes. Libby didn’t speak very well, which suited Brian because he hardly spoke at all, but she always had a big smile on her face, which in Brian’s opinion, made her very pretty as well.

Brian stopped just behind the two girls, pushed his shirt tail into his pants and made an attempt to push his hair back into place. He then quickened his pace so that he was walking next to Katie. Brian didn’t say anything because he knew his voice would come out squeaky if he tried and he thought that Katie was pretending she hadn’t seen him for at least a few steps. Eventually she quickly glanced over at him and after again looking straight ahead she said in a very serious and proper voice, “Good Morning Brian.”

Brian mumbled, “Morning Katie,” and continued to walk with the girls.

“By the way, Brian,” his friend said pleasantly, “I would appreciate it if you would call me Kate from now on.”

Brian was a bit puzzled by the request but muttered, “Fine, Kate it is.”

Libby looked around her sister and said in a loud voice, “Hi Bri..Bri. School today.”

Libby always made Brian smile and this morning was no different. He found his voice and said, “Hello to you Libby. Yes, off to school.”

“Do you like my uniform?” Libby asked. “It is brand new and my mommy bought it for me.”

“I think it suits you well,” Brian replied.

As the trio approached the entrance, the school principal, Mr. Brian Freeman stood, hands behind his back, watching through his office window as students arrived for the new school term. He recognized most of the returning pupils, who were involved in the first year orientation, but paid particular attention to the first year students. They would be adjusting to a new and different educational system and it was his job, together with his staff, to make that adjustment as easy as possible. When the new class arrived each year, fresh and eager, he thought of them almost like a freshly wrapped Christmas package. One never knew what treasures or disasters lay inside.

The three approaching the door were certainly first years. He met the parents of the two girls, one of whom would probably be a high achiever while the other one should be in the special needs class. The parents explained that although their levels of comprehension were significantly different, the younger daughter, obviously the pretty brunette, was extraordinarily protective of her elder sister and hopefully the girls would be kept together as much as possible.

Freeman had explained that while mainstreaming special needs students was intended to better prepare them for the future, it was important that their education not disrupt that of students who were not in the special needs category. The girls’ parents assured Mr. Freeman that Libby would not be a disruption and, perhaps, her sister’s presence would provide her a much better learning environment then would be found in a typical special needs class. Although he had his doubts, Freeman agreed to allow the two to stay together, at least during the initial assessment period, and to see how it worked out.

As for the little fellow with the mop of strawberry-blonde hair, Mr. Freeman wondered if that was Dr. O’Sullivan’s son, a Brian like himself. Apparently the boy was the talk of the entire community because even as a young child he had displayed incredible athletic abilities. Possibly not—as the child didn’t appear to be very tall—but on the other hand, he carried himself like an athlete. His shoulders had a distinctive roll and he walked with his back ramrod straight and not slumped over like most of the other young men his age. The school had never experienced much athletic success but maybe young master O’Sullivan, whether or not the boy with the O’Donnell girls was the young man in question, would change all of that. Funny thing, Freeman was a classmate of Cathal O’Sullivan at Trinity and as far as he could remember, the boy’s father would have difficulty walking and chewing gum at the same time so he concluded that any athletic talent didn’t come from the father …must be something about a skipped generation.

Katie, Libby and Brian walked through the main entrance and into a foyer full of students waiting for the assembly hall to open. It appeared that most of those present were first years, easily identified by their small size, new uniforms and the wide-eyed looks at the unfamiliar surroundings. There were a few older students, standing to one side, who were chatting away with old friends, perfectly comfortable in the environment. The room was remarkably quiet, considering the number of young people, probably because, like Brian, they all felt a certain discomfort at this new experience.

Several people stared at Libby because she was unique and certainly didn’t look like any of the other students. Brian noticed their stares and so did Libby but in her typical fashion, she assumed that their attention was meant to be a friendly gesture so she waved and said hello to everyone she saw. Katie tightened her grip on Libby’s linked elbow and stared silently at anyone who might even think about mocking her sister.

A couple of the girls were not intimidated by Katie’s stares and walked over to the group. The two girls returned Libby’s greeting, introduced themselves as Siobhán Tierney and Maeve O’Brien and Maeve asked Libby her name. Libby responded brightly explaining the she was Libby and Kate was her sister. Kate, feeling a bit more relaxed smiled a quick greeting while Libby pointed to Brian and after giving his name, explained that he was their friend. After Siobhán and Maeve greeted Brian they were soon engaged in a pleasant chat with the two O’Donnells and soon all four girls were laughing at one thing or another. This rare sound caused others to look over at the group and soon other conversations started, more laughter was heard and in a short time, everyone seemed much more relaxed.

Throughout it all, Brian remained at Katie’s side saying nothing but pleased that he appeared to be part of a group. Although he attempted to convince himself that he was looking after the two girls, in truth Katie – mentally he corrected himself, Kate—was a quite confident even among all these strangers and, as such, she provided him with security and not the other way around.

Eventually, the doors to the assembly hall opened and everyone began to file into the room. Just as Brian was about to enter, two older boys, apparently juniors or seniors, approached Brian and lightly pushed his shoulder. “You Brian O’Sullivan?” he was asked.

Brian said nothing but nodded his head.

The taller of the boys again pushed his shoulder this time a bit harder and turning to his mate said laughing, “He doesn’t look all that tough to me.”

A puzzled expression crossed Brian’s face as he wondered what that was all about. First, he didn’t think that he had met either boy so how would they know who he was. Then, he never remembered thinking that he was tough so why would they say that. Seeing the girls enter the hall ahead of him, he promptly forgot about the encounter and rushed forward so that he could keep close to them.

The new dark blue five series BMW drove slowly to the gates of St. Killians Junior/Senior High School. Unlike other mothers who undertook a similar chore dressed in tracksuits and gym shoes the elegantly dressed and carefully coiffed Beatrice Pembroke would not consider venturing into the public domain without looking her best. After all, one never knew who one might encounter, although the chance of meeting anyone of consequence in the wilds of County Louth was certainly remote.

Beatrice looked with dismay through the gates of the utilitarian structure in which her children would be educated for the next six years. How far, she wondered, was it possible to fall in the course of six months? It seemed only yesterday that Patrick and herself were attending a formal dinner party at the residence of the English Governor of Hong Kong rubbing shoulders, as it were, with all the right people in the colony’s high society. Patrick was a senior vice president at the Anglo-Chinese Bank and she was actively involved in the Royal Eastern Golf and Tennis Club. Their son Chadwick was in his first year at the local private high school attended by all the better ex-pats. The young man was reportedly well adjusted and, by all accounts, an excellent soccer player.

Their daughter Charlotte—called ‘Charlie’ much to Beatrice’s distaste—was a popular and very pretty young lady who was just finishing her final year of primary school. It became clear that Charlotte was far more interested in tennis, soccer, field hockey and who knows what all else than she was in fashion and etiquette, proper interests for a well-reared young woman. Beatrice reluctantly tolerated her daughter’s peculiar interests because she believed that Charlotte would come around when she was more physically mature.