The Legends

by Robert E. Connolly

  Miss Byrne had quickly decided that she might have to “put the schmock on him” but for the most part her efforts were unnecessary. The reason was that, unfortunately for Chad, his sister Charlotte was also in the class. “Charlie” was a good friend of Kate and Libby and she brokered no nonsense from her brother. If Chad’s behavior became a little too outrageous, Charlie was quick to straighten him out. In addition, it seemed to Pamela that despite his attempts at being cool, Chad was attracted to Kate, as were most of the fellows. Chad quickly realized that his disruptive behavior would not impress Kate in the slightest, so after a couple of failed attempts, for the most part he fell into line.

  And then there was Brian Boru O’Sullivan. Now this young man was a bit of an enigma. Miss Byrne knew from the faculty lunchroom that he was quite possibly the greatest athletic talent that had ever graced the halls of St. Killians. This level of athletic talent often translated into popularity and a leadership role, but Brian was very quiet and reserved and seemed happy enough to silently follow Kate, Libby and their gang like a well-trained puppy.

  Even though he was not particularly tall – although Miss Byrne noticed that he was experiencing a growth spurt typical for boys that age – the other boys treated him with a great deal of respect. Normally smaller boys were the targets of physical horseplay, generally harmless enough, but even boys in the upper classes gave Brian a wide berth. It was as if they saw something in his eyes, perhaps silent and deadly, or perhaps it was his athletic skills. In any case they had apparently decided not to subject him to the tests that most of the others endured. Miss Byrne, however, could not see anything threatening about the boy. Like many boys his age Brian was cute with bright blue eyes, red-blonde hair with an unrepentant cowlick, and dimples that were present even when he wasn’t smiling.

  Brian was also a model student at least with respect to his work and classroom behavior. Miss Byrne suspected that his performance was a credit to his parents, Cathal and Evelyn O’Sullivan. Within the first week of classes they had arranged to meet with her to discuss what was expected of not only Brian but also themselves.

  Miss Byrne had actually been a student of Dr. O’Sullivan at UCD and she was both impressed and flattered that he would take the time to seek her advice on educating their son. The results spoke for themselves. Brian never missed a class, was always completely attentive and never caused the slightest disruption. His school journal was a model of precision and it reflected a serious effort to neatly and carefully display what he learned. Miss Byrne could find no fault with his performance as a student…with one notable exception. In the weeks of teaching Brian history and geography, he never once opened his mouth in class.

  Miss Byrne believed in a form of the Socratic Method rather than just lecturing the students. History, she explained to all her classes, was more than just a time-line of people, places and events. She attempted to get the students involved in lively discussions eliciting their opinions on the reasons for historic events and encouraging them to use their imagination in reliving history.

  In most cases, there was an initial reluctance to become involved in these discussions but after a few weeks, inhibitions disappeared and nearly everyone had something to offer. Even reluctant students usually joined in with a small bit of encouragement. Miss Byrne attempted to draw Brian into these discussions but his furious blushing and obvious discomfort made it clear to her that his time had not yet come. In time she began to wonder if he would ever have enough confidence to speak out.

  Miss Byrne’s thoughts were interrupted by the bell marking the beginning of the class so she collected her thoughts and entered the classroom, closing the door behind her. The class rose to greet her and on her direction, sat down as the lesson began.

  “Today we will be discussing life in Celtic Ireland,” she began focusing the student’s attention on a large poster of a crannog that she had hung at the front of the classroom. “Who can tell me about this picture?”

  Several hands went into the air and Miss Byrne asked Charlie Pembroke to respond. “That is a crannog, Miss, a compound where the Celts lived. It was like an island surrounded by a wooden fence with houses in the middle. The houses were made of wooden poles with sticks and mud walls and thatched roofs.”

  “Very good,” Miss Byrne replied writing and underlining crannog on the blackboard. “Now, you are a Celt living in a crannog, three thousand years ago. Tell me what it was like.”

  For a moment there were no hands so Miss Byrne moved over to the poster and pointed to a cross-section of a house. She then prompted her class, “Well now, where was the light switch for electricity?”

  The suggestion caused a number of twitters among the students and Libby said, “Sure they didn’t have ‘lectric lights back then, Miss.”

  “You are absolutely right, Libby,” the teacher replied to her beaming student. “No electric lights, she wrote under the word crannog, much to the amusement of the class. “What else can you tell the class about living in a crannog…Anyone?”

  Again she looked around for a raised hand but when none appeared she began to think about offering some more hints or approaching the discussion from another angle. Just as she was about to turn around she thought she saw Brian O’Sullivan’s hand, barely visible over the shoulder of the boy in front of him. Looking again she clearly saw the hand and wondered for a moment if she was hallucinating. … No definitely not.

  “Yes, Brian,” she said trying to contain her curiosity.

  “Well Miss,” Brian began staring intently at the poster, “the round houses inside the crannogs were very smoky because they had a fire in the middle to keep people warm and the smoke went everywhere. There was a hole in the top so some smoke went out there but it was still smoky. The ceiling was not brown like in that picture but it was black from all the smoke. Lots of people had red eyes like you get when smoke gets into your eyes and a lot of the older people couldn’t see very well because of all the years in smoky houses. They also seemed to cough a lot, probably from all the smoke.”

  Miss Byrne listened in amazement. Suddenly aware of the fact that her expression might be reflecting her surprise, she turned quickly and wrote ‘smoky’ under crannog. “Excellent Brian,” she said, “anything else.”

  “Yes” the boy replied solemnly, “the houses had the most peculiar smell. People didn’t take that many baths back then especially when it was cold, and sometimes they used animal skins to keep them warm, which you couldn’t really clean. And then the smell of smoke got into everything especially the animal skins and peoples hair, so when you put everything together, there was a very strong smell.”

  Miss Byrne wrote ‘strong smell’, underlying strong on the blackboard.

  Turning to Brian she again attempted to mask her amazement, “Very good, Brian. Have you been to Ferrycarrig or one of the Celtic tourist centers?”

  “No, Miss,” he replied seriously leaving no doubt that he was telling the truth.

  Miss Byrne has assumed that his knowledge must have come from such a source, although she could not recall any interpretive center that provided so visual an explanation, and his response took her by surprise. She certainly did not want to say anything that would discourage Brian’s continued participation, especially since the other students were obviously infatuated by his insights. As much to buy time as anything else she said, “Tell us more about the smell.”

  Brian’s forehead was knotted in concentration as if he were trying to remember something but after a moment he replied, “I think that the first time someone smelled a Celtic house they might think it was a terrible smell, but people lived with it their whole life and they got used to it so after a while no one seemed to notice. I don’t think it was a nice smell for us but for the Celts it was the smell of home so for them it was nice.”

  Miss Byrne leaned forward with her elbows locked and both hands on her desk as she listened closely to what the boy had to say. In all her years of teaching, this was definitely a
first… a student whose creative imagination was so advanced that one would swear he was speaking from his own experience. Not wanting to let the experience pass she continued, “And the people, Brian, what were they like?”

  “Well,” he said, searching his memory for the right description, “most of them were short, at least not as tall as we are. They didn’t cut their hair so it was a bit wild. The people mostly had light brown or reddish colored hair but sometimes you couldn’t really tell because it was dirty. Some of the younger men also bleached their hair white but I’m not sure why they did that. I don’t think their teeth were that good, especially the older people because they didn’t have dentists or toothbrushes. Most of the older ones only had a couple of teeth in their heads. It didn’t really matter because they didn’t eat that much meat, except for special occasions and the porridge and bread didn’t need that much chewing. They were very nice, especially to their children and babies and gave them lots of hugs and kisses. And then I think they sang a lot when they were happy or even when they were sad.”

  Brian paused for a moment and then he concluded, “I think that is all I can think of at the moment.”

  “Thank you very much Brian,” Miss Byrne responded. “If you don’t mind me asking, have you read about these things you told us in a book?”

  “No miss,” he replied looking directly at her with his big blue eyes.

  Suddenly realizing the source of his knowledge she said, “Of course. Your father must have told you about life in early Ireland. He is a Celtic scholar isn’t he?”

  Brian blushed, “Yes, Miss, he teaches about the Celts, but he didn’t tell me about what the people were like or what it was like to live in ancient Ireland. We don’t talk about things like that at home.”

  “But, how is it that you know all these things?” she asked.

  “I don’t know, Miss,” he answered obviously perplexed. “I suppose I just thought about what it must have been like.”

  Miss Byrne smiled, “Well thank you for telling us about the Celts, Brian. Your answer was the best I have ever heard.”

  Brian blushed even more at the compliment as Miss Byrne composed herself to continue her lesson on the Celts. She noticed that several of the students were as surprised and impressed as she had been by the exchange and it took them a moment to redirect their attention from the back of the room where he sat, head down. She particularly noticed that both Kate O’Donnell and Charlie Pembroke, both very bright students, were among the last to return their attention to the front of the class and they smiled slyly as they did so.

  The meaning for the smiles was not lost on Miss Byrne who decided that there must be far more to young Brian than meets the eye. Perhaps she was doing him a great disservice in thinking that he merely followed the girls around.

  The remainder of the lesson was a bit of an anti-climax as Miss Byrne found it difficult to concentrate on her lesson plan. She just couldn’t shake her surprise at what had just occurred. It wasn’t only the descriptions, which were historically accurate, perceptive, and imaginative but the manner in which they were presented. And then, as if to top it all off, it was Brian Boru O’Sullivan, quiet, shy and invariably mute Brian O’Sullivan who painted so brilliant a picture. Well, just about when she thought she had seen it all….

  The class ended and Miss Byrne exchanged greetings with several of the students as they departed for their lunch period. Among the last to leave was her newest prize pupil who scurried past with a shy smile, hoping it seemed that he would avoid further conversation. The last thing she wanted was to discourage him from further participation so she said softly, “Well done, Brian.”

  The young student turned back and smiled.

  When the last student left, Miss Byrne locked the classroom and walked in the direction of the staff room. Although she greeted a couple of students and fellow teachers along the way, she was having a great deal of difficulty getting the classroom exchange out of her mind. There were without doubt things that Brian had said that would be found in any number of books, but then he also mentioned things like the specific nature of the smells and the affection that the Celts had for their children. Where had those things come from?

  Miss Byrne took her books into the teachers’ common area and placed them in the pigeonhole that was designated for her use. She then sat down at the table in front of the boxes collecting her thoughts. Finally her curiosity got the better of her and she rang Mrs. O’Sullivan.

  The telephone was answered on the third ring and after the greeting Miss Byrne said, “Hello Evelyn, this is Pamela Byrne from St. Killians.”

  “No, no nothing is wrong. Quite the opposite in fact.”

  “Of course I understand. After all this is the first time I have called you.”

  “Well this might sound a bit strange but Brian said the most extraordinary things today in history class. The fact that he said anything at all would in and of itself have been big news but we were speaking about the life of the ancient Celts and I asked the students to imagine they lived in those times. I then asked them to describe life in a crannog. There weren’t any volunteers until he spoke, for the first time since he walked into my class.”

  “Yes, I know he is very self-conscious but hopefully the experience today will give him the confidence to participate a bit more.”

  “No, no. You see his descriptions of life in ancient Ireland were not only historically accurate… at least to the extent that we can surmise… but were so perceptive and, frankly, so personal that you would have thought he had lived in those times.”

  “Yes, I certainly agree that idea is a bit crazy. I was just curious whether you had any idea where he might have come up with these ideas. Perhaps a book or from speaking with your husband.”

  “I see. Your husband keeps his professional life completely separate from his home life. Brian did mention that Celtic Studies is not something that is ever discussed in the house. Might Brian have wandered into his office?”

  “Off limits… Yes. I’m a bit the same way. Not particularly neat but I am organized in my own fashion and I don’t want anyone touching anything because I know where everything is.”

  “Sports books… I see. Yes, I suppose that the reading habits of most young fellows would not be particularly academic.”

  “So I have heard. It sounds like he is very active and gets plenty of exercise. But I must say you must be doing an excellent job, “pinning him down” as you say for those couple hours every evening, because his homework is exemplary.”

  “No, that’s it. His participation today was not only unexpected but so outstanding that my curiosity got the better of me and I thought that you wouldn’t mind me ringing you.”

  “No, not at all. Thank you. I wish all the parents were more like Dr. O’Sullivan and yourself.”

  “Bye…Bye… Bye.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Margaret was sweeping the autumn leaves from her porch when she caught sight of a familiar red-blond head running up the laneway. Because of his soccer and other school activities, she didn’t see Brian as often as she had when he was in grade school, but he was still a frequent visitor. When he did appear, he brought a special joy to her day and she sometimes longed for the days when he was just a little fellow and a day seldom passed when she was not blessed with his company. But her Brian was now growing up and she was delighted that he was becoming a wonderful young man.

  Soon after he began secondary school, Margaret thought that perhaps Brian had outgrown her usefulness to him. Rather than inflicting what she thought might become an unwanted obligation, she told Brian that she knew he was very busy with school, new friends and his sport so he shouldn’t feel obligated to visit her if it was not convenient.

  The look of horror that crossed his face at the time still brought a smile to her ancient face. “Obligation” he said in sincere shock, “Mrs. O’Neill, you are part of my family… like… like my granny. Since I don’t have any grannies that are st
ill alive, you are the only one I have. And I love visiting you and talking about all sorts of things. Sometimes, when my mind is confused you always seem to have the right thing to say. Plus… where would Molly and now Gráinne be without you. Mrs. O’Neill, I love you.”

  The response brought tears to her eyes and after thanking him for saying such kind things Margaret explained that she loved him too but she knew he would be very busy now that he was in high school and she just wanted him to know that she understood perfectly if he couldn’t make it over as often as he used to. Brian replied that he also knew he would be busy but he loved visiting her and he hoped she didn’t mind if he popped in whenever he could. That seemed to resolve the matter and, true to his word, Brian did call in frequently and when he did, the visit made the old woman’s day.

  It occurred to Margaret that the boy that arrived at her gate that day, followed closely by his beloved wolfhound was more a young man than a boy. He was apparently in the midst of a growth spurt and he was now taller than she. On the other hand, Brian’s blue eyes still sparkled, his hair was still unruly and the dimples on his cheeks were as prominent as ever. Unlike many teenagers, the boy’s growth did not seem to give him a long and gangly appearance rather; his proportions did not seem to change at all. As he grew taller, his neck and shoulders also broadened and his arms and legs appeared to be more muscular and well defined.

  When she mentioned her observations to Evelyn, the boy’s mother agreed completely reporting that she put it down to his suspected genetic background. She guessed that in Celtic Ireland survival required that a boy develop into a man very quickly and Brian’s growth reflected his heritage. Although Evelyn also suggested that it might have something to do with the fact that not only did Brian eat like a horse but his enthusiasm for nearly non-stop exercise and practice had not waned in the slightest. Margaret laughed as her friend pondered when it would be that her son became one of those teenagers who lie around and do nothing.