The Legends

by Robert E. Connolly

  The first people she would meet were Brian O’Sullivan’s parents Cathal and Evelyn. Even though she met his parents early in the school term, before she had really become acquainted with Brian, Pamela was a bit nervous about the meeting. Dr. Cathal O’Sullivan had been a lecturer at University College Dublin when she was studying history and there was always something intimidating about meeting with one’s past professors. It seemed like, no matter how long she had been teaching, when confronted with one of her professors she suddenly reverted to her prior experience as shy student, terrified that her performance would not be good enough to satisfy her teacher. Fortunately she had done well in Dr. O’Sullivan’s class.

  Brian’s parents arrived early for their appointment, which was always an encouraging sign. Rather than make them wait, Pamela was happy to invite them into her tutor classes’ room.

  “Welcome,” she said shaking each of their hands. As was often the case, Pamela looked at the parents trying to see if she could spot physical characteristics that were inherited by her student. Apart from the strawberry-blonde hair, which Brian probably inherited from his mother, she could see few similarities. Dr. O’Sullivan was tall and gangly with a long thin face, graying hair that had once been dark and brown eyes. Evelyn was short and round with a rosy complexion, curly red-blonde hair and green eyes. Although they may not have looked like their son, it quickly became clear that they were most interested in his welfare.

  “Thank you for seeing us,” Evelyn said with a smile that was probably a permanent fixture on her face.

  “Yes,” Cathal added, “we appreciate the opportunity to discuss our Brian’s progress since our last meeting… hopefully it is progress.”

  Pamela directed the couple to chairs that had been set in a small circle, “Of course Dr. O’Sullivan, Brian is a pleasure to teach.”

  Cathal looked more closely at Pamela and recognition finally registered. “Ah yes, Miss Byrne,” he said with a smile. “I do seem to remember a student of mine who bore a remarkable resemblance to you what, four or five years ago.”

  Pamela smiled, “Well, try twenty four or twenty five years ago.”

  Dr. O’Sullivan shook his head in what appeared to Pamela to be genuine amazement, “Not possible. You are entirely too young to be that Miss Byrne.”

  “I’m afraid I am,” she replied basking in the compliment.

  “Well, at least we know our Brian is in good hands,” Cathal said seriously. “I recall you being quite a diligent student.”

  Pamela, blushing slightly and realizing she was regressing into ‘shy student mode,’ responded, “Well the subject matter and the presentation interested me a great deal so that made it a bit easier.”

  “Thank you.” Cathal replied graciously. “And by the way, please accept my apologies for not recognizing you when we met some weeks ago. It must have been your youthful appearance.”

  “Will you go on out of that?” Pamela replied happily.

  “But enough about the old days,” he continued. “What about our Brian? What can we do, or should we be doing to make sure he makes the most of his education? I must admit I am a bit at a loss when it comes to secondary education.”

  “I would have to say, that isn’t reflected in your son’s performance,” Pamela said. “Very few of my students are as well prepared for class. The reports from the other teachers are virtually identical to my observations and I can only assume that is because you work with him at home.”

  Evelyn responded, “We do check his homework every evening and long ago we established a routine that includes a quiet period of study after dinner. When school is in session we actually sit down with him and read or work as well so it has become a natural part of our lives – something we do as a family. You see, Brian is a very active child and the study period is the only way we can slow him down long enough to help him concentrate on his studies.”

  Pamela smiled, “Is there any chance you could convince a few other parents that an evening study time is a good idea? Brian has obviously benefited.”

  “Thank you,” Dr. O’Sullivan said, “but what else can we do?”

  Pamela consulted her notes, “I spoke with most of Brian’s teachers and they all agree that he is always prepared and attentive in class. The only complaint anyone seems to have is that he is very quiet and seldom participates in class discussions when the teachers engage with the class. Now I know that this is simply a matter of self-confidence because many first year students are also very quiet. No one knows your son better than you do so perhaps you may have some ideas, or perhaps it is just a matter of time and development.”

  Dr. O’Sullivan stroked his chin and considered what Miss Byrne said. “I wouldn’t say he is quiet around the house so perhaps it is just a matter of comfort and confidence.”

  “Maybe if we talked more about the class discussions that would help,” Evelyn suggested.

  Pamela nodded her head appreciating these parents’ interest and concern. “I know I spoke to Evelyn about this some weeks back, when Brian not only participated but made some remarkable observations about life in early Celtic Ireland. That seemed to be a subject that he was completely comfortable with so maybe with comfort will come confidence. But he did say something interesting when I spoke with him about it. Brian told me that you don’t discuss Celtic studies at home even though you would without any doubt be an incredible resource on the subject.”

  “Yes,” Dr. O’Sullivan replied. “My difficulty, not my son’s, is that my life has been dedicated to the study of Celtic Ireland and while I greatly enjoy my work, I consider myself one dimensional in some regards and I wouldn’t want to foist that on my son. While I am gratified at his interest, although I’m not sure where it comes from, I want him to be well rounded, unlike his father, and to that end, I keep my professional life as an educator in Celtic Studies separate from my role in educating my son.”

  “But perhaps he has inherited the bug from you?” Miss Byrnes inquired.

  “Perhaps,” Cathal replied with a smile. “At any rate, it would do no harm discussing the matter with him… along with our more general talks about classroom participation. If I made a concerted effort to avoid Celtic overload, perhaps we could have the best of both worlds.”

  Evelyn added, “You see, Miss Byrne, Cathal and I came upon this parenting business comparatively late in life. In fact the arrival of our Brian could not have been more of a surprise. We have our theories about good parenting, and of course we have read everything we could get our hands on, but theory and practicality can be two different things. As a result, we are always interested in hearing what people who deal with children all the time, teachers or other parents, for example, have to say.”

  “Quite right,” Cathal added. “Brian is our most important priority at this time. Anything that we can learn to help in his education and development is most valuable information. For that reason we really appreciate meeting with you and we are most encouraged by your interest in our Brian.”

  Pamela smile warmly thinking that if all parents were like this couple, her life would be a stroll in the park. “You can certainly be assured of my interest,” she said. “Brian is a delight to teach and a wonderful boy. As for your own role, you know your son far better than I do, but I can’t imagine anything you could or should be doing that you are not already doing. I honestly wish that all the parents were as concerned and active as you are.”

  “Thank you for that,” Evelyn said with a smile.

  “Is there anything else we need to know about?” Cathal asked.

  “No, not at all,” Pamela said rising from her chair. “Well, perhaps one more thing… more curiosity than anything else… Do you have any theories on how Brian became such an incredible athlete? His skills and abilities have obviously turned this school upside down.”

  Cathal laughed, “Your guess is as good as mine. I could say he works out and trains during all of his spare waking hours, because that is the truth, but he has
had these incredible abilities from, literally, infancy. So, I would have to say it is hereditary. Having said that, neither Evelyn nor I have an athletic bone in our bodies and we are not aware of any distinguished athlete in the past few generations of our families. So it must be a rather recessive gene or something like that.”

  “You see,” Evelyn added, “the very existence of Brian in our lives is so remarkable that we accept everything about him as a wonderful surprise… of course some things are more surprising than others. The thing is, Brian is Brian and we love him unconditionally so athleticism is just something that happens to be part of the package. We have talked to Brian about this and, hopefully, he understands that his skills are only a part of him and that he shouldn’t let them define him, if you know what I mean. I would hope that he will always be very levelheaded about his abilities and not allow them to overshadow his wonderfully good nature.”

  Pamela nodded her head in agreement. “Well, I must say that so far, it would appear that there is very little chance of that. Although he is well respected by all the students for his athletics, he is also well liked by his classmates. “Nice” seems to be the applicable term which does mean a great deal to children in their early teens, so it seems to me you have done an excellent job as parents. The young man is a pleasure.”

  “Thank you,” Evelyn replied, shaking her hand. Dr. O’Sullivan added his thanks and handshake as Pamela opened the door to the classroom.

  “Thank you both for coming in and if you ever have any questions or if I can be of any assistance, please don’t hesitate to contact me,” she concluded. “Here is a card and I have included my mobile phone number on the back.”

  When the door closed behind them Pamela Byrne walked over to her desk to prepare for the next meeting. There were times when she wondered whether she made the right decision in entering and remaining in the teaching profession. This was not one of them.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  Brian Freeman had been the principal of St. Killians High School since its inception twenty-five years earlier but in all those years he had never seen such excitement, and indeed spirit, among both students and staff. The school’s senior boy’s soccer team had reached the finals of the Leinster Championship, rarefied air for a team that had never previously made it out of the group stages to the quarter finals. The match would be played that evening at soccer grounds in Dublin and nearly the entire school was planning to support the team.

  As he walked through the hallway, students were actually offering friendly greetings instead of looking away as if they feared that catching his eye might result in some admonishment. The hallways were festooned with banners and posters wishing the team the best of good fortune in the up-coming battle against the goliaths of boy’s soccer, St. Finbars High School of Delgany. He recalled that he had once been interviewed for the position of head master at that prestigious, male only, private institution.

  He had been impressed with their campus and facilities and the success of the soccer and rugby programs, perennial contenders for provincial and national honors ensured a strong school spirit. The alumni included many well-known figures from the world of politics and business who were committed, financially and otherwise, to the school’s continuing success. As a result, the pay was significantly better than what he could expect to earn with a county public school and he was sorely tempted to make the move. It had been a tough decision but Wicklow was a long way from his home in Louth and ultimately he decided there was something a bit pretentious about being a head master; he would rather be a principal.

  As he walked the halls of St. Killians he thought it ironic that these years later the dominance of Finbars was being challenged by this total dark horse from Louth. He could nearly imagine the head master of Finbars making the same walk. Mr. Freeman did not believe that the students of that school experienced the excitement of the Killians students; after all he had attended a school similar to Finbars. He sincerely doubted that the hallways were so elaborately decorated. The presence of girls with their enthusiasm and artistic talent was a bonus not enjoyed by all-boys schools. At Finbars, victory was not a hope, but an expectation. While the players might be particularly greeted that day, their supporters would say, “Do the business!” rather than “good luck!”

  All things considered, he far preferred the electric atmosphere of St. Killians, although in the unlikely event that they were successful, he would probably have to have his vice-principal, Pauline Dwyer, reshuffle the entire schedule so they could have some type of celebration… speaking of putting the cart before the horse.

  Just ahead, Mr. Freeman saw the boy of the moment, Brian O’Sullivan walking with Libby O’Donnell. He thought that the two, who were obviously good friends, made for a strange pair. Everyone they encountered wished young Brian good luck, patting him on the back or, in the case of several boys, thumping him on the arm. A few girls even gave him a good-luck kiss on the cheek. Brian went from one furious blush to the next mumbling his thanks under his breath, visibly embarrassed by the whole thing. Libby, on the other hand, seemed to accept the good wishes on his behalf, loudly thanking everyone and flashing her permanent smile. The two students, Mr. Freeman decided, were the most exciting additions to the student body that he could ever recall.

  With young Mr. O’Sullivan the reasons were more obvious. He was an incredible athletic talent but he was so shy and reserved that he displayed none of the ego and confidence that most anyone in similar circumstances might demonstrate. As a result, he was well like and well respected by nearly all the students. A few might be a bit jealous of his talents, but even the senior students accepted and protected him. Libby was also well liked and well protected but for an entirely different reason.

  When Mr. and Mrs. O’Donnell approached Mr. Freeman and suggested that although their elder daughter experienced Down syndrome, they wanted her to remain in the same classes as their younger daughter Kate, even though Kate was obviously a top student. Mr. Freeman had been reluctant at the time but allowed the arrangement more as an experiment than anything else. When the assessments were made several weeks after classes commenced, he expected to require a change.

  He recalled with amazement the uprising within his staff ranks, led by Pamela Byrne, her history teacher, and Nicola McElroy who taught religion, when he suggested that she be moved. He assumed that, at best, the young woman would sit quietly at her sister’s side and not disrupt the class, just as her parents promised. Mr. Freeman was surprised to learn that, according to these well-regarded teachers, Libby had become a valuable member of the class.

  It seemed that not only was she not a disruption but she frequently participated in class discussions. As Nicola put it, “Libby is not afraid to state the obvious which occasionally eludes more gifted students.” Pamela also explained that Libby brought a different perspective to class discussion and the result was a better learning experience for everyone. Both teachers agreed that other students would frequently tutor Libby, which helped them to better understand their own studies. The child would never be an honors student but she was learning and, amazingly enough, helping others to learn as well, so she was allowed to stay in the higher class.

  Mr. Freeman knew that Libby and Brian had been friends since their early days in grade school but he was still amazed to see them two together. Libby was vivacious, friendly, talkative, outgoing and totally lacking in any athletic ability while Brian was the exact opposite in every way. And yet, the two of them were not only friends but among the most popular students in the school. As Mr. Freeman continued down the hallway, he slowed his pace so that he could enjoy following their progress and their interaction with the other students.

  Eventually, he turned into the corridor leading to the staff room feeling as good as he had in some time. Seeing Rob Gunne who coached the girl’s teams and knew a thing or two about soccer, he asked, “So what is your honest opinion about our chances?”

  Rob turned from checking his pigeo
nhole and replied, “Honest huh. Well Harry has some pretty solid seniors but unfortunately none of them have much experience at this level. Of course, he has Brian O’Sullivan who has no experience at any level but is undoubtedly the best player any of us have ever seen. If Finbars can shut Brian down, we are in for a long evening.”

  Mr. Freeman nodded, appreciating the validity of the coach’s perspective. “On the other hand, no one seems to have been able to shut the young man down, even though he has been closely marked by two and three players.”

  “True enough,” Gunne agreed. “But then we haven’t played a team of Finbars quality. Several of their players have a chance to play professionally possibly even in England. And then there is the experience factor. Most of those boys are seniors and have been playing together, and winning competitions, for years. I would think that they could make it difficult on our young Brian.”

  “I see,” Freeman replied, his good feeling of the past several minutes gradually fading.

  Gunne continued, “And then there is our inexperience. Even if Brian opens them up, our strikers will still have to finish and we have missed our share of open nets.”

  Freeman sighed,“Well, Rob, thank you for your optimism. You have certainly given me a good feeling about our chances.”

  Gunne laughed, “Well you did say honestly. On the other hand, you never know and that is why these seemingly one-sided games are actually played. Maybe our boys will take it to a new level and with a bit of luck, you never know what might happen.”

  As Mr. Freeman headed for the couch where he hoped to enjoy his lunch, it was obvious that the majority of the staff did not share Gunne’s lack of optimism. The match was the sole topic of conversation and all the teachers were looking forward to attending and, hopefully, celebrating a victory afterwards.