The Legends (38 page)

“You see what I mean,” Maeve said as the three watched this very attractive couple spinning with clear expertise. “Nothing a little TLC wouldn’t cure.”

When the dance was over, Siobhán dragged Chad over to where her friends gathered around Brian’s chair. “You see,” she said, “and we were all worried about him when all he needed was a little push.”

Chad quickly regained his confidence and putting his hand out to shake Brian’s he said, “Again, great job old man. I was going to stop over earlier but it’s tough to fight off the crowds.” Brian shook Chad’s hand noticing that his grip had improved significantly since the first time they met.

Brian responded, “Thanks Chad. What I would give to be able to dance like you. You look like you should be on television or something.”

“Well, you did get injured playing soccer, so you can hardly dance,” Chad replied stressing the “playing soccer.” To anyone other than Brian the comment might have sounded slightly bitter, but that didn’t seem to be what Brian noticed.

“Even if I were fit as a fiddle, I couldn’t even begin to dance like that. Where did you learn those moves?” he asked.

Chad hesitated blushing slightly. “Mom and Dad,” Charlie interjected. “Especially Mom. She a great one for proper social behavior and she thinks dancing is a great social skill but Chad took to it better than I.”

“It is a great social skill,” Siobhán added quickly, “and Chad is excellent.”

“My Mom tried to teach me as well,” Brian said in sympathy with Chad, “but if I listen to the music, I can’t think about what to do with my hands and feet and if I think about my hands and feet, I don’t seem to hear the music.”

Suddenly appreciating his superiority in a least one discipline, Chad responded magnanimously, “Well, perhaps Siobhán and I could give some lessons, when you recover of course. It might be an interesting way to pass a cold, wet winter’s evening.”

“I don’t think even you could help my dancing,” Brian replied, “but if the gang is willing, I will give it a try.”

“Sure why not,” Maeve added. “Might be a bit of fun.”

Siobhán looked over at Kate and Libby who had just rejoined the group and when Kate agreed and Libby clapped her hands in delight. “Right then,” Siobhán stated, “in a few weeks when things get back to normal we will open the school.”

Chad smiled broadly apparently pleased that the group would be learning from him, or perhaps that at least for the moment he was even a part of the group.

Kate, meanwhile, stood back with her arms folded, studying Brian. What an incredible boy he was. And not just the athletics, which she knew defied explanation. How could anyone be so incredible nice? The only person she knew that was nicer than Brian was Libby, but then sometimes Libby didn’t know any better. Maybe Brian, like Libby, was slightly challenged but she hardly thought that possible because, apart from athletics, in every other respect he was perfectly normal. He was just so incredibly nice, or perhaps, she decided, naïve might be the better description. The problem with that, as Kate well knew from her years with Libby, was that people who were too nice, or too naïve could easily be taken advantage of or even hurt without ever realizing it was happening.

It was clear to Kate, and she thought to anyone else who cared to pay attention, that Chad was very jealous of Brian and had been even before Brian’s athletic talent was revealed. Why? Because Chad, despite all his apparent confidence was insecure and unhappy with himself while Brian, shy and quiet Brian, was comfortable with himself. Chad tried too hard to impress his friends and was unsuccessful while Brian didn’t try at all but was completely successful. Chad was tolerated while Brian was well liked. As a result she really didn’t think Chad liked Brian very much, but that was completely lost on Brian because he was so incredibly nice, or so naïve.

The dance business was a perfect example. Just by being himself, Brian had drawn Chad back into the group by flattering him about Chad’s ability, and his own inability, to dance. He had restored Chad’s confidence, and probably bravado, and yet, Kate knew for certain that Brian’s reaction was not calculated, he was just being Brian, just being nice. “Brian, Brian Brian,” Kate thought to herself, “What are we going to do with you.”

Kate was shaken from her reverie by Libby, who suggested that all those fit enough should have a group dance. Brian could watch how it was done.

That sounded like a great idea, especially to Chad who would be surrounded by five beautiful girls. As they headed out onto the dance floor, Chad, fully a head taller than the girls, looked around to be sure that others at the party saw what was happening. Brian sat in his chair, smiling happily and clapping his hands to what he thought was the beat of the music.

The following day Brian awoke to the not unpleasant feel of Gráinne’s long tongue licking his face. He was surprised to see that it was light out because usually this time of year he awoke before sunrise, even on Saturdays. Brian remembered that it was well past midnight before he went to bed and concluded that he had probably just been very tired.

As Brian stretched he recalled the dream he experienced that night. Brian did not consider himself a dreamer, or if he did dream – he had learned that everyone dreams – he hardly ever remembered what his dreams were about. Usually he was asleep the minute his head hit the pillow, slept soundly and awoke bright and early in the morning remembering nothing about his sleep. That was the reason his dream the past night was so clearly etched in his memory.

Brian closed his eyes and remembered that his dream found him back in Celtic times just like he studied in Miss Byrne’s history class. He remembered all kinds of strange people like a tall man dressed in a long flowing purple robe trimmed in gold with two huge moustaches falling over the edges of his mouth. The tall man was standing next to him with his arms crossed and a stern look on his face as if he were protecting Brian from someone or something. Brian also remembered a number of women, dressed in woolen skirts, whose heads were covered with woolen shawls. They seemed to be mixing something like nuts and herbs in small bowls and they were chanting all kinds of strange things.

Brian seemed to be in the middle of everything sitting in a leather reclining chair, just like at the Pembroke’s, with his legs up on the footrest. Now that was really strange because he was quite sure they didn’t have leather recliners in Celtic Ireland. In his dream he had no idea where he was, or what was going on because it was so strange, but somehow it wasn’t at all scary. As a result he wasn’t the slightest bit afraid and it all seemed so comfortable and safe.

Thinking about his dream caused Brian to begin to doze again, but this time Gráinne’s licking was a bit more urgent, accompanied by a low whine. Brian reached over and scratched his dog’s ear. “All right, girl,” he said, “I’ll get up now but couldn’t you let me get a few more hours of sleep, just this one time.”

As he pushed the duvet back, Brian looked over at his alarm clock and was shocked to see that it was already well past noon. At first he thought that perhaps the clock had stopped because he never, ever, slept for twelve hours but it was light out and the clock was definitely running so he must have really slept it out. Brian pushed the covers off and jumped out of bed stretching as he did so. Twelve hours, he kept thinking to himself. I slept for twelve hours.

Brian took a couple of steps toward his bedroom door, intent on visiting the toilet, when he nearly tripped over one of the crutches he used the previous night. Looking down at the crutch reminded him of his injury and he immediately reached down placing a hand on either side of his right knee. Whatever swelling he had experienced the previous night was definitely gone. He flexed his leg back and forth, and could not even feel a twinge. Deciding to push a little further he squatted down, easily returning to a standing position without the slightest discomfort. After that he jumped up and down a couple of times but still… no pain and no stiffness. It was as if he had never been injured.

Smiling to himself, Brian thought that was the best possible news. It never occurred to him that his recovery was anything out of the ordinary, rather he just assumed that he was a quick healer and probably hadn’t been injured that badly in the first place. Thinking no more about it, he went into the bathroom and took a long hot shower, suddenly looking forward to the visits he planned for the day.

Evelyn smiled when she heard the shower amazed that Brian had finally arisen. She had nearly gone in to check on him because she knew her son never slept so late. Evelyn decided to give it a few more minutes because she figured that between the match and the party he must have been exhausted, although in truth she had never seen that either. In any case, the rest would certainly do his knee no harm. “Breakfast,” she said to herself. “A great fry-up is just the ticket.”

Several minutes later Brian emerged through the kitchen door, his red-blonde hair still damp from the shower. “Mom,” he announced giving her a big hug and twirling her around as he often did, “That smells gerrrrate.”

Evelyn smiled happily but stopped short the minute her feet hit the ground. “Brian, your knee,” she exclaimed.

“No worries,” he replied, “it feels great, like nothing happened.”

“But it was badly swollen last night,” she said as she reached down and placed her hands on his knees, first one and then the other. Evelyn quickly determined that there was no difference between the two.

“I must be a quick healer,” Brian replied as he took a long drink of milk and began to eat the corn flakes that his mother put out to start.

Evelyn returned her attention to the stove putting the finishing touches on the breakfast, complete with two eggs cooked just like Brian preferred.

“I still think we should have it looked at,” she replied, at the same time realizing that, considering her son’s ancestry and amazing talents, she should not have been surprised at his remarkable recovery.

“We’d be thrown out of the surgery,” Brian replied with a laugh. “There is nothing at all wrong with me. Watch.” With that he jumped up from his chair and began a wild dance around the kitchen throwing his legs every which way. He concluded with his interpretation of a Cossack dance doing deep knee bends and throwing his legs out. He wasn’t very good at it so eventually he fell on his bottom while Evelyn could only laugh in amazement.

Cathal, wondering what the commotion was all about, arrived just in time to see the dance and, like Evelyn, his immediate concern was the knee. Rather than saying anything he looked quizzically at his wife. “Cured, it would appear,” she said through her laughter. “You know our Brian. Now here’s something to keep you going,” she concluded handing Brian his breakfast.

“Remarkable,” Cathal muttered as he returned to his study.

When Brian finished breakfast and put his dishes in the dishwasher, he grabbed a ball and his hurley, whistled for Gráinne and headed for the door. As had been his normal mode of travel since his earliest days, Brian did not merely run from one place to another, rather he ran balancing the ball on his hurley or smacking it high into the air and then sprinting forward to catch it before it hit the ground. Gráinne, meanwhile, would run along next to him and part of Brian’s challenge was to handle the hurling ball despite her bumps along the way.

Brian’s first stop, just down the road, was at the Blessington's. It had been some time since his last practice session with Mr. Blessington but he frequently called in and talked soccer with his first true coach. As always, Mr. Blessington was delighted to see him and welcomed Brian and Gráinne into his kitchen.

“Well my friend,” Nigel began, “I saw the match the other day and I must say I was very impressed with your performance.”

Brian looked at Mr. Blessington in surprise, “you were there? Why didn’t you come down after the match?”

“Well, I was going to,” Nigel replied, “but then you seemed to be surrounded by a bevy of beauties and I certainly didn’t want to get in your way.”

“Ah no,” Brian said blushing slightly, “those are just my mates. They wouldn’t have minded at all.”

Nigel smiled, “Your mates huh. I don’t recall having such good looking mates when I was your age.”

“Ah Mr. Blessington,” Brian said again blushing.

“Anyway,” Nigel said, “the match wasn’t that great with the way Finbars played, but what came over you at the end.”

After confessing to the girls and getting a general idea as to what had occurred, Brian decided that he would have to come up with some reasonable explanation rather than telling anyone else that he didn’t remember. Even Mr. Blessington might think that his spacing out would be very strange. “I don’t really know,” Brian began honestly. “You know they were hacking at me from the first whistle and I guess eventually I just lost my temper. Especially after they speared my knee from behind. You know, I have always made the pass, just like you taught me, but for some reason, I just couldn’t let Finbars win because of the way they played.”

Mr. Blessington stroked his chin considering what Brian told him. “That is just about what I thought,” he replied.

“You know,” Brian continued, “I think I wouldn’t mind losing if the match was sporting and both teams played honorably, but I guess I sat there on the stretcher and got madder and madder as I saw the clock ticking. Do you think I did the wrong thing Mr. Blessington?”

“No,” Nigel replied. “I can completely understand what happened and I suppose if I were in your shoes, I would have done the same thing. You should know, however, that you have created a whole new set of problems for yourself.”

“And how is that?” Brian asked, genuinely puzzled.

“You see Brian,” Nigel explained, “before that match the press was beginning to take notice of you because of your skills and teamwork, which was only to be expected. I even heard about you from people that I know in soccer circles, but the general consensus was that you were a promising talent that everyone should keep an eye on for the future.”

“I guess I knew that,” Brian said modestly. “I know I was in the paper and some of the kids at school made a big deal out of it. That is one of the reasons I hang around with my gang who I have known for ages. I guess I never thought much about what other people might think.”