The Man in the Myth

Chapter 1

He didn't give a two-pence for the stories of all the threats that would happen to little children who wandered into the forest. He was a boy. He could protect himself. He was sure of it.

He took a step away from the headmaster, ready to bolt for the forest he had been thinking about. He had heard the legend of Robin Hood and though he knew that the man wasn't real, he figured he would go to the woods and start a band of warriors himself. He would fight for those who were being hurt and oppressed, he decided.

He tugged on the collar again.

And he would free anyone forced to wear a collar.

Then he saw her.

The little girl caught his attention and the little boy couldn't seem to pull his eyes off of her.

Suddenly every part of the boy wanted to show off for the girl. Frantically he thought about what he might be able to do to show her how cool he actually was.

He could do a handstand. He was actually really good at a handstand, he had even been learning to take a couple steps with his hands. He could do that.

Or he could whistle. He could whistle something fierce.

Or perhaps he could run. He could show her how fast he could run.

"Mr. Cromwell, focus." The headmaster ordered, turning the boy's head away from the girl and back to the master blacksmith they were currently visiting.

The little boy felt the blood flush his cheeks as the embarrassment hit him. He didn't want the little girl to hear that name. He hated that name.

The little boy stared straight ahead for a moment, before risking a quick look back. The little girl was still there and this time she was looking at him.

The boy turned back quickly, not sure what to do, but after only a few seconds he stole a second look and then a third.

The headmaster suddenly gripped the little boy's shoulder, inflicting pain as he practically pulled the boy away from the blacksmith.

Once away from the blacksmith, the headmaster cuffed the boy on the ears, over and over until the boy was forced to react and try to protect his ears from the buffets of the older man.

"I told you to focus, you Irish cur." The headmaster always resorted back to the little boy's heritage when he needed to inflict severe punishment on the child. The headmaster boxed the boy's ears, waiting for the child to apologize for being an inconvenience. "I will hear your apology." The headmaster demanded.

The boy tried to be brave and tried to hold out, but the pain became almost unbearable.

He didn't know that his bravery and strength were not weakened by caving into the demands of an abusive adult. All he knew was that he had lost because he could not hold out.

"I'm sorry, headmaster." The little boy finally choked out.

"You will be." The headmaster boxed the child's ears one more time, before straightening up and turning around. "Come along."

The boy, with his ears still ringing, stuck his tongue out at the back of the headmaster.

A light giggle bubbled out of the eight-year-old's mouth. She covered her mouth quickly when the little blonde boy looked at her. He knew the girl had seen what had happened, and he could feel the heat rising on his cheeks. Even with the embarrassment, the boy liked the response he got from the girl.

He started to follow the headmaster, mocking the way the older man walked, and being rewarded with another laugh from the little girl.

Sensing something amiss the headmaster turned around, but the little boy snapped back into the perfect posture. Carefully studying the boy to see if he was somehow misbehaving, the headmaster stood still for a moment before finally spinning around.