Shanagolden was just a little hole-in-the-road sort of town. It had its local businesses, of course, but nothing to draw in the tourists like Limerick or Adare. When one did happen to wander in and inquire about something, any local was likely to just look at them askance, wondering how this person had possibly ended up there, and respond, "Not in Shanagolden. You'll want to go to Askeaton for that."
The few who did stop in the town, usually needed only to deal with two families, the Murphy's and the O'Keefe's. The Murphy's would fix the flat tire they had invevitably gotten when they had tried to parallel park on the unfamiliar streets, and the O'Keefe's would serve them a pint over a bite of food while they waited. And Murphy's Garage and O'Keefe's Pub were located conveniently close together.
At the first they were generally greeted by Danny Murphy, a handsome middle-aged man with thick brown hair and bright blue eyes. Often his urchins tramped around under his feet, little grease monkeys in training.
Connor, the oldest, was quite the charmer with his brown hair and big green eyes. He was a smiling, mischievous boy, like all of the Murphy children,, but he watched his father carefully, attentive and eager to help and to learn.
Rory, five years younger, also tried his hand at helping around the garage. Being just as eager but a tad less careful and experience, he was normally covered in grease. Most of the time this hid the slight resemblance he had to his mother, having inherited reddish-brown hair. Once he walked into the garage, it seemed like grease and dirt was attracted to him like metal shavings to a magnet.
The youngest of the Murphy clasn, two year's Rory's junior, was precious little Bria. Well, precious in her da's eyes anyway. She after Connor and her da in appearance. During the first few summers she was allowed to stay in the garage with the boys, customers saw a sweet little girl sitting on the floor next to the car her da was working on, her hair pulled up with a pretty little bow. She wore a simple, easy-to-wash dress while she reached into the tool box and handed gadgets to the pair of legs and hand that stuck out from beneath the car. Then the parents lost the dress argument and forever after they saw only a grease-smudged little firecat wearing shorts and an old shirt, her hair pulled back into a ponytail and rapping the boys knuckles with a wrench if they ever tried to take away any of her duties.
The last member of the family, though customers rarely saw her ,in the shop, was Sive. The elegant, auborn-haired woman spent most of her time in her home, teaching other's children to step dance. When she could drag them away from the garage, she taught her own children as well. And somehow she managed to be successful, for she knot only taught all three of them to dance, but she took them to competitions as well. Along with her own three, she often took Corrigan O'Keefe as well, their neighbor who was considered as good as another son.
Corrigan was bright and handsome and friendly. He had dark brown hair and eyes and a lithe, athletic frame from the time he was fairly young. Along with everything else, he was also talented at sports, and, though he didn't pick u the dancing quite as well as his friend Rory, he was better at just about any other sport, and he was well-liked by the other kids in school.
The Murphy's were like a family to him, but his own was comprised of three others, his grandmother, Tallulah, and his parents.
His grandmother was one of those active sorts and she considered herself more than capable of running her pub well into old age. That's where she could be found most of the time, in the kitchen of the dark building, cooking meals for her patrons. She was a frank but friendly sort, and respected in the community.
On the other hand, most wondered how she had ever come to be mother to her oldest son, Brendon. He was strangely absent from the pub. Some mused it was because he had a tendency to have a bit too much of the drink taken. He worked in construction instead. He had a temper and didn't keep workers long. In fact, Brendon O'Keefe couldn't keep anyone around for long. Not even his wife, Vanessa, though she stayed in Shanagolden for a while.
She was a blonde, beautiful lady who greeted people when they walked past the pink painted exterior of the pub to the cozy atmosphere inside. It wasn't uncommon to see young Corrigan helping his ma out during the busy times, but she always gave the impression of being someone who had come from, and who was meant for, someplace much more glamorous than Shanagolden.