Episode 104 – Funny How Nice They Get When the Bully Ain’t Looking…

Before noon last Saturday, a car rolled in, music pounding like it thought it was auditioning for a nightclub. I didn’t recognize it. It swung around the house, then stopped down at the bend in the lane, Bully’s favorite drop-off point for his cattle crew. From my window, it looked like the car had parked itself right in the middle of the lane, like it owned the place.

At first, I shrugged it off and went back to my chores. But an hour later, that thing was still there, stubborn as a bad habit. Now, I’ve seen plenty of Bully’s tricks, but even for him, this was sloppy. I was getting a bit nervous.

So I picked up the phone. Saul didn’t answer. Rang my neighbor instead, and bless him, he stayed on the line while I played detective.

And what do I find? My very own nephew, passed out in the car, swimming in the fumes of last night’s liquid courage.

When he stirred, he was polite. Gentle. Sweet as sugar pie. The kind of young man you’d be proud to bring to dinner. But here’s the rub, when Bully’s around, that boy wouldn’t dare talk to me. Won’t look, won’t speak, won’t even grunt a hello. The silence is so heavy, you’d think Bully was charging rent on words.

And isn’t that the way with shadows? Some folks cast them so wide, everyone else forgets they’ve got their own light. They shrink down, bite their tongues, and hide their real selves just to keep the peace.

But today, I got a glimpse of the boy without the mask. A reminder that silence isn’t always rudeness, sometimes it’s survival.

Later, I finally got Saul on the phone. He was off in Dublin on business and apologized for missing my call. When I told him the whole story, he just hummed and asked, “When’s the last time you saw our nephews’ old car?” I said maybe three months ago. And wouldn’t you know, he tells me the Gardai rang him back then about a car accident (RTI). He told them, “Not my son.” Well, turns out Bully’s household has its own collection of secrets, and they don’t all fit under the rug.

As Granny Frass would say: “Every family’s got skeletons, honey, some just like to drive themselves up your lane and take a nap.”

And me? I’ll take the kindness where I can get it. Even if it shows up hungover and smelling of last night.

Mae🧡