It was at about this time that Murphy MacManus started to realize that his brother had been acting funny. He'd been looking rather tired for weeks now, and he'd been doing… or not doing… some very strange things.
When Connor went to get a shower that afternoon Murphy sat down at the table next to his Dad and had it out.
"Da, have ye noticed that Connor isn't himself?"
"Whaddya mean he isn't himself?" Da popped open a beer and handed it to Murphy.
"What does he do at night?"
"Sleep doesn't he?"
"He's been sleeping at odd times for weeks now. He never sleeps that long."
"You think he's sick?"
"No, I think he's not telling me something." Murphy lit a cigarette.
"Maybe he's not ready to."
"It's not just his sleeping Da… when's the last time you saw him smoke?"
"Well…. Wasn't it just yesterday?"
"No Da, Connor didn't smoke yesterday. He didn't smoke the day before and he hasn't smoked all week. And I know that because I'm the only one buying cigarettes."
"Well one would think that might not be such a bad thing."
"And he's gone in the morning Da." Here in the conversation Da put his beer down. He stared at Murphy really hard.
"Gone?"
"Gone." Murphy shrugged helplessly. "I can't find him anywhere in the house, and he doesn't come back for hours."
"Where does he go?"
"I dunno." Said Murph sadly.
"Dunno what Murph?" said Connor from the door way. Murph and Da straightened in their chairs.
"I dunno where you go in the morning." Said Murphy.
"Where I go in the morning?"
"Yeah, when you're not here," Murphy took a swig of beer.
"Well I've been going to the church a lot. Praying you know." Said Connor uncomfortably. Murphy offered him a cigarette. Connor turned it down.
"Did God tell you to quit smoking as well?" Murph snapped the cigarette case shut.
"No, I just haven't felt like it lately." Connor shifted from one foot to another, and then grabbed a beer from the refrigerator.
Da put a hand on Murphy's. Murphy looked up at him and saw it in his face that Da wanted him to let it slide. So Murphy did. For now…
