I don't know. [He says it uncertainly, as if the idea that men being "safe" wasn't normal rather than the other way around, some implicit threat to be around and one couldn't even find protection under the clause of family. His gaze darts to and fro, around the room and to the cat which has now settled on a broad ladder step to his attic.]

I meet a lot of men that are bullies. My father was one. A lot of soldiers were bullies. A lot of mobsters were bullies. The cops, especially this.

Ever since I was a little kid. But you seem easy going. Like my friend Jacob, but more sad and less marijuana. Still smoking something, though. You're a good person to be around. [But he's still sounding uneasy, as if he's having to reconsider how normal that is. He's trying not to think that could be wrong and he just knows a lot of terrible people. Right now it feels better to make how Boone or Jacob behave the special case ]