"Well, I reckon we can do that," he smiles gently. "There's strays and housecats around town. How d'you feel about chickens? As long as we keep 'em off your bees, I mean. They're friendlier than you'd think."
Cricket likes chickens just as much as he likes cats, which is a little unusual. He'll still eat fried chicken, or scrambled eggs, but he'll pick up and cuddle a bird, too, if it'll let him.
He takes note of how Hugh moves around and does the work. His hands are delicate in a way Cricket would normally associate with wealth and privilege, but in this instance, he doesn't think that's the case. Captivity, maybe, or city life, where the opportunity to work with his fingers hasn't come to him yet. He's young, too. There's no shame in it, but Cricket will be very careful about what he assigns him to do, making sure it's within his abilities before he leaves him to manage on his own.
But he's a smart kid, clearly, and eager to try, and that will take him a long, long way. It works, and aside from the fact that what they're doing is technically illegal and Cricket is therefore contributing to the delinquency of a minor, it seems like a decent pastime for the boy.
When Hugh blurts out his warning, Cricket is just about ready to sit down and take a short break, content that the stills are running right. He turns and blinks at him, surprised, and then frowns in thought. It's a different twist on the 'people handling orphans' Hugh mentioned earlier, but after consideration, Cricket can see how it might happen. A boy with bees in his belly is strange enough, either someone wants to keep him out of trouble or make money with what he can do.
It's already occurred to Cricket that Hugh could earn a decent living with his bees. Farmers will pay to have hives brought into their fields and orchards. It wouldn't be right for Cricket to use that, try and make the kid into a cash cow. He wouldn't force it, and he certainly wouldn't treat the kid like a slave and pocket any money for himself. If anything, he'd like to see them collaborate, like friends.
If there's anything at all more to being a a Peculiar that might be deliberately misused, Cricket's oblivious, but he knows where money is concerned, people get mean.
"You know what they call this place?" He sits and beckons Hugh over with a little smile. "The Wettest County in the World. There's these stills all over, even though it's against the law. Because in Franklin, we're stubborn, and we don't do what outsiders tell us to. We don't lay down for nobody."
"And it's hard for revenue agents to find these places," he says. "On account of no one local will help 'em, and the mountains is so old there's holes and caves and trails and hiding-places everywhere. Hugh, there ain't nowhere better for you and your bees to hide."
"On top of that, if you're part a of us, we look after our own. You look a little like me. Same eye color, same hair color. We tell people you're my kin, and ain't no one gonna question that. And if your bees are helpin' people--well, I think slow, careful introductions would be safer, to make sure no one's scared, but I reckon people will always protect the ones that are kin to 'em, and helping 'em."
"It wouldn't just be me helping you, and people who cause trouble for this community, they get run out of town real fast."
Or worse. But Cricket doesn't want to tell the kid if strangers come in after him they may well get murdered. That may be a little too much.
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timeasmymeasure
no problem! glad to see you back.
Date: 2019-06-01 06:14 pm (UTC)Cricket likes chickens just as much as he likes cats, which is a little unusual. He'll still eat fried chicken, or scrambled eggs, but he'll pick up and cuddle a bird, too, if it'll let him.
He takes note of how Hugh moves around and does the work. His hands are delicate in a way Cricket would normally associate with wealth and privilege, but in this instance, he doesn't think that's the case. Captivity, maybe, or city life, where the opportunity to work with his fingers hasn't come to him yet. He's young, too. There's no shame in it, but Cricket will be very careful about what he assigns him to do, making sure it's within his abilities before he leaves him to manage on his own.
But he's a smart kid, clearly, and eager to try, and that will take him a long, long way. It works, and aside from the fact that what they're doing is technically illegal and Cricket is therefore contributing to the delinquency of a minor, it seems like a decent pastime for the boy.
When Hugh blurts out his warning, Cricket is just about ready to sit down and take a short break, content that the stills are running right. He turns and blinks at him, surprised, and then frowns in thought. It's a different twist on the 'people handling orphans' Hugh mentioned earlier, but after consideration, Cricket can see how it might happen. A boy with bees in his belly is strange enough, either someone wants to keep him out of trouble or make money with what he can do.
It's already occurred to Cricket that Hugh could earn a decent living with his bees. Farmers will pay to have hives brought into their fields and orchards. It wouldn't be right for Cricket to use that, try and make the kid into a cash cow. He wouldn't force it, and he certainly wouldn't treat the kid like a slave and pocket any money for himself. If anything, he'd like to see them collaborate, like friends.
If there's anything at all more to being a a Peculiar that might be deliberately misused, Cricket's oblivious, but he knows where money is concerned, people get mean.
"You know what they call this place?" He sits and beckons Hugh over with a little smile. "The Wettest County in the World. There's these stills all over, even though it's against the law. Because in Franklin, we're stubborn, and we don't do what outsiders tell us to. We don't lay down for nobody."
"And it's hard for revenue agents to find these places," he says. "On account of no one local will help 'em, and the mountains is so old there's holes and caves and trails and hiding-places everywhere. Hugh, there ain't nowhere better for you and your bees to hide."
"On top of that, if you're part a of us, we look after our own. You look a little like me. Same eye color, same hair color. We tell people you're my kin, and ain't no one gonna question that. And if your bees are helpin' people--well, I think slow, careful introductions would be safer, to make sure no one's scared, but I reckon people will always protect the ones that are kin to 'em, and helping 'em."
"It wouldn't just be me helping you, and people who cause trouble for this community, they get run out of town real fast."
Or worse. But Cricket doesn't want to tell the kid if strangers come in after him they may well get murdered. That may be a little too much.