He sees that look, down to his leg braces and back, and there's a subtle shift in his posture, back drawing up straighter. Not everyone comments on it, and of the ones who do comment, only about half are rude, but a man has to be ready for these things. It's a mild but pleasant surprise that Jasper doesn't say anything; even more so that there's nothing overtly pitying or amused in his eyes when he looks back. That's the way to earn a measure of Cricket's respect; he doesn't say anything, but gives the slightest nod of acknowledgement.
And then laughs. "Hell of a disguise, if I was." He shakes his head. "Just don't go telling your last name and your family business and I reckon you'll be a'ight. Not like you're gonna be in this place for long anyway."
Mind you, Jack isn't shy about his family name, but that's because Bondurant carries a lot of weight, even this far outside Franklin County. That might have a lot to do with Floyd Banner, or his men.
"Help yourself," he encourages, waving lightly toward the thermos. "I drank th' first half. If Jackie ain't claimed his share by now, he ain't gonna and it's his loss."
He frowns a little at the question, not from displeasure, necessarily, just thinking it over. There's a thoughtful look a lot of Appalachian locals get when you ask them something that treads on the line between small talk and prying, like they need a minute to chew the question over and decide if you're worthy of a real answer. The community can be tight-knit, and close-mouthed.
"Well," Cricket says at length, "it ain't that simple. Local cops used to be good with it. Give 'em a case here and there, or a little taste of the profit--that's just good business. Got some problems with a U.S. Marshall right now, though. He wants a lot more money, and some bootlicking on top of it. A lot of the moonshiners've folded, giving him what he asks. The Bondurants haven't, and they ain't gonna."
He glances over his shoulder at Jack, brow slightly creased as if with concern. "Bondurants don't lay down for nobody. Ain't a pretty business, though. Not right now."
"It is a thing to see in the dark, though," he smiles faintly. "All the little fires lighting up the sides of the hills where the stills are running overnight."
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2020-10-27 02:43 am (UTC)And then laughs. "Hell of a disguise, if I was." He shakes his head. "Just don't go telling your last name and your family business and I reckon you'll be a'ight. Not like you're gonna be in this place for long anyway."
Mind you, Jack isn't shy about his family name, but that's because Bondurant carries a lot of weight, even this far outside Franklin County. That might have a lot to do with Floyd Banner, or his men.
"Help yourself," he encourages, waving lightly toward the thermos. "I drank th' first half. If Jackie ain't claimed his share by now, he ain't gonna and it's his loss."
He frowns a little at the question, not from displeasure, necessarily, just thinking it over. There's a thoughtful look a lot of Appalachian locals get when you ask them something that treads on the line between small talk and prying, like they need a minute to chew the question over and decide if you're worthy of a real answer. The community can be tight-knit, and close-mouthed.
"Well," Cricket says at length, "it ain't that simple. Local cops used to be good with it. Give 'em a case here and there, or a little taste of the profit--that's just good business. Got some problems with a U.S. Marshall right now, though. He wants a lot more money, and some bootlicking on top of it. A lot of the moonshiners've folded, giving him what he asks. The Bondurants haven't, and they ain't gonna."
He glances over his shoulder at Jack, brow slightly creased as if with concern. "Bondurants don't lay down for nobody. Ain't a pretty business, though. Not right now."
"It is a thing to see in the dark, though," he smiles faintly. "All the little fires lighting up the sides of the hills where the stills are running overnight."