Jack’s gaze wandered while the vendor began to gush and trip over his tongue upon realizing who David was, he had seen this happen before and while he didn’t quite understand it, he knew it was just going to keep happening wherever they went so he might as well just be patient and wait for them to run out of breath.
Thankfully, it was over within moments and they were moving away from the fawning man before Jack could start to lose his newfound patience.
“Yer boots must be mighty clean,” he mused with some country humor, “havin’ so many people lickin’ ‘em like that.”
He stood back and observed the little sit, crouch, squat dance that David was doing, amusement written all over his face. It seemed as though they each had their own set of quirks that the other would find amusing, it left the door wide open for pranks on either side.
Sikora accepted the bun into his hand, looking it over curiously and recoiling from the awful smell it gave off.
“Sure hope it tastes better th’n it stinks,” he commented, seating himself on the curb without a fuss, “ah remember one time we actually had tah eat a big ol’ coyote fer supper. It was stringy and tough, but we were a long way off from any kinda town. He was real big too, coulda swallowed a man whole!”
In all his seriousness, Jack looked at David while he told the story as if he were recounting actual, true events. When in fact, the coyote was regular sized and had just wandered too close to them while they slept. Mathew had startled awake and fired his pistol at the curious animal and while they had been hungry enough to at least cook the body, none of them had eaten more than a bite or two.
Taking his first overly large mouthful of hotdog, Jack looked pleasantly surprised. It wasn’t great, but it wasn’t bad either.
“Yah waited til ah was chewin’ b’fore yah said that, didn’t yah?” Jack spoke again after he’d swallowed, “yah tellin’ me these here are pig and cow wieners now?”
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