When directed by Barker and Mimi’s humming little shack, Jack tries briefly to whistle in harmony with the humming emanating from the shed, catches a glance from Mimi which he can only assume is in regard to the high-pitched keening now emanating from his lips, before deciding it’s not much of a melody, and cutting it off. Even the briefest of moments spent whistling is quick to leave Jack’s lips chapped against the dry air. His smile might not falter or change, but Jack is all the more appreciative of even the sight of water when he enters Madison’s darkened hovel. He cocks his head to one side, arching an eyebrow at the ice cubes, which seems a tad much even for someone as cool as Jack.<br/><br/>Stepping forward away from his escort towards Madison, he inclines his head and his shoulders slightly in what might be a bow in more civilized society, and when questioned has to think for a minute.<br/><br/>“Lots.” he replies, “And nothing at all. It depends on what you mean by God. There’s the god we’d all like to believe in, the one who when you wish or pray or beg for something in this world to happen for you, or to you, something good, something better than what you are, and then it doesn’t. That’s the God people would like to know, because then they’d be able to ask in just the right way and actually get what they wanted. I don’t know anything about that god.”<br/><br/>Jack smiled the whole time, gesturing every now and again with his hands with a patient not quite patronizing tone, as if he were a prophet or scholar of old being questioned by a learned elder, though for all anyone knew he could be older than Ole’ Abe, Gomorrah’s oldest living resident.<br/><br/>“Then there’s the God we all know, and I know all there is to know about that God. That’s the God who doesn’t ask for prayers or worship or anything really. When the time is right, God just takes you by the hand, whispers in your ear, and then you walk with God forever.”<br/><br/>Jack is still smiling, despite the potentially blasphemous or downright morbid nature of his little speech, and beams from Madison to the wiry boy, to Mimi, to Barker in turn, then back around again in reverse order.