Bart's eyes track the hand as it comes toward him, then fall again when Max thinks better of it. It's better that way; if he did make contact, Bart isn't sure he wouldn't just break down again on the spot.

Instead he scans the table once more and reaches for something looks like an attempt at a pickled garnish, like one of the women with her home canning operation really wanted to try and do something fancy with her stock.

"I thought I was learning how to do that a little at a time here, but it seems like every time I turn around, something terrible has happened. I'm..." He trails off before he can finish that thought: I'm afraid of everything except the wildlife now. Instead he continues, "I don't want to take you away from anything more important. You're new, so you must have come with the ferryman's last group. You're almost certainly going to need time to recuperate. Before anyone starts asking anything of you."