Paper Crown

The black fedora sat at the edge of the shoe rack in a thrift shop that not a lot of people walked into.

The hat was not anything extraordinary but it still caught his eye. It was an impulsive purchase for thirteen dollars and fifty cents. The kind of thing you buy because it makes you smile for reasons you cannot explain.

He treated it like a project once he got home, brushed off years of dust from the felt, replaced the faded ribbon with a tan leather and tucked a peacock feather into the band.

The transformation was remarkable, the hat looked like it had some stories to tell.

It suited him and sat on his head like a crown and he wore it everywhere. From coffee shops to bookstores, the hat was a part of him. It made him look distinguished, not because it was expensive or fashionable, but because it felt like his.

One afternoon, as he was waiting for his bus, a stranger approached.

The man stared at the hat for a long moment. “That is a nice hat,” he said.

“Thank you kindly.”

“Can you give it to me?” the man’s eyes never wavered from the hat.

The owner laughed, thinking it was a joke, “What, why?”

The stranger stepped forward, he pointed at the feather “I like the feather, I like the hat, I want the hat”

The bus stop suddenly felt eerily quiet.

“No”

The stranger reached into his jacket and took out a knife. It was rusted on the blade’s edge, which somehow made it more scary. “Now” he said.

For a moment, nobody moved. The owner looked at the blade, then at the man, then back at the blade.

He thought about how ridiculous the situation was. Getting threatened over a thrift shop fedora.
Thirteen dollars and fifty cents.
A peacock feather.
A knife.
It made no sense.

Slowly he removed the hat. The stranger’s smile widened as the hat was handed over.

“See that was not so hard” he placed it over his head.

It looked terrible, the feather dropped sideways, the brim looked crooked. The hat rejected him immediately. The stranger did not notice. He walked away looking pleased.

A minute later, the bus arrived. The owner climbed aboard and sat by the window.

The bus rolled away, as it turned the corner, he spotted the stranger again.

The man was admiring himself in a coffee shop window.

Suddenly a strong wind gracefully lifted the oversized fedora off his head.

The stranger lunged to catch it in the air and missed.

The hat sailed over the street, as if in slow motion, landed on the middle of the road, a truck ran over it.

The stranger stood frozen in the road.

The owner watched through the bus window untill the scene disappeared.

Then he laughed.