Mirage 2016 ALMOST TWINS
3
Michael Erickson
It was just a old wore-out grey Fedora that Uncle Jon lost in that storm. He come out of the barn and, as he turned to slide the door shut, the wind kicked up and stole his hat. It was late in the month of June. That's when the summer storms start up around here. And the year probably would have been around nineteen and seventy-three or so. Uncle Jon liked that hat. He loved that hat. He felt that it fit him quite well. It was a comfortable and sturdy hat. Indeed, that hat had served him well for quite a few years. As far back as I can recall, it was firmly affixed upon his head. That old hat was a bit more than broke in. It was just about wore out. When it was new, it was almost white. But over the years it took on a few different shades. The sweat stains had colored a goodly part of the brim and band a mix of grey and brown. The underside of the brim was well colored, and scented by the smoke from the ever-present Drum or Bugler cigarette that hung from his lip. The crown was cracked in several places, and the whole thing was decorated with a multitude of odd stains and tears. It was an old wore-out grey fedora. His brother Jerome had come out from Oklahoma to visit him a few years before this tale takes place and, when he saw the sorry state of Jon's hat, he set about to buying him a new one. Jon thanked Jerome for the hat, and later that evening he stashed it away on the back of the top shelf of his closet. He took it out a few times. He wore it to Sophie’s wedding and Jim Bob's funeral. Eventually, he started wearing it to church. Now us cousins, we had us a running bet to see which one of us could “accidentally” knock off his hat. We had convinced ourselves that, despite his full beard and bushy eyebrows, he very likely was bald, and he wore the hat to hide the truth. We need to get back to the story. Don't we? In its own mysterious way, the wind, oh so carefully, plucked up that hat from his head that Uncle Jon barely noticed it. Until it was too late. That wind carried it better than eight miles and, oh so gently, set it down on the front porch of Pearl’s house.
