100 Tales: Black
The Kid was starting in on him again. Hannibal Heyes tried to rein in his temper and not snap, but his partner was trying his patience.
"Kid, forget it. I had this hat since we met. I ain't getting rid of it."
"That's my point. That thing's nearly four years old. And it's not like either of us could afford a good hat back then."
"This was the first hat I ever bought. It's fine."
The Kid glanced at Heyes from the corner of his eyes. "You know, an outlaw who can't even afford a decent hat's not gonna get much respect."
Heyes narrowed his eyes. "You're getting on my last nerve, partner."
"Just try this on and look in the mirror."
Hannibal Heyes put hands on hips. "Kid, that is a black hat. I am naturally dark-complexioned. People with dark hair and eyes need a light colored hat to play up their color. This is a well known fact in the fashion world."
"Humor me."
Heyes snatched the hat from the Kid's hands. He glared at it. What the hell was so wrong with his comfortable old brown hat anyhow? So it had a couple of threadbare spots ... maybe a little torn place or two. And there was that bullet hole from when Kyle was target shooting. He turned the hat in his hands.
It was stylish, no question about that. The band was brown leather, with random silver designs fastened onto it. They kinda reminded him of suits in a deck of cards. The only problem was the damn color.
He glanced back at his partner. The Kid crossed his arms and tilted his head. Heyes rolled his eyes. He clapped the hat onto his head and stomped over to the store's mirror.
"Now, young fella, that there hat looks fine on you." The shopkeeper, alert to a possible sale, followed him across the floor. Of course, he might just suspect the two of them of plotting to steal something.
Hannibal Heyes ignored the man and stared at his reflection through narrowed eyes. Just as he'd thought, he looked -- Heyes widened his eyes and took another look. Actually, he looked pretty damn good in black.
"Kid, forget it. I had this hat since we met. I ain't getting rid of it."
"That's my point. That thing's nearly four years old. And it's not like either of us could afford a good hat back then."
"This was the first hat I ever bought. It's fine."
The Kid glanced at Heyes from the corner of his eyes. "You know, an outlaw who can't even afford a decent hat's not gonna get much respect."
Heyes narrowed his eyes. "You're getting on my last nerve, partner."
"Just try this on and look in the mirror."
Hannibal Heyes put hands on hips. "Kid, that is a black hat. I am naturally dark-complexioned. People with dark hair and eyes need a light colored hat to play up their color. This is a well known fact in the fashion world."
"Humor me."
Heyes snatched the hat from the Kid's hands. He glared at it. What the hell was so wrong with his comfortable old brown hat anyhow? So it had a couple of threadbare spots ... maybe a little torn place or two. And there was that bullet hole from when Kyle was target shooting. He turned the hat in his hands.
It was stylish, no question about that. The band was brown leather, with random silver designs fastened onto it. They kinda reminded him of suits in a deck of cards. The only problem was the damn color.
He glanced back at his partner. The Kid crossed his arms and tilted his head. Heyes rolled his eyes. He clapped the hat onto his head and stomped over to the store's mirror.
"Now, young fella, that there hat looks fine on you." The shopkeeper, alert to a possible sale, followed him across the floor. Of course, he might just suspect the two of them of plotting to steal something.
Hannibal Heyes ignored the man and stared at his reflection through narrowed eyes. Just as he'd thought, he looked -- Heyes widened his eyes and took another look. Actually, he looked pretty damn good in black.