“They add an inch to you,” said Zeke, looking Cal up and down. Cal felt bright all over, as though Zeke’s gaze had healing powers. “What are you, five-eight? Well, now you’re five-nine.”
Zeke stood up and put Cal’s prison sneakers in the boot books, then led Cal to the counter where Maddy had laid out a small selection of pale straw cowboy hats. Cal didn’t know much about cowboy hats, any more than he did the boots, but he touched each hat as if he’d seen plenty of them, and knew what to look for.
“This one’s nice,” Zeke said as he touched the narrow brim of the first hat. “Or this one.” He touched the next hat.
“Simpler is better, I always say,” said Zeke, as if approving of the second hat.
Cal took a closer look at the narrow leather hat band and the small silver arrow that seemed to be functioning as a buckle. The crown of the hat had three or so narrow cutout shapes that reminded Cal of blades of grass.
“I’ll take this one,” he said.
The clerk came over, as if sensing that the selections had been made. In his hands, he carried a glass box, which he placed on the counter.
“You guys about ready?” he asked. “And Maddy, when are we going to get a proper podium for this? I’m always worried it’s going to get knocked over.”
“There was no room for it in the tavern,” Maddy said, reaching out to it as though greeting a long-lost friend.
In the box was a pair of leather moccasins that looked old, and there were even places where the leather had worn through, along where the big toes would be. The leather had beadsstitched across the front, long and short, all of them shiny, done in patterns, and looking brand new.
Cal had never owned a pair of moccasins, but thought they looked cool. He almost reached for the moccasins, though he knew full well that these weren’t on sale.
“You like those?” asked Maddy. “They belonged to a Native American woman who lived in these parts long ago. She was called Summer Cloud Woman, and she sat in the window of the general store in town and sewed with beads and leather. Kind of like a living display—well, anyway,” she said, cutting herself off from a bit of history that she seemed to really want to get into. “We don’t have moccasins for sale, but we do have kits.”
“Kits?” Cal looked at Zeke and thought about it. He didn’t know what to do, which answer was the right one.
“Sure,” said Maddy. “You put ‘em together. With a leather needle and strips of thin leather.”
“You want moccasins?” asked Zeke, his dark brow furrowing as if he was confused by this idea.
“Maybe instead of the boots?” Cal asked. Surely he couldn’t have both.
“Why not both?” asked Zeke.
Zeke was reaching for his wallet in his back pocket as if, at a moment’s notice, he was prepared to get those moccasins for Cal, in addition to the boots. An easy willingness that Cal did not understand.
“Oh, no,” said Maddy. “He can have both. We have plenty of kits. We get them at a discount for bulk, you see. Let me grab you a size nine and a half, and Zeke, finish helping him pick out a hat, would you?”
She dashed off and so did the clerk, still carrying the box of moccasins. Cal was left alone with Zeke at the counter and a pile of hats.
“Do you still like that one?” asked Zeke, running his fingers along the brim of the hat Cal had chosen.
“Yeah.” He felt a little breathless as the clerk, sans glass display box, and Maddy, carrying a box that said Tandy Leather Moccasin Kit on it, came back to the counter.
“Here you go,” she said, sliding the box next to the straw cowboy hat. “Do you see anything else you need?”
“Are you still putting bandanas in the parolee boxes?” Zeke asked.
“We do,” said Maddy. “But you can always take a few extra, if you think you’ll need them.”
Zeke went off to get bandanas, though Cal couldn’t imagine a use for one, let alone several. Then the clerk held out a small plastic baggie of colorful beads.
“Here, take these.”
“What are they?” Cal clasped the bag in his hand and held it out to Maddy.
“Oh,” she said, leaning forward to take a look. “Those are decorative beads, to put on the fringe.”
“Oh.” Now Cal was really in over his head because she was acting like he understood what she meant. But rather than say anything that might reveal his ignorance, he pretended to smile as he put the beads on top of the moccasin kit box. “Thanks.”
