Grandpa’s Magic Hat
a hat, a plain old wide-brimmed straw with a red band around the crown. Strange thing was, he never wore the hat. He just kept it on a stand on his dresser, like it was something special. One day my brother Luke and I were in Grandpa’s room, helping him sort his fishing tackle. The hat caught Luke’s eye. “Grandpa, you never wear that old straw hat,” he said. “Why do you keep it?” Grandpa picked up the hat. “This here’s a magic hat, Luke,” he said, his voice whispery low, like in a scary movie. Luke’s eyes almost popped out of his head. “A magic hat?” Grandpa nodded. “It can bring things to life.” I’m three years older than Luke and a whole lot wiser. “Come on, Grandpa. There’s
