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The Most Splendid Shoes

Robert P. Bishop

    The man rose with the morning sun and stood barefoot on the cold stone floor. He wiggled his toes on the stones and thought how nice it would be to own a pair of shoes made of fine, soft leather.
    He sighed, forgot about shoes and found a hunk of dark bread and a chunk of cheese for his breakfast. He sat at the rickety table, munching the coarse food and washing it down with bitter coffee.
    His thoughts turned to shoes again. “Oh, what would I do with a pair of fine shoes on my feet? Why, I would be the envy of the village,” he said aloud. “Oh, yes, all my friends would burn with envy.” The man smiled at the image of his friends boiling with jealousy over his fine shoes.
    The man sighed again and wiped his hands on his pants and finished the bitter coffee. “I will never have a pair of shoes.”
    A sharp rap on his door startled him. He got up from the table and crossed the cold floor to the door. Before he could open it there was another sharp knock.
    The man flung the door open but no one was standing outside. “This is very strange. Who knocks then runs away?” Just as he was closing the door he looked down. “Oh, a pair of shoes.” He picked them up and brought them into his house.
    The man placed the shoes on the kitchen table and sat down. He regarded them curiously, wondering where they came from and who had left them outside his door. He touched them with his fingers, delicately, tenderly, and sensed the leather of which they were made was supple and soft.
    Then the man had an idea. “I will try them on.” The man put them on his feet and wiggled his toes. He stood up and walked across the cold stones. The shoes were a perfect fit and felt wonderful on his feet. The man walked back and forth over the cold stones and smiled happily.
    “I have a pair of shoes, a pair of brown shoes made of soft, fine leather.”
    The man returned to his kitchen chair and removed the shoes. He put them on the table and studied them. “They need polish,” he concluded. The man found a tin of wax. He applied the wax with a rag and buffed the shoes to a high shine. They gleamed in the morning sun pouring through the east window.
    “I will show my friends these fine shoes.” The man put the shoes on and walked to the village square where he would order a cup of hot sweet café au lait. He hoped all his friends would be there when he arrived.
    The man arrived at the café. Several of his friends were already there and they greeted him pleasantly. He sat down and ordered a large café au lait to celebrate his new shoes. Then he stretched his legs out so everybody could see his shoes, but nobody looked at his feet.
    Finally, the man said, “Look at my splendid shoes! Just look at them!”
    “Yes, yes, they are shoes,” said his friends. They sipped their sweet coffees in the warm morning sun and ignored his shoes.
    “These are the most splendid shoes. Nobody has ever had such splendid shoes as these. As you can plainly see, they are made of fine, soft leather.” The man grinned. “These shoes are the most splendid shoes in the village. And they are on my feet.”
    “Well, yes, of course, we can see they are on your feet,” said his friends. “Where else would we expect to see shoes?”
    After a while the man said, “I must take my splendid shoes for a walk. I am sure other people want to see them, too. After all, they are the most splendid shoes in the village.” The man got up and walked away.
    “Those shoes are not good for him,” his friends said as they watched him stride down the street. “He will come to a bad end with those shoes. Oh, yes, that much is certain.” They nodded their heads wisely and sipped their coffees in the warm morning sun.

    The man walked carefully down the street, keeping a sharp lookout for mud puddles and other dangers to his splendid shoes. He stopped frequently to wipe the dirt from his shoes. “Oh, yes, with these shoes I will become a big success and my friends will envy me even more.” Then he stopped in front of a clothing store and looked in the window. He saw a brown suit with a white shirt and a red tie on display. The brown suit was the only suit in the window.
    The man stared at the brown suit. “That suit is just right for my splendid brown shoes.”
    He entered the shop.
    A clerk approached. “May I help you?”
    “Yes,” said the man with the splendid brown shoes on his feet.
    The clerk waited expectantly.
    “I will have that brown suit in the window.”
    “Of course.” The clerk fetched the brown suit.
    “And the white shirt and red tie.”
    “Of course.” The clerk fetched the shirt and tie.
    The man counted out the money, put the suit on and left the shop.
    He continued down the street, stopping frequently to dust his shoes and look at his reflection in store windows. He was pleased with his image. Then he squinted his eyes. Something was not right. Something was missing. What could it be? At last he figured it out.
    “A hat! I am missing a hat!” He went into a shop and bought a dark hat with a snappy brim and put it on his head at a jaunty angle. Then he left the shop and walked briskly down the street, looking every bit the successful business man.

    Three days later the man’s body, still clad in the brown suit, was returned to his village. The hat was clutched in a lifeless hand. Only the shoes were missing. His friends buried him in the brown suit and returned to the sidewalk café where they sipped sugary cafés au lait in the warm morning sun.
    “We knew those shoes were not good for him,” they said. “Oh, yes, we knew he would come to a bad end with those shoes.” They nodded their heads wisely and sipped their cafés au lait in the warm morning sun.
    Early in the morning in the next village a man heard a sharp knock on his door. There was nobody there when he opened it. He looked at his doorstep and saw a pair of brown shoes. He picked them up and brought them into his house and put them on the kitchen table. He studied the shoes for some minutes. He felt the leather, soft and pliable. “They need polish,” he said. He found a tin of wax and polished the shoes so they gleamed brightly in the morning sun pouring through the small east window. The man wiggled his bare toes on the cold stone floor and had an idea.
    “I will try them on.”

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