The town called Sag Harbor surrounded the Museum and we ate lunch there. I have no memories of the restaurant or what I ate. Food was always an interruption to any adventure; nothing more in any world. It had even delayed me from learning other wonders waited in this world. The journey on the East End was traveling to Southampton. Strange shaped buildings began to appear every so often. They were not round, but not square either. At their top huge wooden spokes fanned out. Jack informed me they were called Windmills. My father (who always told the truth) announced a man lived inside one of them. Surely, it was the Creator himself.
Lost in my imagined expeditions in this world, I do not know when we came to another “Hampton”. This was East Hampton and somewhere here we stopped and ate home made ice cream. The cone was humongous and bits of cream coated my tongue as I determined
I would finish both flavors completely. Danny helped me do it.
Indian peoples also lived on the East End. We traveled to the Shinnecock Trading Post near East Hampton. Remembering to scout at the entrance, I saw majestic headdresses, feathers flowing to the floor. There were special clothes worn in this land; moccasins, animal skins, even bows, arrows. Then I spied my gift. It was an Indian doll with a feathered Headband. She was to remain in my bedroom until I stretched beyond my own world. We all got Headbands with a feather. My brothers picked “war weapons” they would chase me with when we got home.
We piled back into the Buick Chariot. It was my turn to sit by the window. I began to fix my eyes on sandy mountains with tall grasses growing. They were called Hither Hills and formed an edge to the old Montauk Highway. I don’t think it was a State park then. We simply pulled off the road; raced to the tops and down to the water. Huge, ice cold waves swallowed my feet at the shore. The four of us decided this must be where Captain Kidd had buried his treasure. I had never found it in the world where we lived. Alas, it has remained a secret still.
After much reluctance to leave, we drove on to the Montauk Lighthouse. It was a tower with a beam to guide sailing ships to safe waters at night. Once again, my father told me a man lived inside. As my eyes narrowed in doubt, my mother smiled and nodded.
My legs were too small to climb to the top, so my mother and I walked along the shore.
I found a strange legged fish on the shore. My mother explained it was a Starfish. They came out at night and danced in the bottom of the ocean where starlight could always descend. She also whispered of baby Mermaids that lived in conch shells until they grew up. My father bought one of those shells for my mother. He was to do that every trip. She marked the year on each one with nail polish. I kept “1954” but to this day, more than fifty years after, I just don’t remember in what box I placed it through the years.
Our final stop took place while I had fallen asleep. It was Gosman’s Docks. I awoke to the sound of crunching and saw my father putting ice on a tarp in the trunk of our Buick. Then everyone but me proceeded into a “Shack”. When they emerged, the worst creatures in any nightmare lay in their grasp. Tentacles, claws, poppy eyes all being ceremoniously carried and placed in the trunk. Lobsters! My mother assured me they were the best food created in any world. Later, at home, she would boil them. They turned crimson red and were ready. I was as brave as my brothers so I tasted one. It was scrumptious. Mom was so right!
Then, we began the drive home. I did not see the moment we left the East End. What would happen to all I had seen and experienced? Could I ever find the entrance again?