A Story To Tell

It was June 2015. There they were , on a real adventure. Sharing their love for the outdoors, the water, the trees, the hills. It was warm and the air was sweet. A perfect day to be on a boat. The experience was being shared by Esther and her 5 year old granddaughter Selina. Alone fishing and trolling in the beautiful waters of upstate NY. Selina her olive skin, big brown eyes, and long thick brown hair. Her smile is always so full of fun. Selina is so bright and happy. Esther wanted her to cherish and remember this time always. Never thinking these waters would take them on an adventure beyond their wildest dreams. A place where family history is of utmost importance.

After a few hours they spot a dock in the distance, a quaint little fishing town. The more time they spend there the stranger people seem. Everything seems way out of place. Old fashioned, cobblestone streets , automobiles from the 30's, horse and wagons.Women wear petticoats, men hats, and children knickers with button up leather shoes. It reminds Esther of a place she went to as a child; an old 1800s working farm. A tourist attraction where everything was set up to reflect those times right down the speech patten of old English. This must be that kind of place, Esther thinks. Yet she wonders why she has never heard about it. The difference is when she asked a local fisherman , where she is, he replies why Binghamton of course. Esther had been to Binghamton a lot while growing up and it was nothing like this place at all.

She begins to feel uncomfortable, out of place, homesick. So back on the boat they go, heading back to Greene. After a few hours as dusk falls they finally spot the dock, where Esther’s parents are supposed to be waiting for her Selina. Except the closer they get she realizes it’s the same dock she left…in Binghamton. Again she docks and decides to spend the night. Picking some newspapers blowing around on the ground, she begins to read..The headline speaks of how the president was from the state of NY. President Franklin D Roosevelt, and is June 1934. She wonders if this is a prop or..Are these people out of their minds?... Or is she?

Is Esther stuck in the past? Or a vision for the future ?

Join in her adventure, and you decide. Twisty and intriguing, a place where The Twilight Zone meets Shutter Island.

THERE I WAS ON a real adventure, sharing my love for the outdoors with my five year old granddaughter Selina. It was a warm June morning and the air was sweet.

Selina was such a beautiful girl—olive skin, big brown eyes, and thick curly long brown hair, a smile full of fun. She was a bright and happy child. I wanted her to remember this time always.

It was my grandfather who taught me to ‘read’ the water, the trees, the breezes and the sky.

We had our little rented boat with our fishing poles, packed lunches, and cooler of bottled water and yoohoos. Just us two girls, no boys. Just us, the fish, the water.

It seemed like days but in all reality it was only a few hours. In the river, in our little rented boat how proud I felt and in total control of the situation. Selina was depending on me, and only me. According to Selina I knew everything.

Isn’t it amazing how a young child can make you feel so confident and smart? She doesn’t know I have a horrible sense of direction, or that I’m completely relying on my ‘smart phone’ to find our way back.

We left about nine thirty in the morning and it was noon now. The boat was to be back by six in the evening when my parents would be waiting to pick us up in a small town called Greene at the foothills of the Catskill Mountains.

I saw a port ahead with docks and fishing boats. People seemed busy and it looked like a nice place to stop for lunch. I hoped we could find a bench, or a nice grassy spot to picnic on and find a restroom for Selina of course.

“Ahoy!” called a funny looking man from the dock, as he waved us in. The man wore rubber overalls and you could see his chubby sunburned face. He offered a warm smile and a hand as he welcomed us and helped us off our boat. He then tied it to the dock, and assured us it would be safe there.

There were old looking buildings and shacks, old trucks and boats. Just very old fashioned.

Quaint, simple, yet busy.

Fishermen were slicing and weighing fish. Others were emptying big nets onto wooden tables.

Selina’s eyes got even bigger as she absorbed our surroundings. I grabbed our lunches and we found a nice grassy spot to picnic on near the river where we could also keep an eye on our boat.

The place was like a town from a fairy tale. There were Cobblestone streets and automobiles from the 30s. Horses and wagons, a small post office, a general store, and even a blacksmith! The people were even dressed like they did in the ‘old days’: Women in dresses, hats, and petticoats, while men were in suits and hats and little boys in knickers. What an awesome little tourist place!

We finished our lunch and it was time to find a restroom.

We walked hand in hand down to the riverfront. When Selina asked, where we were.

I responded, “I really don’t know, but we’ll find out.” I slipped my phone out of my pocket and asked it… “Where am I?”

No response. My phone was blank. The moisture must have messed with the battery. Don’t panic, I told myself, we’ll be fine.

Soon a little boy in knickers and a hat approached us. “Lady?” he asked, “why are you and the little girl wearing pants?”

“Well.” I said, “we’re fishing, no need to dress up for that.”

He looked a bit puzzled but said okay and skipped away. What an odd question I thought.

“He’s a silly boy,” said Selina.

“Yes he is,” I agreed. This has to be some tourist place, I thought.