Someone I May Have Met

 

On one of my early rides to Montauk Point with my old friend Vinny, I probably met someone famous, but chose not to ask his identity as it was not offered. We had packed our bags that morning and after attempting to sleep through the day, while fighting our internal clocks, we arose and ate a hearty meal to fuel the trek before us.

 Leaving at ten o’clock p.m. we headed out into the night. As it was late Summer, the sun had set a little over an hour before. The roads were quiet as we headed south down Woodhaven Boulevard bearing left onto Rockaway Boulevard and down to South Conduit East which hugged the Belt Parkway. This highway would eventually change into Sunrise Highway at the Nassau County border. Avoiding potholes, we rolled through the battered streets of the poor neighborhood. Groups of people sat on their stoops and leaned against parked cars. Caribbean music played as men played along on bongos and kettle drums while the smell of exotic tropical foods intoxicated the hot summer air with a wonderful bouquet from various islands. Stores advertised live chickens and goats for slaughter as we had been miraculously transported to a tropical island somewhere in the Caribbean Sea. A few people waved at the white boys traveling through the neighborhood at this unlikely hour. No one bothered us.

 The night rolled along as urban streets eventually gave way to rural roadways without potholes and our pace quickened. As the first light of dawn began to peek over the horizon and the energy from our previous meal was almost spent, we pedaled along in search of a diner or delicatessen. My gas tank was almost on E at this point, and I hadn’t looked at the map in a while but from occasional road signs I determined that we were somewhere in the Hamptons. Finally, a General Store came rolling by and we stopped for a break. The store smelled wonderful to two hungry teenagers like the fragrance department in Macy’s on 34^th Street to a woman being treated to the latest fragrances by attendants as she walked down the main aisle in the cosmetics department. Eggs, bacon, cheese and toast seduced us as thick, nutty brown Colombian coffee bubbled in the pot. Sirens could not have been more alluring as we were drawn to the shoals of the counter happily turning out our pockets for this much deserved feast. There must have been an orange grove behind the store as the orange juice tasted fresh squeezed! We happily disposed of overlooked pits, into our provided napkins.

As we sat on the steps of the General Store enjoying our breakfast a large black, shiny Rolls Royce pulled into the parking lot stopping a few feet away from us. A chauffeur got out of the driver’s seat in a trim blue suit and cap and proceeded to open the door behind him to let out a small man dressed in a suit and overcoat, sporting a Fedora with a wide band around the base. His skin had a white, pasty pallor and he wore dark black sunglasses which revealed little of the face beneath. His overcoat seemed too heavy for the time of year.

“Good morning, gentlemen,” he said with a southern drawl intertwined in a lisp.

“Good morning,” we responded in unison.

“You picked a nice day for a bike ride, how far have you come?” He queried.

“We left Queens at ten p.m. last night to take advantage of the cooler temperatures and quiet roads devoid of maniac drivers. We are heading for the Montauk Lighthouse,” I told him.

“Very impressive,” he said!

Vinny and I looked at each other and Vinny said under his breath,” Do you know who that is?”

“I think so,” I whispered.

Truman Capote did have a place out here in the Hamptons during that time and this man certainly fit his description to a tee. I had seen him on The Tonight Show with Johnny Carson. There was something about the thick sunglasses and tinted windows on the limousine which told me not to ask his identity. I was curious though as my father had just finished reading In Cold Blood and told me that it was very well written. I left the subject alone.

The chauffeur came out of the store now handing his purchase to our new acquaintance. He opened the rear door again and the man got in. The chauffeur closed the door and with a thin smile tipped his hat to us and got back behind the wheel. The rear electric window rolled down now, and the mystery man said,” Godspeed on your ride and be safe!”

“Goodbye and Thank You,” we responded.

The car pulled out of the lot and disappeared down the road bringing the man back to his secluded abode. 

“Was that Truman Capote?” Vinny asked.

“I am pretty sure it was, but something told me not to ask. He comes here to be left alone with his thoughts and write; you have to respect that,” I said.

We agreed that this had been the best course of action as we pedaled on to the famous beacon at Montauk.

 

Jim

Feb 2022