Recalled in my head. I was at the beach with my mother and Dora and Rudy and Tom Brandon. We were at a gray motel. All one story and spread in a line perpendicular to the beach. We were looking for shells. Tom found a bunch of chalky conch shells and piled them up in a plastic bag. I didn't find many shells because I was looking at the yellow pages. My mother had told me to find a hotel for next years vacation and make reservations. I called one place. The guy who answered the phone didn't feel like talking. He said there were a whole lot of hotels around, but it would cost around $70,000. I didn't say anything, but I knew I could never pay the bill. I asked him if he was sure there wasn't anything else. He said he thought we should go to Smoky Lake at Chimney Rock. I said, "That's in the mountains." He said, "I know." I said, "Well we want to feel the salt in the air."