I got off the Vashon ferry and walked down the beach. It may have been south. The sky was blue, there was a perfect breeze off the water, and up the hill in front of me rose a main street. Clean, well-kept cottages and craftsman homes lined the streets that ascended to the left and descended to the right. Several brick buildings and a few modern office structures had their places on the main drag. But mostly this was a town of homes, of restful small-town life on a hillside above the sea.

I walked farther south into the heart of the business district. There was almost no traffic. I came to a large stone building that looked like it had businesses in it. Downstairs, I found a public library desk. The woman there asked if I needed books or the history of the town. I asked if there was a public office, such as a town hall. She told me the town was Plame, and to go to so-and-so's house to get all the information I needed.

As I walked back downhill a block, I passed another building, more modern: The Annie Wright School of Free Political Thought. I processed that a second. Then I looked out over the colorful, sturdy houses, the bright water and to the wooded islands beyond. Oh my, I thought, I think I have found my home. I started to cry. A good cry. I turned right, back downhill the way I had originally begun, and looking out could see the Vashon ferry about a mile down the beach. I decided to miss a boat so I could go to so-and-so's house and learn more.

So-and-so's house was a slate gray split level with an observation deck on the north side. I climbed up some steps to a platform, then climbed down to the deck. About eight people were assembled in a small room to watch a video about the town's founders. The host and hostess were not very forthcoming when I asked about home prices, but there was some interesting discussion when I asked what state Plame was in. "Oh," one woman said, "we're autonomous. We petitioned the state and we are our own county of . . . [something I couldn't parse]."

"What? What state?"

"The state of Massachusetts let us go. We govern ourselves now," she explained, smiling widely.

"MassaCHUSETTS?! How can you be this close to the Vashon dock if you're in Massachusetts? What is this, Avalon?"

"No, hon, it's just a special place."

I walked back into town, and turned right onto the main street. The ferry was on the Vashon side, so I knew I had time to walk to the dock to make the next one.

And then I woke up.