I pieced together the story of the compote in that cluttered store eventually, at least in part. You may choose to believe it or not, but it was fascinating. It does seem anecdotal in places, made up by some overactive imaginations, but that is how history is unless it is documented.

As the bus slowly inched forward to my home, I made up my mind to pay the store a second visit. I wanted to see if the store still existed and if it was real. In a few days, I mustered enough courage to take a second trip to the store. And sure enough, the store was exactly at the place where I last saw it. I hesitated for a few moments before I entered it. I realized I would not be forgiven twice. However, my curiosity got the better of me, and I opened the door.

To my surprise, the store looked better than earlier. Sunlight was streaming through windows whose existence I had not noticed during my earlier visit. It seemed still cluttered but less dusty and there were a ruddy-faced man and a matronly woman in the store. I took a deep breath. I had not expected any of this.

I put on my brave face and a smile and approached the two figures. They seemed genuinely happy that I was there, as if they did not get many visitors. They confirmed that they did not receive frequent customers, and I was not surprised. Most customers were probably efficiently driven away by the store’s “real” customers! Did the two know about the real customers, I wondered? In any case, I was dead set on the compote (no pun intended) and really wanted to know more about its history.

I asked the owners, named Henry and Marsha, about the compote and my interest in buying it. Henry scratched his balding head, but Marsha’s eyes lit up. Marsha shared with me that she had recently sold the compote to a stranger who walked in and had a stern-looking face. There was nothing else she could share about the new owner, but she remembered where she had got the compote from a few years ago and was more than happy to share its journey.

I was delighted to get a start. As I reflect back, I must have been really focused on the compote to not find Henry, Marsha, the relatively upgraded appearance of the store in just a few days, and a real customer for the compote, odder than my first visit. None of that mattered presently. The story was more important.

Marsha shared with me that she found the compote in an old house in Pittstown, NY. “The house, which was initially a carriage house was built in the early 1800s on a road that was named after Tories-who were loyalists of the English monarchy during the American Revolutionary War, purportedly the first civil war of the United States. The carriage house was eventually built over as a single-family dwelling, retaining old architecture but merging with more modern elements especially, after an old fireplace in the dwelling caught a massive fire. The resulting cottage was cute with a distinctive country charm with ancient pines, a black walnut tree, and a maple tree in the yard that had likely seen the house as a carriage-house”, Marsha reminisced.

The house contents were being auctioned by the owners to raise money for much-needed repair and restoration of the old structure. As was a habit of Marsha to find antiques, she visited the auction and bought the compote from the owners who let her know that they had procured it with the house. The owners believed that the compote was a constant fixture of the house; the local historical society even had a picture of the old carriage house with a faded looking compote on the first floor on a chest of drawers.

I found it is very surprising that a utilitarian structure like a carriage house had a fancy compote and even more surprising that the early 1800s had that kind of a design. The information, though anachronistic, was still more than what I previously had, which were just questions. I thanked Marsha and bid them adieu, walking out of the store, unfortunately with some information and more questions about the compote.

Next few days were spent in my contacting the historical society, who could confirm the compote’s picture but did not prove much help going further back. They offered an additional but quite interesting piece of information; the compote was actually a dome, like a pedestal dish.  The difference was the lid was exactly like the base. They added further that the dome was split at some point, and the top structure was lost to time. This new information startled me. “Why was the dome split and that too so precisely?” I wondered.

The historical society did mention the name of the series of owners, they had documented, to own the land on ‘Tories’. One of the owners was a wealthy farmer who obtained a parcel of land forfeited by the British Crown Loyalist, Robert Leake. The farmer had the foresight to build a carriage house for the developing taverns in the town to help the tavern businesses. Apparently, the compote made its appearance around this time in the farmer’s home as a dome and was moved to the carriage house as a split dome. The carriage house with the split dome was passed on to that farmer’s future generations.

I saw a lot of intriguing gaps in the history even as I pieced it all together. It also gave me a headache. I decided to take a break and write about the ‘split-dome compote’ to get my thoughts together.

I have seen a lot of fantastical stories of magical lamps and possessed objects. It did not take long for the idea to root that the split compote was split because of magic or that it released some magic. The competition wanted that compote as a souvenir. Or maybe the split-compote of the carriage house was truly magical, and the nether world could not share the prize with a human.

I would never know the true answer unless I met my competition again and confirmed my story or I met the farmer who may have known some aspect of the dome’s history.

As I wrote about the history of the compote, my head swirled with two important questions in different times. Why was a human being allowed to buy the compote finally? And how did the farmer originally acquired the dome-compote?

I suppose I could get more leads if I had the inclination, resources, and energy to pursue these questions further. But did I want to upset the cart so to speak? An investigation like this can easily consume you and some things are not meant to be uncovered without invoking the wrath of the universe. I did not want that presently.

I already had my compote and flower arrangements and was ready to forget it all.