STEVEN HAWKING TIME CRASH

                                                                  [this is a true story]

I think time travel has happened. I personally witnessed it. Time travel from the future or the past; well, one end of it anyway, I think. The more I think about it the more I think that's what it was: time travel, or more specifically a time travel destination bad landing misadventure.

It occurred weirdly on a typical rainy night in the pacific coast town of Port Townsend. A storm wracked angry finger of land named for french bunnies hosts a town crouched between hills and the sea. At one of the lowest areas of terrain a marina hugs a rocky shore. I had laundry in the machine in the marinas restroom building which faced a row of empty parking spots along the docks. No one around at all in the pouring rain. The Port keeps things pretty well lit up enough that as I rounded the corner on foot I could see a gaunt male figure on an electric wheelchair sitting in the middle of the narrow street. He was pushing at the controls. He was grunting and growling and obviously pissed off. And he looked remarkably amazingly just like Steven Hawking the famous Physicist. Small guy neatly folded into wet seat. A dark computer screen and rain splashed keyboard. Drippy glases and bow tie, some kind of pin on lapel. A very angry wet Steven Hawking. A stranded super genius. The rain must have shorted out his gadgets.

     There was no one else around. None of those distant parked vehicles could have held his machine. He had no minder? No van? Famous people do come to Port Townsend. It's a quaint place. The town even has some famous genius' of its own that possibly could attract a visit from a person like the sitter in Newtons chair. But would they let him roll around on his own in the rain? In a tourist town historically known for kidnapping? How'd he get here? All this thinking took just a second as I stepped onto the sidewalk and he spotted me. He beckoned. Beckoned? The tone went up on the struggled noises he made. Bent arm waved, He wore a well cut suit; Savile Row? He seemed glad to see me and my umbrella. So I held it over him.

     “Hi. Nice night.” I do like it dark and rainy. “You OK?” He made a groan that sounded of purest sarcasm. He could communicate somewhat without the keyboard he banged at. “Is there a circuit breaker? Is the battery dead?” Both questions unnecessary. I took a quick look at the thing. The idea of messing with any wiring in the rain while standing in the street did not appeal to me. How much could I do? I pushed him under the cover of the restroom entrances. About twelve feet. Out of the rain and dark and under the Ports locally adequate lighting. He accompanied this with an untranslatable sort of strangled bird cry and much joystick tugging. “Hey now, you can't sit out there in the rain. Maybe the wires will dry out a bit. I got to switch my laundry to dry. I'll be right back.” I'm not wheeling him into the laundry. He'd get the floor all wet. I left him parked facing out towards at the street so whoever could spot him easy. When I come back out I’ll see how to plug him in for a charge if that's what he needs. Turning to go into the laundry I saw him salute my help with a middle finger gesture.

     OK, so I pull Steven Hawking with his broke down machine from the middle of the dark street in the rain and that's the thanks I get. Where did he want me to push him?: it was up the empty street, down the empty street, into the water of the yacht basin or under the dry well lit awning. I mulled this over as I pulled my damp clothes out of the washer and stuffed them into the dryer. This laundry room has big windows, the whole corner of the building. A clear view halfway to downtown, the cars on Water street, the ferry docking in the rainy mist. No cars moved on the marinas streets, no one walking in the rain, no wet dog joggers on the trail. I became very curious about my stranded new acquaintance.

     Who was he? Really Steven Hawking? Would it be rude to ask? I have so many questions. How can we communicate with his chair shorted out? Rude gestures so far his only success. I went out to ask and help if I can.

     He was gone. No trace. Well, not much trace to expect in the rain. It had been, what? three minutes? No car tail lights receding. No hunched rolling figure crossing far pools of streetlight. I checked the water. The rock bank protected from people by stout cables hung on sturdy posts. He didn't go swimming. I looked up. Not on the roof. I would've noticed a helicopter. I checked the men's room. Nope. I rapped on the ladies room door. “Yo Steve! You in there? You got the wrong door!” Just a hollow echo. No grunting. He would have left two wet tracks and a puddle of drips and it looked like no one had gone in at least as long as it would have taken the floor to dry.

     What the Hawking happened here? The dryer takes one hour which I spend walking downtown and back. No sighting. I gathered my dry clothes up and back to the boat then over to the Safeway store. He was not waiting for the bus.

     I think back now on this encounter and I'm sure I pushed a broke down Steven Hawking out of the rain to be thanked with a rude gesture. The American version not the British. Does that mean it wasn't the real Steven Hawking? Of course it does. That Steven Hawking in the rain was not the Steven Hawking somewhere in England thinking up crazy math. My Port Townsend wet guy is the time traveling Steven Hawking from some other era dropped on the street in the rain by the docks when Port Townsend's tiny local black hole that sometimes on stormy nights steals a sock or book report or set of keys or sometimes leaves an errant super genius time traveler shorted out in a puddle.

     I'm sorry I never had the opportunity to ask him if that had been him. But the one I'd have been asking might not yet have done any time travel, so how would he know?

It would have been nice if he had stuck around awhile. I still can't think what it was got him so angry about. I would've pushed anybody out of the road and rain even if they didn't have a famous brain. I mean he was gone so quick anyway it must have worked out for him, a ride or something. I prefer to think the wormhole plucked him off to some further adventure where I hoped he managed to dry out and get power up again so he could more fully enjoy that future when ever it was.