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.
