Monday morning I pulled off southbound Hwy. 71 and drove into Butler. The city has a few small signs noting the direction to the house, and I found it fairly easily. It is located at 805 North Fulton Street; a sign - which apparently once hung from a post - marking the spot ("Birthplace of Robert Heinlein, Dean of Science Fiction writers") was propped up against the bottom of the porch.
I took the obligatory selfie - which was hard to do because the sign was so low to the ground - and then hopped back into my car to continue the journey home.
Crank. Grind. It wouldn't turn over!
I was completely shocked, because the car hadn't given me a lick of trouble all weekend. It sounded fine, but wouldn't kick in.
I said, "Bob, if this is a prank, it's not funny!"
I kept trying. No dice. I have AAA, so I placed a call.
An hour later a nice young man from Don's Towing showed up. He couldn't start it, either, so he towed it to the shop. Being Memorial Day, it was closed of course.I was looking forward to staying overnight at a local motel and having the car attended to on Tuesday. When I went to retrieve my bags, just for grins I turned the key one last time.
It started.
"It's a miracle!," said the tow truck operator.
I thanked the fellow for the tow, and took back off. I made it fine the rest of the trip.
Now, there were a few times along the way the car seemed to sputter, in a way that made me think maybe I had tanked up with some bad gas in Kansas City. Indeed, after filling up again later in the day, it ran normally and I made it home in one piece, Southern Oklahoma thunderstorms notwithstanding.
I guess that's what happened.
Or maybe Bob Heinlein wanted to teach me a lesson.
One last note: I already posted this photo on my Facebook page. A Brazilian fan, Flávio Medeiros Jr. commented "I can see a ghost looking through that window."
Maybe you can, too.
There is definitely something in that window. It might just be a reflection. On the other hand...
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