I was driving home last night. When I turned off the highway, a sudden noise – bright and clear like a siren – blared ahead of me. Surprised, I instantly looked around for a police car or a firetruck but saw nothing. I slowed my old Volvo and the noise fell in pitch; I sped up and the noise grew high and shrill. It was a strangely musical sound, very like bagpipes. Had I run over a Scotsman?
The song continued as I traveled the two blocks to my townhouse and then died away to a faint whine as I parked the Volvo under my carport. A quick check around the Volvo's front and under the hood revealed nothing, not even a scrap of plaid (in contrast to the fantasy picture above).
I rose early this morning to take my musical Volvo into the shop for a mechanical diagnosis. But no matter how I sped up or slowed down, the Volvo refused to sing. I abandoned my trip to the shop and went on to work.
When I returned home from work tonight, I listened intently for any peep, but the Volvo remained mute. Perplexing.
Fortunately, in a few days I will be receiving a timely library book that I put on hold: The Guide for the Perplexed by Moses Maimonides. I hope that it has a chapter on car repair.
