"Science offers the best answers to the meaning of life. Science offers you the privilege before you die of understanding why you were ever born in the first place." --Richard Dawkins
Tuesday, December 23, 1986
3:45PM
Hill Valley, California
Lone Pine Mall was packed two days before Christmas. Marty McFly made his way through the throngs of frazzled shoppers, clutching girlfriend Jennifer Parker's hand. "I can't believe you put things off this late," Marty told her, raising his voice to be heard above the hustle and bustle in the mall corridor. "I thought all girls got their shopping done as soon as possible!"
Jennifer shook her head, letting go of Marty's hand for a moment to brush a wisp of hair from her eyes. "I can be a procrastinator with stuff like this," she said, grimacing. "I really hate these holiday crowds!"
Marty dodged a stroller, pushed by a weary-looking woman. "Maybe you should try mail-order next year," he suggested. "Then all you have to do is wait for the packages to come to the door!"
"That would require planning ahead of time," Jennifer said, sighing. "I'm not the best at that when it comes to shopping, but maybe I'll give it a try next year. It would certainly beat this! I feel like I'm in a herd of cattle!"
"Ditto," Marty said. "Except I don't think cows would be as aggressive as some of these people!"
Jennifer pulled Marty over to an empty table on the fringes of the food court. "What do you say we take a break?" she asked, setting her shopping bags down and plopping down in one of the chairs.
Marty joined her at the table. "Fine with me," he agreed. "Who do you have left to do?"
"Just my mom and my uncle," Jennifer said, rubbing her forehead. "Then I'll be all done, finally!"
"What about me?" Marty asked her, teasingly.
Jennifer smiled at him. "Oh, I already got your gift!"
"What is it?" Marty asked, not expecting her to answer. Jennifer's smile grew wider at the query.
"You'll see tonight, when we exchange gifts. But you'll like it, I promise!"
Marty grinned at Jennifer. "I'm sure. You should love your gift!"
Jennifer started to open her mouth to say something, then abruptly closed it. The smile faded on her face, her eyes locked on something behind Marty. Marty turned around, seeing nothing particularly interesting. Just lots and lots of procrastinating shoppers. He looked back at Jennifer. His girlfriend's eyes were still locked on something, an odd expression on her face. "Jen?" Marty asked, suddenly concerned. "What's wrong?"
Jennifer shook her head slightly, distracted. "Nothing, just--oh my God, that is him! I don't believe it!"
Marty turned around, trying to figure out what had caught his girlfriend's attention. "That's who?" he asked, looking at her.
"Chad McCoy," Jennifer said. "That tall blond guy over there, talking with the redhead. See?"
Marty started to turn around. Jennifer's hand shot across the table, grabbing his arm. "Don't be so obvious!" she hissed in a whisper.
"I can't see who's behind me without turning around," Marty pointed out patiently, wondering what had gotten into Jennifer. He slowly turned around, his eyes landing on the guy that had caught Jennifer's attention. Just as she had said, the guy was tall, with probably a good foot on Marty. He had a thin, wiry build and a head full of dark blond hair. He looked about their age. As Marty watched, the redhaired girl he was talking to said something that made the guy laugh, revealing a mouthful of straight, white teeth.
"Who is that?" Marty asked, turning back around to face Jennifer. His girlfriend was watching the guy with a kind of wistful expression on her face. Marty felt a sudden, strange pang of jealousy in the pit of his stomach with that look.
"Chad McCoy," Jennifer repeated, sighing the name. "Oh God, I had the biggest crush on him in elementary school...."
"I don't remember any Chad McCoy," Marty said, thinking hard.
"That's because we didn't go to the same elementary school, remember?" Jennifer said. She sighed again. "He's one of my great regrets."
That jealous feeling grew stronger. Marty swallowed hard, trying to ignore it. "Great regrets?"
"Yeah," Jennifer said, resting her chin in the palm of her hand. "I liked Chad from fourth to eighth grade -- bad. He and I kind of became friends and there were rumors that he liked me as well. But I was too much of a chicken to do anything about it," she added with a smile. "There was one time, when I was twelve, when my old friend Christina and I were hanging out with him at Christina's house and I trapped him behind her dad's shed. 'Get out of my way or I'll kiss you,' he said to me. I hesitated for a second, really wanting him to kiss me. But then I got out of the way."
Jennifer heaved another sigh. "I've always wondered what would've happened if I stayed put. If Chad and I would have ended up going out or what."
Marty turned around to look at the guy, narrowing his eyes at Chad. The feeling of jealousy grew stronger, especially when Marty looked at his girlfriend again and saw the expression of longing in her eyes. "What happened to him?" he asked, not really wanting to know.
Jennifer shrugged. "His family moved to Grass Valley right before high school started. I haven't seen him since eighth grade. The crush kind of faded away. And then I met you." Jennifer looked at Marty and smiled. "Do you know how cute you are when you get that jealous scowl on your face?"
Marty blinked, startled at her observation. After a moment he gave her a crooked smile. "Am I that obvious?"
Jennifer's smile widened. "Oh, Marty," she said, reaching across the table and giving his hands a squeeze. "I wouldn't ever trade what I have with you for Chad McCoy! Do you think I'm that shallow! Surely," she added, "you have some great regret in your life, romance or otherwise. Everyone does."
Marty smiled at his love, the jealous sensation fading almost as quickly as it had arrived. "I guess I do have a few," he admitted. "None had to do with crushes or whatever, though. In fact, the biggest one that happened to me happened about ten years ago," he added thoughtfully.
"What was it?" Jennifer asked, her eyes locked on his face. Chad McCoy appeared to be forgotten.
"It snowed that year in Hill Valley," Marty said. "A lot! Remember, we had a white Christmas?"
Jennifer nodded. "Yes, I'll never forget that! Didn't it snow six inches? I don't think I've ever seen that much snow in Hill Valley, before or since."
"Well, anyway, the guys I was friends with then and I made this sledding obstacle course down near the lake. It was really awesome, with all these ramps and things. It ended near the shore of the lake."
Jennifer nodded. "That must have been fun," she said.
Marty smiled, a little embarrassed to say what he was going to next. "Yeah, I'm sure it was."
Jennifer blinked, surprised. "What do you mean? You never went on it?"
"Well, it took us a few days to finish the course. When we finally did, at nightfall, we had to go home. That night there was freezing rain, coating everything in ice! It was slick as hell. My friends and I were trying to have one of us be the first guinea pig down the course. None of us wanted to be first! And for some reason, maybe because I was the smallest of everyone, the guys all ganged up on me."
"You didn't go, did you?" Jennifer asked.
Marty shook his head, blushing at the memory. "No. They kept at it, telling me I was chicken if I didn't go. I wanted to, I really did....but then Dave, my brother, showed up to tell me that Mom wanted us back to do some shopping.
"So I went back home, having every intention to do the course the next day. But I caught a real nasty case of the flu and my mom kept me inside. By the time I got over that, a couple days before the new year, the snow had melted and the course with it." Marty sighed. "I never got a chance to do that course and I've always regretted it! I should've just gone ahead and done it. Maybe then the kids wouldn't have started calling me chicken. They never forgot that day," he added.
Jennifer frowned faintly. "Oh, Marty, I think it's great how you stood up to that peer pressure."
"But Jennifer, it was that incident that kind of started that whole chicken thing. Partly because I never got to do that, I felt like I had to do other things to prove I wasn't a wimp. Anyway," he added, "how is that any less stupid than your whole Chad crush?"
Jennifer blushed, her eyes inadvertently shifting to look at Chad. "Okay, okay, maybe it's not that ridiculous," she allowed. "We all have our own little great regrets in life, though they may seem pretty petty to others."
That evening, after dropping Jennifer off at her house, Marty drove over to Doc Brown's place. The Browns weren't there; they were out of town. For an early Christmas present to the boys, Doc and Clara decided to take a week's vacation....to Disneyland! They had left on Tuesday, the 16th, and planned to be back tomorrow afternoon, on Christmas Eve day. Marty was more than a little surprised that Doc hadn't taken his family in one of the time machines to cut down on the traveling time and expense. But instead, Doc had decided to experience the classic family vacation via a road trip. It was a good four hundred mile drive to Disneyland from Hill Valley and Marty was looking forward to hearing about how the trip had gone.
I'll bet that's the last time Doc tries any of that family road trip stuff, he thought with a chuckle, taking the Brown housekeys from his pocket. Doc had asked Marty to look after and feed Einstein while they were gone, and Marty was happy to cooperate.
Einstein met him at the door, his tail wagging happily. "Hey, Einie," Marty said, kicking the door shut at his back as he bent over to scratch the dog behind the ears. "How are you, boy? I'll bet you're lonely, aren't ya?"
Einstein barked, as if to confirm Marty's words. Marty headed for the kitchen, the only sound the faint ticking of Doc's extensive clock collection, some of which resided in his second- floor study. The house seemed unearthly silent. Marty passed the darkened Christmas tree in one corner of the living room, humming a Christmas carol under his breath. He pushed open the swinging door to the kitchen, clicking on the florescent light above. Einstein padded close to his heels.
"Let's see," Marty said aloud, opening the cabinet above the dishwasher. He looked down at the dog. "Would you rather have the beef surprise or the bacon bits?"
Einstein barked, his tail wagging harder. Marty smiled, taking a can of each from the shelf. "Aw, what the hell, why not both," he said. "It's almost Christmas, after all."
He opened the cans, then dumped out their contents in Einstein's doggie bowl by the back door. The dog attacked his food almost immediately. Marty changed the water in the bowl, then wandered over to the window above the sink. He stared outside, at Doc's garage lab. The building was dark, though Christmas lights that were set on an automatic timer glowed along the eaves of the building.
Without thinking about it, Marty unbolted the back door and stepped outside, crossing the lawn to the building. It was cold out, though not quite below freezing. It was going to be another green California Christmas this year. Not at all like that Christmas of '76.
We all have our own little great regrets in life, Jennifer had said earlier.
Marty reached into his pocket and pulled out the keys. He unlocked the door to Doc's lab and stepped inside. The building was dark and cold. Doc must've turned the heat way down before leaving on the vacation. Marty shut the door and flicked the overhead lights on. The DeLorean rested a few feet away, its windows fogged up from the chilly air.
"It was a Thursday," Marty said aloud. "Thursday, December 23, 1976. Ten years ago today...."
Marty looked at the keys in hand, wondering if one to the DeLorean was included. But after a brief inspection he was disappointed, thought not entirely surprised. Feeling a twinge of guilt, Marty started snooping around the lab, looking for the keys. Doc tended to move it around from time to time, especially since Jules and Verne got their hands on the DeLorean and took it back to the prehistoric dinosaur time at the end of the summer. After several minutes of searching, unsuccessfully, Marty paused a moment and tried to think like Doc.
"Where would he put the keys?" Marty muttered aloud, standing beside the worktable. Marty's eyes scanned the room, searching for a place that might inspire a search. They came to rest on Doc's lab coat, hanging on a hook on the back of the door. Marty walked over to it, knowing it was a long shot. But he checked the pockets. Nothing in the first one. But in the second one, his fingers touched something small and metallic. Marty hooked his fingers around it and pulled it out. It was the DeLorean's keys.
"Yes," he whispered aloud, crossing the room to the time machine. Marty unlocked the door and got inside. Only then did he truly realize what he was going to do.
I'm going to go back and make sure I take that sledding run. Maybe it'll save myself years of teasing! Hell, at least I can show those other kids that I wasn't a chicken.
Marty knew Doc would be horrified at the idea of this trip. Aside from the obvious, Marty planned to talk to himself. He didn't think that would create any paradoxes--Marty was nearly positive that he wouldn't recognize himself as himself from the future at the age of eight--but he was tweaking with his own past, and Doc seemed to have a stern rule against that. In fact, it seemed to be the number one rule of time travel, since the repercussions could be so great. Marty understood the risk--he still remembered all too well what had happened with his first trip back in time, to 1955!--but hardly thought this would create even a blip on the current outcome of his life.
"It'll be fine," Marty said aloud, shutting the door to the car and turning on the time circuits. He could go back, talk to his younger self, and be back in 1986 in time to meet Jennifer at her house at seven to exchange Christmas gifts. He quickly programmed the destination for December 23, 1976, at a time shortly before dawn. If Marty remembered correctly, the entire incident would take place around nine that morning. If he could intercept his younger self before then and give himself a firm talking-to on the matter....
"My great regret will no longer be a regret," Marty murmured. He started the DeLorean, revving the engine a few times to make sure it wouldn't stall from the cold. Then he opened the double doors, turned the flying circuits on, and headed for the rendezvous with his past.
The temperature dropped sharply in the interior of the DeLorean when Marty entered the world, ten years past. He shivered, suddenly realizing he'd forgotten to dress for the cold weather. The, jeans, denim jacket, and sweater he wore wouldn't keep him warm for long outside. And his Nike's would give him about as much traction on the streets as they might on a ski course!
Guess that's water under the damn now, he thought. At least his clothes wouldn't be blatantly out of place, only ten years in the past. They might not look the cutting edge of fashion, but he wouldn't be looked at twice--Marty hoped.
He looked out the window, the freezing rain still falling outside and covering the windshield with a glass-like coating. Marty gulped, wondering if the weather would hurt the flying circuits. Better safe than sorry! he figured, heading for the ground.
He landed on a deserted street, immediately discovering a new problem--driving on roads that were slicker than ice rinks! Doc had never outfitted the DeLorean with studded tires or chains, for obvious reasons. Now Marty desperately wished he had! He drove white-knuckled, at five miles an hour, until he reached a part of town that had yet-to-be developed--and was about a halfway point between the lake and downtown Hill Valley. Marty drove the car into a heavily wooded clearing, then left the time machine to hike into town.
It was a mighty uncomfortable hike for Marty. As deep as he buried his hands in his pockets and as hard as he clenched his hands into fists, it wasn't long before the cold leeched out what warmth he could generate. Ditto for the icy, biting wind that made Marty feel like Frosty the Snowman himself less than five minutes after leaving the shelter of the car. The mile hike into town seemed to take twice that. By the time he reached the center of Hill Valley, all Marty could think of was how good warmth would feel.
The precipitation, at least, had stopped. But Marty knew from memory that it would be snowing by late afternoon. Hours after I should be gone, he thought.
At this early hour of the morning, not much was open. But Marty spotted the "Open" sign in the window of Lou's Cafe, currently in the final years of it's operation. The aerobics place would take over it in 1981. Marty hurried as fast as his frozen legs would allow towards the door of the building. Blessedly warm air rushed out to meet him as he stepped inside.
The owner, Lou Caruthers, now well into his sixties, looked up at Marty's entrance. The cafe was empty at this early hour of the day, Christmas music playing softly over the diner's speakers.
"You look half-frozen, kid," the man growled as Marty came inside. "Are you crazy or somethin', out on a day like this?"
"Or something," Marty muttered through chattering teeth, taking a seat at the counter. "Can I have some hot coffee?"
The aging owner poured Marty a generous cup, setting it down on the counter before him. "That'll be thirty cents," he said.
Still cheaper here than in the future, Marty thought, trying to move his stiff and numb fingers towards his back pocket, where his wallet was. After a moment they cooperated, albeit slowly, and Marty fished out the correct amount of cash for the drink. He set it on the counter, then took his mug of coffee over to one of the empty booths.
Out of habit, Marty glanced at his watch. What the hell? he wondered, when he saw that the digital face read 7:12PM. Then he remembered--he hadn't coordinated it to the present time, yet.
Marty leaned over his coffee mug, closing his eyes and letting the hot steam soak over his frozen skin. After a few minutes of thawing out, he took his first sip of the brew, grimaced at the strong, bitter taste, and set it back down. He looked outside, through the large window to his left. From where he sat, daylight slowly lightening the sky outside, Marty had a clear view of the Christmas tree that was erected in the parking lot before the courthouse. Marty's memories of the place from the perspective he saw things at the age of eight seemed foggy now. Things looked the same....but different. He had the odd feeling as if he was seeing a picture take in 1955 and again in 1985 and seeing the both of them overlap in this weird state of flux....
Marty's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the door opening and closing. He glanced up and saw a familiar figure approach the counter. "Holy shit!" Marty breathed without thinking about it, nearly knocking over his cup of coffee.
Doc Brown, now in his mid-fifties, stood at the counter. Marty immediately looked away, out the window, knowing full well the implications if Doc saw him now. They wouldn't be friends for.... Marty did some quick calculations. Six years. If Doc saw him now, not as an eight-year- old kid but as an eighteen-year-old, the questions would be sure to fly. And paradoxes, Marty thought uneasily, pressing himself as close to the wall as he could in his booth.
"Dr. Brown," Lou said gruffly. "What brings you here?"
"Well, I was getting a little sick of Burger King and thought a square meal might do me good," Doc Brown said. Marty risked a quick glanced towards the counter. Thankfully, Doc's back was to him. Lou was looking at the scientist with a tad bit of uneasiness on his face. Marty recognized the look--seemed like almost everyone in Hill Valley looked at Doc Brown like that. It was a strange mixture of pity and fear on their faces.
"What'll ya want?" Lou asked. "The usual?"
"No, hot coffee and oatmeal'll be fine."
Doc started to turn around. Marty whipped his face towards the window. He leaned forward, his elbow on the table, and shielded his forehead with one of his hands, trying to block his face. Marty heard footsteps as Doc walked past his table without pause. When he risked another look up, again, he saw that the scientist was two booths over, his face buried in a newspaper.
Marty let out a soft sigh of relief, then decided it would be a good time to leave the building. He slipped out of the booth, in a rush, and slammed right into Lou, carrying the coffee over to Doc. The hot liquid missed Marty but spilled all over the front of Lou's white cook's apron.
"Oh shit!" Marty cried, horrified. "I'm sorry!"
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Doc start to lower the paper. Before Lou could say anything, Marty whirled around and rushed out of the cafe, into the bitter cold again. Marty slipped and stumbled as he hurried from the cafe, trying to get away from those big picture windows. At one point his feet slipped right out from under him and he landed, hard, on his back.
Ow, Marty thought, wincing in pain. He quickly got to his feet, saying a silent thanks that he hadn't struck his head in the fall. That would have certainly had nasty results, health issues aside.
Marty didn't start breathing again until he had rounded the corner and was out of sight of the cafe. Then his mind turned to a new concern and the original reason he was here in the first place--to speak to his younger self about going down the sledding course. Marty looked around, trying to find a clock to synch his watch to. His sense of time wasn't the greatest; even in college, he still seemed to come in late to class when he would swear he was on time!
Finally, when he reached the first neighborhood streets, Marty peeked in a window and saw a clock hanging on the wall. It was ten 'til seven. Marty memorized the time, then drew away from the window and reset his wristwatch.
"Now what?" Marty muttered aloud, shivering as another bitter wind blew by. He couldn't exactly drop by his house and ask to speak to himself! Marty knew it would be best to stay far, far away from his parents, George and Lorraine, now. If they recognized him as Calvin Klein, things could get mighty sticky.
Marty walked down the street, heading in the general direction of the lake, two miles away. If he remembered correctly, he would come outside around eight in the morning. Alone. Linda, his sister, was currently ten and had outgrown any interest in the art of sledding. And Dave, who would now be thirteen, wouldn't arrive on the scene until about nine that morning, to stop Marty from doing what he would regret not doing for so long.
I could intercept myself on the way to the lake, he realized, pausing in his walk. Marty thought again, trying to recall the route he would take to the lake. If he waited in the woods, which he would take as a shortcut, behind one of the trees....
Marty did just that, then watched the digital numbers on his wrist click slowly towards nine AM. It wasn't long before he started growing cold, real cold. Marty walked around a little, trying to get the circulation going again, then settled back down behind his post. Finally, at 8:11AM, he heard someone coming. Kids.
"I'll bet you anythin' that I can slide across the lake from the top of the hill!" one boy's voice bragged. Marty had the strangest sensation of deja vu at the sound of that voice. That's Steve Jenkings! God, he moved away in the fifth grade....
"Well, I bet I can jump higher than you!" another boy's voice boasted. Marty grinned crookedly, recognizing that voice, too, as one of his childhood friends. That's Josh Carter....
"So what?" another voice chimed in. "I'll get the best time on that hill! My sled is fastest than any of yours!"
And that would be Peter Adams, Marty thought, nodding to himself. He risked a look at the kids coming up the path, past his hiding place. They looked a lot younger than Marty remembered from originally, and he was shocked. Jeez, they look like they could be friends of Verne's!
Of course, Marty reminded himself, they were all eight or nine years old now. Naturally, they would seem a lot younger than he remembered when he had gone through things originally!
There was Josh Carter leading at the front, bundled in a dark blue winter jacket, mittens, and hat, carrying a plastic concave sled. Wisps of his curly brown hair--which he would later bleach at the age of sixteen, in the midst of teenage rebellion--peeked out from under the wool cap. Behind him was Steve Jenkings, dressed in a black jacket, mittens, and earmuffs. The boy was tall for his age, with a face full of freckles and red hair cut in a very out-of-date style, to Marty's eyes. Steve carried a Red Racer sled under his arm. Bringing up the rear was Peter Adams, bundled up in a red coat. His wire-rimmed glasses, perched on the end of his nose, were already fogging up in the cold. He had jet black hair, strands of which continued to fall into his eyes. Like Steve, he also carried a Red Racer sled.
"Things should be super fast with this ice, now," Steve announced. "I'll betcha we can all reach the lake an' slide across it at least halfway."
"Don't be such a dweeb, Jenkings," Peter said, rolling his dark eyes. "The lake is probably still covered with snow. It's hard to slide through that."
"But the snow's covered with ice now,"Josh reminded him. "I think Steve's probably on the ball with that. It could happen."
"Huh, maybe...." Peter muttered. "Hey, who's gonna be the first to go down it?"
The boys were all silent. Finally, Steve spoke. "We should get McFly to do it. He's supposed to meet us at the lake soon anyhow."
"Why Marty?" Josh asked.
"Why not?" Steve countered. "Anyway, he's small so he shouldn't be goin' as fast as we will. We can make sure things aren't too outta control with the course. I dunno about you, but I don't want to fly into a tree...."
Their voices faded as they walked out of earshot. Behind the tree, eighteen-year-old Marty was frowning. The strange happiness he had felt at seeing his old friends again had vanished, replaced by something else. A feeling of hurt and betrayal.
"And I thought Bo was the one who put them up to it," he muttered.
Five minutes later, Marty heard someone else coming. He was sure it would be himself, but it wasn't, not yet. Instead, Bo Tannen strode into view.
Bo was twelve, now, and the Tannen of Marty's generation. Biff had married some woman in the early '60's, but in 1977--a few months from where Marty was now, in fact--she would leave him and take their son with them. Marty wasn't sure where Bo ended up--would end up, he reminded himself now--but he had been quite happy to see him go. Bo had more or less left Dave alone, since he had a year on him, but took no such liberties with Marty as a kid. Luckily, he wasn't given much of an opportunity to bully him before his abrupt departure, what with their wide age gap and such. Still, run-ins with Bo were never pleasant.
Marty's eyes narrowed as the Tannen passed his post. Bo inherited all of his ancestor's distinctive features, both physical and psychological. He was scowling as he passed Marty, clad in an Army-fatigue-print winter jacket. His dark blond hair was uncombed and mussed, and his gray-green eyes were narrowed into angry-looking little slits.
Marty's memories of what had occurred with this great regret event were from before he had gone back and changed things with his parents--but he had a strong feeling that even though Biff became a pushover, his son hadn't. Griff Tannen, likely Bo's son, was proof that the evil gene in the Tannen lineage lived on. And though Marty knew many things had changed--for the better--with his intervention way back in that crazy weekend in October of '85, Marty was pretty sure that the majority of events in his own life with his friends had remained virtually unchanged.
"What an asshole," Marty muttered under his breath as Bo walked out of sight. He wondered, for one brief, wild instant, what would happen with the upcoming situation if he detained Bo in some way, kept him away from the lake and the other Marty. But he dismissed the idea almost immediately as too risky.
Not to mention Bo is already bigger than me now! Marty thought, smiling wryly.
Ten minutes later, just when Marty was starting to wonder how much cold a body could take before hypothermia set in, he heard the crunch of footsteps approach from the left. Marty shifted his eyes, waiting to meet the person. A second later the fifth kid entered his sights. Marty drew in a soft, sharp breath. It was him. It was eight-year-old Marty McFly.
Marty stared at himself. The boy walking along the icy path looked younger then Marty remembered when he was actually that age. He was easily the smallest of his friends--and a good deal shorter than Bo Tannen, that was certain--with a mop of brown hair and sharp blue eyes that matched the shade of his winter coat. Young Marty dragged a Red Racer as he trudged down the path, frowning faintly. The Marty hiding behind the tree found himself unable to move or take his eyes off himself ten years younger.
"This is weird," Marty murmured aloud.
It wasn't until eight-year-old Marty was almost out of sight that eighteen-year-old Marty remembered why he was there in the first place. He stood up, wincing at his sore, frozen muscles, then hurried after the younger boy. "Hey, kid," he called out.
Young Marty stopped and turned around. He looked at his older self approaching with a clear look of suspicion. "Yeah?" he said.
Marty stopped when his younger self spoke. Wow, did I really sound like that? he wondered, then plunged ahead before he could lose his nerve.
"Listen, I want to talk to you about something," Marty told his younger self. The boy frowned.
"My mom told me never to talk to strangers," the kid said.
Marty blinked, thrown off by that. It was true Lorraine had told her children that, but Marty knew by the time he was eight he probably wouldn't have cared what his mother said on the subject. It was an excuse, nothing more. But Marty wasn't going to be deterred by this excuse.
"I'm not a stranger," he said honestly to the boy. "I'm....an old friend of the family."
Young Marty looked at his older self skeptically. "How come I never met you, then?"
"I live a ways away," Marty said honestly.
"What's your name, then?" the boy asked.
"Uh, Calvin Klein," Marty said quickly. Hell, might as well stay consistent here.
Young Marty nodded to himself, as if confirming something. "Hey, you're the one who got my mom an' dad together, aren't you?"
"In a manner of speaking," Marty said. "Listen, I want to talk to you about something."
Young Marty folded his arms across his chest. "I'm listenin'."
Marty glanced down the pathway. What he said next had to be said in just the right way. "You're meeting your friends now, right?"
The suspicious look was back on the eight-year-old face. "Maybe. Who wants to know?"
"You are," Marty confirmed. "Listen, this is very important! They're gonna want you to go down the course first."
The boy's blue eyes widened. "How'd you know about that!" he gasped, interrupting his older self.
Marty smiled slightly. "I know you pretty well," he said. "Anyway, how I know isn't important. What is important is that you do the run first! Your friends are all gonna want you to. You can't stall, either, since Dave's going to come by around nine and bring you back to shop with your family."
The younger Marty stared at his older self with nothing short of amazement. "How do you know all this?" he asked finally. "Are you some kinda time traveler from the future, like in those stories my dad likes to write?"
Marty blinked at the accusation, hoping that he was able to keep the surprise he felt well- concealed. "Ah, no, don't be silly! I just know you, and I know what will happen. You have to take the run first! The guys will respect you then, and it'll save you years of teasing!"
Eight-year-old Marty looked interested with the word "respect." Yet he still appeared far from convinced on the wisdom of the stranger's words. "But it's dangerous," he said. "The guys an' I made it before it iced over last night. My parents would kill me if I got hurt, 'specially my mother! I'm her youngest, y'know," the boy added.
"You won't get hurt," Marty told himself confidently. "Trust me, I, ah, went down the run already myself."
The boy looked at him in surprise. "You? But you're old!"
"Not so old," Marty said, trying not to grin at the statement the kid had uttered. "What's wrong, you think that when you get to be a certain age you can't have fun anymore?"
The boy blushed and shook his head. "No, it's not that. I just thought....ah..."
"It's okay," Marty assured himself. "Anyway, you've gotta take that run first."
Young Marty still looked uneasy with the idea. "I dunno...." he hedged.
"Marty." The boy looked up in surprise at the sound of his name being uttered. Marty tried to ignore the weird feeling crawling down his spine at saying his own name to himself. "You've gotta do this. If you don't, you'll regret it for the rest of your life! And the kids will never let you forget it! You'll be setting yourself up for years of teasing."
Young Marty narrowed his eyes. "You sure it's safe?"
"As safe as can be," Marty said, remembering that no one had gotten hurt when the others finally did do the run. In fact, they had made it their mission that winter to remind Marty of the fun he'd missed by being a chicken with the entire thing. "So can I count on you do it?"
Young Marty thought about it a moment more, then nodded. "Yeah, fine. Now are you sure that the guys'll respect me for this? That they'll stop callin' me shrimp an' stuff?"
"Yep," Marty said, nodding. At least, I hope that's what results from this!
The boy looked at him a long moment, as if trying to decide if this stranger was setting him up for something, then nodded again. "Good. Do you wanna come and see me go down it?"
Marty smiled, incredibly tempted. But it wouldn't be a good idea, since he might mess up something that originally happened. "No, I can't. But I believe and trust you. Have fun."
Young Marty smiled, then turned around and continued down the path. "Oh!" he cried, stopping and turning around as Marty was about to leave. "Are you gonna see Mom and Dad later?"
Marty winced at the very idea. "No, I gotta get out of town," he said. "But tell them hello for me!"
The boy nodded. "'Kay," he said, starting down the path again.
Marty breathed a soft sigh of relief and turned around, heading the opposite way to return to the DeLorean. "I'm glad that's over with," he muttered, smiling.
Eight-year-old Marty McFly stopped and turned around, watching Calvin Klein walk away, his back to him. The boy frowned. Looks nothin' like he does in his pictures, he thought, recalling the famous designer's face. When the stranger was out of sight, Marty continued his journey to the lake, arriving there a few minutes later.
Josh Carter, Steve Jenkings, and Peter Adams were all waiting for him, along with another face that Marty wished desperately would find its way to the bottom of the frozen lake. Bo Tannen.
"Jeez, Marty, took you long enough to get 'ere!" Steve complained. "What took you so long?"
Marty shrugged at the complaint. "My mom," he said, stretching the truth a bit. For some reason, he was reluctant to tell his friends about the person in the woods. "How's the run?"
The three boys exchanged looks. "We...decided to wait until you got here before trying it out," Peter said, speaking for the group. A couple feet away, Bo Tannen smirked.
"Yeah, twerp," he said to Marty, his voice carrying a taunting note to it. "Go ahead, take the first run."
Marty looked at the Tannen, drawing himself up as tall as he could go. "Why don't you go hang out with your friends, Bo," he said, rolling his eyes. "Oh, wait, I forgot--you don't have any."
Marty's friends chuckled softly at the crack, but Bo's face darkened. He took a few steps forward in warning. "Listen, you little shrimp, are you askin' for a poundin'? 'Cause that's what I'm hearin'. I could care less if you sic your ol' man on my ol' man."
"McFly's right, Tannen," Josh said to Bo. "We made this course and we're gonna be the ones taking runs down it. Unless you wanna be the first to go, of course," he added graciously.
"No way, Josh," Marty told his friend. "I'm makin' the first run!"
Josh, Steve, and Peter all stared at him, goggle-eyed; Bo laughed. "You?" he roared, shaking his head. "You're too much of a little chicken for that!"
Marty stuck his tongue out at the older kid. "I may be little, but I ain't a chicken!" he swore. "Just watch me go!"
Marty picked up his sled and stepped forward, to the start of the course. He kneeled on the wooden sled, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. I can't believe I'm gonna do this! he thought, considering backing out for a split second. But the words of Calvin Klein came back to him then.
You have to take the run first! The guys will respect you then, and it'll save you years of teasing!
If there was even a chance of that happening, Marty wanted to seize it! He was so sick of everyone coming down on him just because he was a little shorter than everyone else! Since when did that mean he was a wimp? His parents assured him that it didn't, but they didn't understand why he was so defensive, nor so anxious to prove his friends and peers wrong. If that guy in the woods was right about this proving to everyone once and for all he was no chicken, then Marty knew he was gonna have to do it.
Marty felt a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, Marty," Steve said softly. "You don't have to do this. Let Tannen take the first run. The jerk deserves to be our guinea pig!"
But Marty shook his head. "Naw, I want to. Why should we let him have all the fun?" He turned to look at his friends and saw a respect in their eyes that he hadn't spotted before. Marty grinned at the look, savoring it. "See ya at the bottom!"
With that, he pushed off and let gravity take care of the rest. The metal runners on the sled picked up speed almost immediately, sliding on the fresh coating of ice that the freezing rain had given the snow. Marty gripped the sides of the sled tightly through his mittens, holding on as hard as he could.
The first ramp loomed ahead a few seconds after Marty started the run. The sled runners left the ground, sailing a few feet in the air before hitting the ice again.
"All right!" he heard his friends cheer from the top. Marty didn't look at them, his eyes set ahead on the next obstacle. The second ramp was higher than the first and things were moving so fast that the landscape was a white blur. Marty closed his eyes and leaned forward, gripping the sled even tighter. The sled took to the air, then landed on the path again after a few seconds.
"One more left!" he heard someone yell from the start. The sled picked up even more speed, trembling under Marty as it made a beeline for the last ramp. This one had taken the four of them a day to build, making the crest of the ramp a good four feet off the ground. Marty had sudden feeling of dread in his stomach as he hurtled towards the last obstacle.
It'll all be over in a minute! he told himself.
The sled reached the third ramp and shot towards the sky. Marty had the weirdly exuberant feeling of flying, which chased out the fear that had been weighing heavily on him since he started the run. "Yeah!" he cheered, thrusting one fist into the air.
He couldn't have chosen a worse time to execute such a move. The sudden gesture knocked the sled off balance, just as it was falling towards the ground again. Marty felt himself, and the sled, slip sideways. He knew, even before they reached the ground, that this was big trouble.
It wasn't supposed to happen like this! a voice screamed at the back of his mind, just before it ended.
Marty returned to his time only five minutes after leaving it, and several hours wiser. He flew over the dark streets, Christmas lights on houses blinking and shining below. After a few minutes of disorientation, Marty spotted the familiar building of Doc Brown's farmhouse below. But something was different.
"What happened to the Christmas lights?" Marty muttered aloud, squinting through the windshield. As hard as he looked, he couldn't see the lights. The house and lab, too, were dark.
Musta been a power outage, Marty thought, unconcerned. He landed the car on a street in a part of town that was still being built and developed, then drove it to the Brown place. Marty started to pull into the driveway, then slammed on the breaks.
"What the hell...." he murmured, reaching for the door latch and stepping out of the time machine. A cold, hard wind blew outside, making Marty shiver. He hardly noticed, though.
The buildings, which had been restored when he had left, now sagged with age. The paint was cracked, peeling. The windows were missing glass, and what glass remained was cracked and broken. The lawn was filled with weeds and garbage, and the driveway on which he now stood was packed dirt, unpaved.
Marty walked towards the house. "Hey!" he called. "Anyone there?"
As he drew closer, the DeLorean headlights shining on the front of the house, Marty could tell that the building had been abandon for some time. Nevertheless he climbed onto the porch. The aged wood creaked and groaned under his weight. Marty tried the door. The frame was warped from dampness. Marty gave it a hard push and the door opened inward, slowly, creaking. Wind blew through the glassless windows, blowing the garbage that was strewn around the front room. Beer cans rolled noisily across the floor.
Marty swallowed hard, not wanting to see anymore, and turned around. He ran back to the DeLorean, ducking inside to look at the time display.
DEC 23, 1986, 6:10PM
Destination Time
DEC 23, 1986, 6:16PM
Present Time
DEC 23, 1976, 9:31AM
Last Time Departed
HILL VALLEY, CA, USA
Destination Location
Marty reread the digital readouts five times, but they remained the same. He hadn't made a mistake in the time! So what the hell happened?
He looked at the curb, hoping that his black truck would be there. But that, too, was missing.
"I should find Doc, if I can," Marty whispered aloud, but he grimaced at the idea. If this had anything to do with the fact he had spoken to himself....
Marty got back in the DeLorean, trying to figure out what to do and where to go from where he is. Finally, he drove the DeLorean up the driveway, pried open the old, rusted barn doors, and pushed the car inside. Marty locked up the time machine, covered it with a dusty, grimy, old tarp, then left and closed the doors behind him. He shivered as he walked towards the street.
God, the temperature must've dropped about twenty degrees since I left! he thought, hugging his arms across his chest. Marty decided to drop by his house first, which would give him the chance to inquire about Doc--or at least look at the phone book his family had.
It was a chilly twenty minute walk to Marty's house in Lyon Estates. By the time he reached it, he knew he was going to be late to Jennifer's for their date. Maybe I could find Doc after that, he thought, starting up the driveway to his house. He opened the front door and stepped inside.
"Hey Ma!" he called, "where's the phone book? I gotta--"
The rest of the words fell from Marty's lips as he got his first look at the inside of the house. A strange sensation of deja vu hit him. Everything changed....back!
The inside of the house now looked exactly as it had before Marty had gone back in time the first time and changed things for his parents. An eerie feeling crept down the back of his neck at the sight of all the old, out -of-date, beat-up furniture.
"What the hell are you doing in here?!" a male voice demanded.
Marty spun around and saw his brother, Dave, heading down the hall, towards him. Dave looked angry, a dark scowl on his face. His clothes were mussed, wrinkled, and his brother had a good case of five-o-clock shadow on his face. Marty backed up without thinking about it and held up his hands.
"Hey, Dave, chill, okay? Where's Mom and Dad?"
Dave's scowl darkened as he glared at his younger brother. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't call the cops right now!"
Marty didn't get it. His mind was still reeling from the fact that things appeared to have changed back to the way they'd been before his dad had stood up to Biff. "Because I'm your brother and I live here," Marty said quickly. "God, Dave, don't you recognize me?"
Dave grabbed a heavy candlestick off the shelf nearby and brandished it at Marty. "I don't have a brother," he snapped. Marty got a good whiff of his brother's breath and detected several breeds of alcohol on it.
"What are you talking about?" Marty asked, feeling hopelessly confused. "It's me, Marty. Marty McFly!"
Dave advanced towards him slowly. "Get out of here, you little bastard!" he snarled, his face suddenly deathly white. "You have a lot of nerve, coming here tonight! Haven't you any feelings at all? You sick-o!" Dave threw the candlestick at Marty. Marty ducked, the object, slamming into the wall and knocking several pictures down. Then Dave did the last thing Marty would have expected--he started to cry.
Marty swallowed hard, an icy feeling twisting his guts. "Where's Mom and Dad?" he whispered.
Dave glared at him through tears and red-rimmed eyes. "They're out tonight--and you better be damn glad they're not here! Now get the hell out of our house before I call the cops!"
Marty nodded slowly, still feeling terribly frightened and confused. He turned around and left the house--his house! But something wouldn't let him leave all the way. Marty stopped while crossing the driveway, then turned around and went over to the gate at the side of the house. It wasn't locked. He slipped into the backyard crept over to his bedroom window, feeling like a cat burglar attempting a break-in. When he reached his window, Marty slowly and carefully raised himself up just enough to peek above the windowsill.
Light from a single lamp was burning in his room--which appeared nothing like the bedroom he had left. The bed was neatly made, with a comforter covered with a race car print. Posters of cars, bikes, and sports figures hung crooked on the walls. The desk was neat, the top cleared off--except for a half dozen or so framed pictures and snapshots. Marty leaned close to the glass, squinting and trying to see what was in those frames. But before he could, he saw Dave enter the room, weaving a bit from side-to-side. Marty ducked out of sight before his brother could see him, his heart pounding.
My room! he thought, stunned. I remember some of that stuff! I had that comforter and those posters when I was a kid....
Something very, very weird was going on.
Marty crawled away from the window, waiting until he had nearly reached the gate before standing up and leaving his house. He started running down the sidewalk, cold air biting his cheeks. Jennifer! Marty thought as he reached the entrance to his neighborhood. Maybe she'll know what's going on....
His girlfriend lived about half a mile away. Marty ran nearly the entire way, even though he felt like stopping after a couple minutes. He had this odd feeling, as if he had to hurry. Something was breathing down his neck, and Marty knew it was only a matter of time before it caught up with him.
Some-thing's-wrong, some-thing's-wrong! he thought, in time to the pounding of his footsteps on the concrete.
Jennifer's house looked the same as he remembered. Marty leaned against the mailbox for a moment, struggling to catch his breath before approaching the building. A lit Christmas tree was visible in the front window. Marty mounted the porch steps, then knocked on the door.
Footsteps hurried towards the door, then it was opened. Jennifer Parker stood before him. Her hair was longer than Marty remembered, permed in tight curls. She wore more make-up then Marty was used to seeing on her, and her clothes were a little more punk than her usual attire; black leather pants and a tight green sweater. But her face remained blessedly the same, under the layers of lipstick, blush, and mascara. Marty hardly thought about the other changes as he stared at her.
"Jennifer!" he cried, relieved. Jennifer frowned faintly.
"Yes, I'm Jennifer," she said. "Who are you?"
Marty stared at her, his mouth falling open. "Jennifer! It's me, Marty! Your boyfriend, Marty McFly!"
Jennifer took a step back. "I think you have the wrong house," she began, starting to shut the door. Marty blocked it with his foot.
"I do not," he said. "Your full name is Jennifer Jane Parker. Your birthday is October 29, 1968. You graduated Hill Valley High on June 7th. You're an only child, your mom works for a travel agency in town, your dad works at the courthouse, and you hate spiders!"
Jennifer stared at Marty, fear clearly in her eyes. "I don't know who you are but I suggest you leave before I call the police!"
Someone called to Jennifer from the back of the house. Someone else was with Marty's girlfriend. And it wasn't her father! "Is there a problem, Jen?"
"I'm not sure, Bo," Jennifer said. Marty's eyes widened at the name.
"Bo?!?" he gasped, taking a step back from the shock. "Not Bo Tannen?!"
Jennifer nodded, looking at him coolly. "Yes. My boyfriend, Bo Tannen."
Bo suddenly appeared behind Jennifer. He was nearly the spitting image of his father at the age of twenty-two, though more muscular than Marty remembered Biff being. Bo was wearing torn jeans and a Van Halen t-shirt a size too small. His hair was longer than his father's, spiked at the top.
Bo looked at Marty and scowled, as if he were a bug that needed to be swatted. "Is this guy hasslin' you, Jen?" Bo asked, looking at Jennifer.
Jennifer nodded, touching Bo's arm. "He says he's my boyfriend," she said, her eyes raking Marty over with a look that could best be described as disgust. "He must be some crazy, escaped from the hospital."
Marty couldn't say anything, too shocked that this creep was back in town, let alone now dating his girl! Bo stepped forward, pushing Jennifer behind him. "What's your name?"
"Marty McFly," Marty mumbled, not sure of anything anymore. Bo reacted to the name instantly, wincing as if he had been hit. His face paled a few shades, then darkened swiftly into a purple-red color.
"That's a pretty sick joke, even for my tastes," Bo said, glaring at him. He reached out and grabbed Marty's burgundy sweater by the collar, pulling him up a few inches. "I oughta slug you into the middle of next week, you little asshole!"
"What the hell are you talking about?" Marty asked, too confused to be scared. "It's my name, okay! Now I know we didn't have the best relationship when I was a kid--"
"Who is Marty McFly?" Jennifer interrupted, sounding frustrated.
Bo abruptly let go of Marty, nearly throwing him down. Marty fell backwards, nearly down the porch steps. "Never mind," Bo said, pushing her into the house. "Get out of here, loser," he added, glaring at Marty with a look cold enough to freeze lava. "If you ain't outta here in a minute, I'm callin' the cops on your ass."
The door slammed shut. The Christmas wreath that had been hanging there on a nail toppled to the ground. Marty sat where he had fallen for a moment, his mind reeling with shock, then slowly got up and brushed himself off.
"What in the hell is going on?" Marty said slowly. He considered knocking at the door again, then dismissed the idea. He already felt sick enough, seeing Jen and that creep from his past together like that. And he didn't feel like getting pummeled by Bo, or arrested.
"I've gotta find Doc!" Marty said aloud, his eyes wide. He ran away from the Parker house and had gone nearly four blocks before he realized he had no idea where he was going. Marty skidded to a stop, breathless again, his mind scrambling.
Things look like they changed back to the way they were before I first time traveled--and then some! So if that is true, then Doc Brown would probably be in his old place.
Marty reversed course, heading for the old garage that Doc lived in up until about 14 months ago. It was a couple miles away and it wasn't long before Marty had to slow to a walk, his sides aching from the exertion of that night. He wished desperately for at least his skateboard, which would cut his travel time considerably.
Eventually, Marty reached John F. Kennedy Drive, and Doc Brown's old place. He half expected it to be gone, demolished flat, but the building stood still. Better still, a light burned from within. Marty ran across the parking lot to his door, oblivious to the snow flurries that were beginning to fall. His hands were shaking as he struggled to open the gate in the chain link fence. Finally, finally, he got inside and headed straight for the door.
"Doc Brown?" he called, pounding on the wood. He heard noises from the inside, movement. After what seemed to Marty as an eternity, the door was opened.
Doc Brown stood in the doorway, looking older then Marty remembered, more frail--but undeniably Doc, clad in a crazy Hawaiian shirt and worn lab coat. "Yes?" he said shortly.
"Doc!" Marty cried, relieved beyond belief to see his old friend. "Oh, thank God!"
Doc frowned, narrowing his eyes. "Who are you?"
Marty's happiness vanished as quickly as it had come. "Doc?" he said, trying to laugh but failing miserably. "It's me, Marty McFly!"
"Marty McFly?" Doc repeated. He shook his head and shrugged. "I'm sorry, that doesn't ring a bell."
Marty braced himself against the doorframe, feeling dizzy. Not again! "Doc, come on! I know this is some kind of crazy, weird, alternate world, but you surely know me! For God sakes, you have every other time this has happened! Marty McFly! I'm the son of George and Lorraine McFly!"
Doc shook his head slowly. "I know of the McFlys and they have only one son."
"No, dammit!" Marty cried, frustrated and terrified at the same time. "I'm their son, too!"
Doc continued to shake his head from side-to-side, then suddenly paused. "Wait a minute," he said softly. "Marty McFly, Marty McFly....ah yes, now I remember!"
Marty sighed heavily, glad that someone finally recognized his name! "Thank God," he said shakily.
"Yes, Marty McFly," Doc continued, half to himself. He shook his head sadly. "The poor boy was killed ten years ago."
Marty stared at the scientist and inventor for a full minute, the words making no sense to him. "K-killed," he stuttered.
Doc nodded. "Yes. Some kind of accident, if I recall. Devastated his family." He shook his head again and sighed, then seemed to remember what the teenager had said to him. Doc's eyes narrowed all over again. "What did you say your name was?"
"Marty McFly," Marty whispered. "Oh God, no! I can't be! No, no, no, this wasn't the way things were supposed to turn out! No, it can't be true, it can't!"
He had to get away from here! Marty started to turn around, ready to run. Doc Brown reached out and grabbed his arm, stopping him.
"Wait," he said.
Marty looked at him, his heart racing from the news. "I can't be dead, Doc," he whispered, his face crumpling. "I can't...."
Before the scientist could say or do anything more, Marty felt his legs give way and cool blackness enveloped him.
There was a grave before him. Marty knelt on the grassy lawn of the cemetery and gazed at his tombstone. Here Lies Martin Seamus McFly. 6-7-68 to 12-23-76. Rest In Peace. Marty reached out and touched the chiseled words in the stone, his lower lip trembling. No. This couldn't be. This wasn't right.
"It wasn't supposed to happen like this," he whispered.
The tombstone before him suddenly rippled, as if it was made of water. The face of it changed, distorted, transforming into a photograph. Marty recognized it as one of those family portraits that was hung in his house, taken in 1978. But something was wrong with his image. Marty squinted at the picture of himself, aged 10, and he realized that with each passing second he was becoming more and more transparent. Like a ghost. Or like he was--
"Erased from existence," he murmured aloud.
Marty blinked. When he opened his eyes again, the graveyard and picture was gone. He saw shadows and soft light, and beams overhead. Marty blinked again, realizing he was lying down. A cold, damp towel rested on his forehead. The dizzying ticks and tocks of clocks surrounded him, nearly drowning out a radio as it played a choir version of "Silent Night."
"Hello?" Marty croaked, testing his voice. Remembering his dream, he reached over and pinched his arm, grateful that the flesh was still solid and real.
"Good, you're awake."
Marty turned his head on the pillow and saw Doc Brown hurrying to his side. "I wasn't sure how long it would be before the shock wore off. And you hit your head when you fainted. You'll have a nice bump there for a couple days, but I think it won't require any medical attention. How does it feel?"
Marty shrugged, only then noticing the dull headache he had, throbbing at the temples. "It's felt better. Am I still dead?"
Doc smiled at him, a bit crookedly. "I'm afraid so, Marty. I've pulled some newspapers on the event to research exactly what occurred--if you are up to hearing it. But first I think you should tell me about why you are here. I must admit, I'm a little confused."
"You're not the only one," Marty muttered. "Do you have a time machine now?"
Doc's face when white at the words. He sat down on a stool beside the cot. "How do you know about that?" he whispered, shocked.
"I know because that's what got me into this whole mess," Marty said.
"Impossible!" Doc scoffed. "The time machine isn't even finished yet! I'm a few months from completing it!"
"Maybe now," Marty said. "But where I'm from, you finished it on October 26, 1985. I was the second one to use it, after Einstein...."
Doc leaned closer to him, narrowing his eyes in an expression of scientific scrutiny. "What do you mean, where you're from?"
Marty sighed. "Listen, Doc, it's a real long story! But to make things short and sweet, here you go: When I was about 14, I started being your assistant. And friend. That's how I know you and everything. Anyway, earlier today I borrowed the time machine and decided to go back to 1976 and convince myself to take this one sledding run. It's always been one of my great regrets and--" Marty stopped abruptly as a strange look flitted across Doc's face. "What's wrong?"
Doc shook his head. "Never mind. Continue."
"Well, when I went back home, I found myself here. And I'm dead! Oh God!" Marty clenched his eyes shut, his head giving him a renewed burst of pain at the realization. "How can I be dead?" he moaned.
"It's very simple, now that you've told me what you have," Doc said. Marty opened his eyes and looked up at his friend.
"Then tell me what happened."
Doc eyed him for a moment, looking a little reluctant to do that very thing, then sighed. "All right. After you fainted I was about ready to call the cops. But before I did, I decided to check you for I.D. I found your wallet with your driver's license, which confirmed you were who you said you were. So I thought that even if it might be a cleaver fake, I would wait until you woke before even thinking of calling the authorities. Anyway," Doc added, "I don't believe it would have made much of a difference. The whole town thinks I'm a crackpot and I don't think they would have sent someone over for hours, if at all.
"While I waited for you to wake up after your swoon, I did a little research in the life of this Marty McFly character. I remembered vaguely hearing and reading about the incident when it occurred. It was quite a tragedy."
Marty's stomach clenched at the word "tragedy." "What happened?" he repeated.
"Well," Doc sighed again, "on December 23, 1976, Marty McFly was killed in a sledding accident. According to the reports, he lost control on a sledding course that himself and some friends had made next to the lake. He died almost instantly, of a broken neck."
Marty felt himself grow more and more pale at the words. If he hadn't been lying down, he would have fainted all over again! "Oh God," he murmured. "I killed myself!"
"It would appear so, in the literal sense," Doc Brown agreed.
"So why am I still alive?" Marty asked after a moment of silence. "Why didn't I vanish right away?"
"Two theories on that," Doc said, standing up and starting to pace across the room. "One, that it may take a few days or hours before the repercussions from your actions reach the present time. Like a pond when something is dropped into it--"
"The ripple effect," Marty interrupted. "I get it."
Doc looked surprised, but pressed on. "Secondly, there is a theory that time travel is not time travel in the literal sense at all, but a form of dimensional travel, where you move through different and alternate realities, rather then the same time line. If that is correct, then this is an alternate reality for you and you may not be in danger of fading away."
"Both are true, I think," Marty said. "The first time I traveled through time, I almost made sure I wasn't born, and I started fading out in this picture--"
"How far back did you travel from your present?" Doc asked.
"Thirty years."
"And how long before you started fading away?"
"Uh....about a week, I think."
Doc frowned for a moment, thinking. "So that would mean you have approximately 2.3 days before you will be erased from existence in this case."
Marty stared at him, amazed. "How do you figure?"
"If it took you a week to feel the effects of an incident from thirty years ago, it should take you only a third of that to feel the effects of something from ten years ago," Doc explained. "Simple logic and mathematics. So," he added, "why are both theories true of time and dimensional travel?"
"Because I've seen some of these alternate realities before," Marty said, wincing at the memories of those twisted places. "But, Doc, you--uh, your other self, I'd guess?--said that they were created by our time travels, so I dunno...."
Doc shrugged in turn. "The Universe is full of mysteries we may never know the answers to," he said, then changed the subject. "There really is only one logical course of action to rectify this dilemma of yours--you must go back to the point in time in which you skewed things and convince your younger self to not take the sledding run, like he chose in the original course of events."
Marty smiled wanly. "Easier said then done."
"Why is that? Do you still have the time machine you arrived here in?"
Marty nodded. "Yeah, I stashed it somewhere on the other side of town. But I--I mean, the me who was 8-years-old--did that sledding run probably a few minutes after talking to me." Marty paused thoughtfully. "I could always stop myself from--"
"Great Scott, no!" Doc cried, stopping dead in his tracks. "You cannot interfere with the actions of your other self back there! Did no one ever warn you of the dire consequences that could result from such a meeting?"
"Oh yeah," Marty said. "Sorry, I forgot. So I'm supposed to talk to my younger self after I talk to myself originally?" The conversation was really worsening Marty's headache!
Doc nodded. "Exactly. What happened in the original sequence of events?" "I didn't do the run because I stalled so long that my brother, Dave, came on the scene to tell me that our mom wanted us back to go shopping. And then I got sick the next day so I never got to do the run." Marty paused. "There's something I don't get, though--how come my friends who did the run never got hurt on it like I did?"
Doc shrugged at the question. "Who knows? If you believe in fate and destiny, perhaps it was just not destined for you to take that run--and you can see why, now. Or your friends were just luckier than you were."
"How come my girlfriend is going out with Biff Tannen's son?" Marty blurted out. "Bo Tannen and his mom moved away in '77 where I'm from!"
Doc shrugged again. "It is likely an indirect effect from the accident. According to the reports I read, Bo Tannen was one of those present at the accident. You never know what little things can happen from seemingly unrelated events." Doc looked at Marty hard. "What have you seen tonight? Who?"
"My brother. My house. My girlfriend, Jennifer Parker." Marty grimaced. "God, it was horrible to see them the way they were! They didn't know me or recognize me...."
"Reminds me of a film that frequently airs this time of year," Doc said. " 'It's a Wonderful Life.' You ever see it?"
Marty nodded. "Yeah, every year."
Doc walked over to the window and looked outside. "You've had a very unique opportunity," he said slowly. "To see how much your life--especially the last ten years of it--has effected people and the world. I almost envy you for it."
Marty snorted. "Hell, you wanna trade places with me, you got it!"
Doc looked away from the window. "Am I different to you now, then I am where you are from?"
Marty sat up and looked at the scientist. He looked older and haggard than his counterpart--probably since he hasn't had those future overhauls, Marty thought--though a spark still shone in his eyes. But there was also an air of melancholy that Marty hadn't felt or seen before around his friend.
"Yeah," he said, thinking of the Doc Brown he befriended, who now had Clara and the boys, "you are different where I'm from."
"I would wager it is a change for the better, is it not?" Doc asked.
Marty nodded. "Yeah, definitely."
"Then, see," Doc said, smiling. "It's fascinating how one person can create such changes in one person or the world," he added.
Marty nodded, thinking about the way his family had been after he'd tampered with time travel the first time. And how, because of him, Doc would survive being shot twice and marry and have children. And there was Jennifer, too....
"I guess I'll never look at my life the same again," he agreed, trying to laugh.
It was Doc's turn to nod. "Are you ready to leave now? You're running against time, you know."
Marty stood up. "Yeah, I guess I should go now. Can you give me a lift to the other time machine?"
"Certainly."
Marty ran to the woods, taking a different route then he had originally. He knew he had little more than an hour to intercept his younger self and convince him not to take the sledding run. Marty could only hope he would listen to himself--or, at the very least, be able to stall himself until Dave came to the scene.
God, I'm really going to confuse that kid! he thought, smiling humorlessly.
Marty reached the woods ten minutes later. He made sure to enter them the opposite way he had come to originally. He understood the risk of disaster if his other self caught sight of him. If he remembered correctly, he hadn't gone this far into the woods, so Marty knew he would be safe. He crouched down behind a clump of trees and waited.
Not much later Marty heard voices. It was his other self and his younger self, conversing the way they had originally.
"Hey, kid!"
"Yeah?"
"Listen, I want to talk to you about something...."
Marty had the oddest sensation as he listened to the conversation that he had already lived through....twice. Brings a whole new meaning to the phrase "talking to yourself," he thought.
It seemed like forever before Marty's other self left the scene. Marty waited, watching the path for his eight-year-old self. A couple minutes, young Marty came into view. Marty hesitated for just a moment before emerging from the trees and onto the path before himself. "Marty!"
The boy stopped in his tracks, his eyes widening and his jaw dropping! "No way!" he cried! "How'd you get ahead of me? I saw you go the other way!"
Marty shrugged, then got straight to the point. "You know that stuff I told you a moment ago? Well, forget it! You can't go down that course!"
Young Marty frowned, putting his hands on his hips. "Whaddaya talkin' about? You just told me to go, that the guys'd respect me for it!"
"Well, you can't go down first," Marty insisted. "You'll die if you do. It's far too dangerous."
The boy took a step back at the news, narrowing his eyes. "How'd you know? You told me you went down it and had no problems!"
"I lied," Marty said honestly. "I'm sorry, kid, but you really cannot go down that hill! It'll be the death of you if you go!"
Young Marty's frown deepened. "You're one strange person," he said. "Why'd you just tell me to go?"
"Uh, well, that's a long story and I don't really have the time to tell it to you," Marty said. "Just don't go. Let Bo Tannen go instead."
"Why should Bo Tannen getta go down it?" the kid asked. "He didn't even help build it!"
Marty shrugged. "Just don't go down it, okay? And trust me, I'll know if you went. Okay? Promise me you won't go down the run."
The boy pouted, rolling his eyes. "Maybe, maybe not," he said. "Why should I trust you? You keep jerkin' me around!"
Marty sighed softly, frustrated at his younger self's determination. "You will die if you go down," he said slowly and carefully. "I don't know why, but you will. You've gotta not go down. It'll wreck too much if you do, aside from just your life."
Young Marty stared into the face of his older self for a long moment. All at once the boy paled, as if finally accepting the weight of the words. "Okay," he said softly. "I'll not go down."
Marty let out another sigh, this one of relief, at the words. "Thank you," he said. "I'll see you....later."
"Wait!" the boy cried. "You're just gonna leave now?"
"I've got to," Marty said. "Don't worry, I trust you."
"But what if the guys want me to go down first?" the kid wanted to know. "What do I do then?"
"Stall," Marty advised his younger counterpart. "And ignore them. If they want you to do something that they won't do first themselves, then it's probably a pretty stupid idea!"
With that said, he turned and walked away, off the path and into the trees. He could feel the eyes of his younger self following him, trailing him until he stepped behind a thick growth of trees and was out of sight.
Marty McFly watched the stranger vanish from view, then heaved a sigh of puzzlement and frustration before picking up the tow rope to his sled and continuing his journey to the lake. Boy, that guy is weird! Marty thought, shaking his head.
He reached the lake a few minutes later. Josh Carter, Steve Jenkings, and Peter Adams were all waiting for him, along with another face that Marty wished desperately would find its way to the bottom of the frozen lake. Bo Tannen.
"Jeez, Marty, took you long enough to get 'ere!" Steve complained. "What took you so long?"
Marty shrugged at the complaint. "My mom," he said, stretching the truth a bit. For some reason, he was reluctant to tell his friends about the person in the woods. "How's the run?"
The three boys exchanged looks. "We...decided to wait until you got here before trying it out," Peter said, speaking for the group.
A couple feet away, Bo Tannen smirked. "Yeah, twerp," he said to Marty, his voice carrying a taunting note to it. "Go ahead, take the first run."
Marty looked at the Tannen, drawing himself up as tall as he could go. "Why don't you go hang out with your friends, Bo," he said, rolling his eyes. "Oh, wait, I forgot--you don't have any."
Marty's friends chuckled softly at the crack, but Bo's face darkened. He took a few steps forward in warning. "Listen, you little shrimp, are you askin' for a poundin'? 'Cause that's what I'm hearin'. I could care less if you sic your ol' man on my ol' man."
"McFly's right, Tannen," Josh said to Bo. "We made this course and we're gonna be the ones taking runs down it. Unless you wanna be the first to go, of course," he added graciously.
Bo Tannen's eyes rested on Marty. "I think McFly here should be the first down," he said, grinning wickedly.
Marty shook his head, remembering the words from the stranger the second time. "No way," he said. "You think you're so hot, you go down first!"
"You made it, you test it," Bo said. "I don't trust you little wimps. Probably booby-trapped somethin'."
Peter looked at Marty. "Hey, McFly, why don't you prove this goon wrong?"
"Why do I have to do it?" Marty protested, immediately. "You go!"
"We asked you first," Peter said. "Anyways, what're you afraid of? You know as well as I do that it's perfectly safe!"
"So?" Marty said. "Why should I risk my neck first? Why don't you or Steve or Josh go?"
Steve frowned at Marty. "McFly, don't be such a wimp."
"I'm not a wimp!" Marty cried defiantly. "Stop sayin' that!"
"Then go down the run," Josh said.
Marty scowled. "I am not--"
"Marty!"
Marty turned at the sound of his name. His thirteen-year-old brother, Dave, was hurrying towards the group. "What is it?" Marty grumped.
"Mom wants to go shopping and she sent me to get you," Dave explained. He noticed the course for the first time, and the sleds that all the boys held. "Hey, you guys built that?"
"Maybe," Steve said, shrugging.
Dave looked at the course and shook his head. "I wouldn't go down that today. It's wall too icy. You'd probably break your necks!" He looked at his little brother. "Come on, Marty."
Marty looked at the guys. "I've gotta go," he muttered. "Have fun on the run."
"We will," Peter said, a bit coolly. "Have fun shopping with your mommy."
Marty blushed as the guys cracked up at that, Bo laughing the loudest. He hurried after Dave, already a dozen feet ahead.
"Why'd you have to come in then?" he asked his older brother, scowling. "I was just gonna take that run."
"If you took that run, Mom an' Dad would kill you--after me," Dave said quickly. "God, Marty, let those other guys do it first. You shouldn't have to be goaded into doing something that dangerous."
Marty sighed. "Well, I guess I'll have a chance to go tomorrow...."
But, as it turned out, he never did.
Marty returned to 1986 around the time of his original arrival. He tried not to feel too nervous as he looked outside, searching for Doc Brown's house. If that had changed back to the way it was before, then he had to assume that his younger self had followed his orders the second time. After a moment of hopeless disorientation, Marty spotted the familiar white farmhouse and small barn. The Christmas lights were back on the structures, lit.
"Yes!" Marty exclaimed, a grin bursting onto his face. He headed for the ground, hardly caring about who would see the time machine as he landed it on the Brown driveway, then drove it into the barn/lab. He jumped out of the car, hurrying to get out and leave things the way he found them. He had to see his family, Jennifer! He had to make sure that they weren't the way he had left them in that other place!
A few minutes later, Marty was back in his truck--which had been resting at the curb exactly where he had parked it--and on his way to his house. He saw his parents' BMW parked in the driveway and felt a wave of relieve. They had not owned such a car in the other place.
Marty hastily pulled in next to it and got out. He ran inside the house, stopping in the entryway. The house appeared the same as he had left it earlier that evening -- not as he had left it 14 months before. The furniture was back to the nice, modern-looking stuff. There was a Christmas tree next to the fireplace, where a fire burned merrily.
"Marty?" His mother poked her head out of the kitchen and looked at her son. A small frown of puzzlement twisted her lips. "Is anything wrong?"
Marty shook his head, unable to stop grinning. "No way!" he said brightly. "Things are awesome!"
Lorraine McFly stared at her son as if he was speaking a foreign language. "Well, you are certainly in a good mood. Are you going to be having dinner with us tonight?"
Marty shook his head, already stepping towards the front door again. "No, Jen and I have a date and--oh, I almost forgot!" Marty turned sharply and ran down the hallway, to his room. He flicked the light on, grinning again as he saw his room was back to the way he'd left it when he and Jennifer had gone to the mall, earlier that day. He grabbed the brightly wrapped package off his desk and headed for the front door again.
As Marty ran outside, he slammed smack into his brother, Dave. "Hey, squirt, where're you off to in such a hurry?" Dave asked as Marty staggered back a few feet.
"Dave!" Marty cried. "God, it's good to see you!" His brother was wearing one of his suits, his hair combed and his face scrubbed and clean-shaven. Just like he normally looked here!
Dave smiled at him, a little puzzled. "Well, it's good to see you, too."
"Gotta go meet Jen!" Marty explained as he hurried to his truck. "See ya!"
Dave gave him a somewhat puzzled wave before stepping into the house. Marty tossed the package on the passenger seat as he got back in his truck and started it for the trip to Jennifer's. He broke the speed limit twice over in his rush to get to her house.
When he arrived at the Parker house, Marty waited a moment before getting out of the car. Jennifer's house, from the outside, appeared identical to the way it had been in that other horrible place. Marty was almost scared at what he would fine when he knocked on the door.
Don't be stupid, McFly, he told himself. If things hadn't changed, your family would have been completely different! Jennifer is the same as you left her before.
"Hope so," Marty murmured aloud. He finally picked up the gift and got out of the car, walking slowly up the porch steps. He knocked on the door and waited anxiously for Jennifer to answer it. A moment later, he was not disappointed.
"Jennifer!" Marty cried, grinning in relief. His girlfriend stood before him, wearing the same jeans and white sweater that she'd been in at the mall. Her hair hung in loose waves around her face. She bore little resemblance to the other Jennifer with Bo Tannen for a boyfriend.
"Marty," she said, smiling. "You're early."
Marty stepped inside her house. A movie was playing on the TV in the living room. "I'm sorry...."
Jennifer shut the door, shaking her head at the apology. "Don't worry about it."
Marty took off his jacket and lay it on the back of the couch before taking a seat there. "What are you watching?"
Jennifer smiled, reaching for the TV remote. "Oh, just that ol' holiday movie they play practically 24 hours a day now--'It's a Wonderful Life.' " She chuckled. "Call me sentimental, but I kinda like it."
Marty shivered inwardly, remembering his experience. "Yeah," he said, his voice a little odd. Jennifer heard it and looked at him as she turned off the TV.
"Is something wrong?" she asked, concerned.
Marty thought about telling her the entire story. He opened his mouth, the words on the tip of his tongue. Then he closed his mouth and smiled. "No, I'm fine. In fact, I couldn't be better. Really."
Jennifer either believed his words or didn't want to press the issue; she let it drop, going over to the lit Christmas tree and rifling around under it. "I have a gift for you," she began, smiling as she stood up, a wrapped-package in hand.
Marty returned the smile as he produced his gift. "Same here," he said. "Open mine first!"
Jennifer sat down beside him on the couch. "All right," she agreed, her voice filled with a child-like anticipation. She took the small package from Marty's hands, handing him his gift in turn. Then she started unwrapping the gift very carefully, doing her best not to tear the paper. Marty watched her for a minute, then sighed.
"Jeez, Jen, wrapping paper was made to be ripped!"
Jennifer looked up from her project and smiled. "I know, I'm just prolonging the anticipation," she said.
Marty heaved another overdramatic sigh. "Girls," he said, rolling his eyes. Jennifer stuck her tongue out at him, then continued her maddeningly slow assault of the package. Finally, finally, she unwrapped the gold paper from the small white box. Marty watched her face carefully as she lifted the lid off the box.
"Oh, Marty," she said softly. "They're beautiful." Jennifer lifted the earrings out of the box, small diamond chips that Marty had spent months stashing away money for. "You shouldn't have!"
Marty shrugged, pleased that Jennifer appeared to like the gift. "I wanted to," he said. "It's my money, I'll spend it how I want."
Jennifer shook her head. "Oh, God, it must've cost you a fortune...."
"Jen, it's okay. I put a little away at a time. I've been planning this for months! Anyway, it's a gift for cryin' out loud--don't try to worry yourself about how much it cost!"
Jennifer looked at Marty, her eyes glistening. "Thank you," she whispered, leaning over and kissing him. Marty put an arm around her, hugging her close. I can't believe I almost lost you tonight, he thought, closing his eyes and stroking her hair.
Jennifer pulled away a moment later. "Now it's your turn," she said, nodding towards the small gift in his lap as she started to exchange her current earrings for the small diamond studs that Marty had given her.
Marty had no such qualms about prolonging the anticipation or not tearing the paper; he relieved the box of it's paper in about five seconds. It was a plain, white, and gave him no clue about what lay inside. Marty lifted the top off the box and found an envelope. He looked up at Jennifer, puzzled. She nodded for him to open it. Marty ripped the end off the envelope and a pair of tickets fell into his hand.
"These aren't to Woodstock, are they?" he joked, remembering a similar gift from Doc Brown in June. Jennifer shook her head, smiling and not saying a word. Marty looked at the tickets and gasped.
"Oh my God! These are to the Huey Lewis concert next month! How the hell did you get these?! I thought they were sold out weeks ago!"
Jennifer smiled coyly. "I have connections," she said. "They're great seats, too. Orchestra section."
Marty grinned at her and gave her a grateful kiss. "This is great, Jennifer! Really, I don't think any other gift will top that this year!"
Jennifer smiled, pleased, and snuggled closer to him. "You're the best gift I could ever have," she said softly. "You know, I don't think that great regret of mine is such a great regret after all. I mean, if I'd ended up dating Chad, I might have never met you...."
Marty felt another cold chill in his bones at the subject being brought up again. "Yeah...."
"A part of me is still rather curious how things might've turned out the other way, though," Jennifer continued, sighing.
"You're better off not knowing, trust me," Marty said. "Although I guess seeing something like that would help you appreciate the way things did end up turning out."
Jennifer was quiet for a moment. "Have you ever had an experience like that?"
"Yeah," Marty said softly. "I did. And let me just say that as horrible as it was, I guess it did help me realize how much your life can change from altering one little seemingly insignificant incident."
"Did you go back and fix your great regret?" Jennifer asked.
Marty was shocked at her perception. "Well...yeah, I did. But then I saw why what happened originally happened. It's really a long story," he added.
"I understand," Jennifer said. "You don't have to talk about it. It's written all over your face." She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. "Merry Christmas."
Marty lifted a hand, touching her cheek gently. "Merry Christmas, Jen," he said, kissing her softly on the lips.