by Ian Doescher
LORRAINE Peace, David—hold thy tongue from ev’ry curse,
Lest it may land once more upon thy head.
Before thou leavest, let me kiss thee once—
I would bestow protection on thy cheek.
DAVE Yet quickly, Mother, or I miss my bus.
[Lorraine kisses Dave quickly.
LORRAINE Upon thy cheek lay I this zealous kiss,
As seal to this example of my love.
DAVE Farewell, good Father, till we meet again.
[Dave kisses George on the head.
What ho! The oil thou puttest on thy pate
Is past its prime and soon shall need a change!
GEORGE Ha, ha! Mine eldest hath a matchless humor.
[Exit Dave.
LINDA Young brother Marty, I do not purport
Nor have desire to schedule all thy trysts
Or be accomplice to thy rendezvous—
And yet, by kindness of a sister’s heart
I give thee this intelligence: whilst thou
Wert outside pouting o’er our broken car,
Twice wert thou callèd by thy Jennifer.
LORRAINE She is no friend of mine, nay, verily,
A lass who calls a lad doth ask for trouble.
Belike she would tempt angels unto sin.
LINDA Thine antiquated views, sweet Mother, keep
Not time with how the modern age doth dance:
There is no harm to call upon a lad.
LORRAINE These views, though they be antiquated, shall
Be mine whate’er the music doth require:
I ne’er shall move in time with fornication,
Nor dance unto the beat of primal lust.
’Tis terrible, a lass to call a lad,
A girl to chase a boy with siren song.
When I was young, I never chas’d a boy,
Ne’er call’d a boy upon the telephone,
Ne’er sat, whilst parking, with a naughty boy,
Engag’d in some impure activity.
LINDA How shall I, then, meet somebody to love,
To share the length and wonder of my days?
LORRAINE Kind Fate shall thread the matter carefully.
It shall be unto thee as ’twas for me,
When I thy father met so long ago.
LINDA Nay, ’twas not Fate—it was Grandfather’s car
Which hit my father with a dreadful force.
LORRAINE Nay, for Fate moves in a mysterious way,
Its wonders to perform. ’Twas meant to be.
If thy grandfather had not struck him, then
I’ll warrant none of ye had e’er been born.
LINDA One aspect of the tale, though, doth confuse:
What trade did Father ply that brought him to
The middle of the street that fateful day?
LORRAINE What was it, George? Remind me, if thou wilt—
Wert thou outside to watch a fledgling bird,
With feathers soft and body round and supple?
GEORGE What sayest thou, Lorraine? Yea, what impliest?
LORRAINE Whate’er it was, Grandfather hit him then—
The car did nearly make him carrion—
And brought the boy inside the house apace.
Thy father, who was then no father but
A helpless boy, and innocent of heart,
Did seem more like a puppy than a man.
My spirit nearly burst to see him ill,
And thus did hurt begin to turn my heart.
LINDA Thou hast this story told a thousand times,
That we, thy children, may recite it, too:
Thou did feel sorry for the bruis’d boy George,
So didst thou go with him unto the dance,
The Happy Fish that Swam Beneath the Sea.
LORRAINE Thy memory is far more fallible
Than thou dost think, dear, for the dance was call’d
Enchantment ’Neath the Sea. Our fond first date,
First evening of romance and courtship sweet,
First memories together, side by side,
First moments of a long life full of love.
There was a horrid thunderstorm that night—
Dost thou remember, George? [Aside:] He listens not,
Though somewhere deep within I know he hears.
[To Linda:] ’Twas there, upon the dance floor, that same night,
Thy father kiss’d me with a passion strong.
Then was it I did know, within my soul,
I would most gladly spend my life with him,
Live by him, day by day, to face the world,
We two a pair of lovers for the ages.
[George, not listening, laughs at the television.
GEORGE Ha! Television, what a fine invention,
Invention of ingenious, witty people,
Companion true unto my weary moments!
[Exeunt all but Lorraine.
LORRAINE My life hath not unfolded, since that night,
As I had once expected it would go.
Were I an author, writing out a life,
I might have put more passion in the tale,
More sweet sensation in the lovers’ scenes,
More pure emotion from the gentleman.
My life was writ with far too few surprises,
Too little of the shot of Cupid’s bow,
Too limited a taste of love’s great feast.
Had I the chance to script a page of life,
I would have more of kisses, more of touch,
More of the glances shar’d betwixt a pair
Of lovers who do know each other well.
Give me the pen, and I shall write a book
To put the famous tales of love to shame:
Eurydice and Orpheus? No match.
Kind Guinevere and Lancelot? A jest.
Isolde and Tristan? Feeble were their hearts.
Proud Paris and his Helen, she of Troy?
My story would outshine those lovers all.
Alas, I am no poet of love lines,
Nor are my days more than quotidian.
Lorraine doth live, not write, a human life,
In which she is not lover, nay, but wife.
[Exit.
SCENE 4
Twin Pines Mall.
Enter MARTY MCFLY, sleeping.
Enter DOCTOR EMMETT BROWN above,
on balcony, on the phone.
DOC Up, Marty, from thy rest, and come apace—
I hope thou art not sleeping whilst I wait?
[Marty wakes suddenly and answers the phone.
MARTY Nay, Doc, not sleep, but something very like.
I would not leave thee all alone tonight.
DOC Pray, hear me, Marty: I have quite forgot
The instrument wherewith I may record
Our goings-on tonight: my camera,
With video to capture our brave deeds.
Wilt thou unto my residence anon,
Delivering the camera thence to me?
MARTY At once. I’ll fail thee not, and see thee soon.
[Exit Doc. Marty rushes to Doc’s residence.
The selfsame camera he doth desire
Is here, and I shall bring it unto him,
Upon my trusted skateboard, through the town,
Now unto Twin Pines Mall to hear Doc’s plan,
With which he hath been recently obsess’d.
What it may prove to be I have no clue,
With Doc, though, ever is it interesting.
Enter EINSTEIN next to a cargo truck.
To Twin Pines Mall I come, and one fifteen
Is shown upon the clock that standeth here.
There is Doc’s truck, and there his loyal dog—
E’en Einstein, smartest canine I do know.
But where of Doc? O Einstein, dost thou know?
Where is thy master, hast thou seen him?
EINSTEIN —Woof!1
The back door of the tru
ck opens. Enter DOCTOR EMMETT BROWN in a DeLorean car.
MARTY What wonder’s this? What advent glorious?
Unless mine eyes deceive, before me is
The most distinctive silver frame of the
DeLorean—a car most nonpareil.
The future we do glimpse through these machines
Of which I’ve heard, but I have never seen.
E’en so, ’tis clear to me the car is chang’d,
With alterations built for certain tasks.
The plate upon its rear reads “OUTATIME,”
A message of some urgency, perchance,
Or with a deeper meaning yet to grasp?
All shall I soon discover, by my troth—
The doors of this, the stunning, four-wheel’d marvel,
Ope upward, like the wings of Pegasus.
Now, flank’d on ev’ry side by smoke and steam,
The figure of Doc Brown comes into view.
DOC My friend, good Marty! Thou art hither come!
MARTY Nor would I miss this moment, I do swear.
DOC Thou welcome art to mine experiment—
The biggest venture I did e’er attempt,
The one for which I’ve waited all my life.
MARTY Thou hast, I see, a sleek DeLorean…
DOC Be patient and thy questions shall find answer.
Begin to make a record of the night,
And I’ll unfurl a story to delight.
MARTY What dost thou wear? Is it a Devo suit?
DOC Nay, mind thou not—for if a problem comes
Along, be sure that I shall whip it, Marty.
MARTY Indeed. Proceed then, I beseech thee, Doc,
I stand prepar’d, thy genius to record.
[Marty begins using the video camera to record Doc.
DOC Friends, makers, countrymen, lend me your ears—
My name ye know: ’tis Doctor Emmett Brown.
I stand upon the stony parking lot
Of Twin Pines Mall, Hill Valley, California.
It is the early morn of Saturday,
October 26—Saint Crispin’s Day
Just past—of nineteen hundred eighty-five.
The time upon the clock is one eighteen,
Ante meridiem, to be precise.
Here ye shall witness history, my friends.
Observe my temporal experiment,
Which shall be number’d one—the very first.
Come, Einstein, climb inside the shiny car,
Which glows with silver sheen of mercury.
[Einstein jumps into the DeLorean’s driver’s seat.
In now, and sit thee down upon the seat.
Place now, as I assist, the safety belt
’Round thy belovèd, shaggy canine hide.
Behold ye, through the lens that doth not lie,
The clocks that Einstein and myself do wear:
Please note that Einstein’s clock is synchroniz’d
With this, mine own control watch, twin of his.
Canst see it, Marty, through the camera?
MARTY Forsooth! I see it clearly through the sight.
Proceed, I pray: thy tale, Doc, would cure deafness.
DOC Be well, my faithful Einstein. Watch thy head,
And may thy voyage bear abundant fruit.
[To Marty:] With this remote I’ll conquer the remote.
MARTY I prithee, is’t connected to the car?
DOC Behold, I bid thee, Marty.
MARTY —As thou wilt.
[Doc moves the car with the remote control.
[Aside:] Amazing power, held within his hands!
The potent car doth leap at his command,
An ’twere a phantom sat behind the wheel.
By Jove, the thing is fast—across the lot
It spins, with speed like chariot of old
That plung’d from high above when Icarus
Provok’d the gods and tried to touch the sun.
Doc, say: what is this power?
DOC —Film not me,
But keep the focus always on the car!
MARTY [aside:] The car doth face us, now, across the lot,
And though wise Doc hath park’d it far away,
’Tis ominous—its lights aim’d straight at us
As if it had its mind on some revenge
And we two were the target of its ire.
(How its bleak stare reminds me of a tale
About a rank enchantress nam’d Christine.)
DOC If ev’ry calculation is correct,
When this—my baby, source of all my hopes—
Doth hit upon the speed of eighty-eight,
In miles per hour, then Marty, verily,
Thine eyes shalt witness shit most serious.
MARTY [aside:] The car accelerates yet doth not move,
But spins its tires far faster than a cyclone.
It burneth rubber like a mighty pyre
And rocketh back and forth with energy,
Each centimeter itching for release.
The meter Doc doth hold goes up and up
And shows the speed potential rising higher—
Ten, twenty, thirty, forty, more than sixty,
E’en fleeter than a cheetah at a sprint.
Doc flips a switch, and now the car doth come!
It groweth closer, like a comet that
Doth make its way across the starry heav’ns
And passes through the atmosphere of Earth.
This comet, though, seems bound to hit us both!
The car approacheth quickly, like a bolt,
With Einstein smiling happily inside.
I am afeard! Hath Doc his senses lost?
Is mine own friend my doom?
DOC —Fear not. Behold!
The time is near—soon thou shalt wonders see.
MARTY Past seventy, past eighty! Then, a flash!
White light surrounds us, brighter than the sun.
[The car, approaching them quickly, disappears as it travels through time.
What’s this? A trick? A jest? The car is gone!
And in its wake, a pair of flaming tracks.
DOC Ha, ha! What hath I said to thee, my friend?
’Tis eighty-eight in miles per hour, forsooth!
The temporal displacement hath occurr’d
Precisely on the clock stroke of one twenty
And zero seconds!
MARTY —Zounds! The car is gone!
Naught doth remain except the metal plate,
Which burneth me as I do pick it up.
O “OUTATIME,” what doth your message mean?
This wondrous night entire is out of time,
And out of sense, and out of all belief.
What hast thou fashion’d, Doc? Is Einstein slain,
Disintegrated in a million pieces?
DOC Naught is disintegrated, Marty, nay!
Take heart and be thou calm—I shall explain.
Each molecule and bit of Einstein and
The car itself are utterly intact.
MARTY Intact, yet disappear’d? Hell’s fire, good Doc!
Where are they, if not here before our eyes?
DOC Thy question’s not appropriately ask’d:
’Tis not the “where,” my friend, it is the “when.”
My loyal Einstein hath, e’en here, become
The first time traveler the world hath known.
He hath been sent into the future! See?
One minute in the future, by my troth.
When ’tis one twenty-one and zero seconds,
Our time shall reach where he already is—
Where Einstein and the time machine are both.
MARTY For my part, I am so attir’d in wonder,
I know not what to say. Yet, prithee, speak:
Dost thou tell me thou built a time machine
Inside the frame of a DeLorean?
Was ever science in this humor plied?
Was e
ver science in this humor won?
DOC As I perceive the matter, if one shall
Create a time machine out of a car,
Then wherefore not fulfill the task with style?
Some matters practical give reason, too—
The stainless-steel construction of the car
Doth make the flux dispersal—[his watch beeps] O, take heed!
[Doc pushes Marty aside as the car reappears, skidding to a halt.
MARTY [aside:] Ah, me, that I were still at home abed.
DOC The car doth rock and creak and blow forth smoke,
As if it had experienc’d a storm
And was the worse for wear. I’ll ope the door.
Alack! A foul idea.
MARTY —Why? Is it hot?
For as it steameth so, methinks must be.
DOC Nay, nay, ’tis cold, like Satan’s heart itself.
My boot I shall employ to do the deed.
[Doc opens the door with his foot.
EINSTEIN Woof, woof!2
DOC —O, Einstein, wondrous animal!
Behold his clock and mine, the twain are split—
His runs behind, one minute after mine.
Yet both still tick, maintaining movements true.
MARTY The dog, it seems, hath liv’d.
DOC —The dog is well!
Completely unaware of what hath been—
In his experience, the trip was smooth,
A journey instantaneous, indeed.
Thus is his clock one minute after mine:
He hath that minute skipp’d, and instantly
Arriv’d upon this bank and shoal of time.
Come hither, and I’ll show thee how it works.
MARTY I shall, for more of this I’d gladly know.
[Doc and Marty approach the car.
DOC First, one must activate the time circuits.
Three screens display the when that thou shalt go:
The first one tells thee whither thou art bound,
The second telleth thee whence thou art come,
The third doth tell the where and when thou wert.
Thou must upon this simple keypad put
The time of thine intended destination.
Wouldst thou bear witness to the signing of
The Declaration of an Independence?
’Twould be July the fourth, of seventeen
And sev’nty-six. Mayhap thou wouldst prefer
To be a magus at the birth of Christ?
Thou shouldst put in December twenty-fifth
When anno Domini itself began!
What of this date, red-letter, I recall,
Within the very history of science?
November fifth, of nineteen fifty-five?
E’en as I type the code, the memories
Rush turbulently to my brain and do
Fill up my mind, like water in a tub.