by Ian Doescher
Back in the year of nineteen fifty-five.
MARTY What folly speak’st thou? Nineteen fifty-five!
[Lorraine turns on a light.
O eyes, can it be true? Thou art my m—
[Aside:] Yet how to end this word? Is this my mother?
Belike misapprehension or mirage?
My mirror, my misunderstanding? Fie!
LORRAINE My name is call’d Lorraine. Lorraine Baines, I.
MARTY Ma’am, so thou art, I see. Yet can it be?
Forsooth, this must be some peculiar dream.
Lorraine, ’tis thee, and yet it is not thee,
Ne’er have I seen thee passing…thin…as this.
LORRAINE Be calm, I bid thee, Calvin. Thou hast earn’d
A bruise upon thy pate for thy brave deeds.
MARTY I would be gone, but whither flew my pants?
LORRAINE Just there, atop my hope chest, yea, wherein
I place the articles of my desire.
Thou teachest me new things, good Calvin, for
I never have seen purple underwear.
MARTY Say, wherefore hast thou call’d me Calvin twice?
LORRAINE Is’t not thy name? Art thou call’d Calvin Klein?
For on thine underwear it is display’d.
[She reaches for the blanket as if to reveal Marty’s underwear.
MARTY [aside:] My codpiece is not thine for viewing, lass.
LORRAINE Belike thou art call’d Cal. Is this the case?
MARTY Nay, people call me Marty. ’Tis my name.
LORRAINE [aside:] So must I teach myself to call him, then,
Though in these many hours of fantasy
He was call’d Calvin in our married life.
[To Marty:] ’Tis well to meet thee, Calvin— Marty Klein.
[She sits next to him on the bed.
Is it agreeable, that I sit here?
MARTY O fine, ’tis fine. ’Tis well and fine. Fine well.
LORRAINE The bruise upon thy head is passing large…
[Lorraine reaches for Marty, who moves backward and falls off the bed.
STELLA [offstage:] Lorraine, art thou up there?
LORRAINE —My mother, fie!
Put on thy denim pantaloons anon,
And join my fam’ly at the supper table!
[Marty puts on his pants.
MARTY This situation goes from bad to worse:
My mother, now a youth, doth gaze on me
As if she were a doe and I the buck!
Enter STELLA BAINES.
STELLA Young Marty, welcome to our humble home.
Pray, how long hath thy ship been in the port?
MARTY Excuse me, for thy question is unclear.
STELLA I guess’d thou wert a sailor by thy clothes—
’Tis wherefore thou dost sport a life preserver.
MARTY The Coast Guard, truly. Semper paratus.
They walk into the family room. Enter SAM, MILTON, SALLY, TOBY, and JOEY BAINES, preparing for dinner. SAM attempts to make a television work.
STELLA Sam, meet the young man thou didst nearly slay.
He fareth well, the gods above be thank’d.
SAM Why wert thou in the middle of the street?
A lad thine age.
STELLA —O, pay to him no heed.
The man is in a bitter mood tonight.
Now, Sam, quit tampering with that machine—
For supper is upon us. Marty, dear,
Thou know’st Lorraine, meet also all her kin:
There’s Milton, Sally, Toby, and—just there,
Inside the playpen—little baby Joey.
MARTY [aside, to Joey:] Thou art mine uncle, Jailbird Joey, eh?
Methinks thou shouldst become accustom’d to
The bars of this, thy playpen, toddling knave!
STELLA Young Joey loveth being in his pen
And cries whenever he is taken out.
We, therefore, leave him constantly inside,
For what, methinks, could be the long-term harm?
And now, to eat. Dost thou like meatloaf, Marty?
MARTY Indeed, yet I should—
LORRAINE —Marty, sit thou here.
[Lorraine pushes a chair behind Marty, into which he falls.
STELLA Sam, I shall not repeat myself again—
Come hither now, stop playing with th’machine.
Be thou a charming host and take thy seat.
SAM Ha, ha! The matter is resolv’d at last—
The television worketh, by my wit.
We shall watch Jackie Gleason as we eat.
LORRAINE ’Tis our first television, verily—
My father hath acquir’d the thing today.
Hast thou a television, too, sweet Marty?
MARTY Of course, as thou shouldst know—we two possess.
MILTON Two, truly? Zounds, thou must be wondrous rich.
STELLA O, Milton, nay, the youth dost jest with thee,
For no one hath two television sets.
’Twould be a luxury beyond belief,
An excess past imagination’s bounds.
MARTY This program is familiar unto me—
I watch’d it once before; a classic ’tis.
Herein Ralph dresses as an alien,
“Bang, zoom!” he doth exclaim, like one from space.
MILTON What meanest thou hast watch’d the show ere now?
’Tis new, and not from some past wonder year.
MARTY Indeed, for thee. I spied it on a rerun.
MILTON What means this word, this rerun?
MARTY —Thou shalt learn.
STELLA Thou seemest so familiar to mine eyes.
Know I thy mother?
MARTY —Likely, very likely.
STELLA Then should I call her soon, that she may have
No cause to worry o’er thy whereabouts.
MARTY Thou canst not, mayst not, shalt not—er, I mean—
What I should say is no one is at home.
STELLA Hmm.
MARTY —Not yet.
STELLA —Hmm.
MARTY [aside:] —Another subject, quickly.
[to all:] Say, do ye ken the lane called Riverside?
SAM ’Tis on the other end of our fair town,
One block past Maple, on the eastern side.
MARTY Did I hear right? One block past Maple, yea?
’Tis nam’d for John F. Kennedy, is’t not?
SAM By all that is in heaven or in hell,
Tell me: who is this John F. Kennedy?
LORRAINE O Mother, if ’tis true that Marty’s parents
Are trav’ling now, should he not spend the night?
’Tis but our Christian duty, is it not?
To show our hospitality to strangers,
And mayhap entertain the angels thus?
’Tis certain Father nearly kill’d him when
He struck him with our wagon earlier.
STELLA Indeed, Lorraine doth speak the truth, young Marty.
Belike thou should remain here for a night,
Watch’d over by the Baineses and their bairns.
Thy life is our responsibility.
MARTY I do not know if ’tis a good idea…
LORRAINE He shall sleep in my room, e’en in my bed,
His tender cheek upon my pillow, yea,
His dreams caught in the ether with mine own,
And dancing merrily toward our future.
[Lorraine grasps Marty’s knee under the dinner table.
MARTY Alas, ’tis time to flee, to fly, to flow.
’Twas wonderful to meet ye, thank you all.
You were a gracious, gen’rous family,
And later I shall see ye once again.
Much later, far, far later, by my troth.
[Exit Marty.
STELLA A strange young man, indeed. Aye, passing strange.
SAM An idiot, a folly-fallen rogue.
It is his upbringing, I have no
doubt.
His errant parents, though I know them not,
May also be describ’d as idiots.
Lorraine, I bid thee hear thy father’s words:
An thou hast simple children such as he,
Be sure I shall disown thee presently.
[Exeunt.
SCENE 2
At Doc Brown’s house and just outside Hill Valley.
Enter MARTY MCFLY. The DeLorean is aside, outside of town, beneath some bushes.
MARTY Here am I: sixteen forty Riverside—
Though known to me as John F. Kennedy—
Wherein I should find Doc and make some sense
Of all that I have seen since I arriv’d.
Already have I witness’d things that I
Would never have believ’d, e’en yesterday.
My father and my mother both so young,
And fill’d with life and vigor as I ne’er
Have seen, their future still in front of them.
Doc shall know how to get me hence from here,
And take me once more to my rightful home.
Behold this house, how glorious and tall,
A mansion such as Doc could ne’er afford.
This must be that which once did catch afire,
Yet have I come before the match is struck.
I’ll knock upon the heavy wooden door—
Ne’er was a knock so vital to my life.
He knocks. Enter DOCTOR EMMETT BROWN at the door, wearing a contraption on his head.
Doc, is it thee?
DOC —Speak not a word, I pray.
[They enter the house.
Come thou inside, yet tell me not thy name,
Nor aught about thy life or thine intent.
MARTY Doc, I—
DOC —Nay, quiet! Tell me nothing, lad!
MARTY ’Tis me, ’tis Marty. Thou must help me, Doc.
DOC Tut, tut! Say naught, whilst I experiment.
[Doc affixes a large sensor to Marty’s forehead.
Thy thoughts I’ll read an ’twere a tome of tales,
As plain as Homer’s texts and Aesop’s fables.
Thou comest from a mighty distance.
MARTY —Yea!
DOC Hush, do not tell—for I may clearly read.
Thou comest in the hope that I, from thee,
Shall buy a regular subscription to
The Sat’rday Evening Post! ’Tis true?
MARTY —Nay, Doc.
DOC Art thou a politician, thus to speak
When none would wish to hear thee? Cease thy prattle.
I’ll read thy book again, and know its plot:
Thou wouldst receive, from me, donations for
The Coast Guard Youth Auxiliary. Aye?
[Marty pulls the sensor from his forehead.
MARTY Doc, hear me: I have from the future come.
Within a time machine of thine invention
Have I come hither—nineteen fifty-five.
Thy help I do require, to take me back
Unto mine own time—nineteen eighty-five.
DOC My God above—dost thou know what this means?
The import of thy words unto my work?
The finding thou hast here put on display?
It means this damn contraption worketh not!
MARTY Doc, thou must help, though thou believ’st me not.
Thou art the only one who knowledge hath
Of how this time machine of thine doth work!
DOC A time machine? I’ve not invented such.
MARTY I’ll prove it to thee, Doc. Behold this card:
My license wherewith I may drive a car—
It doth expire in nineteen eighty-seven.
See thou my birthday—I am not yet born!
This picture, too, see and believe, old friend:
My brother and my sister and myself.
The shirt she weareth tells the tale entire—
It readeth “Class of nineteen eighty-four.”
DOC ’Tis mediocre photographic fak’ry,
A child would do a better job than this
Most shoddy work by amateurish hand.
Thy brother’s hair is cut off from the rest.
MARTY I tell thee nothing but the honest truth.
Thou must believe, or find me a grave man.
DOC Pray tell me, then, thou future lad—who is
The president of these United States
Where thou com’st from: thy nineteen eighty-five?
MARTY ’Tis Ronald Reagan.
DOC —He? The actor? Ha!
Is Jerry Lewis, then, vice president?
Jane Wyman, I suppose, is our first lady?
Jack Benny, secretary of the treas’ry?
Shall jesters, then, become our senators?
Shall wrestling men become our governors?
Shall businessmen turn into heads of state?
[Doc begins to leave.
MARTY What, ho! Stay, Doc! I bid thee, wait and hear.
DOC Good even—of thy jests I’ve had enow.
Farewell, thou future lad, I shall no more.
[Doc shuts a door on Marty. Marty talks to him through the door.
MARTY Nay, Doc, I yet may prove I speak the truth.
The bruise thou hast, upon thy head of white,
I know whence it hath come, yea, and wherefore;
Thou didst unfold to me the tale entire.
Upon the precipice of thy commode
Thou stood’st, intent to fix a timepiece there.
Thou fell’st and knock’dst thy head upon the sink.
Then did a picture come into thy mind:
Thy miracle, the flux capacitor,
Which maketh possible time travel. Truly,
Believ’d I not before, yet now I do.
[Doc opens the door.
DOC Thy words, each one a wonder, do convince—
However strange, I see thou speakest true.
MARTY O blessèd change—thou hadst me worried so.
[They move to the hidden DeLorean.
I hid the time machine outside the town.
Something there is that doesn’t love a starter—
Therefore, beneath a bramble it doth lie
Until it can be made to drive once more.
DOC This strange contraption hath a car’s appearance,
Yet like no automobile I’ve e’er seen.
Once I did fall, this morning, I drew this.
[Doc pulls out a sketch of the flux capacitor.
MARTY The flux capacitor—I know it well.
Behold, my friend, the work of thirty years,
As I exhibit how a simple sketch
Hast, by thy hand, become reality.
[Marty opens the door and turns on the flux capacitor.
DOC It worketh! O, it worketh—mark the day
I finally invented aught that worketh!
MARTY Most certain ’tis it worketh. That I stand
In nineteen fifty-five is ample proof.
Thou couldst bet bottom dollar it is so.
DOC Let us sneak this unto my lab’ratory.
We shall return thee home, this do I vow!
[They push the DeLorean back to Doc’s house.
MARTY The night we sent me hither, to this time,
We made a record of th’experiment.
This video I shall connect unto
Thy television, that thou mayst behold.
[Marty connects the camera to the television.
Come now, and thou shalt see what we have done.
The video begins playing. DOC from the future speaks in the video.
DOC ’Tis I! Observe how old I have become.
VIDEO 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.
DOC Thanks be to God I still have all my hair,
Yet what are these strange garments I am wearing?
MARTY Array’d art thou in radiation suit.
DOC A radiation suit? Of course, of course!
From all the fallout of atomic war—
Methought it would be so; I see it is,
For never was there peacetime made to last.
Meanwhile, this small contraption doth amaze—
A handheld television studio,
With which one may record whate’er transpires.
No wonder ’tis, thy president was once
An actor, with his name known through the Globe;
His visage and comportment must be pleasing
Unto a television audience.
MARTY I have advanc’d the tape unto the part
That I would have thee see, Doc. Vital ’tis.
VIDEO DOC Nay, nay, the splendid craft’s electrical—
Yet it requires a nuclear reaction
To generate the mighty current of
The one point twenty-one in gigawatts—
DOC What did I say? I prithee, play it back.
[Marty rewinds the tape.
VIDEO DOC Nay, nay, the splendid craft’s electrical—
Yet it requires a nuclear reaction
To generate the mighty current of
The one point twenty-one in gigawatts
Of pow’r electrical that I do need.
DOC Fie! One point twenty-one in gigawatts!
Foh! Gigawatts of one point twenty-one!
Great Scott! What have I done? How can it be?
MARTY Doc, what in hell’s name is a gigawatt?
DOC How could I be so careless, so unthinking?
O, one point twenty-one in gigawatts.
[Doc picks up a picture of Thomas Edison.
Tom—friend, companion, and inventor wise—
How shall I generate this awesome pow’r?
Not even thee—in all thy harsh debates
With Tesla, as your two most brilliant minds
Did wrestle with these matters most electric—
Conceive of such a great and stagg’ring sum
As one point twenty-one in gigawatts.
It cannot be accomplish’d, can it? Nay!
MARTY ’Tis simple, Doc, and I shall tell thee how,
As thou in thirty years wilt tell it me:
We need no more than some plutonium.
DOC Ha! In thy nineteen eighty-five, perchance,
Plutonium is found in ev’ry market,
Upon the shelves with cheese or eggs or milk,
As simple in the buying as a pear
Or onions for a picknick at the park.
In nineteen fifty-five, however, ’tis
Far harder to obtain plutonium.
With my regrets, good Marty, I’ll explain: