Back to the Future Part II

by CRAIG SHAW GARDNER

  For the first time, Jennifer realised she might be lost in the future for good.

  If only it wasn’t too late!

  Doc Brown steered the car into Hilldale, a once-fashionable section of town that - to put it mildly - had seen better days.

  The cops, after identifying Jennifer from her thumb print, would have brought her here - to the McFly place. It was standard police procedure. What wouldn't have been standard was whatever happened to Jennifer after she got here - especially if an older, 2015 version of that same Jennifer had been at home. The implications ...

  Doc Brown didn’t want to think about these implications. This whole thing had gotten too complicated already.

  Doc looked over at his passenger as he landed the car. Marty was all smiles, turning quickly from the front windshield to the side window and back again, trying to see as much as he could in the darkness.

  'So I live in Hilldale?' he bubbled. 'Great! They just built it! Everybody says it's a real hip place to live.' He shook his fist victoriously. ‘Way to go. McFly!'

  Doc didn't have the heart to tell Marty about what happened to the neighbourhood. The less Marty knew about the future, the better.

  Doc set down the car around the corner from the McFly place - near enough to do the job quickly, but not so close as to be conspicuous.

  Now. all he needed was Einstein’s nose, and a little luck, and they could keep those implications he wouldn't think about from getting any worse. He opened his gull-wing door and climbed from the car, then turned to fish behind his seat for Jennifer’s purse which, fortuitously, had been left behind in the car.

  Ah! There it was, right behind that hoverboard Marty had picked up somewhere. He pulled the purse out and stuck it under Einstein's nose.

  ‘All right, Einie, pick up Jennifer's scent.'

  The dog snuffled the purse.

  ‘You got it?'

  The dog barked enthusiastically.

  ‘Good!’ Doc Brown smiled. 'Let’s find her.’

  He looked over at his eager teenage sidekick. There was one more thing that needed to be taken care of.

  Doc pointed to the car. ‘Marty, stay here. Change clothes. If I need you. I’ll holler.'

  Marty stared back at him. open-mouthed But. Doc

  Doe cut off Marty’s protest before he could begin. We can t risk you running into yourself,’ he said tirmly. C'mon, Einie.'

  Einstein jumped from the car and ran straight toward the McFly house, Good! That meant Jennifer had to be inside. With luck, he and his dog could get in there, grab the young lady, and get out in a matter of seconds. If not...

  Doc sighed softly and headed for the house. There wasn’t any time for ’if nots.’ There was only time to get the job done, before things got even more complicated.

  So this was Hilldale?

  Marty had gotten excited as soon as he had seen the twin signs by the entrance: HILLDALE - THE ADDRESS OF SUCCESS.

  But here they were, in this classy place, and Doc had told him to stay with the DeLorean and change his clothes!

  Marty pulled off his future hat, jacket and shoes, and fished in the gym bag for his regular 1985 clothes. He pulled out his sneakers first, put them on and knelt down to tie them. He missed the power laces already.

  A dog barked behind him. Marty glanced back, and saw a dog and a leash with nobody on the other end. The leash was just sort of hanging up there in the air. Of course! Marty thought. It must be some kind of automatic dogwalker. Wow, the future!

  The dog trotted obediently around the corner - the same corner Doc had taken a minute before. Maybe, Marty considered, now that he had his shoes on and all, maybe he should take a closer look at that dog, and, maybe, whatever else might be around the corner, like his future house. Sure, like Doc said, maybe it was dangerous to know too much about your future, but - hey - he already knew he lived here. What could it hurt if he went and took a little stroll?

  Marty dumped the gym bag in the back of the DeLorean and trotted around the corner.

  If only Marty hadn’t been so curious about his own future, what was about to happen might never have happened. Even if Marty had merely looked behind him before starting forward, it might have been prevented. Because if Marty had looked behind him, he might have seen the flying taxi coming down, the same flying taxi that old Biff Tannen had flagged down a little while ago. Perhaps Marty might have even seen old Biff in that flying taxi. But Marty didn't look behind him. He walked forward toward his future residence. And that would prove to be a serious mistake.

  ‘There!’ the old guy yelled from the back seat. ‘Up there!’

  Fred glanced over his shoulder to see the old guy pointing straight ahead. Fred turned back to look at the road. Yeah, there was the parked DeLorean. There was a kid kneeling in front of it, putting on a pair of shoes. At least, that's what it looked like the kid was doing. Fred wondered how many cars got stolen every night in a place like Hilldale?

  Well, Fred guessed, he was glad they found the car again. The taxi driver had thought the old guy in the back was going to have a heart attack when he had stopped the cab outside Hilldale. Fred didn t really like to go into this kind of neighbourhood, especially after dark. But. with a choice of getting a fare, or having a dead guy in his back seat, Fred had decided to make an exception in this case, and had taken the cab into Hilldale.

  Luckly for the old guy's continuing health, the DeLorean hadn't gotten very far ahead. Fred pulled up next to it as the old guy shouted 'You can let me off here!'

  Fred noticed that the kid had disappeared. Maybe the teenager had really been doing something to his shoes after all.

  The taxi driver glanced at the meter.

  ‘That’ll be 174.40.’

  The parrot on his shoulder squawked. ‘174.50!’

  Fred glanced back at the meter. Priscilla was right.

  ‘Oh yeah,’ he amended. ‘174.50. And I’d be careful in this neighbourhood, old timer.’

  But the old guy didn’t want to listen. He hastily pressed his thumb to the payment plate, then scrambled from the cab. He moved with amazing speed for somebody his age as he hobbled with the aid of his cane toward the DeLorean, a silver bag clutched in his free hand.

  He walked straight to the car, opened the door, and climbed inside.

  What was the old guy doing? Was that his car? Fred decided he didn’t want to know. He turned the cab around and headed out of Hilldale.

  Priscilla squawked chidingly in his ear. and Fred had to agree.

  After all this time, why hadn’t he learned to listen to his parrot?

  Chapter Eight

  He wished his wife would get home. She knew Marty’s mother and father were going to be here tonight, but she was still off on one of her little errands. Nump! If both their teenaged children could get home in time for the grandparents, was it too much to ask for their mother to show up, too?

  In the meantime, Marty’s mother was bustling around the food processors, getting everything ready for dinner. Grandma Lorraine always took over like this whenever Jennifer wasn’t here, which seemed to happen far too often recently. Where, Marty wondered, had he and Jennifer gone wrong?

  Grandma Lorraine stuck one of those expandable pizzas in the Hydrator - a real four-incher! That was one thing you could say about Marty McFly Senior’s parents: They weren’t cheap.

  so I thought,’ she continued cheerily as she distributed the plates, ‘it would be nice if we threw a little party for him.’

  The Hydrator beeped. His mother bustled happily back to the machine, pulling the now fifteen-inch pizza free. And she was nice enough not to mention that it had taken the Hydrator a full twelve-second cycle to finish their dinner - Marty wished he could afford one of those new six-second models.

  But. as nice as his mother was, there were still a few things that she just couldn't be realistic about. Like this party she kept going on about.

  'Mom.' Marty Senior replied patiently 'before we throw a party for Uncle Joey,
let's see if he makes parole.'

  'Fumble!’ Junior screamed. The readout on his glasses read ESPN-Ch 211-D. He must be watching the Spacers/Bears game.

  Grandma Lorraine brought the steaming pizza to the table.

  'George.’ she added gently, ‘rotate your axis, please. It’s not good for your digestion to eat while you’re inverted.’

  Marty’s father obediently pushed a button by his wrist. The ortho rig whirred into action, turning him sideways.

  'I can’t believe it!' Junior yelled.

  It must be a good game. The Bears were finally showing the rest of the IFL that they were no longer has-beens. They were having their best season in almost thirty years! Marty Senior half-wished he could watch the game himself.

  Grandma Lorraine sat down at the table. The pizza looked great. They d have a real family dinner for a change, Marty thought, even though Jennifer still wasn't home.

  Pass the kelp tea. please.' Marty asked his daughter.

  Marlene pouted behind her own set of vidglasses. No. she whined. 'I don’t want to, so nump off!’

  Take him out of the game! ’ Junior pounded his fists on the table.

  'Marlene!' Grandma Lorraine reprimanded sharply. ‘Don’t talk to your father like that!’

  ‘Grandma!’ Marlene barked, pointing at the word and number display on her vidglasses. ‘I’m on the phone, OK?’ Marty’s daughter looked away, long-suffering, as if no teenager should ever have to put up with this sort of thing.

  Somebody’s beeper started to chatter as red lights went off on both of the kid’s vidglasses. Marty looked down at the flashing light in his pocket.

  It was his beeper.

  ‘Dad!’ Junior and Marlene yelled together. Telephone! It’s Needles!’

  Marty stood up and flipped off his signal. Suddenly his throat was very dry. He felt like everybody at the dinner table was watching him - even the kids behind their vidglasses. If this call was what he thought it was, he’d need a little privacy.

  ‘I’ll take it in the den.’ He walked from the room, sliding the door closed behind him.

  He paused a minute as he passed the mirror to straighten his ties and make sure his hair was combed. This was a serious decision he had to make. It might change his whole future - for the better, Marty hoped. Maybe he could make things up to Jennifer, give her all those things she should have gotten. If only this deal were a little more straightforward - Marty stopped himself with a final check in the mirror. When Needles talked with him on the vidphone, he wanted to look his best.

  He walked quickly in front of the video screen.

  What was that? He blinked, and shook his head.

  For a second there, he thought he had seen somethine out of the corner of his eye. In fact, he could have sworn that Jennifer had been peeking around the edge of the bathroom door. He was so nervous, he must be imagining things.

  He picked up the remote control and banished the art channel painting to the corner of the screen.

  Needles smiled his gap-toothed grin as his head and shoulders filled the rest of the video display and his identification code flashed on: NEEDLES, DOUGLAS J. ADDRESS: 88 ORIOLE RD. A6TB-94. That was his home address; not that Needles was ever home. From the row of vidmemos behind him, Marty could tell the other man was still at his station at work. Sometimes Marty wondered if Needles ever left the office.

  ‘Hey, the Big M!’ Needles began boisterously. ’How’s it hangin’, McFly?’

  ‘Hey, Needles,' Marty replied, trying not to sound nervous.

  Needles didn't seem to notice. Instead, he launched quickly into exactly what Marty had to do if their little plan was going to work. Somehow, whenever Needles explained this sort of thing - in all the years they had known each other, ever since high school -it always sounded so easy.

  So what do you say, Marty?' he finished breezily, once more flashing the grin that had gotten Needles to a position in the organization that Marty could never hope to reach.

  Marty opened his mouth, but no noise came out. Despite all the things he wanted, he was having a real hard time saying yes.

  'I - he managed at last. ‘Uh - '

  'McFly!' Needles insisted. ‘What are you afraid of? If this things works, it'll solve all your financial problems.'

  'And if it doesn't work, I could get fired!' Marty retorted, finding his voice at last. There was one thing his co-worker forgot to mention, something Marty had to get out in the open. ‘It’s illegal. Needles.’

  Marty had another thought. Needles was calling from the office. Everybody knew the way their boss was with personal calls!

  What if “the Jits” is monitoring?’ Marty asked, his voice suddenly hushed.

  Needles looked Marty straight in the screen.

  ‘ “The Jits” will never find out. Come on, just stick your card in the slot and I’ll handle it. Unless you want everyone in the division to think you’re’- Needles paused ominously -‘chicken.’

  Chicken?

  The screen suddenly appeared to turn red before Marty’s eyes. Blood rushed in his ears; his heart jack-hammered in his chest.

  Chicken?

  He spat out the words from between clenched teeth:

  ‘Nobody calls me chicken!'

  Needles nodded curtly, his grin even broader than before.

  ‘All right,’ he said to Marty. ‘Prove it.’

  That was it! He’d show Needles. He’d show Jennifer and his kids and his parents and everybody who ever thought he was a failure. He’d show everybody! He whipped out his wallet and pulled free his card.

  ‘Here,’ he almost shouted, plugging his card into the slot in his brief-case as the lights along the side flashed his personal code. ‘Scan it! I’m in.’

  Needles did just that. Marty heard a quick series of electronic tones as his bar codes were recorded on the deal. Thanks. McFly,’ Needles said, the easy grin once again in place. ‘See you at the plant tomorrow.'

  Needles cut the connection. The screen went blank.

  Marty took a deep breath. Well, that was that. He hadn’t really meant to go along - there were all these complications that the rest of the guys had sort of ignored. But Needles had called him chicken - nobody called him chicken! - and he was in.

  His card had been scanned and put on record. There was no turning back - and maybe Needles was right -maybe his future road was paved with gold.

  He pressed the remote, flipping the art channel so that it once again filled the screen. Marty felt exhausted. All he wanted to do now was get back into the other room and finish his dinner.

  He turned away from the video screen.

  ‘McFly!’ a voice rumbled behind him.

  It was the last voice in the world Marty wanted to hear. This had to be coincidence. Didn’t it?

  He turned back to the screen and the full-sized image of his glowering boss.

  ‘Mr Fujitsu, sir!’ Marty did his best to smile. Good evening, sir!’

  The boss stared at Marty for a moment; the large man was seething silently. Maybe it was the formal dress kimono that his boss liked to wear in the evenings, but whenever Fujitsu got like this, he always reminded Marty of a meditating Samurai warrior just before he went on a killing rampage.

  Marty realised his throat had gone dry all over again.

  'McFly,’ Fujitsu said slowly and all-too-clearly, ‘I was monitoring that scan you just interfaced. You're terminated!’

  No! His boss couldn't mean that!

  ‘Terminated?’ Marty protested. ‘But sir! It wasn't my idea! Needles was behind it!’ Surely, his boss could see the truth in that.

  ‘And you co-operated,’ Fujitsu continued, unswayed by Marty's argument. ‘It was illegal, and you knew it.’ The boss’s voice was growing quieter. It was always worse when an angry Fujitsu got quiet. Marty could almost feel that samurai sword slicing through his future.

  ‘You’re fired, McFly,’ Fujitsu concluded calmly. ‘Goodbye.’

  Fired? Just like that?

>   ‘But sir -’ Marty began rapidly. It wasn’t his fault. There had to be some way to get the boss to see that. Needles had called Marty chicken! Nobody called Marty chicken!

  ‘McFly!’ Fujitsu cut him off abruptly. ‘Read my fax!’ The boss's face disappeared from the screen, replaced by a piece of company stationery, addressed to Marty McFly Senior. Besides the address, and Fujitsu's signature on the bottom, there were only two words on that piece of paper:

  YOU'RE FIRED!

  Fired?

  Marty could hear the soft whir of the fax unit on the other side of the den as it printed out the facsimile copy of the message on the screen.

  And Fujitsu was gone. He had broken the connection - the art channel once again filled the screen.

  Marty could almost feel the sword in his heart. His future was over.

  * * *

  Jennifer jumped as a machine whirred by her elbow.

  She glanced over at the piece of paper the machine spat out, a piece of paper filled mostly with two very large words:

  YOU’RE FIRED!

  Jennifer picked up the sheet of paper. This must be the ‘fax' that the muscular Japanese fellow had been talking about on the TV screen. And it printed this paper in the bathroom? Jennifer wondered if there were machines like this in every room of the house.

  ‘Jennifer!’

  She jumped all over again as the voice whispered her name behind her. She crumpled the paper and thrust it in her pocket, whirling around to see who had called her.

  There, looking in the bathroom window, was Doc Brown!

  Doc Brown? Jennifer had never been so happy to see a scientist in her entire life!

  ‘Go out the front door!' Doc Brown whispered urgently. ‘I’ll meet you there!’

  Jennifer frowned, her happiness once again drowned in a sea of confusion. Out the front door? But, how could she get out the front door?

  ‘It won’t open!’ she complained. ‘There’s no doorknob!’

  Doc nodded as if it was only now that he understood.

  Press your thumb to the plate!’ he explained.