Back to the Future Part II

by CRAIG SHAW GARDNER

  Oh. Jennifer remembered that funny looking plate at the side of the front door. So that’s how it worked.

  But that meant she could finally get out ot here.

  Jennifer nodded to Doc. She stepped across the bathroom and looked out through the door she had entered. There was no one in either of the rooms she could see. She pushed opened the bathroom door and crept as quietly as she could toward the front door.

  She heard Grandma Lorraine loudly complaining behind her:

  ‘Marty, what’s the meaning of this fax?’

  ‘Believe me. Mom, it wasn’t my fault,' Marty Senior explained, a slight whine to his voice. ‘I just always seem to get a raw deal on everything!’

  At least, Jennifer hoped, if the family was busy arguing, they wouldn’t even look her way as she snuck out of the house. Now. all she had to do was find the - what had Doc Brown called it? - oh yeah, the thumb plate.

  There, next to the front door, was another fax machine, with another paper saying ‘YOU’RE FIRED!’ Jennifer realised they really did have these machines all over the house. And right beyond the machine was the metal plate she was looking for.

  She reached her hand forward, ready to press her thumb to the middle of the plate.

  ‘Welcome home, Jennifer!’ the computer boomed cheerily.

  Wait a moment. Should the computer be welcoming her when she was going out?

  The door opened before she could put her thumb on the plate.

  There was a woman standing in the doorway. A woman who looked an awful lot like her, only puffier, with more wrinkles, and dark circles under her eyes.

  Jennifer realised she was looking at her older self.

  'Oh, my god',’ she screamed. 'I’m old!’

  After that, everything went blank.

  * * *

  And all three of them. Doc. Marty and Jennifer, were busy elsewhere, so none of them could see Biff take off in the DeLorean, or, a moment later, land the DeLorean in the exact same spot. He quickly got out to hobble away, too quickly, maybe, because his cane got caught as the gull-wing door swung down. The cane snapped in two as Biff struggled with it. He took the half he had freed and hobbled away, leaving everything like it was before - except that now Biff no longer clutched the silver bag.

  Chapter Nine

  It was every bit as bad as Doc Brown thought it would be. A second after the two Jennifers spotted each other, both of them had fainted dead away.

  There was a little luck involved, though. Both of them had also fallen forward - the 2015 Jennifer into the house, and the 1985 version out onto the front steps. And Doc had been there to catch her, and pull her all the way outside so that the door would close behind her. That part was neat, if Doc thought so himself. Now all he had to do was maneouvre the unconscious Jennifer back to the car, and they could get out of here!

  As he steered the dead weight in his arms down the steps, he could hear Marty Senior’s voice through the door:

  ‘Looks like your mother's tranked again!’

  Doc sighed. Well, maybe Marty Senior and Jennifer didn’t have the happiest life in 2015, but there was nothing Doc Brown could do about it. He didn’t dare tamper anymore with their lives, in the past or the future! This fiasco with Jennifer had convinced him just how dangerous time travelling could be!

  Doc stopped to catch his breath. Jennifer weighed down Doc’s arms until they were almost numb, and he had barely managed to drag her twenty feet! Doc never realised how heavy an unconscious seventeen-year-old girl could be. He saw his young sidekick running up the walk, and decided he could use some help.

  ‘Marty!’ he called. ‘Come quick!’

  Marty looked terribly afraid as he ran up to the two of them.

  ‘Is she alive?’ he whispered as he looked down at Jennifer.

  ‘She’s in shock,’ Doc answered hurriedly, ’as I predicted, but otherwise she seems unhurt. Let's get her back to 1985, and then I’m going to destroy the time machine.’

  Marty looked up at Doc, the fear turned to surprise. ‘Destroy it? But what about all that stuff about humanity, finding out where we’re going, and why?’ Doc shook his head firmly. It had been a tough decision, but he wouldn’t go back on it now.

  'The risks are just too great - as this incident proves,’ he pointed out. ‘And I was behaving responsibly! Just imagine the danger if the time machine were to fall into the wrong hands!'

  That was funny. Doc could have sworn he heard that triple sonic boom - the same kind of boom that resulted from using the time machine. Oh, well. There were a lot of things in 2015 capable of making that kind of noise. He shifted some of Jennifer's weight into Marty’s arms.

  ‘My only regret,' Doc added, almost as an after-thought, ‘is that I'll never get a chance to visit my favourite historical era - the Old West. But time travelling is just too dangerous. Better I devote myself to studying the other great mystery of the Universe -women.’

  Marty shook his head.

  Doc. if you can solve that one, let me know.’ Jennifer between them, they walked back to the DeLorean.

  Marty climbed into the passenger seat, and he and Doc managed to lower Jennifer onto Marty’s lap. Einstein jumped into the back as Doc got behind the wheel. The scientist quickly entered their destination data. They were going home - to 1985!

  ‘We’ll come back after dark,’ Doc explained, setting their arrival for the middle of the night. ‘The less we’re seen, the better.’

  Doc turned around. The dog was playing with something in the back seat.

  ‘Einie, get that junk out of your mouth!'

  Doc pulled the crumpled silver bag from between Einstein's teeth.

  A silver bag? Something tugged at the back of Doc’s mind. Where had he seen a silver bag before? Where did that dog find this stuff, anyway?

  Doc started the time machine. It was time to go back where they belonged, where they could stop worrying and just let time take care of itself.

  Marty kept a firm grip on the unconscious Jennifer.

  He wanted to keep anything more from happening to her on the way home.

  ‘Altitude, seven thousand feet,’ Doc announced. That should be high enough.’ He glanced around to check on his passengers. ‘Marty. Einie. brace your-selves for temporal displacement!'

  Doc floored the accelerator, straight for a row of floating lane markers.

  They reached eighty-eight miles per hour in a matter of seconds.

  There was a blinding flash of light from the flux capacitor, accompanied by that moment when you seemed to go from travelling at eighty-eight miles per hour, to not travelling at all - as if, for an instant, you were suspended outside of time and space. Then there were the three sonic booms, and you were back going eighty-eight miles per hour again - except you were sometime else.

  Marty looked out the window. Wherever they were, the floating lane markers were gone. It was night, and all he could see were tiny lights far below. ‘Did we make it?’ Marty asked.

  As if in answer, a 747 jumbo jet roared much too close overhead. The DeLorean shook violently for a moment before Doc stabilised it again.

  ‘We’re back,’ Doc agreed. ‘Now let's get Jennifer home.

  He took the DeLorean down slowly, searching the lights below for familiar streets.

  A moment later, he set the car down on a quiet road outside of town as the wheels slipped back into place underneath.

  They drove the rest of the way to Jennifer's house.

  Even in the dark, Marty could see THE PARKERS in big block Ietters on the mailbox.

  Marty and Doc managed to get Jennifer out of the car, and gently carried her toward the house. Doc nodded ahead to the front porch.

  ‘Let's put her in the swing.'

  Wouldn't that just confuse Jennifer more when she woke up?

  'But she left from my house,' Marty pointed out.

  Doc thought about that for a second.

  'True,' he replied reasonably, 'but when she revives here at her own
house, and it’s dark, the disorientation will help convince her that it was all a dream.’

  Hmm, Marty thought. That sounded logical enough.

  ‘Okay,’ Marty agreed, ‘you’re the Doc.'

  They set her down on the porch swing. Jennifer began to snore softly. Marty guessed everything was going to be all right. But why did he still feel uneasy? May be it had something to do with the time travelling - sort of like jet lag.

  Still, there was something different - he turned away from Jennifer, ready to follow Doc back down to the car - but stopped when he saw the heavy iron grillwork that covered the windows to either side of the front door.

  ‘I must be crazy,' he muttered, half to himself. 'I don't remember bars on these windows.’ Maybe, he thought, that time-lag business played tricks with your memory, too.

  ‘Oh well, I guess -’ He had to get himself back together. He paused to take a deep breath, but stopped almost as soon as he started to inhale.

  ‘Jeez, something really stinks!' He barely kept himself from coughing. It was really foul!

  Doc sniffed the air and made a face of his own. ‘Must be a fire somewhere. We'd better get going.’

  Marty glanced over his shoulder at the sleeping Jennifer.

  Doc reassured Marty as they hurried back to the car.

  ‘She'll be fine. I’ll take you home, you can change clothes and come back for her in your truck.’

  Marty guessed that made sense, too. He shrugged and followed the older man.

  ‘You're the Doc.’

  They got back in the DeLorean and headed for Marty’s home, over in the Lyon Estates.

  Marty still couldn’t shake the feeling that things weren’t quite right. It probably had something to do with coming back here from the future - a future he realised he didn't know too much about.

  May be that’s what was bothering him - getting a glimpse of the future, but not his future - his or his family’s. Heaven knew it looked different to him now , around here - back in 1985, in what should be familiar surroundings. He noticed a boarded-up window |here and there as they drove through the late-night | streets, and there seemed to be twice as much trash everywhere as he had ever seen before. Even the road was awful - didn't Hill Valley ever fill in their pot holes?

  But the more he thought about it, the more he guessed time travel had something to do with all of this, not only this trip to the future, but his earlier visit to the past. He was probably ‘gaining a sense of perspective' - that was the sort of thing his parents would say - and seeing things about Hill Valley he never would have noticed before.

  Or maybe he was just tired and grumpy from all that action in the future.

  Doc pulled the DeLorean past the lion gates and into Marty’s neighbourhood. They stopped in front of Marty’s house. Marty jumped out and waved goodnight.

  ‘If you need me,’ Doc called out, patting the steering wheel, ‘I’ll be back at my lab, dismantling this thing. Let me know if you have any trouble convincing her it was all a dream.’

  ‘Or a nightmare,’ Marty added as he started up the walk.

  Doc nodded sagely, then drove away.

  Marty stopped, half-way up to the house.

  He heard a couple of sounds in the distance, explosions, really, like a car backfiring over and over again. It almost Bounded like gunfire.

  In Hill Valley? Get serious, McFlyl

  Marty hurried to the front door anyway. He stuck his key in the lock. It wouldn’t turn. Marty jiggled the key. It still didn’t work.

  ‘What the hell?’ Marty whispered.

  Somebody had changed the lock. But why? He supposed it must have something to do with the stuff he had done back in 1955, and the changes that stuff had caused - like his father becoming a successful writer and all - here in 1085. But, if that was true, shouldn’t Marty’s key have changed to fit the new lock? That’s the way he thought this time travel stuff worked. He guessed he still really didn’t understand Doc’s explanations after all.

  Oh, well. It was too late to try and figure out the mysteries of science. If he couldn't get in the front door, he'd go around the back way. He would have another chance to figure out everything in the morning.

  The gate leading into the back yard was locked too, with an impressive looking padlock. It wasn’t going to be as easy to get to sleep as Marty had once thought. But there was more than one way to get into his bedroom.

  He climbed on top of a garbage can, then jumped over the gate. There! That wasn’t so hard. He walked a few more paces until he was opposite his bedroom, and tried one of the windows. It opened easily. That was a relief! Marty had started to think there might be something wrong here.

  He climbed quickly inside, easing his foot down so that it would hit the top of his dresser.

  Wait a minute! The dresser wasn't there!

  Marty lost his balance and fell into the room. Onto a bed.

  Somebody screamed in his ear.

  Chapter Ten

  The light went on. A young black girl, maybe eleven or twelve, stared at him from less than a foot away, clutching her covers up to her neck.

  'Momma!’ she shrieked. ‘Dad! Help!’

  ‘Hey,’ Marty demanded, ‘who are you? What are you’ - he hesitated, looking around - ‘doing - in my - room?’

  This place had changed. His model airplanes, mini-amplifier, and posters of sports stars were gone, replaced by pink wallpaper, stuffed animals, and posters of Michael Jackson.

  Marty didn’t recognise this place at all. This wasn’t his room.

  This was a girl’s room.

  ‘Help! Daddy! Help!’ the room's rightful owner screamed as she jumped from bed. She grabbed a handful of things from her bureau and started to throw them at Marty.

  Marty ducked. This should have been his room. Where had he gone wrong?

  The door slammed open, and the rest of the family in fathar. mother and younger brother. All three stared at Marty.

  Marty was not pleased to see that the father was carrying a baseball bat.

  ‘Freeze, sucker!’ the father announced as he raised the bat above his head.

  Marty raised his hands.

  OK, take it easy,’he said slowly and clearly. ‘I don't want any trouble.'

  That didn't seem to impress the father at all. He raised his bat even higher.

  ‘Well, you got trouble now. you no-good trash! What are you doing in here with my daughter?’

  Marty looked around the room, as if an explanation might be hiding somewhere.

  'Nothing!' he insisted hastily. ‘It's all a mistake! I'm in the wrong house!'

  The younger brother jumped up and down. He was really getting into this.

  ‘Whoop him. Dad!’ he yelled happily. ‘He's lying!'

  ‘Shut up, Harold,’ his father told him. He looked past Marty at his daughter. ‘Loretta, did he touch you?’

  The girl nodded her head vigorously.

  ‘He jumped on me!’

  He did not, Marty thought! He more like - fell on her. But how could he explain that?

  The father took another step into the room.

  ‘Please, I’m sorry!’ Marty yelled back. ‘I just made a mistake!'

  ‘Damn right you made a mistake!'

  The father swung the baseball bat. Marty jumped I aside. The bat smashed into one of the girl’s bookshelves.

  ‘Dad, stop!' Loretta screamed. ‘You're breaking my stuff!'

  But her father was beyond listening. He swung again, missing Marty but smashing half the bottles on the top of the girl's dresser. Loretta ran across the room and started to beat on her father.

  This was Marty's chance. He had to get out of here! He jumped over Harold, past father, daughter and mother, and ran from the room.

  Whatever had happened, at least this house was laid out the same way as the one he remembered, and he easily made it down the hall to the front door. He unlocked the door and ran out into the street.

  He stopped to take one final lo
ok back at the place. It sure looked like his house.

  The father ran out onto the porch, bat still in hand. Marty decided it was time to leave the neighbourhood.

  ‘That’s right,’ the father yelled as the rest of his family came out to join him, ‘you keep running, sucker! And you tell that white trash realty company that I ain’t selling, you hear? We ain’t gonna be forced out!’

  ‘Lewis,’ the mother lectured her husband, ‘tomorrow, you're going to put bars on all the windows, understand?’

  ‘Like hell, I will, ’ the father replied, shouting more at Marty than at his family. ‘I won't have my family livin' in a jail! I won’t have that!’

  Marty heard more explosions in the distance. Boy, those sure sounded like gunfire!

  But the father wasn’t following him. After he had run a couple of blocks, Marty slowed down to catch his breath and figure out just where he was.

  A police car raced around the corner, sirens blaring, flashers blazing. Marty barely had time to jump out of the way before the cops sped by.

  What was going on here?

  He saw something bright across a yard a few hundred feet in front of him. He walked toward it, and realised it was the kind of broad yellow tape cops used to keep crowds from walking all over the evidence: DO NOT CROSS - POLICE INVESTIGATION IN PROGRESS. Marty stopped just before the tape, and saw two chalk outlines on the pavement on the other side - outlines in the shape of people. Inside each outline were darker spots that glistened in the streetlights. Marty realised those spots must be blood.

  This couldn’t be his old neighbourhood. Sure, he recognised houses, and the street signs were right, but still -

  ‘This is nuts,’ he said aloud. But he kept on walking. What else could he do?

  It was even worse when he got to the corner. There, in front of him, was Hill Valley High School - or maybe he should say what was left of Hill Valley High School. The place looked like it had been fire-bombed. Only half of it was still standing, and that was covered with deep black soot. What windows were left were boarded over, and the whole place was surrounded by a barbed wire fence - like the building had been in the middle of some kind of a war zone.