Back to the Future Part II

by CRAIG SHAW GARDNER

  He pulled out the mini-binoculars Doc had given him, and scanned the room. There was George Mcfly, his father to be, standing around and looking nervous at the other end of the gym. It was early enough in the evening that 'Calvin' and Lorraine wouldn't be here yet. And there, in the middle of the room, was Mr Strickland, his bald head bobbing up and down as he prowled the dance floor for slackers. Heck, now that he no longer had his scar and shotgun, Marty was almost glad to see Mr Strickland.

  Biff was over in the other corner of the room, surrounded by his usual gang - 3-D, Match and Skinhead. They were all gathered around a couple of digest-sized magazines Biff had with him, leering at whatever was inside. Marty studied the covers with his binoculars. Their titles were in French. One of them was called Ooh-La-La! From the pictures on the covers, they looked like girlie magazines - trust Biff to bring something like that to the dance. Biff pointed at some particular detail while the other guys all laughed. The four of them were also passing a small bottle of booze around, taking quick drinks whenever Strickland’s back was turned.

  But they hadn’t been careful enough. Marty could see Strickland had stopped on the other side of the room, his beady eyes staring at Biff and his boys. Skinhead saw Strickland, too. He nudged Biff. Their eader looked up at the vice-principal, then said something to the whole gang. All four of them walked toward the front door.

  Marty quickly walked around the edge of the gym, careful to keep close to the walls, but heading for the same exit. Biff and his gang had moved fast. They had already passed through the doorway. He didn t want to lose them now!

  Marty stepped outside quickly, once again moving into the shadows beyond the party lights, slowly going down the front steps of the school. He Stopped on the edge of the first landing. There, on the next landing below him, were Biff and his Gang, with their magazines and booze.

  Biff hit a picture of a naked girl with the tips of his fingers.

  ‘Y’know,’ he said slowly, ‘a smart guy could make a lot of dough dealin’ this kind of stuff. ’

  3-D drained the last of the booze from the bottle. He handed the empty to Biff.

  ‘Drink up, Biff!’ 3-D called.

  Biff lifted the bottle to his lips. His eyes opened wide when he realised it was empty.

  Skinhead, Match and 3-D laughed as if that was the funniest thing they had ever seen.

  Biff threw down the bottle and punched 3-D’s shoulder. ‘That's so funny, I forgot to laugh.'

  He looked out over the school parking lot as couples started to climb the stairs toward the dance.

  ‘So where’s that Calvin Klein creep?’

  ‘We don’t know, Biff,’ Skinhead replied sarcastically. ‘We ain’t his secretary!’

  The guys started to laugh all over again.

  ‘Well, go find him!’ Biff barked angrily, killing the laughter before it could really begin.

  The three stooges turned to go up the stairs again, back into the gym.

  Marty spun around so that his back was to them. He didn’t want to get spotted by the gang - not when he was this close!

  Marty spun around so that his back was to them. He didn’t want to get spotted by the gang - not when he was this close!

  'Ain't you comin', Biff?' Match asked.

  Biff shook the girlie magazine in his hand.

  'I'm readin'.'

  Marty continued to pivot away from the gang members as hey climbed the stairs past him.

  Marty found himself looking back down at Biff. The burly teenager had stuck himself in a corner on the next landing, between the doorway to the high school annex and a chain link fence. Biff leaned against the fence and flipped through the magazine, grunting or snickering whenever he found anything particularly to his liking.

  But, besides Biff’s laughter, Marty realised, there wasn’t a sound out here. His three buddies had gone back into the dance, to look for ‘Calvin’. Biff was all alone. And Marty could see the Almanac, shoved in the back of Biff’s pants.

  Maybe it was time for Marty to make his move. He glanced around to see how many other kids were around - the fewer the better, Marty figured. This confrontation with Biff might get messy.

  He stopped when he saw a yellow Packard pull into the parking area. That yellow Packard was very familiar. He pulled out his binoculars to get a closer look. Yep, there was Lorraine in the passenger seat, wearing that dress she’d bought earlier today. And he, Marty McFly, was driving. Marty was standing here, with the binoculars, watching himself. He was two places at one time.

  Marty had to admit it.

  ‘This is getting strange,’ he whispered.

  Strange or not, there was nobody else around this corner of the schoolyard at the moment. Marty might not get another opportunity as good as this. He had to get that book now.

  He jumped from the landing, vaulting into the stairwell on the other side of the chain-link fence. His feet scraped the concrete as he landed. Biff glanced behind him. but Marty had crouched down low, in the shadows. Biff went back to his magazine.

  Marty crept across the stairwell. The Almanac was in his reach. All he had to do was silently put out his hand and -

  The doorway opened, and Mr Strickland stepped out.

  'Well, well, Mr Tannen,’ Strickland remarked in that voice that always found you guilty until proven innocent, ‘how nice to see you here.’

  Biff looked around at the newcomer, whipping the magazine behind his back in a single fluid motion.

  ‘Why, Mr Strickland, sir,’ Biff-the-soul-of-inno-cence replied. ‘Nice to see you here, sir.’

  Strickland stuck his bald head right up against Biff’s surprised face.

  ‘Is that liquor I smell, Tannen?’

  Biff shook his head, still as wide eyed as before.

  ‘I wouldn’t know, sir,’ he answered, slowly and patiently. ‘I don’t know what liquor smells like because I’m too young to drink it.*

  Strickland stared at Biff with those trained vice-principal’s eyes, guaranteed to see into your soul.

  ‘I see. And what do we have -’

  Quick as a cobra, Strickland reached behind the teenager and snatched the magazine from behind Biff’s back.

  '- here?’ he finished triumphantly.

  Marty started when he saw the cover in the vice-principal’s hands. Somehow, Strickland had grabbed hold of the Grey’s Sports Almanac!

  ’Sports statistics,’ Strickland muttered as he glanced at the cover. ’Interesting subject.’ He opened the book and casually flipped through the pages. He raised a single eyebrow as he looked back at Biff.

  ‘Homework, Tannen?’

  Biff had obviously had enough of the vice-principal. He leered and shook his head.

  ‘No, it ain’t homework,’ he drawled, ‘ 'cause I ain’t at home.’

  Strickland gave Biff one of his disciplinary shoves.

  ‘You’ve got a real attitude problem. You know that Tannen?’ The vice-principal stuck the Sports Almanac in his pocket. ‘Just watch it, because one day I’m gonna have you right where I want you - in detention.’ He pointed an accusing finger in Biff’s direction.‘Slacker!’

  Strickland turned and marched away - and he still had the Almanac!

  ‘Butthead!’ Biff yelled after the retreating disciplinarian. He started to shake his fist, then decided to go back up to the dance instead.

  Strickland was crossing the lawn, toward the school door closest to the administrative offices. Marty guessed he’d better follow him, instead.

  But to tail Strickland, he had to walk right by the parking lot and the yellow Packard, with Lorraine and the other Marty both still sitting inside. Marty ducked down low as he scooted by, hoping neither of them would see him, then followed Strickland through the door to the administrative wing. He had to get that sports book before the vice-principal locked it away.

  Doc could see the Lyon Estates billboard up ahead at last! His legs were heavier than lead. He felt like he’d been pedalling this bicycle all da
y. Come to think of it he had been pedalling all day, hadn’t he? But wait a minute. There were a couple of vehicles parked up in front of the billboard. Had someone discovered the DeLorean? Doc forgot all about the pain as the fear took over.

  He pedalled twice as fast the rest of the way to the signs. As he got closer, he saw there was a pickup truck and a car parked near the sign. The side of the truck used to read TWIN PINES RANCH, except now the S in pines was x-ed out, as was the word TWIN, with LONE scrawled above it. Something must have happened to one of the rancher’s pine trees. Under the ranch name, in smaller letters, were the words: ‘Otis Peabody, Proprietor’. Oh, yes. Old Man Peabody, the pine tree breeder. Yes indeed, this might be trouble. Especially because the second vehicle here was a police car!

  Doc stopped his bike a few feet away.

  The farmer, a thin, hyperactive sort, was waving his arms and shouting. In one hand he held a shotgun, in the other some sort of magazine.

  ‘It was a flyin’ saucer, I tell ya!' Peabody yelled at the cop. ‘From Pluto! Just like this one!’ He shook the periodical, which Doc realised was a comic book, titled Tales from Space!

  The cop, a bit more heavy-set and a whole lot calmer than the farmer, looked sceptical.

  ‘I seen it come down here before dawn!’ Peabody insisted.

  Great Scott! Doc suddenly realised. Flying saucer? Before dawn? They must be talking about the DeLorean! But, apparently, that meant they hadn’t found it yet, even though it was sitting on the other side of this very billboard!

  ‘And I’m tellin* you there’s nothing out here, Mr Peabody,’ the cop answered patiently. ‘It must have been your imagination.’

  But Peabody shook his head stubbornly.

  ‘No, sir!’ he insisted. ‘It’s around here somewhere. It’s the same mutated son of a bitch that wrecked my barn last week and I’m stayin’ right here til I spot him!’ He waved his shotgun at the cop. ‘And then I’m gonna blast him!’

  Staying right here? Blast him? Not, Doc Brown thought, if he had anything to do with it. He dismounted and walked his bike forward, greeting both farmer and police officer with a friendly grin.

  ‘You mean the flying saucer?’ Doc asked helpfully. 'I saw it, too! It went way over there’- Doc pointed back the way he had come -‘a couple of miles!’ He waved back that way to indicate the immense distance. ‘Way - out - there!’

  Peabody grinned, happy to be in on the chase. ‘Thanks, mister!’ he called to Doc as he climbed into his truck. ‘C’mon, flatfoot, let’s go! ’

  The cop jumped into his cruiser, and both of them took off toward town.

  Doc waited until they were out of sight before he looked behind the billboard.

  Yes, the DeLorean was still there.

  But what could be keeping Marty?

  Chapter Eighteen

  Strictland had disappeared. The hall inside the school was deserted. But then Marty noticed there was a light on behind one of the office doors.

  He crept to the door, and opeoed it a crack. The office beyond was broken into halves by a glass partition. The half closer to Marty was where Strickland’s secretary had her desk. Strickland had gone into the far end of the room, which was his office.

  Marty stepped into the outer office. silently closing the door to the hallway behind him. He could see Mr Strickland moving around behind the smoked glass. It looked like the vice-principal's back was to Marty.

  Marty quickly crossed the room, and tilted his head just enough so that he could see around the partition.

  Strickland threw the Almanac down on his desk, then sat down himself in his swivel chair. He opened a drawer and pulled out a whiskey bottle.

  A whiskey bottle? Mr Strickland drank? In the high school?

  Strickland took a drink straight from the bottle, then swivelled his chair around so that his back was to Marty.

  But how could Marty get his hands on the Almanac? He couldn’t very well just march in there and say, ‘Excuse me. Mr Strickland,' - could he?

  Then he saw that Strickland’s desk had an open space in the middle - the place where Strickland would stick his knees - that went all the way through. If Marty could get in there - and it was only a couple of feet away - without Strickland seeing him, maybe he could grab the sports book while the vice-principal’s back was still turned, and get out of here!

  It was worth a try. He crouched down and ran into the room, dropping down on the opposite side of the desk from Strickland. He crawled into the knee-hole, and saw that the disciplinarian had turned his head toward the door. Had the vice-principal heard Marty? But then Strickland shrugged and took another swig from the bottle. He looked back out of the window.

  Marty crawled through the space under the desk, until he was right by Strickland's swivel chair. He reached his hand up to feel the top of the desk. The Almanac had to be up there somewhere. There! His fingers brushed it. If he could just -

  Strickland’s chair creaked as he turned. His knee crushed Marty’s hand against the desk. Somehow, Marty managed to pull his hand free. Somehow, he also managed not to yell. The vice-principal turned back to the desk, sticking his knees right in Marty’s face!

  But then Strickland leaned back in his chair to stare out of the window one more time. Marty knew right where the book was now. It might be a little riskier with Strickland this much closer, but all Marty needed was one good grab. He leaned forward —

  And Strickland turned back to the desk. Marty pushed himself back as he heard the vice-principal stick the bottle back in the drawer and then push the drawer shut.

  Strickland stood. He looked like he was ready to leave. And, as he walked away, Marty saw the vice-principal’s hands were empty. He wasn’t taking the book with him. Maybe Marty could get hold of the Sports Almanac at last. The vice-principal took a step away, then looked back, and picked up the book!

  Oh, no! Marty didn’t want to start this all over again!

  Strickland walked to the door - and threw the book into the wastebasket at the corner of the desk!

  Marty started breathing again. At last! He waited for Strickland to leave the office, then scrambled from his hiding place to grab the book from the trash. Here it was, with its red and silver dust jacket: Grey's Sports Almanac.

  The book fell open as Marty grabbed it. His mouth fell open, too, when he saw the pages, full of photos of scantily clad women! Marty pulled off the dust cover. Underneath was Ooh-La-La!, one of Biffs girlie magazines!

  ‘Shit!’ Marty yelled. He couldn’t believe this!

  He pulled his walkie-talkie out of his pocket.

  ‘Doc!’ he said as he pressed the ‘talk’ button. ‘Trouble. I blew it.’ He quickly described what had happened to him.

  'Where's the book?’ Doc’s voice answered him.

  Marty hadn’t even thought about that. ‘Biff must still have it on him!’

  ‘Where’s Biff?’ Doc asked.

  ‘I don’t know!’ Marty exclaimed, his voice close to despair.

  He looked out the window of Strickland’s office. He could see out to the parking lot. There was George McFiy. hiking up his pants, getting ready to go over to the Packard. If only, Marty thought, everything they had to do had stayed as simple as that.

  ‘Don’t you have any idea where he is?’ Doc demanded.

  ‘No, Doc,* Marty replied grimly. ‘He could be anywhere by now. For all I know he could have hopped a Greyhound and left town! ’

  ‘Great Scott!’ Doc exclaimed. ‘This is serious shit!’

  ‘Tell me about it!’ Marty answered, ready to descend into misery.

  ‘Think, Marty, think!’ Doc insisted. ‘Where would Biff have gone?’

  Marty shook his head. ‘Doc, if I knew that, I’d go after him.’

  But Doc just wouldn’t let it go. ‘Marty, the entire future depends on your finding Biff and getting that book back!’

  ‘I know, Doc. I just don’t know where to -’

  Marty stopped. Somebody was yelling outside. It
was Lorraine.

  ‘Stop it, Biff!’ she screamed. ‘You’ll break his arm!’

  Lorraine? George? Biff?

  Biff was still out there! Even though Biff had gotten the Sports Almanac, and Marty had come back here to try to get it back, nothing had really changed about that night at the ‘Enchantment Under the Sea’ dance. Biff and George were still going to have their confrontation! And Marty could still get the book!

  ‘Of course!’ Marty shouted into the walkie-talkie. ‘I got one more chance! I’ll call you back!'

  ‘Roger, ten-four,' Doc replied with relief. ‘Message acknowledged. Standing by.’

  Marty ran to the office door, unlocked the deadbolt, and took off. He’d have to time this just right, but it could work. It had to!

  It was happening all over again. Except, Marty reminded himself, it was really happening for the first time. It was him that was repeating.

  He had stopped at the edge of the parking lot, half hidden by the other cars. There, in front of him, were the events that would lead to his mother and father marrying and having a family - Marty included!

  Biff and George were facing off.

  ‘Leave him alone!’ Lorraine cried. She tried to stop Biff, but the burly teenager knocked her down and out of the way. Biff laughed.

  And George got pissed! His fingers closed into a fist, his teeth clenched, and he let Biff have it, right in the kisser!

  Biff crumpled. He was out cold!

  ‘Way to go, George!’ Marty whispered to himself. But there was the other Marty, running onto the scene! The later version ducked behind the car.

  He knew what happened next, anyway. He should

  - he was there.

  "Talk about déjà vu ...’ Marty whispered.

  Now, George and Lorraine would walk off together, arm in arm, the beginning of a beautiful romance. A crowd would gather around the unconscious Biff. And Marty, the other, earlier Marty, would check that photo - the one where he and his brother and sister were all disappearing, because he had changed the past.