Marty pulled into the driveway of the Mcfly residence in the Delorean. He stopped, got out, opeeds the garage door, and pulled the Delorean in. He then closed the door behind him, flipping on the light. He stared at the Delorean.
“Okay, Doc, I'm coming. It's another promise to you I can't seem to keep.”
He reached in the trunk and pulled out the radiation suit and donned it. He went to the back of the garage, reached down and moved some old boxes. Buried there underneath is the plutonium case. He dragged it out gently and opened it.
Then he took a plutonium vial from the case and loaded it into the fusion chamber. When he finished he took the suit off and stood there looking at the Delorean.
“Something tells me if I do this, I could be destroying the galaxy, or universe, or something like that, but my universe is already destroyed.”
* * * * * * * * * *
The front door to the Mcfly residence opened and Marty wheeled George out toward the garage.
“I don't know what this is all about, but you're starting to scare me.” Said George as his son pushed him along hurriedly.
“I'll explain it all in a minute,” Marty said.
When they got to the open garage door, George saw the Delorean and he looked surprised.
“Not just any Delorean.” “Is it Doc's?”
“Uh huh.”
“How does it drive?” Asked George exciteldy. He looked wistfully at the car. “I never got to drive, that's one of my biggest regrets.”
Marty pushed George into the garage.
“Dad, listen, I don't have much time... well actually I have as much time as I want,” Marty corrected himself, “maybe I have too much time.”
George laughed, “you're starting to sound like Doc Brown now.”
“Listen, Dad,” Marty got in front of George, knelt down and grabbed his father by both arms, “what I'm about to tell you is going to sound crazy, but I swear it's all true.”
George truly looked nervous, but he waited, as Marty braced himself. “I'm a time traveler and that,” he points at the car, “is my time machine.”
George stared at his son with growing eyes. He stared at the Delorean, taking it in as if for the first time as well. The light of understanding was clearly dawning. He said not a word. Just stared from Marty, to the car, back and forth.
“I don't know what to say about that,” said George
“I know,” Marty said, “It sounds ridiculous, but I swear Dad!”
.“I don't know what to say about that,” repeated George, but then he added, “except, I know!”
Marty was taken aback. He stopped and stared at George the way George had been staring at him a few moments ago.
“You know?” Echoed Marty in amazement. “But how?”
George shook his head. “It all makes sense now. I never could put my finger on it before. I thought I was losing my mind but as you grew into a teenager you started to look familiar to me and I couldn't quite place it but then, one day I had a crazy thought, you looked just like that kid, that Calvin Klein kid I told you about that Biff was looking for.”
Marty stood back, still in shock, not quite understanding everything George was saying. “I know it was you Marty. I guess maybe I've always known, but I didn't know how.” “Who Dad?” Marty asks totally confused. “Who was me?”
“You know...” says George slyly, “Calvin Klein.” He laughs. “That kid... “ He pauses, “...YOU... were always a little strange and he, you, seemed to have this obsession about me and your mother. I can't forget his... YOU'RE face! I thought I was losing my mind but you look just like him, and he insisted on being called 'Marty, too!' George looked away, distant. “It explains so much.”
He looked back at his son. “Actually, it explains everything.”
Marty shook his head. “Dad, that doesn't make any sense, if I'm that guy, that Calvin guy, don't you think I'd remember?”
“I don't know how it works, son,” George said, wheeling over to him, “Maybe time travel messes with your head a little, screws up your memory, I have no idea, but I remember you in 1955, you were there!”
Marty looks away in complete helplessness. “If only Doc were here, he might be able to explain all this.”
George thought about this more. “I almost accused your mother once of staying in touch with that Calvin kid.” He chuckled nervously. “When you looked so much like him.”
“I thought maybe you were his kid.” “Dad!” Marty gasped.
“I know, I sure as hell am glad I didn't accuse her of that!”
“Dad,” Marty jumped in, “it doesn't matter anyway. I need to tell you the rest. You're not supposed to be like this.”
“Like what?”
“Like this!” Marty gestured at the wheel chair. “In my reality you play tennis, you are a golfer, hell, you almost went pro!”
George looked at him disbelieving.
Marty got an idea. He went to the Delorean and pulled out the JVC GR-C1U Movie Recorder he always borrowed from Doc Brown. “I can prove it to you,” he said, as he looked at the pop out electronic viewfinder display. He began rewinding to the dinner the night before. “I have it on film. You... the other you, the you not in a wheel chair.”
When he got to the spot on the recording where is the Mcfly family dinner he couldn't believe his eyes. The film was changed. The dinner appeared to have been going on exactly as it did before, except George is in a wheel chair, Lorraine is in a bath robe at the dinner table, looking depressed, Dave is in a UPS uniform, and the house looked the same as it did now. Marty was beside himself.
He snapped the viewfinder back, frustrated. “I HAD it on film” he said sadly, putting the camera down in the Delorean.
He started to pace. “I was only in 1955 for a few minutes,” he rambled on quickly. You couldn't have met me there. Still, somehow, despite all that, I changed things back there, in 1955. I don't know how it could happen. I went back there, came right straight home,
immediately, just like Doc told me to do if I ever got stuck in the time machine somewhere, or some when. After I got back, though, I found you like this. In my world you write short
stories, articles, NOVELS!”
George seem ed to be having trouble processing this.
“Dad, in my world you're a damned hero, everyone in Hill Valley loves you! And Biff, well Biff isn't a thug where I come from, he's a marshmallow!”
George shook his head. “That sounds too incredible to believe, son, you're not pulling my leg?” He smiled staring at his legs.
“That's not funny, Dad,” Marty said exasperated. “It's a little funny,” argued George.
“This is serious,” insisted Marty. “I don't know how the HELL everything got so messed up, but listen, I'm going back there, I swear to you, I'll find out and I'll fix it. I'll fix everything. I don't even know why I'm telling you this since, if I succeed in my plan I doubt you'll even be here, at least not like this.” Marty kept talking a mile a minute. “I guess I just needed
someone to talk to, and maybe I'm only telling you all of this in case I don't succeed. In case I fail and I never make it back. There's still TIME Dad, you can still write that first novel, you
can still make something of yourself. I know for a fact you got it in you!”
Still reeling from the part about if Marty succeeds George “won't be here,” George didn't look like he approved. “Now wait a minute kid, I'm no expert on time travel but I've read lots of science fiction on the subject. It seems to me you can't just go meddling around in the space time continuum. You can't just go jumping around in the past in a time machine like it's some kind of skateboard park. Changing the past to suit you.”
“I realize that Dad,” Marty said. He knelt again, putting his hand on his Dad's shoulder. “Don't you think I know that? Doc warned me about all of this before he died, but I have to fix this, I have to put this right. Somehow this is all my fault! He stopped, looking away distantly. But I have no clue how.”
George grabbed his hand. “I am sorry, son, but you don't know that. Not for sure.” “Okay,” Marty agreed, “but I'm pretty sure. It's the only thing that makes sense.
Something I did back in 1955 created this crazy upside down reality where Biff is Al Capone, you're in a wheel chair, and Jennifer doesn't even know me!”
“Jennifer,” enquired George.
“Ya,” said Marty, “Jennifer Parker. In my world she's my girlfriend.
“Ah, Jennifer PARKER,” George seems impressed You've always had a secret crush on her but you never had the balls to ask her out before!”
“See what I mean, Dad?” Marty is exasperated. “I don't know for sure what I did, but I have to fix this!”
George shook his head again, in objection. “So don't you think you should find that out before you go driving back into the past to poking around there blindly?”
Marty shook his head. “Yes, I probably should but I have no idea how to figure it out, I need Doc Brown, and I need him ALIVE.”
George realized then what Marty was planning and he liked it even less. “Ah, now hold on son, you're planning to go back and change what happened last night aren't you?”
“Well, technically it was this morning, but ya, I don't believe that Doc is supposed to be dead!”
“Marty!” George said warningly as if he saw Marty about to stick his hand in the cookie jar where it doesn't belong.
“Dad, somehow his death is connected to the same events that led to this, nightmare world where you're in a wheel chair and Biff is some sort of Mafioso running Hill Valley.”
“I can assure you, son, this is no nightmare world, it could be a lot worse!” George objected again.
Marty shook his head. “Anyway, Dad, I'm going to go back to 1955 and find Doc.
Together I bet we can figure out what changed everything. While I'm there I'll warn him about the Libyans, I can save him from being shot.”
George shook his had again. “I don't like this, Marty, it sounds like you are trying to play God, trying to control the universe with this time machine of yours.”
“Not control, Dad, I'm only trying to fix what I broke.”
“You say tomato.. it sounds like you could make things even worse.” “It's possible, but I can't just leave you here like this!”
George looked at Marty. “Son, I'm okay, things didn't turn out too bad, I still have your mother and you kids and this wheel chair, it's a minor inconvenience, but the ladies DIG it,” he smiled facetiously, “and I can still kick the crap out of you in a tennis match.”
Marty laughs. “Ya, I bet, with that unfair advantage of those wheels.” They laughed together.
“There's no way I can talk you out of this?” George asked.
Marty shook his head. “It's the only way. I won't let what Biff did to you stand, I'm going to fix it, and I'm going to fix that sonofabitch once and for all if I get a chance.”
George looked horrified. “Don't start taking things into your own hands, son, violence never solved anything!”
Marty patted him on the hand. “I'm not talking about violence,” he assured his father, “I'm just talking about a good ole fashioned butt whooping.”
George frowned.
Marty continued, “I'm just going to try and set things back the way they were, as much as I can remember about how you and mom TOLD me the way things were, anyway. If I succeed, you'll be back to normal and this conversation will never have happened. You won't
remember it.”
George eyed his son. “I can see you're growing up to be your own man. I can't help but be proud of you son! Even though, I'm quite certain that has to be a law against time
traveling and changing the past to suit yourself.”
“Doubt it dad,” said Marty, since technically time travel was just invented early this morning.”
“Well, maybe there should be a law against it,” George said. “But still, I am proud.” “Thanks Dad,” said Marty. He hugged George. “That means a lot, coming from you.” “Well it's true,” says George.
“Now push me back in, it's getting hot out here.” George ordered. Marty started pushing George back to the house.
“Oh, and Dad,” he said hesitantly, as he did , “I kind of forgot something. There's another me here in 1985.”
“Another you?” George echoed.
“Ya he's the one that got arrested. He might be the Marty you know, the Marty you raised and I'm sure he's wondering why you guys haven't rescued him from the FBI yet or at least haven't tried to contact him .”
George slammed on his brake. “So you're saying that you're not the Marty I raised and my real son is in jail? You tell me this now, after I hugged you and everything?”:
Marty looks at him then realizes he's messing with him. George grins slyly.
“Dad, it's not that simple but it is simple at the same time. I'm your son but I was raised by the other George Mcfly, the author!”
“Oh, ya, simple,” George said sarcastically.
Marty looked at him, and realized the man was just messing with him again. “Not funny... George.”
“Oh, so now it's George and not DAD. I KNEW IT.” George laughed. Marty released the brake and started pushing him again.
“So what happens to me if you do all this changing in the past? Do I disappear?” “No Dad!.. Well, I don't know!”
“Well that really sucks!”
“I know!” Said Marty as he backed George into the house. “I'm sorry. Maybe you don't disappear, maybe this is some sort of alternate reality and when I change things back to the way they are I return to my reality and this one just goes on as it is. Maybe the Marty here belongs here. I don't know. I hope Doc can clear things up.”
“Okay,” said George shaking his hand, “Good luck to you. I guess. And I hope I don't erase yourself or something once you leave here in that machine.”
“Me too,” agrees Marty, “I kinda like this George Mcfly.” They shared one last long look before Marty turned away and left.
George watched him from the screen door as he sprinted to the Delorean.
In the garage, Marty got inn, closed the wing door, pulled out and took off down the road, without looking back.
George still watched, half expecting to see the Delorean suddenly disappear into a cloud of smoke or something. He had no idea how that time machine worked.
“Bye Calvin.” George muttered as the Delorean drove away.
Then he turned around and shouted to Lorraine. “Call the lawyer, Marty's in jail again.” “What?” Lorraine yelled from somewhere in the house.
“Just like Uncle JOEY!” Dave's voice could be heard saying from another part of the house.
“Shut up, Dave!” Both George and Lorraine yelled in unison.
9. ANOTHER DRAG RACE
Marty pulled up to an intersection, in front of the Hilldale housing development. His intention was to get far out of town before he made the time jump. However, as he sat there looking at Hilldale, a truck pulled up to the left of him. Marty looked over and it was Needles and his gang driving a red, souped up Ford pickup. They motioned for him to roll down the window. He did.
“Nice WHEELS, Mcfly,” said Needles. Where'd you get them?” “It's borrowed,” replied Marty.
Needles looked back at the fusion generator modifications. “It looks like you've done some things to it!”
“Not me, someone else.” “Is it fast?”
“It's faster than the speed of light,” Marty doesn't lie.
Needles revved his engine. “Put your money where your mouth is Mcfly, let's see what she can do!”
“What are you, Mcfly, chicken?” Asks Needles.
Marty got mad. Really mad. No one calls him chicken. “Okay, but I get the outside.”
Marty threw the Delorean into reverse, burnned rubber, whipped back and then around the truck ending up on the left side of the truck. He wasn't even sure why he did it, he just
thought it would look cool.
Needles and his gang were hooting and jumping around and Needles revved his engine again. The truck obviously had some real power because it rocked left to right as Needles power breaked.
Marty revved the Delorean and it sounded, well, sad in comparison. They laughed harder. The light changes and they are off. Marty dropped down in low and surprisingly the car kept up rather well for a few feet but then the more powerful truck easily pulled away with them laughing hysterically. He continued to accelerate, knowing that they are in for a real shock when he hit 88 mph.
As they raced, Marty input the destination into the keypad. The display destination changed to November 14, 1955.
By now, the truck had blown way past Marty. As he looked up from inputting the
destination, his mouth dropped from a smile to a look of fear. A white Rolls Royce was pulling out from the next intersection, right into the path of Needles' truck. It was Biff Tannen's Rolls Royce.
Needles, unable to react in time, t-boned the Rolls Royce.
Marty didn't slow down, he kept accelerating and as he passed the accident he looked over to see that Biff appeared to have been driving this time and he was screaming angrily. Apparently unharmed. Everyone seemed to be okay, except Needles, who was slumped over the steering wheel, apparently, unconscious.
Both vehicles, however, were obviously totaled.
Marty blew past them and a few moments later he hit 88 mph. He was gone, his tires leaving the familiar flame trails. He knew he shouldn't have done the time jump in front of those idiots but who would believe them anyway? Besides, he was going to change all this and none of this will have happened... he hoped.
“I hope I succeed,” he said to himself as he time jumped, “I have to succeed.”