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.