Back To The Future

“You’re late!” Doc Brown scolded. “Do you have no concept of time?”

“Sorry, Doc.”

“And why were you driving my car like a maniac?”

“It was a test. I wanted to see how fast I could go on that stretch. And I’m glad I did. There’s a rise in the road down near Cherry Street that’s almost like a speed bump. If I’d hit that at a higher speed, it could have sent me into a store window. But if I use the left side of the road it’ll be O.K.”

“Hmmph,” Doc Brown replied. “That’s all very well, but what if you’d been spotted by some cop?”

“What if I’m spotted by a cop when I’m in the time machine?” Marty countered.

“If that happens, you keep going, dummy. You’ll either end up in 1985 or in the lobby of that movie theater.”

“Yeah,” Marty gulped. “I see your point.”

Grumbling to himself, Doc Brown began to pull the tarpaulin from the DeLorean and raise the trolley hook on back to its full height.

“Rush, rush, rush,” he muttered. “You couldn’t have cut it much closer.”

“Look, I’m sorry,” Marty replied, feeling guilty now because he spent so much time jamming with the Starlighters. “I had to change my clothes and getting Mom and Dad together took longer than I thought.”

Most of the anger was starting to leave Doc Brown now that he’d had the opportunity to whine and complain a little. Brightening, he said: “Well, I can understand that, knowing George McFly. So the plan worked?”

“To a T,” Marty smiled. “They’re all lovey-dovey and will stay that way to the bitter end. And here’s proof that it’s true.”

Pulling out his wallet, he showed Doc Brown the family picture with all members restored.

“Good,” Doc said.

“I think Dad may even go to college,” Marty added. “He’s got extra confidence now.”

Doc Brown frowned as he made the last of his preflight checks on the DeLorean. “Then that’s something else you’ll be able to worry about between now and the time you get back to 1985,” he said.

“What?”

“Well, if he does go to college, thanks to you, it’ll change his life.”

“For the better, I hope,” Marty countered.

“Maybe, but suppose while he’s there, he meets some coed who’s more attractive to him than your mother? That could cause you to do a quick fade out. Or suppose because of college expenses, your mom and dad decide to hold off having kids for a couple years? If that happens, you may find that you’re twelve or fourteen years old in 1985 instead of seventeen? How do you like them apples?”

Marty shook his head with awe. What his friend and mentor said definitely made sense. All he could do was hope the future existence of his parents was approximately the same as the first time around.

“Good thinking, Doc,” he said. “But I guess it’s too late to worry about that. I’m just glad Dad finally came through. He really laid out Biff Tannen with one punch…just plain cold-cocked him…I never knew he had it in him. Hell, my old man’s never stood up to Biff in his life. And to think I actually saw it when it happened.”

“Fine,” Doc Brown nodded. “Now get in there and set your destination time. We’re rushed as hell.”

Marty leaped into the DeLorean and watched as Doc punched the keypads so that both LAST TIME DEPARTED and DESTINATION TIME read 10-26-1985, 1:31 A.M.

“There,” he said. “If it works, it’ll be the same as if you never left.”

“Thanks, Doc…” Marty began. “I’d really like to thank you—”

Brown held up his hand. “No time,” he said. “Listen. I’ve painted a white line way down the street there. That’s where you start from. I did some calculations so that your run will be as short and efficient as possible. If you floor it from that point and never lift your foot, you’ll hit exactly eighty-eight miles an hour when you have to.”

“Great.”

“Now I’ve calculated the precise distance, taking into account the acceleration speed and wind resistance retroactive from the moment the lightning will strike…” He handed Marty a wind-up alarm clock which seemed quaintly old-fashioned compared to the digital readouts and flashing dials of the DeLorean’s dash. “When the alarm goes off, hit the gas from the white line. That’s all you have to do, except guide this baby to the right spot.”