Timely Memories

A BTTF: PreTime Story

By Flaming Trails

Disclaimer: I don't own BTTF. If I did, I wouldn't be writing this disclaimer.

Notes: Written for the June 07 backtothefanfic challenge. The Harold Lloyd clock can be seen at the beginning of Part I during the opening pan over the clock collection, as can the owl clock. The ultra-tacky clock is my own design. Set in the Cool George/Lone Pine timeline.

Saturday, November 12th, 1983

Hill Valley

4:25 P.M.

The bell on the door tinkles happily as I open it, as if it recognizes an old friend. Well, it should, really – I've been in this little shop more times than I can count. It's nice to have someplace to go that feels like it was built just for me.

Andy looks up from his newspaper as I pass the front counter. "Back again, eh Emmett?" he says with a smile.

"You know me, Andy," I grin back. "I'd buy out your entire inventory if I had the funds."

"Be a little unfair to everyone else. We've got some great new specimens in. I'm sure you'll find just what you're looking for."

"I always do." I head into the aisles to browse. I like Andy – he and I have become very friendly through our shared love of timepieces. We're not close close, like me and Marty or me and Holly, but we'll chat over my purchases and occasionally buy each other a coffee. It's certainly a step up from the way most shopkeepers treat me. I still remember how rude the owner of the old clothing store around here was. . . .

Well, never mind that now. I'm here on a mission – to find the perfect clock to commemorate this day. November 12th has held a lot of significance for me ever since I helped Marty – the 17-year-old Marty – get back to 1985. Great Scott, it's weird to think about that now that I've met and befriended the 15-year-old version. He acts mostly like the young man I grew to care about in 1955, but there's still some significant differences. He's not as mature, and he seems to have a quicker temper. Then again, I don't have much of a frame of reference, given I only knew the 17-year-old Marty for a week. At least he's finally sprung up to five feet four inches – it was strange, seeing him even shorter than that. The poor kid must think his growth spurt abandoned him. . . .

What the – well. There's the cheesiest of all cheesy clocks. Two lovers kissing while Cupids on the hands circle them, bows at the ready. With a lurid pink heart frame, no less. I'm tempted to buy it just to see how Marty would react. But no – I'd probably go into some sort of saccharine-induced coma if I looked at it for too long. Not to mention it doesn't fit the theme I want for today. But what does? Does this place have a clock shaped like our Clock Tower? Guess I won't know unless I keep looking.

Great Scott, how many football-themed clocks do you need? At least none of them are as tacky as that Valentine's clock. Though that Packers one comes close. . . . Oh, another addition to the animal series – an owl. Maybe I'll get that even if I don't –

What in the name of Sir Isaac H. Newton – is that me on the clock over there?! Great Scott, did my actions in 1955 cause some change to the future? It's bad enough Marty altered his own family history! Well, it does seem to be for the better, judging from what he told me before, but still. . . .

Wait, that's not me, that's Harold Lloyd. That's right, he ended up dangling from a clock in one of his movies, didn't he? What a relief. That said, judging by my reaction, I believe I've found the timepiece I'm looking for. And I'll get the owl too, just for fun. I grab my purchases and head for the register. "All set?" Andy asks, putting aside the paper.

"All set. Found just what I wanted."

"Great." He rings me up and punches in my frequent customer discount. "That'll be $20.85. I didn't know you were a Harold Lloyd fan."

"In a manner of speaking," I grin, handing over two twenties. If only you knew, Andy. . . .

Andy gives me my change and wraps up the clocks. "There you are. Have a nice day, Emmett. And tell that kid friend of yours I say 'hi.'"

"Sure thing. Have a good day yourself." I grab my bag and head outside to my car. I should have some spare batteries for these at home. I can't wait to show Marty my new purchases. He won't know the significance of the Harold Lloyd clock for a few years yet, of course, but it'll be interesting to see his reaction nonetheless.

I glance over at the Clock Tower with its broken ledge. Well, until he does know, I have my memories to keep my company. And now, a very nice clock. Though – I do wonder if I purchased it in the timeline where Marty never time traveled. . . .

The End