Just a quick note to remind everyone that I do not own any of the BTTF characters; they are the products of the imagination of others.

LONG LOST JOHN

BY CHEERS BARFLY

CHAPTER I

ALISTAIR FARRADAY

Friday November 8th 1985

14:51 pm.

Nine minutes to go until the bell rang for the end of school, and Hill Valley High would be empty for another weekend.

17-year-old Marty McFly couldn't wait. Most people, by the time they have reached the age of seventeen, are becoming bored with the rigid regime of school life, but this wasn't the reason Marty was keen for school to finish today.

Thirteen days had passed since Marty's adventures with his friend 'Doc' – Dr. Emmett Brown, Hill Valley's very own crackpot scientist, and general joke of the town. However, Doc Brown had not been seen in Hill Valley since Sunday October 27th 1985, and then he had only appeared to Marty and his girlfriend Jennifer, to show them the spending new time train he had built, before promptly disappearing with his wife Clara and their sons Jules and Verne.

In light of all that had happened to him, it was little wonder that Marty had had difficulty concentrating in school for the past couple of weeks. All he could think of was his adventures time travelling with Doc and Einstein, and he found himself constantly wondering where Doc was now. He assumed that Doc must have taken Clara, Jules and Verne back to the 1800s. While he could certainly see the wisdom in this – it was, after all, where they had grown up – Marty couldn't help wishing that they had chosen to stay in 1985 instead. Doc had been Marty's best friend for four years, and Marty missed him terribly. Every time he thought of Doc, a heavy sadness clouded his soul, and a strange emptiness swept over him. When this happened, he had to keep telling himself that Doc, loyal friend that he was, would almost certainly come to visit him when he could…but even that didn't feel adequate.

14:54 p.m. Six minutes to go.

Alistair Farraday, the young substitute teacher for Marty's science class, was anxious for the day to be over as well. At twenty-four years old, he was only six or seven years older than the pupils in this class, and he had had an exceptionally bad day. He was sick and tired of the girls in his classes acting in a flirtatious manner towards him, but the troublemakers were the worst. Realising that he was young, inexperienced, and unlikely to know how to deal with them, they had been merciless, particularly nasty, sly-looking boy, Douglas Needles.

Of course, Alistair could have sent them to Mr. Gerald Strickland, the school discipliner, who, at sixty-two, didn't seem about to retire in a hurry, but he had been reluctant to do so, because it would have been showing Mr. Strickland that he didn't know how to deal with troublemakers, and he wanted Mr. Strickland to think well of him. Alistair wanted to be promoted from just a substitute teacher who was called in from time to time whenever a teacher was away, to being a full-time teacher at this school, and if Strickland thought he was failing at his job, the promotion wouldn't come any time soon.

14:56...

Alistair cleared his throat. "Um, you can start to pack away now," he said, ignoring the fact that many of the students had already done so.

Marty started to shove his books into his bag, then stopped when Alistair said, "Oh…wait…I'm sorry, everyone…I forgot to give you the homework."

There were groans from the class and a sardonic cry of, "Homework? Like anyone's going to do it", from Douglas Needles. Alistair flushed, but read out the assignment from the piece of paper. "Um…students are to write a report explaining why time travel is not possible. To be handed in on Wednesday November 13th."

Marty's ears pricked up. Write a report explaining why time travel wasn't possible? When he had just seen ample proof that it was possible?

"Excuse me, Mr. Farraday, sir," he said, "suppose time travel is possible?"

Alistair Farraday stared at the good-looking young man who had just asked the question. He recognised the young man as Marty McFly, who had been in two other classes that he had covered that week. Alistair had decided that he liked Marty McFly, mainly because the boy hadn't given him any problems, although he had seemed rather distracted during lessons. He decided to treat Marty's question as a serious query, rather than as a silly joke.

"Well now…" he began uncertainly. "Um…"

"The Big M's a nutcase!" roared Needles gleefully, grinning around at his friends, who laughed gleefully along with him. "Everybody knows time travel is impossible."

Alistair felt a strong surge of dislike for Needles. "Well, in that case," he replied quickly, "you should be able to produce an outstanding report, shouldn't you, Douglas?"

Needles scowled. "I ain't taking no homework assignment from a sub," he muttered.

Alistair stared at him. "You have to," he spluttered. He waved the sheet of paper about. "It says so right here."

Needles stood up. "All right then, Mr. Farraday. Make me."

Alistair met the young man's scornful gaze and backed down. Turning back to Marty, he asked, "Now, you had a query…?"

"About time travel, sir. I was just giving the view that it might actually be possible."

"Yes, well, that's a very good point, Marty, and one that's been explored in numerous science fiction novels and movies, and maybe it will be possible someday in the future…"

"But suppose it was possible now?"

"Oh, well, I don't think that's likely." Alistair smiled. "If that were so, surely we'd be hearing about it all over the news?"

"I told you, sir, McFly's wacko," Needles crowed. "It comes of spending so much time with that creepy old loon Dr. Brown. That guy should be put away."

Marty's face reddened. He balled his hands into fists. He always became infuriated when people insulted Doc, and even more so now that he realised he would not be seeing his friend as much as he was used to.

Alistair blinked. Having been in Hill Valley for only two months, he was not acquainted with Dr. Brown. He'd heard some stories, of course. He'd heard people talking about him. They tended to speak in hushed tones, and looked carefully over their shoulders, as though afraid that this man was listening. Mainly, it was the same old story – Dr. Brown was insane, Dr. Brown was dangerous. There was a rumour that he had murdered his parents, and there were stories of people who had entered his house, only to turn up dead a day later. Alistair had not been sure what to think of these stories, and wasn't sure now.

"Now, now, Douglas," he started to say, "I'm sure you wouldn't like it if Marty criticised your choice of friends."

Needles looked as though he was going to say something very rude, but the bell rang at that moment, and students rushed to the door, Needles leading the pack. Marty hung back.

"That was a good lesson today, sir," he told his teacher. "I really enjoyed it."

Alistair smiled sadly. "You and I both know it was a complete shambles," he sighed, "but thanks for trying to cheer me up."

"I'm serious," Marty told him. "You're good. I hope you get taken on full time here. Don't let clowns like Needles wind you up."

"But that's exactly what I do," Alistair groaned softly. "I let Douglas get to me. He knows I don't know how to deal with him, knows I don't want to send him to Mr. Strickland, so he behaves even more badly than he usually would do." He sighed again. "Maybe I just don't have the teaching skills in my blood."

"Get out of town! Of course you do." Marty was only half sure of this himself, but it couldn't hurt to bolster the young man's confidence. Everyone enjoyed having Alistair Farraday as a substitute teacher, because he was a soft touch, and people who wanted to mess around and do no work could do just that. "Look, Mr. Farraday, just go home, rest up this weekend, and come into school next week feeling fresh, and you'll be able to tackle anything that comes your way."

With that, he hurried off, his last words reverberating in Alistair's ears. The boy had a point. It had been a long week. If he got some rest and spent the weekend doing relaxing things such as reading and watching television, then he would come in next week feeling vibrant. He decided to take the young man's advice.

On the way outside, he bumped into Mr. Strickland. This was through no choice of his own; Strickland had seen and hailed him, and Alistair had no choice but to trudge over to his boss. Truth be told, he did not much like Gerald Strickland. Although a degree of discipline was necessary, Alistair thought that Strickland took it too far. He seemed to call every student in the school a slacker, even those that worked exceptionally hard and received top grades. He had even been known to give that name to teachers whom he thought to be underperforming.

"Ah, Alistair." Strickland smiled in a way that, to him, might have seemed friendly, but it didn't to Alistair, or, indeed, most people he smiled at. "How was teaching today?"

Alistair hesitated. "Oh…the same as usual…"

"Did the slackers get on your nerves?"

"A little…"

Strickland shook his head. "You're not firm enough with them," he chided the young man, "not nearly firm enough! You don't want to be a slacker like those delinquents, do you?"

Alistair shook his head.

"And you wouldn't like to lose your position at Hill Valley High, which, I might add, is low enough as it is?"

Alistair wanted to point out that it was grammatically incorrect to being a sentence with "and", but thought better of it.

"No, sir."

"Then get a grip on yourself, man! Use some discipline!"

Gerald Strickland strode away, leaving Alistair with his ears ringing and his face flushed with the humiliation of being told off. Yes, it had been an awful week, ended with a ticking off from his boss. He could only hope that next week would be more successful…