The lake sparkled as the sun set beyond the distant hills.

Marty had parked his truck as close to the grassy area, at the forefront of the water, as he could.

He and Jennifer lied in the back comfortably, on sleeping bags.

Jennifer pointed skyward, "The first star! I just saw it!"

Marty squinted to better see the sparkly dot. Marty returned Jen's smile.
"Make a wish," she directed him.

Marty thought about it, as if such requests could come true, "I wish . . . I wish the rest of the year will be a restful one."

Marty deserved his wish. After all, after returning from 1885 a month ago, he had tangled with the Lake Greezer and gone back to 19th century London.

Marty watched that little twinkler and prayed his wish would come true.

Suddenly Jennifer sat up; Marty followed her gaze to a young boy who ran towards the truck.

"Hey, hey, you've got to help me!" cried the young lad.

"What's wrong?" Jennifer asked, very worried.

"I found a dead body!" he exclaimed.

Marty and Jen shared a shocked look, then settled the boy down and followed him back to where his gruesome discover was claimed to have been made.
The three walked down along side the lake, Jen held the boy's hand, Marty lead the way with a flash light. The sun was still providing light, but Marty wasn't going to take any chances.

As they veered away from the lake, up into brush land, Marty had a mean glare at the star he had made his wish of peace to.

After a 10 minute hike, they came to a small ditch. They stopped; it was clear they had arrived as the boy pointed down and simply said, "Down there."

"Stay with him, Jen." Marty left the two and stumbled down the dusty trail to the bottom of the gully. He noticed the kid's spade and bucket in the dirt, and just beyond them he saw it.
A white sphere, which he blinked a couple of times to make sure it was a skull looking back at him. A human skull.
Marty then encountered the gravity of the situation. A little kid had dug up a skeleton.

Marty looked back up at Jennifer and the boy. The boy no longer looked down, but was hugging Jen.

"He's dead," Marty said before realizing the obviousness of his words.

Marty was still a bit shaken up when he returned home later that night.
It was not the eerie discovery that had shaken him up. It wasn't the fact that an innocent child was probably scarred for his life, and it was not because he and Jennifer had yet to lie out underneath more then one star.

Marty was shaken up because the police had identified the body.

It was not so much a big deal that Marty knew Goldie Wilson, but it was a big deal that he knew he wasn't supposed to be dead.

Jennifer had confirmed his fear when she had admitted that she had no idea who Goldie Wilson was. And why should she? Goldie Wilson had disappeared on a foggy night back in 1956.

Marty could come to only one conclusion. He or the Doc had altered history to an extent that Goldie Wilson would not become Mayor but become a skeleton in a ditch.

Not intentionally of course, but somehow they had. Somehow he had. Doc hadn't gone anywhere near Lou's Cafe where Goldie worked, but Marty had. Marty had in fact told the poor waiter that he was going to be Mayor in the future. Could that declaration have doomed Goldie to never fulfill that role?

No. Marty then remembered something vital for his innocence argument.
He had gone to the year 2015 after he encountered Goldie. And he had seen an advertisement with Goldie Wilson's grandson. Goldie Wilson the 3rd had inadvertently told Marty that his grandfather had been the Mayor of Hill Valley.

Marty sighed with relief. He had not altered Goldie's future during his first trip back in 1955.
However, Marty's sigh of relief quickly evaporated into a sigh of realization. He realized he and the Doc had not only returned to 1955, but had gone back even further to 1885.

Could an action they had carried out all those years ago carry along through history like a pebble ripple in a pond? Could that careless ripple have claimed Goldie Wilson's life?

Marty's mind raced with the possibilities, he couldn't slow it down.

Could renaming the ravine Eastwood cause Goldie to fall in a ditch and die?

No. Because he didn't just fall into a ditch and die. He was put there. He was murdered.
This took some of the blame off Doc and himself, Marty thought. A killer had buried Goldie out there by the lake. But who? And how could the two time traveller's be accidentally responsible for a murderer who didn't kill in the original timeline, but murdered in the new and improved one?

Marty was content with his night's ponder, so he made the slide down from a sitting position on his bed, to a lying down one. He couldn't remember when he started leaving his lamp light on, but tonight, he was glad it was.