Chapter 7
Wednesday, Christmas, 1985
Hill Valley
7: 45 P. M.
Doc stepped away from the tree he had been decorating. "Hmm. . . . Not bad, considering my situation. A little sparse, but it adds a festive touch to the place."
He turned as he heard Marty come in from the bathroom. "Merry Christmas, Marty. What do you think?"
Marty looked the tree over. It wasn't exactly a great-looking one - Doc had found it in a brush pile from a tree-seller only yesterday. And the decorations were extremely simple. A single string of white lights, half burnt out, wound through the branches. A few old Styrofoam balls, painted festive colors, dangled on strings. The top was capped by an ancient-looking wooden angel with broken wings. Yet, because it wasn't Biff's tree, it looked fine. "Looks nice, Dr. Brown."
"You could call me Doc," Doc offered. "I wouldn't mind."
Marty shrugged. "I barely know you. You sleep all day."
"One of the disadvantages of being a vampire, I'm afraid," Doc sighed. "How are you?"
Marty just shrugged again. Yesterday had been confusing for him. Before he had gone to sleep, he had seen Dr. Brown drinking something he claimed was a stash of blood. And all the next day he had slept. Marty had used the time to scout out new places to live. But after a full 5 hours of searching, he had given up and decided to just stay with Doc. He did seem to be crazy, but at least he hadn't tried to hit him yet. In fact, his bribe to Doc for his freedom had turned into a bribe to not kick him out after a few days.
Doc clapped his hands. "How about some hot chocolate? I fixed the hot plate yesterday. And, of course, I have to give you your present. . . ."
"Present?" Marty blurted, eyes wide. "You - you actually got me something?"
"The best I could get, with my situation and on such short notice." He produced an odd-shaped package from under his bed. "Merry Christmas."
"Th-thanks," Marty stammered in disbelief. A Christmas present? He hadn't gotten one of those since he was 5! Curious, he carefully opened the paper.
The present turned out to be an old, beat-up skateboard. Marty couldn't help but be further stunned. How had Dr. Brown known skateboarding was something he'd always wanted to do? He looked at the scientist, waiting expectantly. "How'd you know?" he whispered, holding it tight against his chest.
"I have my ways," Doc smiled mysteriously. "I'm very glad you like it. Now, for that hot chocolate. . . ."
Marty quickly reached under the cot and pulled out his present bribe to Doc. Doc looked at it, surprised. "You have something for me?"
"Yeah. I figured that if I got you something, you'd let me stay," Marty admitted, handing over the gift-wrapped lump. Doc opened it to find a ratty leash and collar for a dog. "Is it okay?"
Doc smiled at him. "It's fine. Thank you. But you didn't need to bribe me, kid. I would never make you leave. Whether you move on or not is totally up to you." He whistled for Edison and slipped the collar around his neck. Edison scratched at it a moment, then gave up and left it alone. "Perfect. Let's get you that hot chocolate." He put a mug of mix onto a hot plate, along with a mug of duck's blood he had found for himself. He sat down next to the kid as he felt his skateboard. "No splinters, I hope."
"No, no splinters," Marty mumbled, feeling uncomfortable. "I still can't believe you'd get me a present after only knowing me for 2 days."
"Marty, it feels more like I've known you for 30 years. It must be hard to get close to people, I assume."
Marty just shrugged. Doc retrieved the drinks from the hot plate and handed the cocoa to Marty. The teen silently accepted his drink and began to sip. "This is too weird. Nobody treats a guy like this when they've only known him for 2 days. He's planning something, McFly. He's got something up his sleeve, and when the time's just right, he's gonna unleash it on you. Stay on your guard. Don't let him get close to you."
Doc barely kept from sighing as he heard these gloomy thoughts. "Patience, Emmett. He's only known you for 2 days as some stranger who doesn't hit him. You can't expect him to like you right away - or even to like you at all. Give it time." "How's the chocolate?"
"Good. I haven't had it in a while. Ever since-" his voice cracked, but he tried to ignore it "-since Dad died."
Doc sighed at the mention of George. "He really was a good guy, Marty. I never regretted becoming friends with him."
Marty looked at Doc. "What was my dad like? I never really got to know him. The best memory I have is sitting beside him while he worked on some sci-fi story."
Doc thought, summoning up memories he hadn't thought of in a while. "He's the kind of guy who was shy when he first met you, but opened right up once you became friends. He was a definite science-fiction nut. He loved anything to do with aliens and UFOs." Doc smiled as a certain memory popped into his head. "He claimed he had been visited by an alien when he was 17, and the alien helped him get together with his wife."
Marty laughed. "I remember that! Dad and Mom loved to talk about how they got together. Dad got visited by an alien, Mom fell in love with a new kid named 'Calvin "Marty" Klein", Dad rescued Mom from Biff. . . ." He sobered up. "Too bad Mom couldn't return the favor. She was crying all day when he died. And then, when Biff came along. . . ." Marty's face darkened. "Why the hell did she marry him? He tried to rape her in high school! That's why Dad slugged him! And then, to let him treat us like that. . . . You know what he did to us, Dr. Brown?"
"I have an idea," Doc admitted, his eyes starting to glow.
"No you don't," Marty said, empathetically shaking his head. "Nobody does. He beat us all up. Dave ran away at 14. I haven't seen him since. I think he's some bum on the streets. Linda used to be like me, go to all these fancy boarding schools so he wouldn't have to put up with us. She bolted at 16. I saw her once, she's a hooker and completely strung out on crack." He felt tears burn behind his eyes, but he blinked them back. "I'm the only one who stuck it out for this long. I went to all the boarding schools, did my best, let him abuse me. Not a day didn't go by when he told me I was worthless and not worthy of breathing his air. He liked to smash me up for the slightest thing. Sometimes he'd actually invent reasons. His gang buddies got in on the act too. They'd hold me when he beat me, or invent their own tortures for me."
"Like what?" Doc asked, not sure he wanted to know.
Marty pulled off his shirt and showed Doc his back. It was criss-crossed with scars. "One of them - 3-D, I think - borrowed a whip off one of those sado-macho girls. They took turns with it. In front of a whole lobby of people. And nobody helped me. A few even - even cheered them on." He shook his head. "I don't know why I'm telling you all this shit. You've got it in for me too! Don't-"
Marty stopped when he saw Doc's eyes fully aglow. Frightened he had somehow angered the vampire, he backed away. "No. Please. Not today."
Doc looked at him. "You misjudge me," he whispered, his fangs slightly protruding. "I'm not mad at you at all. I'm mad at those bastards who hurt you like that. And those who watched." He looked at the still purple bruises on Marty's face. "And that was from Biff?"
Marty shook his head. "My Mom. She told me she wished I would die. She hates me." Before he could stop himself, he had begun to cry. "My own mom hates me. The one person I could count on. Damn it, all I wanted was a family. . . ."
Doc tentatively opened his arms. He was expecting a full rejection, of course. Now he could see why Marty hated to be touched.
To his surprise, Marty flung himself into them, sobbing hysterically. Momentarily shocked, Doc quickly started soothing him. "Shh, shh. Relax Marty. It's all right. You're free now. I'll take care of you. I'll be your family. And if anyone tries to hurt you or take you away from me, they're going to get a nasty surprise."
Marty slowly relaxed, his sobs quieting. Being held in Doc's arms like this was very comforting. He leaned into him, feeling safe. "Let me stay," he mumbled. "Don't make me go back. Ever. Let me stay with you."
"Of course, of course. We're family now." He very gently stroked Marty's back, carefully running his fingers over the old scars. Marty sighed and relaxed further. "Come on, let's finish our drinks."
"I want to stay here," Marty mumbled, squeezing tighter.
"That's fine too," Doc smiled, tenderly rocking him. "I'll hold you as long as you like. I promise, no one will ever hurt you again."
"Thank you - Doc." He let himself start to fall asleep. His abrupt emotional outburst had exhausted him. "Merry Christmas, I guess."
"Merry Christmas to you too."
Friday, December 27th, 1985
Hill Valley
2: 00 P. M.
"Come on, Match! We ain't got all day! The boss is waiting!"
"Guys, I'm tired! I want to sleep with the broads at Tanya's Playhouse!"
Marty snapped awake as he heard those voices. For a moment, he thought he was back at the Pleasure Paradise, Biff waiting to get him. Then his senses returned, and he remembered he was safely at home in Doc's place. He glanced over at the vampire, sound asleep in his bed. Then, cautiously, he got up and peeked out a boarded-up window.
Biff's gang was trudging toward the garage, arguing among themselves heatedly. As usual, they were all dressed in tacky suits reminiscent of their boss. "I don't see why we gotta do this," Match complained, taking off his cowboy hat briefly to curl the brim a little.
"Biff says we have to. Somebody told him that Brown bastard is still alive, and we gotta go looking for him. You know how he gets if he's nervous," 3-D snapped, his jeweled 3-D glasses not doing much for his sight. "He gets irritable. Business goes down. We don't get broads."
"Or mary-jane," Skinhead agreed, adjusting his gun and blackjack. "But I don't think we have to search every empty place on the block. Why don't we just skip to that old garage?"
3-D looked at the Burger King next door. "You know, maybe we can skip this place. Let's do a quick check around, though."
Frightened, Marty raced to Doc and shook him hard. "Doc! Doc, wake up!"
Doc's eyes opened. "Marty, stop that. You're giving me a headache."
"I'm sorry, Doc, but Biff's gang is heading our way! They're checking out all the houses and stuff on this block! Biff knows you're alive!"
Doc was on his feet in an instant. "Damn! Damn damn! We'd best get out of here for a few hours. Edison, here boy!"
Edison ran over to him, trailing his leash. Doc picked him up and nodded to Marty. "Get on my back."
"What?"
"I can't carry you both. You'll have to ride piggyback."
Marty supposed that made sense, but still. . . . "I can run really fast, Doc. Survival instinct. You don't need to carry me."
"Yes I do. We're flying out of here. Climb on."
Marty stared. For a moment, he considered refusing on the grounds Doc was nuts for thinking he was a vampire. Then he remembered the few times he had actually seen Doc's eyes change and fangs emerge. He climbed on and hung on tight. Doc carefully spread his wings through the gaps, exited the house through the back door, and took off.
They reached Oak Park Cemetery a few minutes later. Doc landed and gently shrugged Marty off. "Next time, could you put your arms around my shoulders, not my throat?" he said hoarsely.
"Sorry, Doc," Marty blushed. "But we were - flying. I've never flown quite like that before."
Doc smiled. "It's okay. I imagine it's hard to accept the fact that I'm a vampire, even after seeing it with your own eyes."
Marty shook his head. "A real vampire. The only vampire I ever heard about was Dracula." He looked at Doc, curious. "What's it like?"
"You'd have to be one to truly understand what it's like. All your senses are more alive, more alert. It's - it's like being blind and deaf, living in a completely sterilized room in a plastic bubble with a bad cold, being human after you're a vampire. You're stronger, faster, can fly, can hypnotize. It's basically the next step up in evolution, I'd say."
"What about the blood-drinking?"
"I only attack those who deserve it," Doc assured him as they walked along in the cemetery. "Gangs and people like that. It's not much, but I do what I can to help. In fact, I even saved your brother from a vicious beating one day, Marty. He was grateful, but I think a little nervous too."
Marty had a sudden realization. "You're the Dark Angel! I heard about you the day after I met you from some bum - think his name was Red. You're a real celebrity to them. They love you."
Doc smiled. "Well, there you are. It's nice to be appreciated."
"How'd you become a vampire in the first place?"
Doc stiffened. Marty, worried he had upset him somehow, rushed to apologize. "Sorry, we barely know each other. I shouldn't be asking stuff like that."
"No, it's fine," Doc sighed, sitting down on a heavily graffitied bench. Marty followed suit. "It's simply that - that it's a bit of an open wound still. I met her in the mental hospital. . . ."
Doc went on to describe all his experiences with Josephine, how they had fallen in love shortly after meeting, her master plan to get them out of there, and what had happened to separate them. A few tears ran down his cheeks as he remembered finding out she had been cremated. "She was the best thing that ever happened to me, and I lost her."
Marty sighed, then reached out and gave Doc a quick pat on the back. "We've got a lot in common, huh?"
"I suppose so." Doc pulled Marty into a hug. Marty stiffened automatically, then relaxed into his arms. "At least we have each other now." He stroked Marty's hair gently, smiling. He was perversely glad that Biff's gang was ransacking his house. He felt so close to Marty now, just like at Christmas. "I'm so glad we got to meet. At least I have someone that I care about now." He dipped his head near Marty's neck, inhaling his unusual scent with a chuckle.
Marty heard the laugh and looked up. "What's funny?"
"Just the way you smell. Each person on Earth has their own unique smell, I'm sure of it. I can smell the blood, of course, but everyone has a distinct 'perfume' to them. It's fascinating."
"But what's so funny about how I smell?"
"You smell exactly like a fast-food restaurant."
Marty gently hit him. "Get outa town, I do not!"
"Yes you do! A complete meal of burgers and fries and even an ice-cold drink. You smell good enough - to eat."
Marty noticed Doc turning away as he finished his sentence. "Doc, you okay?" he asked, concerned.
"I'm fine, just - hungry." Doc sniffed the air, hoping that there would be a gang around or something. "It's a feeding day for me, and since I'm awake. . . ."
Marty nervously rubbed his neck. Even though he liked Doc, he wasn't ready for that kind of contact. They had only known each other for a few days, after all. "Sorry. There's gotta be somebody around here you can have for a snack."
Doc sniffed again, then smiled. "Ah, the morgue. The blood vat is filling up. I can get a free drink there. Wait here for me."
"Okay." Doc flew off to get his meal. Marty amused himself by playing with Edison for a little bit. Then he walked away a few paces, wondering if he should disobey Doc and go to his father's grave. He hadn't been there in a while, and with that monologue he'd delivered two days earlier, he wanted to go see him. He wandered around the bench for a moment, then decided to stay put. He had seen Doc mad, and he didn't want any anger directed at him - ever.
Doc returned in short order, looking much better. "All better. Ready to see if they've left yet?"
Marty shook his head. "I want to visit my Dad's grave first."
Doc's smile changed into soberness. "All right." They walked together to the lonely hill where George was buried. Marty knelt before his tombstone and read the few lines that condensed his father's life:
In Loving Memory
George Douglas McFly
Born: April 1st, 1938
Died: March 15th, 1973
Marty shook his head sadly. "I'm really sorry I didn't get to know you, Dad. Doc tells me you were a really great guy. Seems like the name McFly is a harbinger of bad luck, huh? At least the boarding school education is paying off."
Doc couldn't help but grin at Marty's impromptu quip. "He's got some company, you know," he said, indicating a smaller lump beside the grave. "I buried Einstein and his family here. I felt it was an appropriate place - friends next to friends."
"Definitely. Mom once told me Dad liked dogs, so I bet they're all together in heaven." Marty remained kneeling at the grave for a moment, then got up. Doc gave him a pat. "Ready to go home, kid?"
"Yeah." Marty climbed on Doc's back, and off they flew.
