Chapter 6

Wednesday, October 21st

8: 58 P. M.

After a short stop at a phone book to check the address with an operator, Doc arrived at the library. It had been cleaned up and now had a digital sign, but otherwise it didn't look too different. He went inside and asked the librarian for back copies of the Hill Valley Telegraph. Since George was a famous figure in Hill Valley, Doc had logically reasoned his son would get references in the local paper.

The librarian looked at him strangely as he phrased his request. "Our paper stuff is all kept locked up in the back. You've got to have special permission to get to it. All their back issues are on their web site, ya know?"

Web site? What on earth is a web site? "Well, can you direct me to their site?"

"Sure, grab a computer and knock yourself out." She went back to filing her nails. Doc looked at her helplessly, but she didn't offer him any more information. He located and sat down at a computer station, hoping he could figure out what he was supposed to do. All he could find of the computer, however, was a flat monitor -- no keyboard or mouse. He wondered briefly how he was supposed to operate it. Well, most of the things in Marty's house responded to voice commands. Maybe this is the same thing. "Computer on," he said as a test. It promptly turned itself on. "Access the Hill Valley Telegraph web site, whatever that is."

The computer opened up a window on his screen, with a thick blue bar on top and what looked like a newspaper page, with interactive pictures and text. The blue bar contained the words, "Hill Valley Telegraph -- Microsoft Internet Explorer." The Internet? I remember reading about that in 1985. I thought only the military and the National Science Foundation was interested in it. Apparently it becomes very popular with the general public sometime in the future. This "web site" must be a method of spreading information. He glanced over it a moment, getting himself used to dealing with the site, then searched the name "Marty McFly." A list of articles came up containing his name. Doc skimmed through them. There was a list of people born in the 60s in which Marty was listed, a few George-themed articles that had mentioned the youngest McFly, and a letter to the editor he had once written. Doc opened it to find that it was a complaint about the food at the Burger King. Didn't stop you from eating there, Marty, he thought with a slight smile.

Finally he found the article he had been searching for. "Author's Son Involved in Traffic Accident," Doc read aloud, noting the date was October 28th, 1985. He opened it up and read it. The gist of the article was that Marty had hit a Rolls Royce exiting Hilldale the previous day. He and Jennifer were in the hospital with minor injuries. The other driver, Patricia Halls, although uninjured, told police she fully intended to press charges and was also suing Marty for damages and reckless endangerment. Marty had owned up to the fact he had been racing another car, but insisted that the Rolls was partially at fault.

Doc shook his head sadly as he finished. Marty, you foolish boy. It takes a traffic accident and a broken hand to alert you to your problem. I'm very tempted to have a talk with you when I get back. But dare I meddle in your fate? I don't want to make things worse.

He closed the article and continued his skimming. There were a few small follow-up articles about the ruling and Marty's punishment, things like that. Then another article caught his eye. "Mugging Leads To. . . ." Doc murmured. Not only was Marty's name next to it, so was his. Curious, he opened it up.

Mugging Leads To Inventor's Death

July 10th, 1988

Last night, local inventor Dr. Emmett L. Brown died in Hill Valley Hospital from knife wounds. Dr. Brown was rushed to the hospital after an encounter with a mugger turned bad. He told doctors that when the mugger had told him to surrender his wallet, he had refused. The mugger then proceeded to stab him multiple times. Doc stared at the type. What the -- Why would I refuse a mugger my wallet? I care about my life far more than my money. He continued reading, looking for Marty's involvement. Maybe he could shed some light on the situation.

Martin McFly was contacted by this reporter for comments. "I feel horrible," he said. "This is all my fault. We had this huge fight right before it happened. He yelled at me that he hated me and wished we had never become friends. I yelled back that I wished I never had to see him again. Well, I guess I won't now."Doc closed his eyes and leaned back against the chair. Okay, none of this is making sense. What would we fight about so severely that I would say I hated him? And how does this relate to the mugging? Now I feel like the worst person on earth. I have to find out more somehow.

Doctors at Hill Valley Hospital were also contacted. "Dr. Brown was only conscious for a brief period. He told us that he refused the mugger because he was angry. Beyond that, we have no comment on the murder."

He looked for more, but couldn't find anything else about his death. Apparently no one had cared enough to follow up on it. Frustrated, he closed out the program and stood up. "Damn," he muttered to himself, thinking hard about all he had learned. I feel like I have to warn Marty, to make sure that car accident never occurs and that I don't accidentally do myself in. But I don't want to possibly change the future into an even worse one for my best friend and me. But Marty McFly saved my life, and was willing to put the space-time continuum at risk to do it. Why shouldn't I return the favor? Come on, Emmett, make up your mind!

Deep in thought, he exited the library, only to bump into a young woman coming in. "Oh, I'm sorry," he said, smiling apologetically. "I didn't see you there -- Officer Reese! This is a surprise!"

Reese looked at Doc, her eyes wide. Her expression made Doc a little uneasy. "No way, it can't be," she muttered under her breath. "Dr. Emmett L. Brown?"

Uh-oh. She remembered him from this morning? This wasn't good. Damn it, think, think. . . .

Then the officer added in an even quieter voice, "Uncle Emmett?"

Doc stared. Uncle Emmett? Can it be? "Jaime?"

"Oh my God, Uncle Emmett, is it really you?" Jaime Reese whispered. "But you -- you–"

"Died?" Doc finished shakily. "Jaime, I'm -- I'm stunned. I haven't seen you in a long while. You're all grown up. And working on the police force as well."

"Uncle Emmett. I don't care how the hell you're here, I'm just glad you are!" She gave him a big hug. "I've missed you. I didn't get to know you that well, but I still missed you. How did you get here? Was that death everyone made such a fuss about a ruse or something? Christ, you weren't buried alive, were you??"

"The truth would be too fantastic for you to believe. Oh, Jaime. . . . How are you? How's your mother and Emily?"

"I'm okay, I guess. Still unmarried, but not worrying about it. My best friend's in the force too. She's my partner. Mom's on a vacation with Dad to the Bahamas. Grandma died a while ago, though." Jaime felt his face, still somewhat shell-shocked. "You're really alive. . . ."

Doc couldn't help but smile. He got to see his grandniece infrequently back in 1985. Both her parents worked and it was rare that they could get to Hill Valley. As for Doc, he had once been to Los Angeles and had sworn never to set foot there again after being mugged twice in one night after getting lost in Compton. "Jaime, I'm very glad to see you, even if you did pull me over this morning. I'm glad that you're happy."

"Could be better, but could be worse," Jaime shrugged. "I've got a job I really love, my best friend by my side, and a nice apartment in the better section of town. Can't complain."

"Lot better than what happened to me," Doc muttered. He looked at Jaime curiously. "Do you know Marty McFly? I introduced you to him once, but that was over 30 years ago."

Jaime nodded, looking sad. "Yeah, I sometimes talk to him. Every so often Marty Junior or Marlene will get caught on some really minor charge and he'll have to bail them out. If he doesn't have the cash though, they have to spend a week in jail."

"That seems rather harsh," Doc said, surprised.

"You know that we started getting tougher with the punishments to cut down on repeat offenders. Practically every state's got the death penalty now for mass murderers. Personally, I'm sorta glad there's no more lawyers in the courts."

Doc remembered Griff's "opportunity" from the Café 80s. Now he was extra glad he had prevented Marty Junior from going along with their scheme. He had no idea what Marty would have done if his son had been jailed the night he lost his job. "I imagine there's a much lower crime rate then."

"Very. But you didn't want to hear me talk shop," Jaime said, abruptly shifting the subject. "You wanted to hear about Marty." She sighed and looked into Doc's eyes. "He really misses you. Man, you two had to be the closest pair on the planet. That's what Grandma always told me at least. And then, there was that fight. What the hell was that about?"

"I -- don't remember. . . . Did Marty ever tell anyone about it?"

"Yeah, Grandma after she went to your funeral. She told me part of it, but it sounded really crazy. Something about him being mad because you wouldn't take him to a 'future doctor.' Did he hear about some new treatment for his hand and you refused to take him?"

Now everything became clearer. Marty must have become upset because he knew someone in the future could probably fix his broken hand. And he, with his characteristic caution about changing the time-line must have refused him. He still couldn't connect the event to his stabbing death, though. I don't understand why I can't put this together. "Not exactly. It was a risky procedure, and I didn't want to hurt him any more. The strange thing is, I have no memory of the night I was stabbed. Maybe I have amnesia."

Jaime was eager to offer information. "Marty said you'd been virused -- down," she corrected herself at Doc's strange look, "for a while. Maybe that fight was just the turning point. The doctors told Grandma that you were so annoyed about the fight with Marty that you weren't even thinking when you refused that guy. At least, that's what you managed to tell them."

Doc shook his head. "Don't tell me. I don't want to know." He looked at the ground for a moment, feeling strange. Damn my stubborn nature. Poor Marty. At least I can back up my insistence about not knowing anything about the future with personal experience.

Then a new resolve came into his eyes. "'To know and not do is not to know,'" he quoted from a source he currently couldn't remember. I may have acted like a total hypocrite, but at least I can put the knowledge to good use and prevent part of Marty's wrecked future. As for my being committed, I'll just have to watch my back. "Jaime, you have no idea the help you've been to me today. Thank you. It was wonderful to see you again." He gave her another hug and started to his car.

"Uncle Emmett?" Doc turned around. "Are you going to see Marty again? All this time we all thought you were dead--" A pained look came over her face. "Tell me how you did it," she begged. "Tell me how you made everyone think you were dead. Because otherwise I'm just going to think this was some wonderful illusion."

"Jaime, you would never believe me if I told you. Rest assured that you're not hallucinating, though. I promise you that." He hopped into his DeLorean. "And I promise you, I will see Marty again." Just not the version you know.