Part 2
Tuesday, October 22nd, 1985
Hill Valley
8: 01 A. M.
Marty McFly skateboarded up to Doc's garage, whistling. He expertly merged the whistled tune with a song as he knocked on the door. "Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you -- Hey, Doc!"
There was no answer from inside. Puzzled, Marty knocked again. "Yo, Doc! It's me, Marty! Open up!"
Still no answer. Marty frowned, wrinkling his brow. Okay, this is kinda weird. "Doc, you mad at me? Mom and Dad dragged me off to see Uncle Milton this weekend. I thought I called you." Getting a little frustrated, he pounded on the door. "C'mon, Doc, open up."
The house remained silent. Marty began to get a little spooked. He didn't think Doc would be out this early, and it was too late for him to be asleep. Deciding to check things out before he left for school, he felt for the key under the "Welcome" mat. Yup, still there. You gotta change your hiding place, Doc, he thought as he opened the door and walked in.
The place looked pretty normal at first sight. The breakfast maker had gone off, the TV and radio were on, and Einstein's bowl had food in it. "Doc? Einstein? Here boy, here Einy." He whistled, looking around. "Where is everybody?"
He walked the length of the garage. The dishes were once again stacked in the sink, undone. Doc's bed was unmade -- no surprises there. But then, Marty noticed that Doc's wardrobe was open. Doc rarely ever left the wardrobe open. Like Marty, he had a tendency to wear the same clothes two days in a row. Getting more confused by the moment, Marty checked the garage.
Both Doc's van and the DeLorean were gone.
Marty began to feel rather uneasy. Even though it was possible Doc was out, there was no way for both cars to be missing. Unless one of them had been stolen. . . .
Fright briefly overwhelmed the teen. Shit! Is Doc in danger?! Maybe he's been kidnaped! No, who would kidnap a 64-year-old guy? Is someone trying to hurt him? Is it about that DeLorean? Jesus Christ, I wish I knew more about this. . . .
Marty's watch alarm beeped, warning him he had to leave now if he wanted to make it to school on time. Marty ignored it, too involved in the drama he was creating in his mind. I gotta find out what happened to him, why he's gone. I gotta figure out if I can help him. He raced through the house, taking note of everything that was missing. Hmmm. . .doesn't look like he's gonna be gone long. But you never know with the Doc? Now, where could he have gone?
He went back out to the garage and stared at the spot where the cars were usually parked. Now that he thought about it, this had to be about Doc's DeLorean. Marty knew that Doc was performing some sort of top-secret experiment on it. It was definitely possible some unsavory person had gotten wind of the experiment and had wanted to take it over. Maybe Doc had fled to keep it safe.
But that means he could be anywhere, Marty thought. And that I might never see him again.
That depressed Marty more than words could say. He and Doc were very close -- almost like family. Marty had never felt like he had felt in with the rest of the McFlys. He had heard somewhere a caution against having three kids: "It'll end up that one's always left out." That was certainly true in his case. Lorraine, George, Dave, and Linda formed two pairs, no matter how you grouped them. He was forever the odd one out.
And until he had met the Doc (and later his girlfriend Jennifer), he had been very lonely too. To think he might not see his best friend ever again. . . .
He slumped to the floor and stared blankly at the garage doors, ignoring all the signals that told him he was never going to make it to school on time. Where are ya, Doc?
Tuesday, October 22nd
Grass Valley
8: 32 A. M.
Doc flipped the switch next to the flux capacitor a few times. It obligingly turned on and off, lighting up with pulses of yellow light. Doc smiled. "Perfect. If it ever needs maintenance, I can quickly disable it."
He got out of the car and prepared to do a little more work on the flux dispersal coils. On the way, he picked up his pocket calendar and prepared to cross the day off.
He paused as he saw what day it was. "Great Scott, it's my birthday." he muttered, amazed that he could forget something like this. Then again, in his excitement over the car, he might have forgotten his own name.
A surge of loneliness went through him. For the past three years, he had always celebrated his birthday with Marty and Jennifer. It had become something of a tradition for the bunch of them. Now, he wasn't going to have that.
He sat down next to the DeLorean, his work on the car forgotten. He wondered how Marty was, what he was doing in school, what he had gotten Doc for his birthday. It felt odd to be separated from his friends now, even for a few days. In fact, he wanted to return, just for this one day. It's your birthday, for Christ's sake, one half of him argued.
But I can't go back, Doc reminded himself. I'd be putting my friends in danger. Would be one hell of a birthday if we all ended up dead.
It was a logical reason, but logic had very little sway over emotions. Marty and Jennifer were the only real friends he had, and he was beginning to miss them terribly. I hope they're all right. I would hate for anything to happen to them over me. And I hope they can forgive me for not being there on my birthday. Know I'm thinking of you, kids. With a sigh, he got up and went back to work, humming sadly. "Happy birthday to me. . . ."
Tuesday, October 22nd
Hill Valley
9: 17 A. M.
Marty slipped into the crush of kids leaving first period class. He walked casually, trying to make his way to second period unnoticed.
He didn't succeed. "Well, well, well, Mr. McFly. So glad you could join us today," came the voice of Mr. Steven Strickland, Hill Valley High's feared vice-principal.
Marty turned to face him with a weak grin. "Hello, Mr. Strickland."
Mr. Strickland reached into his pocket and withdrew his pad of yellow tardy slips. "Skipping first period? Even I didn't think you could be that much of a slacker. I'll have to call your parents about this."
"Wait a minute, Mr. Strickland. Marty didn't skip first period."
Both Strickland and Marty turned to see Tommy Glover fighting his way through the mob. "I saw him, Mr. Strickland. He came in late, sure, but he was there."
Strickland frowned. "I'm going to have to verify that, Mr. Glover."
"Good luck. Our teacher only just got here too. We had this really ditzy sub. Hey, Rick, Jennifer, ain't that right?"
Rick looked up from his locker as Jennifer made her way up to them. "What? Oh, yeah! Real ditzy. She didn't take attendance."
"Ask anyone in class," Jennifer nodded, smiling at Marty.
Strickland scowled, struck down. He shoved the slip into Marty's hand. "Don't think you're off the hook, Mr. McFly," he snapped. "I fully intend to check up on this." He stormed away, shoving through the mass of teenagers.
Marty smiled in relief as his posse surrounded him. "Thanks for covering me, guys."
Tommy grinned. "Heck, you got me outa a jam with Needles last week. I had to pay you back sometime."
"Lucky we're all in the same class for math, huh?" Jennifer said, kissing him.
"Did I miss anything?"
"Nah," Rick said as they walked down the hall. "The sub was real. She definitely was in no condition to handle a bunch of teenagers."
"How come you're so late anyway, Marty?" Tommy inquired.
Marty's smile vanished. "Doc's missing. I don't know what's happened to him."
Jennifer frowned. "Missing?"
"I got to his house to tell him happy birthday, and he wasn't there. Neither were the van and the DeLorean."
"Maybe he's just out for the day."
"Doc wouldn't up and leave without leaving me a note. Listen, I'll tell you all about it at lunch. I gotta get to science or Ms. Gipe is going to have my a$$ for breakfast."
Tuesday, October 22nd
Los Angeles
10: 23 A. M.
Abdallah Al-Quien smiled as he watched Los Angeles Airport. Beside him, Amina Ali and Amr Ali fiddled with a remote and Abbas Al-Mahid read a comic book. Five minutes ago, they had planted a bomb inside that airport. Now it was destined to be blown to kingdom come, as a victim of the power of the Libyan United Front. "Press the button," he ordered in thickly-accented English.
Amr did so, grinning widely. They all waited for the explosion that would prove their might as a terrorist group.
It didn't come.
Abdallah frowned. "In the name of Allah. . . . Press it again."
Amr punched the button. Still nothing. The members looked at each other, completely baffled. "Amina! Abbas! Go fetch it! Something must be wrong. Damn American products."
Amina and Abbas returned shortly from their errand, carrying the bomb carefully. They looked at their leader with puzzled expressions. "I don't know what's wrong with it," Abbas said, examining it. "Should we open it up?"
"Put on the radiation suits we stole first," Abdallah said, putting caution first. They all dressed slowly, being careful not to jostle or otherwise disturb the bomb. Then, using pliers, they gently pried open the case. What they saw stunned them.
There were pinball machine parts inside.
Amr pressed the remote button out of curiosity. The flippers inside flipped a few times, and the lights flashed, but that was it. Abdallah's face darkened with rage. "Dr. Brown, you American dog! You have betrayed us!"
"He must die," Amina said dully, her face impassive.
"Yes, Amina, he must be killed. Prepare to return to Hill Valley. An insult like this must not go unpunished."
Tuesday, October 22nd
Hill Valley
12: 04 A. M.
"So why do you think Doc's gone?"
Marty swallowed his sandwich. "I think it has something to do with his secret project."
"Secret project?"
"Doc's been doing stuff to that DeLorean he owns. Stuff he won't even tell me about. If he can't trust me with that info, you think he's going to trust anyone else with it? Somebody must have gotten wind of it and threatened Doc. He had to go into hiding to escape them."
"Jesus, Marty, you're making it sound like some big thriller," Tommy muttered, popping some fries into his mouth.
"Yeah, well, it could be true," Marty retorted. "Any of you know what he's doing to that car?"
"No, but I agree with Tommy," Jennifer said. "I don't think this is anywhere near as dramatic as you think it is. Doc could just be paranoid."
"Maybe," Marty said, unconvinced. He looked at his soda as if it had evolved into a new life form. "I've never been over his place without him there. The place feels -- empty. And a lot smaller."
"No doubt. Doc really livens up the place, doesn't he?" Jennifer agreed.
"You ain't kidding. For a 64-year-old guy, he's got a ton of energy. Sometimes even I have trouble keeping up with him." Marty chuckled. "I remember one time last year that was kinda funny. He was pacing and talking like he always does, and while I was running back and forth after him, I fell flat on my face."
Everyone else at the table giggled. "You were okay, right?" Rick confirmed.
"Yeah, Doc actually felt really guilty." Marty's smile went back into storage. "Jesus, I hope he didn't do this because of me, especially if he's just acting paranoid."
Jennifer kissed him on the cheek. "I'm sure everything's gonna be just fine. But what are we gonna do about his birthday today?"
"I don't know. Part of me is hoping that he'll come back, just for today. I know he won't, but I can't help myself. I guess we should at least leave his presents there for him for when he does come back."
"Hey, no problem, Marty."
Tuesday, October 22nd
Grass Valley
3: 21 P. M.
Doc found himself reaching for his portable phone again. He grabbed his hand and redirected it to the radio. I can't call him without putting myself and him in jeopardy, he rudely reminded himself. I may be lonely, but I can't afford to be stupid.
He went through the channels, looking for something worth listening to. Suddenly, a song he knew very well came on. "Lean on me, when you're not str-oong," Bill Withers warbled. "And I'll be your friend, I'll help you -- carry on. . . ."
Doc was astonished. He and Marty considered that "their song," if such a term could be applied to a song that completely described a friendship. Both the scientist and the musician thought it fit them perfectly. He hadn't heard the song on the radio in forever, though -- it had been released in 1972. So why was it playing now?
As he listened to the song, Doc felt a warm feeling wash over him. For some reason, he felt like Marty was nearby, close enough to at least talk to. "Marty?" he blurted out. He got the feeling Marty was listening. "Thanks. I hope to see you soon." Then he reached out and squeezed the shoulder of the invisible presence.
A minute later, he felt like a sap. Here he was, talking to a ghost in his car while listening to a song on the radio. Embarrassed, he fell back against the seat, glad that there was no one to see him but Einstein. You need to get more human contact, and soon, he thought, turning up the radio.
Just in time to hear the announcer say, "Sorry there, guys, somebody mixed up the records here in the studio. Here's 'Walking on Sunshine' like we said."
Doc stared at the radio for the second time that day. They had never meant to put on "Lean on Me" in the first place. Yet it had come on, just when he needed to hear it.
Suddenly, Doc needed very much to get away from all this. "Einstein! Come here boy! We're going out!" He took one last shocked look at the radio, then quickly made his way out of the garage.
Meanwhile, in Hill Valley. . . .
"Holy Crap, this is the amp?????"
Marty laughed as he watched Rick slobber over his 15th birthday present. "Yeah, that's the amp. Cool, huh?"
"Marty, this is way beyond cool. So way beyond. Man, you are so lucky." He walked up and stroked it very gently. "So, so cool. . . ."
Jennifer rolled her eyes and switched on Doc's radio. "You guys are so weird when it comes to your instruments."
Marty was about to reply when he heard the song that was playing. No way! It can't be "Lean on Me!" I've only heard that song through Doc's record collection. It's so old, it just can't be on the radio.
After a few moments of listening, however, Marty felt a warm feeling wash over him. Suddenly he got the definite feeling Doc was near him. In fact, he could hear him talking: "Marty? Thanks I hope to see you soon." The teen smiled as Doc's hand gave his shoulder a friendly squeeze.
"Hey? Marty?"
Marty blinked, the feeling fading away. Rick and Jennifer were looking at him kind of strangely. "You okay, man?"
"You faded out on us there," Jennifer said, touching his arm.
"Yeah, I'm okay. 'Lean on Me' reminds me of Doc, that's all."
"'Lean on Me?' They put on the wrong record, Marty. We're listening to 'Walking on Sunshine.'"
Marty stared at him a moment, then looked at the radio. Sure enough, Katrina and the Waves had replaced Bill Withers. "This is heavy," he muttered, startled. "Right when I need to hear it, it comes on."
"Talk about coincidences, huh?" Jennifer grinned.
Marty nodded, still frowning. Should I -- nah. They wouldn't understand about me feeling like Doc was there. Besides, I probably just imagined that part. He grabbed his present from where he had put it down. "Come on, let's hide these."
Quick Note to those who have read "Dark Half": The link did exist before that incident back in 1955. They just couldn't consciously contact each other before the accident made them aware of it. (I.e., they can't actually force their thoughts into each other's minds.)