October 26th, 2010.
6:30 AM.
Emmett Brown left his friend's old house with more than enough information. In the now more noticeable twilight, he climbed back into his DeLorean time machine, taking one more look at the sad state of the house.
The drive to Hilldale would still be a few miles. He had promised to visit Marty, but because he'd pass through the heart of town, he couldn't help but look around. In the meantime, he was still in shock of hearing what Lorraine had told him.
That was certainly nothing my own imagination would've pictured. I suppose you can't live in a loveless marriage forever, though. It's nice to hear that she and Marty now get along well. I vividly recall him letting me know on many occasions how strict and mean she was.
These thoughts were interrupted as he accidentally ran the stop sign at the end of Lyon Estates and turned right, at almost 25 MPH.
"Hey! Look out! You crazy drunk driver in your old sportscar!" cried a passerby crossing the street as he stopped in time. It was the bum, Red Jr. now 66 years old.
The scientist didn't hear, though, partly because the windows were tightly rolled up and he was lost in thought. He continued west, down the street that would turn into Route 395. It was now a bit busier than before, but still fairly clear on the roads. Morning shoppers were out, as were more flying cars on the newly built air road.
At that moment, he saw a small ramp leading from the Best Buy he passed earlier, going up to the road. A sign said: Hill County Skyway. Extensions to Los Angeles. Projected date: 2012.
A skyway! How fascinating. Now I know its proper name.
Before 10 minutes had passed, he entered the Courthouse Square. It was looking a lot busier than in 1985, when Doc had last seen it. Many businesses that had moved to the Twin Pines Mall had closed down. As of now, it looked as if the two places were both bustling separately.
Many old buildings seemed to be getting a makeover. The theatre directly in the front of town was installing a holographic projector, and being expanded to two stories. The Statler Toyota car dealership now sold Pontiacs.
At least road cars are still in some demand, thought Doc.
Just a bit further down Hill Street was something that caught his attention. The spot where Lou's Aerobics had stood in 1985, was now called The Café 80's.
Marty would be amused by this revelation. Products from the 1980's are already old enough to be nostalgic. That might make the kid feel old.
Just out of curiosity, Doc decided to park the car on the empty sidewalk and have a look inside. For all the businesses in town, the town was still relatively quiet. It was busier than the area by the old mall, though. Locking the doors securely, he wanted to have a quick look around.
Inside, he saw what looked to be a larger collection of everything Marty had in his room. A guitar, autographed by Eddie Van Halen hung on the wall. A set of Pac Man video game machines stood where the old phone used to be at Lou's. Old-fashioned televisions were available at every table, with selections of The Cosby Show, Punky Brewster, Cheers, Roseanne, the latter of which sounded unfamiliar to Doc. Most of all, he noticed Family Ties playing at a booth. The show starred Michael A. Fox, whom Marty liked, and often joked how closely he resembled.
Behind the counter, a young black guy emerged happily.
"Hey there, fella! Welcome to the Café 80's, can I get you anything now, or are ya just enjoying this great old stuff we've got here?"
The kid seemed oddly familiar, but he didn't want to press or know too much. "Um, yes, how are you? I think I'll just get some buttermilk pancakes and a coffee!"
"Sure! Coffee, huh? That ain't surprising, figurin' as this place was a Starbucks for 15 years, and just closed down last year. Man, that place held memories for me. It opened when I was only a year old. I miss that Internet Café!"
Starbucks? Internet Café? thought Doc. Wait, according to my calculations, it would've still not opened until 1994! I'm hearing old stories about an already futuristic place. I wonder what this Internet is.
As the assistant busboy, 17 year-old Goldie Wilson III, went into the kitchen to tell his staff about the order, he came back out to talk to the stranger.
"Sir, do you want to listen to our radio station? All '80s all the time! Even though all of it came out way before me, I really think it's better than most of the sh**ty music comin' out today."
Doc was fairly hip on 1980's music for a man of his age, although that was, in a large part, due to Marty. He wasn't sure if he could recognize an unfamiliar song from a song in the second half of the decade that just hadn't come out yet. However, he agreed.
"Okay, I'll listen. This decade was even after my time. I could do some catching up. Thank you Mr-"
"Wilson. But, you can call me Goldie, just like my father and my grandpa."
As Goldie went to check on Doc's food, the time traveler was confused by the futuristic radio. Just seeing a tiny Power button, he turned it on, to hear a somewhat familiar, light New Wave-y beat, almost instantly before speaking began.
"Hill County's only Internet radio. All 80's all the time! Thompson Twins, sayin' 'Hold Me Now.' 6:48 this morning, and we continue with Foreigner's Lou Gramm, and his solo hit, 'Midnight Blue.''"
Doc turned it down, but continued to listen. He knew of Foreigner, but didn't recall Marty ever mentioning their singer doing a solo album, and this song didn't sound familiar. He assumed this must've been a future hit, but it sounded pretty much the same as the decade's other music.
Within minutes, Goldie returned with his food.
"All fresh for ya."
"Why, thank you Goldie." As he tried to brainstorm a way to ask about the future without making it sound too suspicious or unknown. "Now, if I may ask a few random questions. What precisely did you mean about the music of today not being very good. Forgive me, but I'm a bit behind the times," he said, assuming his age worked to his advantage in this case.
"Well, it just ain't much too it anymore. Radio formats and all the styles are pretty narrow and strict. It's better than it was 10 years ago, though. Rap music is still goin', but it's not all about gangsters anymore. It's got more of a dance beat to it, but it's still dark. The pop/punk bands like Blink 182 all sort of faded away a few years back. It's a little more okay to like rock and roll now, but most of it still sounds the same. It's either all angry, or it's comin' off TV or American Idol 8 or somethin', ya know? The Britneys of the world are still big, though! That sure hasn't changed nothin' since 1999!"
This was all starting to go way over Doc's head. He figured that was as much as he could take in.
"I can certainly see your point of view. What you said makes sense. You're quite the historian. It's not hard to vision why you would find this job enjoyable."
"Yeah. Well, I've been here since I graduated high school this year, ahead of the others. You know, my grandpa worked at this place when it was called Lou's Café, I think. That was in the mid 1950's when he was just a little older than me now. I'm gonna stay here until I do some more school and get a job workin' on cars, that's what grandpa thinks I should. I'd always been into these hover-conversions people started getting recently." His lighthearted tone dropped a little, as he confessed, "Besides, I don't think there's gonna be no need for old-fashioned workers like me in a few years. Not with all this technology. People could just order by voice command or something."
Doc was impressed. "Well, I have no doubt in you. You're grandfather was such a great mayor, and I'm simply amazed by flying automobiles, too. With a history as interesting as yours, you'll be a successful young man."
"I sure hope so! What did you say your name was?"
Uh-oh. It's now confirmed the other me is alive. Even though Goldie the 3rd hasn't existed long enough to know of me prior to this, I cannot use my real name. Chances are he's heard of me anyway, even if I had already passed away.
"Herschel Von Braun," he said, giving the name of his father, and the family's surname prior to 1908.
"Mr. Van Braun, I hope to see ya soon. These counters, they're lookin' dirty, and I wanna get promoted here, so I'm gonna clean up this place!"
Doc shook his hand, as the ex-mayor's grandson took his remaining tray of food and went his own way. Doc was just leaving when he heard an unmistakable voice getting louder behind him.
"McFly, are you trying to tell me you won't clean my house this afternoon! What kind of plans do you have that are so important, you'll try to blow me off again, hmm?"
Doc didn't need any kind of educated guess or identification to know who this was. He ducked out of sight, standing next to his DeLorean to see 72 year-old Biff Tannen walking around the corner with George McFly! Now, Tannen walked with a slight hunch and his face was lining, but that hardly mattered. This was still clearly not a guy most people would want to mess with!
George looked plainly worn out by all this. He stopped dying his hair along the line, letting it gray its natural color. Other than that, he actually was in okay physical shape for his age, although he was slowing down a bit.
He answered Biff as he usually did. "Biff, I didn't mean to imply that. All I meant was I don't really know how to operate your new mower, and I was worried I might get it wrong."
The still athletic Biff lightly grabbed George by his shirt collar as they walked. "Don't give me that! You're not dumb. If that one don't work, do it with the old-fashioned one. And any poor scumbag knows how to clean windows and vacuum! I've got a lady friend I met coming over and I want the place looking nice for her. A nice, young 30-something girl, so you better not mess the job up. If I was you, I'd make like an old pair of pants and get going!"
I believe the saying goes 'Make like an old pair of pants and split,' Tannen!
"Well, I suppose I'll get over there now, Biff. You said you wanted it by 2 O'clock, right?"
At this moment, a young teenager who also struck the scientist as familiar, came up from behind the two, and staying near Biff. In a loud, obnoxious voice, he said, "Hey, you're a lobo dorkhead! Listen to my gramps!"
Biff smiled a teeny bit as he turned to the boy. "Relax Griff, I know what I'm doing, but, thanks. Now, I see some little twerp across the street. See if you can collect some lunch money from him."
"Yeah! Thanks grandpa!" said 13 year-old Griff as he ran and approached the lone kid, shouting, "Don't you think about moving!" Luckily for him, the classmate overheard, and took off on a small floating board before he could be beaten up.
"Alright, punk! You won this time, but you better be lookin' ahead of you when you walk at school today!" the young bully said, echoing what one of his ancestors would later say, as well as getting another saying wrong.
Meanwhile, George had to ask a question. "Uh, Biff, why do you let your grandson beat some kid up for money or something else?"
"Hello! Hello, anybody home?" he said again. "Think McFly, think! He's gotta get it from somewhere." As they approached the DeLorean, his attention was distracted. "Look at this, McFly! I haven't seen a DeLorean in over 20 years. I wonder who's got this thing. Didn't that crazy old guy Doc Brown have one of these?"
"Oh, yeah. I believe so. These cars are classics now, I'm surprised to see it out here," George said, glad to have a sidetracked Biff.
Great Scott! I strongly hope they don't see me! he thought, ducking down into the seat and bending down over the steering wheel temporarily. He decided not to have any more close calls and possibly get confused for his even older self, so he slipped the keys into the ignition and peeled out - heading towards Hilldale - before Biff could see who it was.
"What the h**l?" shouted Biff. "Wonder why the schmuck took off like that."
"I don't know, but I'll run on over to your place and get all that taken care of."
As he took off down the street, heading the other way, Biff said, "I'll see you at 2, McFly!"
Griff returned at that moment. "Ahh, the ziphead took off before I could pound 'im."
Obviously proud of his grandson, Biff just said, "Know what you mean, but don't worry, kid. I'm sure you and your friends can catch some little punk today to make up for it."
"Yeah. Hey, haven't you bullied that McFly since you guys were my age?"
"Even younger. There's something about all those McFlys, it seems," said the aging man as they got into his car to drop Griff off at school.
