Disclaimer: I do not own Back To The Future or its characters. Characters
from the films are copyright Universal Studios and U-Drive Productions. All
other characters are my own creation and may not be used without
permission.
Blind Spot: Yes, Landstrick is actually Strickland. As for why certain characters aren't alive, my theory is George and Lorraine didn't believe in the idea of rejuvenation clinics. Biff is still alive in my BTTF universe (although I don't know if he'll appear in this story) and as for Marty.you'll have to keep reading to find out ;-)
Anakin McFly: I don't know if guitar strings can break by being hit too hard (they can if you over-tune the guitar), but my friend broke a string on her violin in a similar way and I think they're made out of the same kind of stuff. By the way, your fics are excellent!
Stoko and Kat: Thanks for your reviews!
~*~*~*~*~
I woke up the next morning feeling different. There was no other way to explain it; it was just a normal Saturday to everybody else in the house. But normally on the weekend I'd have wanted to hole up in my room, watching lousy holo-videos and pretending to be studying for a test set by one or other of my teachers. That day I didn't even hit the snooze button. I jumped out of bed and ran into my bathroom, only stopping to type a few requirements for clothes into my computerised wardrobe. Part of me wanted to sing as I prepared to face the day. I could feel something stirring deep within me, the same as when I was really little and got swallowed up by old adventure stories.
My aunt looked surprised at my enthusiasm as I raced through the breakfast room. An eagerness to get all my chores out of the way had made me oblivious to the smell of food. Usually I hate doing that stuff; even though most of the place can sort itself out, I still seemed to get lumbered with all the jobs on the weekend. It seemed like no time at all had passed once I'd finished my whirlwind cleaning-up session. I grabbed my skateboard and was about to take off to Courthouse Square when I felt a hand on my shoulder.
"Where do you think you're going, young lady?"
I resisted the temptation to fold my arms and glare. My aunt was standing behind me, a look of slight shock on her face. When I turned round, she let go and returned to her usual expression of disapproval. "You're staying home until all your chores are finished. That's the rule."
"But they are finished." I began, wondering what she'd cooked up for me now. Maybe she was still in a bad mood because I was late home last night. Often when my aunt got annoyed with me, I got made to waste my weekend on the worst jobs of the lot. Like the time I went camping with the girls and forgot to call her, I spent the rest of my summer scrubbing toilets. Nothing could be as bad as that. I changed my tone and spoke in a light voice. "I'm sorry, Aunt Marlene. What did I forget to do?"
"That attic needs clearing out," she said. I must have looked up in exasperation, because she snapped, "Don't roll your eyes at me, Megan! Now get that job done, or else it's no TV, no videophone, no Internet and certainly no friends for a month!" She turned around and headed back into the kitchen, muttering under her breath and slamming the door behind her.
I didn't want to have to go up into the stupid attic. Why couldn't Dad do some stuff at home for a change? But he'd gone out fishing and wouldn't be back until later, so it was just me and my aunt. And when she threatened to ground me, she meant it. I guess there was nothing I could do but get on with it. Still, I could feel myself beginning to lose my temper as I violently kicked my skateboard across the hallway. My stamping footsteps echoed on the stairs like gunshots.
I reached the second floor and looked up for the hole in the ceiling that led to the attic. "Ladder down," I said in a monotone. The long mass of silver rungs unfurled from the hatch with a drawn-out creak; it clearly hadn't been used for a while. I waited until it had locked itself into position and began to climb.
Inside the attic was pitch black. "Lights on," I said. There was no response from the voice sensors. "Lights on!" I repeated, my voice growing edgy. The halogen tubes overhead flickered briefly, then settled to a soft glow. Knowing my luck, my aunt would make me fix those some time soon. I glanced around the enormous room, letting my eyes get used to the gloom. The place was crammed full of junk. I had to navigate the floorboards carefully; they were white with age and weakened with the weight piled on top of them. My nostrils filled with the inch-thick layer of dust that had settled over everything. I choked on my coughing and began to pick through the heap of stuff; cracked and broken records, a PlayStation 4 I'd blown up one Christmas, various temperamental appliances that had short-circuited.
Time slowed to a crawl, losing all meaning. I began to think I could stuff the trash bags in my sleep. There seemed to be a gradual build-up of rubbish behind me as I worked my way towards the back of the attic. Right now, my friends were probably crashing the mall and having fun laughing at popular kids, while here I was stuck cleaning somewhere that hadn't seen the light of day for twenty years! I sighed and reached over to grab for an old brown envelope when I tripped over something.
"Ow!" I yelled as I hit the floorboards, which let out a worrying creak. I got back up into a crouching position and turned to see what had made me fall. It was an absolutely gorgeous guitar. I picked it up gingerly, terrified that it might crumble to dust in my hands, and absentmindedly hit one of the strings. The note vibrated through the attic, fading into nothing after what seemed like an age. Seriously cool. "Rock and roll," I said, unable to suppress my grin. This would be the perfect retro replacement for my Fender until I could get it fixed.
I was about to put the guitar back down when I noticed something on the back. A heart had been carved into the paint on the left hand-side next to the neck. Inside it was written 'MM + JP'. For a moment I wondered who they were. Maybe my dad had had a girlfriend with those initials back when he was a kid, or perhaps the guitar had been my aunt's. No, she wouldn't have played something like this. It was too old to have belonged to either of them.
Wait a minute.wasn't Grandma Jennifer's maiden name Parker? Of course, it must have been my Grandpa Marty's! I felt all warm and fuzzy inside for a moment, thinking it was cute how long they'd been together, then a pang of jealousy as I thought about what was going on in my head. No, how could I think that? I shook my head to get rid of my bad thoughts and carried on with the job. The package I'd been trying to get hold of had fallen on top of a heap of trash bags, so I was able to get to it more easily. I pulled it towards me and blew the dust off the top, wondering whether or not it was important.
The writing on the front read, 'To Meg McFly. Not to be opened until after you find the guitar.' I smiled a little, recognising the handwriting. But I still didn't know what I was going to find here. For a moment I thought of opening the parcel, but then put it back. It would be more fun if I waited a little while. The sooner I got this job out of the way, the sooner I could get my hands on the prize.
It seemed to take forever to finish getting all the stuff out of the attic. I wanted to jack it in several times just so I could open the envelope, but I knew I couldn't. My aunt would go crazy if she found out I'd been slacking. A month of being grounded was definitely not the most appealing way to spend time, especially so soon after the star of my senior year. Eventually, after what felt like an age, I threw the last bag into the trash can and ran back upstairs. Once I was inside my bedroom I set the door lock. No-one was going to disturb me now. I hugged the envelope tightly to my chest for a second and then slowly pulled the flap open, watching the sticky glue fronds stretch and snap. Just as I was about to break the last one, I realised what a huge step I might be about to take. Whatever was in here could change my life.
I tried to get rid of those thoughts, telling myself that I worried too much. But I couldn't take the suspense any longer. My hands reached out and ripped open the package before I could do anything to stop the impulse. A black cuboid fell onto the bed as I shook the envelope upside down. I looked at it for a few seconds, wondering what it was. We didn't have anything like that these days. Maybe I should go ask my aunt. No, knowing her she'd confiscate it and I'd never see it again. I stuck my hand into the parcel, trying to see if there was anything else inside. My fingers curled tightly around something and I drew it out slowly, holding my breath in case it was something really major. It wasn't; just a scrap of paper with a familiar scribble of my name on it. I unfurled the neatly folded note and read:
This is something called a video tape. They've been obsolete since the Noughts. Go back up into the attic and you'll find a small TV with a black box underneath it. Put the tape in the slot that's in the front of the black box and hit play.
I re-folded the note and stuffed the video tape underneath my jacket. Creeping out onto the landing like a thief in the night, I glanced around wildly to check my aunt wasn't watching. "Ladder down," I said again, my voice surprising me with its breathiness. The silver ladder descended once again in response. My feet were moving a lot faster when I climbed up this time; perhaps it was because something in me was desperate to find out what was on this video tape.
The TV with the black box was right at the back of the attic, balanced precariously on top of some rickety-looking book shelves. It was intriguing to find a new appliance that I hadn't seen before. I walked over to it and peered at the back of it, wondering how much rewiring it would take to have this hooked up to play holo-videos. Then I remembered what had happened and slapped myself lightly on the wrist. No more messing with electrical stuff, Megan, not after what happened back then.
I shoved the tape into the slot, pressed the button and settled down on top of a heap of threadbare cushions that had belonged to some ancestor of ours from two hundred years ago. This wasn't going to be like the movies I'd watched on holo-DVD at Jake's house; I wasn't even sure if the tale would have a happy ending. But however the story turned out, I had an uneasy feeling that I was going to have a major part in it.and I didn't know if I wanted that.
The screen flickered for a second and then an old guy with crazy white hair appeared on screen. He was dressed in a white radiation suit and spoke very quickly. I had to play the tape five times before I actually understood what he was saying.
"Good evening, I'm Doctor Emmett Brown. I'm standing on the parking lot of Twin Pines Mall. It's Saturday morning, October 26th 1985, 1:18 AM and this is temporal experiment number one."
I watched silently as the tape spiralled on before my eyes. The old dude shut his dog in a silver car, holding up a pair of clocks to the camera before this, and then sent the creature ahead in time. As the vehicle's speed climbed to eighty-eight miles per hour, I began to wonder what the point of this was. Then I found out. The car disappeared in a blue glow, leaving trails of flame behind it, and reappeared a minute later with the dog's clock a minute behind the scientist guy's. A few seconds later, the screen faded to black.
I sat and stared open-mouthed for what seemed like forever. Was this true? I couldn't believe what I was seeing. I mean, I'd heard about some crazy inventions in the last seventeen years, but this one took the entire bakery. If it was real.my mind was going out of control with possibilities. This would make history projects so much easier, if nothing else. But something made me feel a bit suspicious. It seemed too weird, too much like something from a comic book or a science fiction movie. Or my scepticism could get the better of me, like it usually did when I was proved wrong. After all, we'd already got humans to Mars, cloned extinct animals and made brain stimulation a training technique. How far off was time travel?
Suddenly there was a crackle of static on the TV. It flickered a couple of times to reveal what looked like a teenager's bedroom. I was curious; when had this bit of film been shot? Judging by the rock band posters on the wall, it wasn't too recently. I squinted in a vain attempt to make out any details that might help, but had no luck. There was a momentary pause as someone adjusted the camera, and then a teenage guy walked around to face the lens and sat down on the end of the bed. He looked strangely familiar.
"Hey, Megan." He grinned in a confident but not arrogant way. "Recognise me? It's your Grandpa Marty here, talking to you all the way from 1985. If you're watching this I guess you've seen the footage of Einstein in the DeLorean. I don't know how to explain this to you, but everything you watched was real. And it's the reason why I'm talking to you now.
"I'm not sure how or why, but the time machine is linked to your destiny in some way. It's important that you get your hands on it as soon as possible in order to find out what that is - even though the Doc says not to know too much about what happens in the future." He winked at me and I couldn't help smiling back.
"What you have to do is find two brothers called Jules and Verne Brown. They're the sons of an old friend of mine, Doctor Emmett Brown - the guy you saw on the tape. Last time I checked they were still living in Hill Valley, at 1646 John F Kennedy Drive. I'm guessing they'd be fairly old men now, but you need them to help you. They're the only ones who know where the time machines are and how they work. After that it's up to you.
"Whatever happens, you're the best granddaughter I could have asked for. No matter what you do and where you go, I'm always going to be there for you. And I know you're sorry.even though you don't have to be. But I guess nobody's ever going to convince you any differently. Good luck, Meg. Love you always." He waved and reached over to turn the camera off.
The film had left me choked up. How could he be so nice to me after what I'd done to him? I was the worst granddaughter in the history of the world. Something about this gave me an uneasy feeling; why did my grandpa want me to fix the time machine? Did he have some kind of plan for my life? I knew I didn't want to get involved in this, but I had to if I was going to fulfil that scheme. Well, the sooner I got this out of the way the better. Maybe once I'd fulfilled his last wishes I could concentrate on what was important: my love life, or lack of it. I wondered if my grandpa had similar problems when he was chasing Grandma Jennifer.
Of course! That was it; Grandma Jennifer would help me out over this time travel thing. I hadn't called on her in a while anyway. There was an uneasy guilt settling over me - the same guilt I felt whenever I looked at Jake - as I remembered this fact, but I shook it off. She wouldn't mind if I dropped by for coffee and girl-talk. To be honest, I kind of missed our weekly chats now that they'd petered out over the summer. Maybe now was a good time to get back in the habit. I grabbed my skateboard from its corner, ran down the stairs and headed out the door.
After the accident, Grandma moved back into the house my grandfather had lived in as a teenager, over on the Lyon Estates. She says it makes her feel more in tune with his spirit. I don't believe all that stuff, but it makes her happier so I play along with it when I visit her. As I raced around the corner, I called her on my pocket phone. She said of course she didn't mind if I dropped by and I was more than welcome to come over any time. Sometimes I wonder whether she really wants to see me, or if she just feels she has to because of who I am. If I were her, I wouldn't want to hang out with someone who'd done what I had.
I jumped off the skateboard as I pulled up outside the house - a typical Californian 1950s one-level. Grandma stood in the doorway smiling at me. Secretly I thought the years hadn't been too kind to her - she looked a little more lined than when I last saw her - but I didn't let it show. I ran up the path to her and gave her a tight hug. She laughed as she gently eased me away from her and looked into my face. I was reluctant to let go, wanting to remain breathing in the warm soapy smell of her apron.
"Lands sakes, child! I declare, you're getting taller by the minute," she clucked. I was used to this old routine after so long, but smiled wanly to let her know I still appreciated the comment. She walked into the living room, still chatting away and asking me questions, like how my dad was and if my aunt was alright and was school going OK. I gave my usual monosyllabic answers, not really concentrating on either talking to her or making the coffee. What mattered to me right then was getting as much information as I could.
"So," Grandma Jennifer said as I set down the tray of coffee and biscuits, "what did you want to talk to me about, Meg?"
I looked up at her with an expression of mock surprise on my face. She smiled knowingly in reply. "You've got that look on your face like Marty always did when he had something on his mind. There's no point trying to hide it; I've known you for too long. What's up?"
I sighed inwardly; she'd given me no choice but to tell all. When I'd finished explaining what had happened, she nodded thoughtfully. "I remember something really vague about a time machine," she said slowly, as though trying to recall a long-distant memory, "way back when I was your age. But it all seems like I dreamt it now. I'm sorry, Meg honey, but I just can't help you. What I suggest you do is what your grandfather told you to - go find the Browns. Other than that, all I can say is good luck. I think you're gonna need it."
I forced a grin. "Thanks, Grandma," I said. A sudden impulse rose up in me and I gave her a quick tight hug. She seemed surprised at first, and then hugged me back. I think she knew I might have been about to cry.
"I don't care what you think, Meg," she said. "It wasn't your fault; you didn't do anything wrong. The Lord saw fit to take your grandpa from us and that's all there is to it. Now stop feeling like you're a bad person and go do what you have to." I nodded and left her house without another word, feeling the white-hot tears prick my eyes.
The journey over to JFK Drive was over so quickly I almost bypassed the house. 1646 was an old broken-down garage that seemed to have once been part of a huge house. Now all the land had been bought up by a burger chain. For a moment I almost thought about going to grab something to eat - anything to put off confronting the possibility of a time machine. No, I couldn't do that to my grandpa. It wouldn't be right. I turned away from the fast food place and walked up to the entry-phone, peering at the building through the chain-link gate. The place seemed to have been abandoned years ago, but there was an atmosphere about it that made me reluctant to leave.
I took a deep breath and pressed my thumb against the sensor. There was a bleep and a voice came out of the speaker. It sounded a little like the old guy I'd heard on the video tape. "Hi, Meg, come on in. Verne and I are waiting for you." I wondered how these guys knew my name, but forgot it almost instantly. The gate swung open with a drawn-out creak and I walked down the path like someone from Elizabethan times on the way to their execution.
When I reached the garage, I knocked tentatively on the door. There was a click as it opened to reveal an old guy with a shock of long receding white hair dressed in a lab coat. "You must be Megan," he said, offering a hand that looked like it was made of brown paper. "I'm Jules Brown, and this is my brother Verne." He gestured towards a guy who looked like his slightly younger twin. I shook Jules' hand warmly and nodded a greeting in Verne's direction. Already these two seemed pretty cool. I had a good feeling about working on this project with them. It had been ten years since I'd even touched any car circuitry - I'd always loved taking things apart and figuring out how they worked, but the accident had made me stop all that - so I knew I'd be a little rusty. Still, the Browns looked like good teachers.
"OK," I said, rubbing my hands together in anticipation. "So where's this DeLorean then?"
Blind Spot: Yes, Landstrick is actually Strickland. As for why certain characters aren't alive, my theory is George and Lorraine didn't believe in the idea of rejuvenation clinics. Biff is still alive in my BTTF universe (although I don't know if he'll appear in this story) and as for Marty.you'll have to keep reading to find out ;-)
Anakin McFly: I don't know if guitar strings can break by being hit too hard (they can if you over-tune the guitar), but my friend broke a string on her violin in a similar way and I think they're made out of the same kind of stuff. By the way, your fics are excellent!
Stoko and Kat: Thanks for your reviews!
~*~*~*~*~
I woke up the next morning feeling different. There was no other way to explain it; it was just a normal Saturday to everybody else in the house. But normally on the weekend I'd have wanted to hole up in my room, watching lousy holo-videos and pretending to be studying for a test set by one or other of my teachers. That day I didn't even hit the snooze button. I jumped out of bed and ran into my bathroom, only stopping to type a few requirements for clothes into my computerised wardrobe. Part of me wanted to sing as I prepared to face the day. I could feel something stirring deep within me, the same as when I was really little and got swallowed up by old adventure stories.
My aunt looked surprised at my enthusiasm as I raced through the breakfast room. An eagerness to get all my chores out of the way had made me oblivious to the smell of food. Usually I hate doing that stuff; even though most of the place can sort itself out, I still seemed to get lumbered with all the jobs on the weekend. It seemed like no time at all had passed once I'd finished my whirlwind cleaning-up session. I grabbed my skateboard and was about to take off to Courthouse Square when I felt a hand on my shoulder.
"Where do you think you're going, young lady?"
I resisted the temptation to fold my arms and glare. My aunt was standing behind me, a look of slight shock on her face. When I turned round, she let go and returned to her usual expression of disapproval. "You're staying home until all your chores are finished. That's the rule."
"But they are finished." I began, wondering what she'd cooked up for me now. Maybe she was still in a bad mood because I was late home last night. Often when my aunt got annoyed with me, I got made to waste my weekend on the worst jobs of the lot. Like the time I went camping with the girls and forgot to call her, I spent the rest of my summer scrubbing toilets. Nothing could be as bad as that. I changed my tone and spoke in a light voice. "I'm sorry, Aunt Marlene. What did I forget to do?"
"That attic needs clearing out," she said. I must have looked up in exasperation, because she snapped, "Don't roll your eyes at me, Megan! Now get that job done, or else it's no TV, no videophone, no Internet and certainly no friends for a month!" She turned around and headed back into the kitchen, muttering under her breath and slamming the door behind her.
I didn't want to have to go up into the stupid attic. Why couldn't Dad do some stuff at home for a change? But he'd gone out fishing and wouldn't be back until later, so it was just me and my aunt. And when she threatened to ground me, she meant it. I guess there was nothing I could do but get on with it. Still, I could feel myself beginning to lose my temper as I violently kicked my skateboard across the hallway. My stamping footsteps echoed on the stairs like gunshots.
I reached the second floor and looked up for the hole in the ceiling that led to the attic. "Ladder down," I said in a monotone. The long mass of silver rungs unfurled from the hatch with a drawn-out creak; it clearly hadn't been used for a while. I waited until it had locked itself into position and began to climb.
Inside the attic was pitch black. "Lights on," I said. There was no response from the voice sensors. "Lights on!" I repeated, my voice growing edgy. The halogen tubes overhead flickered briefly, then settled to a soft glow. Knowing my luck, my aunt would make me fix those some time soon. I glanced around the enormous room, letting my eyes get used to the gloom. The place was crammed full of junk. I had to navigate the floorboards carefully; they were white with age and weakened with the weight piled on top of them. My nostrils filled with the inch-thick layer of dust that had settled over everything. I choked on my coughing and began to pick through the heap of stuff; cracked and broken records, a PlayStation 4 I'd blown up one Christmas, various temperamental appliances that had short-circuited.
Time slowed to a crawl, losing all meaning. I began to think I could stuff the trash bags in my sleep. There seemed to be a gradual build-up of rubbish behind me as I worked my way towards the back of the attic. Right now, my friends were probably crashing the mall and having fun laughing at popular kids, while here I was stuck cleaning somewhere that hadn't seen the light of day for twenty years! I sighed and reached over to grab for an old brown envelope when I tripped over something.
"Ow!" I yelled as I hit the floorboards, which let out a worrying creak. I got back up into a crouching position and turned to see what had made me fall. It was an absolutely gorgeous guitar. I picked it up gingerly, terrified that it might crumble to dust in my hands, and absentmindedly hit one of the strings. The note vibrated through the attic, fading into nothing after what seemed like an age. Seriously cool. "Rock and roll," I said, unable to suppress my grin. This would be the perfect retro replacement for my Fender until I could get it fixed.
I was about to put the guitar back down when I noticed something on the back. A heart had been carved into the paint on the left hand-side next to the neck. Inside it was written 'MM + JP'. For a moment I wondered who they were. Maybe my dad had had a girlfriend with those initials back when he was a kid, or perhaps the guitar had been my aunt's. No, she wouldn't have played something like this. It was too old to have belonged to either of them.
Wait a minute.wasn't Grandma Jennifer's maiden name Parker? Of course, it must have been my Grandpa Marty's! I felt all warm and fuzzy inside for a moment, thinking it was cute how long they'd been together, then a pang of jealousy as I thought about what was going on in my head. No, how could I think that? I shook my head to get rid of my bad thoughts and carried on with the job. The package I'd been trying to get hold of had fallen on top of a heap of trash bags, so I was able to get to it more easily. I pulled it towards me and blew the dust off the top, wondering whether or not it was important.
The writing on the front read, 'To Meg McFly. Not to be opened until after you find the guitar.' I smiled a little, recognising the handwriting. But I still didn't know what I was going to find here. For a moment I thought of opening the parcel, but then put it back. It would be more fun if I waited a little while. The sooner I got this job out of the way, the sooner I could get my hands on the prize.
It seemed to take forever to finish getting all the stuff out of the attic. I wanted to jack it in several times just so I could open the envelope, but I knew I couldn't. My aunt would go crazy if she found out I'd been slacking. A month of being grounded was definitely not the most appealing way to spend time, especially so soon after the star of my senior year. Eventually, after what felt like an age, I threw the last bag into the trash can and ran back upstairs. Once I was inside my bedroom I set the door lock. No-one was going to disturb me now. I hugged the envelope tightly to my chest for a second and then slowly pulled the flap open, watching the sticky glue fronds stretch and snap. Just as I was about to break the last one, I realised what a huge step I might be about to take. Whatever was in here could change my life.
I tried to get rid of those thoughts, telling myself that I worried too much. But I couldn't take the suspense any longer. My hands reached out and ripped open the package before I could do anything to stop the impulse. A black cuboid fell onto the bed as I shook the envelope upside down. I looked at it for a few seconds, wondering what it was. We didn't have anything like that these days. Maybe I should go ask my aunt. No, knowing her she'd confiscate it and I'd never see it again. I stuck my hand into the parcel, trying to see if there was anything else inside. My fingers curled tightly around something and I drew it out slowly, holding my breath in case it was something really major. It wasn't; just a scrap of paper with a familiar scribble of my name on it. I unfurled the neatly folded note and read:
This is something called a video tape. They've been obsolete since the Noughts. Go back up into the attic and you'll find a small TV with a black box underneath it. Put the tape in the slot that's in the front of the black box and hit play.
I re-folded the note and stuffed the video tape underneath my jacket. Creeping out onto the landing like a thief in the night, I glanced around wildly to check my aunt wasn't watching. "Ladder down," I said again, my voice surprising me with its breathiness. The silver ladder descended once again in response. My feet were moving a lot faster when I climbed up this time; perhaps it was because something in me was desperate to find out what was on this video tape.
The TV with the black box was right at the back of the attic, balanced precariously on top of some rickety-looking book shelves. It was intriguing to find a new appliance that I hadn't seen before. I walked over to it and peered at the back of it, wondering how much rewiring it would take to have this hooked up to play holo-videos. Then I remembered what had happened and slapped myself lightly on the wrist. No more messing with electrical stuff, Megan, not after what happened back then.
I shoved the tape into the slot, pressed the button and settled down on top of a heap of threadbare cushions that had belonged to some ancestor of ours from two hundred years ago. This wasn't going to be like the movies I'd watched on holo-DVD at Jake's house; I wasn't even sure if the tale would have a happy ending. But however the story turned out, I had an uneasy feeling that I was going to have a major part in it.and I didn't know if I wanted that.
The screen flickered for a second and then an old guy with crazy white hair appeared on screen. He was dressed in a white radiation suit and spoke very quickly. I had to play the tape five times before I actually understood what he was saying.
"Good evening, I'm Doctor Emmett Brown. I'm standing on the parking lot of Twin Pines Mall. It's Saturday morning, October 26th 1985, 1:18 AM and this is temporal experiment number one."
I watched silently as the tape spiralled on before my eyes. The old dude shut his dog in a silver car, holding up a pair of clocks to the camera before this, and then sent the creature ahead in time. As the vehicle's speed climbed to eighty-eight miles per hour, I began to wonder what the point of this was. Then I found out. The car disappeared in a blue glow, leaving trails of flame behind it, and reappeared a minute later with the dog's clock a minute behind the scientist guy's. A few seconds later, the screen faded to black.
I sat and stared open-mouthed for what seemed like forever. Was this true? I couldn't believe what I was seeing. I mean, I'd heard about some crazy inventions in the last seventeen years, but this one took the entire bakery. If it was real.my mind was going out of control with possibilities. This would make history projects so much easier, if nothing else. But something made me feel a bit suspicious. It seemed too weird, too much like something from a comic book or a science fiction movie. Or my scepticism could get the better of me, like it usually did when I was proved wrong. After all, we'd already got humans to Mars, cloned extinct animals and made brain stimulation a training technique. How far off was time travel?
Suddenly there was a crackle of static on the TV. It flickered a couple of times to reveal what looked like a teenager's bedroom. I was curious; when had this bit of film been shot? Judging by the rock band posters on the wall, it wasn't too recently. I squinted in a vain attempt to make out any details that might help, but had no luck. There was a momentary pause as someone adjusted the camera, and then a teenage guy walked around to face the lens and sat down on the end of the bed. He looked strangely familiar.
"Hey, Megan." He grinned in a confident but not arrogant way. "Recognise me? It's your Grandpa Marty here, talking to you all the way from 1985. If you're watching this I guess you've seen the footage of Einstein in the DeLorean. I don't know how to explain this to you, but everything you watched was real. And it's the reason why I'm talking to you now.
"I'm not sure how or why, but the time machine is linked to your destiny in some way. It's important that you get your hands on it as soon as possible in order to find out what that is - even though the Doc says not to know too much about what happens in the future." He winked at me and I couldn't help smiling back.
"What you have to do is find two brothers called Jules and Verne Brown. They're the sons of an old friend of mine, Doctor Emmett Brown - the guy you saw on the tape. Last time I checked they were still living in Hill Valley, at 1646 John F Kennedy Drive. I'm guessing they'd be fairly old men now, but you need them to help you. They're the only ones who know where the time machines are and how they work. After that it's up to you.
"Whatever happens, you're the best granddaughter I could have asked for. No matter what you do and where you go, I'm always going to be there for you. And I know you're sorry.even though you don't have to be. But I guess nobody's ever going to convince you any differently. Good luck, Meg. Love you always." He waved and reached over to turn the camera off.
The film had left me choked up. How could he be so nice to me after what I'd done to him? I was the worst granddaughter in the history of the world. Something about this gave me an uneasy feeling; why did my grandpa want me to fix the time machine? Did he have some kind of plan for my life? I knew I didn't want to get involved in this, but I had to if I was going to fulfil that scheme. Well, the sooner I got this out of the way the better. Maybe once I'd fulfilled his last wishes I could concentrate on what was important: my love life, or lack of it. I wondered if my grandpa had similar problems when he was chasing Grandma Jennifer.
Of course! That was it; Grandma Jennifer would help me out over this time travel thing. I hadn't called on her in a while anyway. There was an uneasy guilt settling over me - the same guilt I felt whenever I looked at Jake - as I remembered this fact, but I shook it off. She wouldn't mind if I dropped by for coffee and girl-talk. To be honest, I kind of missed our weekly chats now that they'd petered out over the summer. Maybe now was a good time to get back in the habit. I grabbed my skateboard from its corner, ran down the stairs and headed out the door.
After the accident, Grandma moved back into the house my grandfather had lived in as a teenager, over on the Lyon Estates. She says it makes her feel more in tune with his spirit. I don't believe all that stuff, but it makes her happier so I play along with it when I visit her. As I raced around the corner, I called her on my pocket phone. She said of course she didn't mind if I dropped by and I was more than welcome to come over any time. Sometimes I wonder whether she really wants to see me, or if she just feels she has to because of who I am. If I were her, I wouldn't want to hang out with someone who'd done what I had.
I jumped off the skateboard as I pulled up outside the house - a typical Californian 1950s one-level. Grandma stood in the doorway smiling at me. Secretly I thought the years hadn't been too kind to her - she looked a little more lined than when I last saw her - but I didn't let it show. I ran up the path to her and gave her a tight hug. She laughed as she gently eased me away from her and looked into my face. I was reluctant to let go, wanting to remain breathing in the warm soapy smell of her apron.
"Lands sakes, child! I declare, you're getting taller by the minute," she clucked. I was used to this old routine after so long, but smiled wanly to let her know I still appreciated the comment. She walked into the living room, still chatting away and asking me questions, like how my dad was and if my aunt was alright and was school going OK. I gave my usual monosyllabic answers, not really concentrating on either talking to her or making the coffee. What mattered to me right then was getting as much information as I could.
"So," Grandma Jennifer said as I set down the tray of coffee and biscuits, "what did you want to talk to me about, Meg?"
I looked up at her with an expression of mock surprise on my face. She smiled knowingly in reply. "You've got that look on your face like Marty always did when he had something on his mind. There's no point trying to hide it; I've known you for too long. What's up?"
I sighed inwardly; she'd given me no choice but to tell all. When I'd finished explaining what had happened, she nodded thoughtfully. "I remember something really vague about a time machine," she said slowly, as though trying to recall a long-distant memory, "way back when I was your age. But it all seems like I dreamt it now. I'm sorry, Meg honey, but I just can't help you. What I suggest you do is what your grandfather told you to - go find the Browns. Other than that, all I can say is good luck. I think you're gonna need it."
I forced a grin. "Thanks, Grandma," I said. A sudden impulse rose up in me and I gave her a quick tight hug. She seemed surprised at first, and then hugged me back. I think she knew I might have been about to cry.
"I don't care what you think, Meg," she said. "It wasn't your fault; you didn't do anything wrong. The Lord saw fit to take your grandpa from us and that's all there is to it. Now stop feeling like you're a bad person and go do what you have to." I nodded and left her house without another word, feeling the white-hot tears prick my eyes.
The journey over to JFK Drive was over so quickly I almost bypassed the house. 1646 was an old broken-down garage that seemed to have once been part of a huge house. Now all the land had been bought up by a burger chain. For a moment I almost thought about going to grab something to eat - anything to put off confronting the possibility of a time machine. No, I couldn't do that to my grandpa. It wouldn't be right. I turned away from the fast food place and walked up to the entry-phone, peering at the building through the chain-link gate. The place seemed to have been abandoned years ago, but there was an atmosphere about it that made me reluctant to leave.
I took a deep breath and pressed my thumb against the sensor. There was a bleep and a voice came out of the speaker. It sounded a little like the old guy I'd heard on the video tape. "Hi, Meg, come on in. Verne and I are waiting for you." I wondered how these guys knew my name, but forgot it almost instantly. The gate swung open with a drawn-out creak and I walked down the path like someone from Elizabethan times on the way to their execution.
When I reached the garage, I knocked tentatively on the door. There was a click as it opened to reveal an old guy with a shock of long receding white hair dressed in a lab coat. "You must be Megan," he said, offering a hand that looked like it was made of brown paper. "I'm Jules Brown, and this is my brother Verne." He gestured towards a guy who looked like his slightly younger twin. I shook Jules' hand warmly and nodded a greeting in Verne's direction. Already these two seemed pretty cool. I had a good feeling about working on this project with them. It had been ten years since I'd even touched any car circuitry - I'd always loved taking things apart and figuring out how they worked, but the accident had made me stop all that - so I knew I'd be a little rusty. Still, the Browns looked like good teachers.
"OK," I said, rubbing my hands together in anticipation. "So where's this DeLorean then?"