5:00 P.M.

"Mom," Brianna called, innocently as possible, as she came into the living room. "Lindsey and I were out downtown today and we found some teenage guy's school stuff. Could you take me over there to drop it off for him?"

"Listen, Brianna, I'm kinda tired, okay? Besides, after I caught you with that Pit Bull yesterday, I don't know if I should take you on any joyrides for awhile," 40 year-old Susan Schwartz said, a little irritated.

"I just thought those lobos aren't gonna use it if they got busted. Sorry."

"I told you, you can have it when you're 16. Maybe sooner, if you're responsible with a regular Mattel one like you already have," she said, not knowing about her giving it to a young Marty Sr. yesterday. "Anyway, how do you know where this older boy lives?"

"His address was on the bag," she said, again masking a smile. "Here it is, if you want to see."

Taking Marty Junior's futuristic backpack, she indeed saw the address. "Hilldale is almost four miles from here, young lady. I had a hard day at work. Besides, look at what his I.D. says. Date of Birth: May 21st, 1998. He's 17, so I'm sure he's able to come out here himself, or at least get someone else to pick it up for him," Susan said, sitting back down.

"Mo-ooooo-m," Brianna cried, figuring she still was barely young enough to get away with the cute little kid voice. "I just thought it would be nice if we, I don't know, surprised Martin by bringing it back."

Come on, that's really low rez. You gotta think of a better one!

Sighing, her mother began to relent. "Okay, Bri. I need to relax and have dinner. We can go out there after the skyway clears up a bit. I still don't know why you're so insistent on this, though. Normally, you yourself would've just said, 'Let's just call him and get it over with'."

The young girl was at a loss for words. "Umm, well, I guess I was just in a different mood today."

Susan happened to notice the teen's picture with his I.D. and had a sudden realization.

"Ohhh, I bet I know why you wanna go out there so badly," she said, her demeanor suddenly changing. Now grinning and teasing her daughter as if they were girlfriends, she insisted, "You think this guy is cute, don't you?"

Oh, God, mom. I'm not even old enough to date, and even if I was, he's such a whiner crybaby and is afraid of me. Why would I wanna go out with someone like that?

"Not really, I don't think. I'm only 10."

"That's okay, hon. I have a little story to tell," she said, taking a breath. "Way back in 1985 when I lived in Lyon Estates, I was selling girl scout cookies. You know that old famous science fiction author, George McFly? He and his family lived in this one house. Anyway, his son, who I now know is Martin Jr's dad, answered the door and bought a box from me. He made small talk with grandpa more than me, but I still thought he was so hot."

I guess that's kind of a cool story, but I'm not trying to visit this guy's son to crush on him. I just want another hoverboard off him! Nobody will ever know, either.

…..

7:15 P.M.

47-year-old Marty McFly Sr. sat in his den. He was depressed as ever, after getting fired from his job by giving in to his childhood inability to say no to being called a 'chicken.' According to his parents and everyone he knew, his "other self" pre-October 25th, 1985, reacted to the same thing, just as "he" remembered doing in the world he originally came from.

Still, despite obvious similarities, that didn't make it any easier having to start from scratch at 17 years old, not knowing which memories to believe anymore, and having to be an actor in his everyday life.

Jesus Christ. Sometimes I wish I'd never gotten in that damn time machine and gone to 1955! I almost think the world would've been better if dad had stayed a pushover and everything else. At least I wouldn't have had a truck to get into that accident with. I'm still kinda mad Doc wouldn't let me prevent that, but what about losing my job now?

As the older man's aging, depressed face grew even sadder, he continued doing the one thing that made him at least somewhat happy in life: Music. He was now trying (albeit quite out of tune) to play the opening guitar notes to a 70's hard rock classic called 'Radar Love' as his wife, Jennifer, walked into the room.

"Marty," her slightly tranked, spaced-out voice began. "Are you still trying to play that song? Dinner is-sh almost ready. Just another 12 seconds or so."

"Yeah, but I'm not in the mood, Jen. I'm not in the mood for anything, except kickin' Needles' ass like I should've done 30 years ago. Where am I gonna get a decent, good paying job at my age anyway?"

At least he can thank me for knocking out his missing tooth back when I was 14. In the original world, at least. Obviously it happened here too. I wonder if my other self already took care of that too.

"But, Marty. You can't do that. I'm sure he'll do something himself to get fired too. You can find another job, don't you think?" his wife said, still not totally sure of herself.

"You know what I gotta do? I gotta pay Doc a visit. I haven't seen him in awhile. Times like these I wish I still had that time machine of his," he said, before realizing his slip. Oh, shit! Nobody knows about those. Please, Jenny, I hope that went over your head. That'd be way too heavy duty for me to tell you about now.

"Time machine? Marty, are you all right? What's a time machine?" came her somewhat high-pitched and utterly confused reply.

"Sorry, hon. I was just kinda thinking what if there were. 'Cause, I'd like to use one now," he said, feeling like he did as a teen back in the old world, when he tried to get out of trouble. "I'm heading over there. Be back in a couple hours."

…..

18-year-old Marlene McFly impatiently paced in the upstairs hallways, waiting for her date to arrive. He called me on my video glasses half an hour ago. I know the hoverbuses are still running every ten minutes. He's not working today, so why isn't he here yet?

For the past few weeks, she had begun going out with 22-year-old William Herschel, a fellow worker at her JFK Drive Burger King. On the surface, they didn't have that much in common, besides being co-workers and being almost the same age. He was retro and liked the 80's and 90's. She was much more trendy. He was definitely cool, but nice and reserved. She was wilder and took risks. But, as an old 1980's song said, as well as Marlene herself: 'Opposites Attract'.

Marty Jr. came barreling up the stairs not looking where he was going.

"Hey, what are ya doing? There's nothing on TV and dinner is almost ready."

"There's more to life than TV, bojo. Billy is gonna be here any second. I know you and he have stuff in common, but try not to embarrass me in front of him for too long."

"O-kayyyyy, but maybe he'll help me talk to those girls I see in the Café 80's who always ignore me. He's the only one from school who goes there that I know of."

Just at that moment, the doorbell rang throughout the house.

"Door-bell is ring-ing," called the computerized voice, which Marty Sr. had just fixed himself that morning.

Lightly pushing her brother out of the way, Marlene dashed down the stairs, where the door was. "Yay. He's here," she joyfully called. Opening it up, the look quickly faded away.

"Oh, hello. Can I help you guys or something?" she said, suddenly disappointed and even mad that her date wasn't the person outside.

"Yeah, is there a Marin McFly Jr. here?" a dark-haired woman said. "My daughter found something of his and just wanted to bring it back."

"Oh yeah, let me go get him," Marlene said at least slightly warmly, walking back upstairs. "Martin, the door is for you. Some little girl found your school stuff," she said, now out of hearing range.

"Somebody's here for me! Yeah, okay, I'm comin'," he said, running down the stairs, two or three at a time to look cool.

Seeing how much of a goofball the teen looked like (a far cry from his dad 30 years before), Susan sighed and said, "I'm gonna go wait in the car. See you in a minute."

"Hey, cool, thanks for finding my-" he suddenly cut off and backed away a bit. "Oh no! How-how'd you find out where I lived?"

"It was on your school bag, bojo," the girl began, fairly commanding. "Now, my mom took away my Pit Bull, so I want you to get me another hoverboard since you don't' have my old one anymore," Brianna continued, clearly having fun bossing around an older person as if he were her child. She couldn't help but laugh at how wimpy he was to be afraid of someone her size.

"How long do I have, and, what happens if I don't? Are you gonna ground me," he asked, laughing, wondering if she'd give up. That was as close as he'd come to standing up for himself, unfortunately.

"What happens if you don't?" the preteen girl said, smirking. "How about this?" she said, charging the teen and made a move to kick him before purposely, yet barely missing.

Remembering what Spike had done the day before, he bolted up the stairs a bit, shrieking like a girl himself. "O-o-o-okay. Whatever you want, I'll get one now. W-what-what kind?" he said, even more nervous than when Griff accosted him. At least he considered himself to be friends in his own odd way with the foursome, but he was truly afraid of this pint-sized terror.

"Just something pink or girly, and something that works good. Remember, tomorrow, 2:30, okay?" she said, turning to leave, thankful that no one else in the house had seen this taking place.

"Yeah, okay," he said, retreating up the stairs at a normal walking pace. He mumbled to himself "Ever see Trixie in Problem Child 2?"

"What was that?!" Brianna asked.

"Umm, n-nothing. Just leave me alone, little girl! I-I mean big girl! I'll get your board tomorrow," he said, now upstairs and praying she'd just leave. Luckily, for him, she did.

The teen went back toward his room, only to notice his sister giggling uncontrollably in the background.

"Marlene. I didn't know you were watching that. What's so funny?"

"Sorry, I don't mean to, but that was so hard not to laugh at. You're so afraid of this 10-year-old girl like she's gonna win a fight against you or something. Why don't you just tell her to nump off?"

"Yeah, I know, but I-I can't."

"Look what Grandpa George did with Griff's gramps. Remember all those stories he told us from when he was our age, about how scared of the big-headed bojo he was? If he really did bonk him out like he says, you can say no to some girl who hasn't even gotten into Jr. High yet," his sister said, teasingly but truthfully.

Less than a few minutes later, the doorbell rang again. Marlene figured this had to have been her date. Rushing to the door and, this time, peeking out, she saw it indeed was.

"Oh, hey cutie," she said.

"Hey, what's goin' on?" he said casually. "Is it okay if I come in?"

"Well, I'm just about ready, but sure," she said. "My dad left, but everyone else is here."

Stepping in slowly, the young man was more revealed in the light. If a time traveler from the past had only ran into him while in 2015, they may not think the fashions were much different. He had long, Bon Jovi-ish hair (but slightly more tame) as well as ripped jeans and a T-shirt covered by a plaid shirt. In all honesty, he looked from the 80's (and talked like it too)! For the meantime, he sat on their couch and watched a bit of what was left of their scene screen.

At this moment, Jennifer came into the front living room area.

"Oh. Hi, Billy," she said, rather slowly, evidence she was still a bit tranked.

"Hey Jennifer. Nice to see ya," he said, before pausing and casually asking, "What happened to your guys' TV?"

"Oh, Marty doesh-doesn't wanna get-get it fixed 'cause the last guy who came in here. He thought the man called him a chicken. Did I say a chicken?" she asked out loud.

The guy just shrugged it off, having heard many times over about the older Marty's hatred of that word. "Maybe it just brings back bad memories, that's all. What's exactly wrong with it? I know a little about electronics. I could give it a gander."

"A gander? Oh yeah, a look. That's nice of you, but I don't really know-know how, fixable it is," the middle-aged woman said, again stumbling over her words.

"Okay, Bill, I'm ready. Are you?" called his date slightly anxiously from next to the front door.

"Sure, I'm comin'," he said. Turning back to his potential girlfriend's mother, he said, "We're going to 80's night at this club tonight. I'm obviously dressed for that," he said with a friendly laugh. "I'll see you shortly."

"Oh, okay. That sounds great. Have fun, kids!" Jennifer called.

…..

7:40 P.M.

Marty Sr. approached the Palm Tree Retirement Homes on JFK Drive, not far from the Lone Pine Mall, or where the scientist himself used to live in his garage. After marrying one of Marty's teachers at his Junior College, Laura Clayton, in 1990, he moved out of his former mansion's garage, where it was later torn down.

Entering the building through two automatic sliding-glass doors, the middle-aged man went up to the front desk.

"Yeah, Emmett Brown's room, please," he said into the automated system.

"Di-a-ling num-ber. One mo-ment," said the computerized voice.

Within a few seconds, the videophone rang in Brown's room and he picked up.

"Hello," came the raspy, yet aged voice.

"Hey, Doc, it's me," Marty said, a little unhappy. He, too, sounded a far cry from his younger, teenaged self.

"Marty. Nice of you to come here. What prompted you to stop by?" the ex-scientist said, a little closer sounding to the Doc he knew and loved.

"It's kind of a lot. Mind if I come to your room?"

"Certainly not. I'll be waiting patiently."

"Alright, be right in," Marty said, closing the connection.

He began walking through the somewhat busy housing center. It looked nothing like the retirement homes of his youth. Many of the seniors' wheelchairs were electronically powered, as were their health care devices. Every light in the place was an updated version of The Clapper; where all you had to do was say "On" or "Off" to do the action. There was a 60' flat screen projection TV in the recreational area, and even a collection of cool, older movies he liked. In fact, the TV station was even tuned to Dukes of Hazard at the moment, much to the enjoyment of "modern" senior citizens.

However, no matter how advanced technology became, there were still needs for human beings to take care of. He noticed a few orderlies walking around, more relaxed than he'd normally have seen in his time. One of them was causally chatting with the residents.

After turning left of the entrance and going up a staircase, he went down a large hallway for a few doors, before reaching Room #176. His friend had jovially pointed out, when he was admitted here, back in 2012, that this number was 88 x 2. Even at my age, I'd have never figured that out on my own, Doc!

Knocking briefly, he said, "Yo, Doc."

"It's open, come on in, Marty."

"Hey. Nice place. Sorry, I haven't stopped by for some time."

Doc turned up the lights in the room enough to clearly illuminate him. At 95 years old, his health was notably declining and he was walking and overall functioning slower than he had in the 1980's. He had not been rejuvenated, as was common in the modern-day among older people. There was still a bit of spark to him, though, especially when he was pushing a century old.

"Welcome in, Marty. Nice to see you," he said, as if it was 1983 and he was inviting the kid into his garage. Great Scott. He's still a kid to me, even though he's now 47 years of age.

"Yeah, you too."

"How's the family?"

"Not so good. Junior almost got in some trouble with Biff's idiot grandson, Griff, yesterday. Jen is always getting tranked. Marlene is going out with someone, who, although he's a really nice dude and likes a lot of my music and all, I just can't quite seem to like him. Worst of all, I got fired from my job last night!"

"Fired? What occurred to make that happen?"

"Me, that's what! I listened to that jerk, Needles. Then The Jitz comes on. He must've been monitoring it and Needles set me up. I know I was stupid to give in, but I can't help it when someone calls me 'Chicken.' Man, I just hate that!"

"It's been that way ever since I've known you. I realize you have a strong willed disliking to the word, partially because of your original father, but he no longer exists. You can't lose your temper over a word. Knowing Mr. Needles, he probably wanted to see if you'd pass his idiotic test. Why give him that satisfaction?"

"I don't know. I'll just start looking for other jobs in the morning," he said, not wanting to talk about his weakness anymore, before moving on to a new subject. "Speaking of my dad, you know what it's like having these mixed memories for the last 30 years? I mean, sure, at first I was gladder than hell that my loser family was replaced by people who actually got along, and parents that were cool. But, even now, someone will talk about something this other me did before 1985, and I'm totally lost."

"I myself, have to admit, I've wondered what my life was like where I didn't meet you in 1955. How different did certain events in my life transpire and what was the same? Therefore, as I've stated, I know it's not easy for you, Marty," Doc said, still, after more than 30 years (well, technically 60), ready to lend an ear to his friend's concerns.

"Yeah, I know all that, Doc. I just, ya know, I wish sometimes that I'd never made that trip, other than to save your life. Let mom and dad stay losers so I didn't screw up my life this way! I don't know, what if I just went back to 1955 now and stopped myself from saving dad from my grandpa's car?"

Doc suddenly jolted up, even more than he had been, as if to lecture his friend, like old times. "Jules has that ancient DeLorean time machine now," he said, referring to he and Laura's 24-year-old son, whom he had named after his favorite author, Jules Verne. "He's not as educated in time travel as I am, but even he would advise against that. I know how you feel. However, who is to say that something else catastrophic wouldn't have happened later in your original history?"

"I guess it could have, but it's worth a shot. From all I've told you through the years, and what you saw in 1955, how do you think 2015 from that world would be like? What about parallel universes? Maybe it's still around somewhere," he said. It was apparent that being around Doc so long was beginning to increase his 4th dimensional thinking!

"My views on time travel, suggested by all we know, including your family photo erasing in 1955 before your parents kissed lead me to believe there's only one universe at a time. However, whatever you do, please don't make unnecessary trips through time, such as this."

Getting desperate, he continued, "Come on, if it doesn't work out, I'll stop myself from coming across my 17-year-old self so we'll be back in this time."

"I haven't tampered with the space-time-continuum in that car in over 10 years, and even that was simply to make a small errand to the future. Please, do not attempt to muck around in time for your own benefit, Marty."

"I'm sorry, Doc. It's the only way."