Part 3

Tuesday, November 15th, 1955

Hill Valley

4:03 P. M.

Doc Brown entered Lou's Cafe, shivering. "Great Scott, it's cold! And the precipitation doesn't help any." He looked at Lou, who was grumbling about one of the customers. "May I have a cup of coffee?"

"Sure. Cream and two sugars, right?"

"Precisely." Doc dug around in his pocket for a nickel while Lou prepared the requested drink. Suddenly, he frowned and extracted his hand. Caught in his fingers were several pieces of paper. Now that's odd, Doc thought, examining them. Why would I put paper in one of my coat pockets?

Lou returned with the cup of coffee. "That'll be five cents, Brown. What's with the paper?"

"Damned if I know." Doc retrieved a nickel and handed it to Lou, then continued studying the papers. One of them had the address of the cafe on it. Another contained the year "1985." Marty's letter! Doc realized with a jolt, flashing back to that fateful night three days ago. I thought I had scattered this to the four winds. I must have accidentally shoved the pieces in my pocket when that branch fell on the cable. He shook his head with a frown. No man should know too much about his own destiny. I've learned far too much about the future already. What with Marty suddenly showing up again, right after I sent him back to the future, and my 1985 self trapped in 1885, about to die. . . . I should just throw these away and forget about them. Or, better yet, make Marty take them back.

He stuck the pieces back in his pocket and sipped his coffee. He knew that he should be back at the lab, working on the time machine, but he had needed a break from the constant fiddling with vacuum tubes and wires. Marty had understood completely. "I know you'll get it, Doc," he had said, in an amazing display of faith. "You always do. Plus, it's a time machine, we've got all the time we want to save you."

Marty. Doc smiled. Although he had been absolutely shocked -- to the point of fainting -- when the teenager had returned, he was actually kind of glad he was back. He had so little contact with others lately, so it was nice to have another human presence around. He seemed to make the mansion smaller and less lonely. The kid had made a huge difference in his life. Now I know I'm going to invent a successful time machine. A somewhat too successful time machine, based on what Marty told me about Biff. My older self probably was thinking about that when he told Marty to destroy the DeLorean. Well, I'm sure it can be destroyed once Marty rescues my older self from a premature death in the past!

I wonder what else happens to me in the future. Do I have any other successful inventions? What other ages do I get to visit? Do I fall in love, get married? Well, probably not get married -- after all, there is the matter of "beloved Clara" on my older self's --Doc took a moment to shudder -- tombstone. Although I suppose it's not incomprehensible that I could be married, but being stuck in the past, I relented to the temptation to cheat. But I'd like to think I'm better than that.

The only thing I know for certain is that I'm going to have a best friend. Imagine that, a best friend. I wonder if he knows how much he means to me. Doc smiled to himself. I've known him for little over a week, and won't meet him properly for many years, and already I have such warm feelings for him. He frowned down at his pocket. So why did he feel the need to mess with the future, after all my warnings?

He finished off his coffee. "And a hot chocolate for my nephew back at the mansion, please," he told Lou as the owner wandered back over. Lou grunted his assent and started preparing it.

"Hey, Dr. Brown, how is Marty?" George's voice asked. Doc turned to see that George and Lorraine had come in while he was preoccupied. "We thought he was leaving to go back east."

"Some transportation issues came up," Doc explained. "He has to stay with me for a couple more days."

"Tell him we said hello," Lorraine said with a smile. "And not to be such a stranger. George and I owe him a lot." She and George looked at each other affectionately.

"I'll pass it on," Doc promised. He took the hot chocolate from Lou and headed out the door, narrowly avoiding Biff Tannen and his gang as they walked in. The gang made sure to give him a dirty look as he passed. "Yeah, you get out of here, you crackpot!" Biff yelled after him.

Doc rolled his eyes, ignoring the bully. He knew Biff was more talk than action lately -- George's punch had taken a lot of the fight out of him. But he also knew that Biff was inherently dangerous. He remembered Marty's description of "Hell Valley" and shuddered. Thank God Marty and my other self were able to get the Almanac off of him. Someone like him shouldn't be allowed to wield power. Thank you George for decking him and putting him in his place. And thank you again Marty for inadvertently setting up that situation, Doc thought, getting behind the wheel and driving away.

He arrived home to find Marty outside, playing a game of fetch with Copernicus. The teen grinned as Doc parked outside his garage. "Hey Doc. Feeling better?" he asked.

"Yes. I saw George and Lorraine at the cafe, they send their greetings." Marty nodded. "I also have some things for you. A hot chocolate--" he passed the drink over to Marty, who looked grateful "-- and this." He pressed the pieces of letter into the teen's hand.

Marty frowned down at the scraps for a moment, then recognized them. His eyes went wide. "NO, Doc," he said firmly, handing the pieces back. "You have to keep 'em. You have to tape this thing back up."

"What? Marty, you know full well my stance on knowing about my own future. It's extremely dangerous!"

"What about what we're doing right now, fixing the DeLorean so I can go back in time and stop you from dying?"

"That's different. That's an unnatural death and could have repercussions on the future. After all, I'm not supposed to be in the past in the first place, dead or alive."

Marty stared at him intensely. "Doc, it isn't different," he said quietly. "Please, if you don't read this letter, we might have one of those paradox things on our hands. And if that doesn't happen, you're going to mess up my life. You have to read this."

Doc stared at him. There was something in Marty's eyes that he really hadn't seen before. Fear. He really wants me to read this damn thing. But why? What's he afraid of?

His thoughts went to the tape Marty had shown him on his first day in 1955. The ending of the film had quite disturbed Doc. His older self had seemed very scared for some reason. His voice and eyes gave it all away. But what was he scared of? Did the letter have something to do with it? Was Marty trying to prevent something in the future from happening?

Come to think of it, Marty had been acting abnormally all week. He had always excused himself, if possible, from further viewings of the tape. And on the night of the dance, he had said some rather cryptic things. "I'm really going to miss you too." How could Marty miss him if he was going back to the future? He was still living in the future.

Right?

Marty had been trying to warn him about the future all week. Even nearly missing his ride while trying to shout a message to him on the clock tower. And that hug he had given him right before his intended departure. It had felt -- sad. Like this was the last time Marty would ever get to see him. At the time, Doc had chalked it up to apprehension over the possible failure of the time machine to send him home. But now. . . . Did Marty mean Iwas dead in the future?

That didn't make sense either. If he had died in the future, how could he be about to die in the past? Could the him in the past be a slightly younger him than the one whom Marty was worried about? It was enough to make your head spin.

He brought his attention back to Marty. The teen was still staring at him, looking quite frightened. "Marty," he said softly, "did I read this letter before you and my older self came back?"

Marty nodded. "It's important, Doc. Your older self knows that."

That settled it. "All right, I'll read it. But I'm destroying it immediately afterward," he told the teen firmly.

Marty smiled, looking rather smug for some reason. "Great. I'll grab some tape."

"You want me to read it right now?"

"Yeah."

"I was thinking of waiting until we finished our repair work on the DeLorean. We can't afford to waste time with that."

Marty's smile did a flip-flop. "For this we can. I'll even help you out."

Doc sighed, realizing Marty wasn't going to stop bugging him until he read it. "Fine. Get some tape." He walked over to a table and carefully spread out the pieces.

Putting the letter back together was tedious work, even with Marty's help. Doc was tempted to quit a couple of times, but Marty always pulled him back. He supposed that if he really was supposed to read the letter, he might as well just get it over with.

Finally, it was done. Doc picked up the completed document, giving Marty a look before he read it.

Dear Dr. Brown,

On the night I go back in time, you will be shot by terrorists. Please take whatever precautions are necessary to prevent this terrible disaster.

Your friend,

Marty

Doc stared at the letter. Shot? By terrorists? Why? And for what? Did it have to do with the time machine?

He looked over at Marty, who was looking over his shoulder. "Terrorists?" he whispered.

Marty nodded, grimacing. "You do some really dumb things in the future, Doc."

"I should say." Doc picked up the letter with trembling hands. And to think he had been determined to destroy it! Not now. He'd keep that letter to 1985, and probably beyond, as a reminder of the friend who had risked the future for his life. As for the questions, they would be answered in due time. He didn't dare ask Marty for fear of somehow disrupting the time-line. He just had to make sure he was ready for the terrorists, and all would stay on track. Maybe they made bullet-proof clothing in the future.

Reverently, he folded the letter and put it in his pocket. Then he turned to Marty and gave him a hug. "Thank you."

"Thank you," Marty said, squeezing back. "I didn't even think that coming back might screw up that."

"Understandable. You've had a lot of other things on your mind. Good thing you pushed me into reading it. We really could have had a paradox on our hands." He frowned, a final question occurring to him. "I must admit, I'm at a loss as to how to explain my reversal to your own younger self, when he arrives in 1985. You know how much of a stickler I am to doctrine."

Marty grinned. "Just tell him, 'what the hell.' I know you're a human being Doc, I'll understand. Hell, I'll be grateful."

Doc nodded. "All right, back to work on the DeLorean. No point in saving me from the first death only to die a second." Marty nodded, becoming serious. "Hand me that screwdriver over there."

The End