Chapter 4
10:05 AM
Oct 28 1895
Rocky Flat California
"What did I just tell you?"
"Pumpkin and onions."
"What else?"
"Be back in fifteen minutes, and don't get dirty."
"Good. Now off with you: I need those things to make soup as soon as possible."
"Most certainly, Mom." Jules headed out of the door of his new home and into the fresh air and the streets of his new hometown. He was glad to get out, because the house was crowded with boxes and furniture, he was continually told to dust things, and Verne was being a pain due to lack of sleep. While the new house was greatly interesting, Jules needed a change.
Basket in hand, Jules walked past a collection of billboards that announced that he was nearing the centre of town. A team of horses pulled a cart of firewood down the dusty street. Several people were sweeping the fronts of their stores, and one man was paining a roof.
He passed a couple of children standing by the side of the greengrocer, and heard a little of their conversation.
"Go home and do it now, Annabelle," said a tough looking boy who was a little taller than Jules.
The golden haired girl named Annabelle replied, "Why should I?"
"Look, Annabelle. If I don't have my homework done this time, I'll get thrown outta school. You wouldn't want that to happen, would you Annabelle?"
The small girl shrugged. "Maybe I would, Stewart."
Stewart grabbed her by the shoulders and pushed her roughly against the wall of the store. "Don't give me any of your smart comments. If I get kicked out of school, it'll be your fault and I'll hold you responsible."
"You're the one who isn't doing his homework."
"Shut yer pretty mouth, girl. Just go and copy the answers out like the smart girl you are, and remember: don't tell anyone, and don't copy them wrong. Remember what happened last time."
Annabelle did not have any time to remember, because Jules called out, "Hello. I am new to this town. Is this the cheapest place to get pumpkins?"
"Don't know about that, but if you want any bruises, stick around."
"I might stick around, as you put it. But I think you had better leave Additionally, you should release that girl."
"Who do you think you are, talking to me like that.?"
"My parents named me Jules, but you can call me Jules. I gather you must be Stewart."
"Yeah, and you're history!" Stewart suddenly let go of Annabelle, who staggered backwards. He advanced toward Jules, throwing punches. Jules retreated backwards, faking a few swings. Stewart continued toward Jules, but Jules kept backing away. "Are you gonna fight me, or are you running away?"
Jules did not answerer. He just ducked under the low rail fence as if to flee. Then he flipped himself back over the fence, supporting himself with one hand. As he twisted in mid air, he swung his other hand from behind his back at a carefully calculated speed and angle. Just as his feet touched the ground, the vegetable basket contacted Stewart's chin. The boy crumpled onto the ground.
"Now don't you bully Annabelle, or anyone in this town ever again. If I see you so much as lay a finger on her..."
Stewart nodded feebly. Annabelle smiled brightly. She brushed down her dress and said, "This is my Dad's store, and he sells the best value pumpkins around here. The same goes for any other vegetable you could name. And I'm sure he'd throw in something extra, since you're new here. Need any onions?"
"Ah, ah, yes. I most certainly do."
"Well let's go and get them. We're not usually open on Sunday afternoons, but we can make an exception if you're new to town, and have nothing else to eat."
Jules nodded. "Thankyou. Let's see those pumpkins and onions."
10:19 AM
Oct 28 1895
Rocky Flat California
"Pumpkins and onions. Very good ones, too. How much were they?"
Jules handed his mother the change and a scribbled receipt.
Clara gasped as she read that the onions were free. "You certainly found the right grocer, Jules."
"I also met the grocer's daughter, Annabelle, and her, um, friend, Stewart."
"I would like you to help me cut and peel the pumpkin now. It should be a nice change from unpacking."
Jules stifled a groan. Peeling vegetables was not his ideal of lab work. He grabbed a peeler out of the box of utensils, and started attacking the nearest pumpkin.
7:50 PM
Oct 28 1895
Rocky Flat California
Verne licked the last trace of soup from his spoon and took his bowl to the basin to wash it. He was not particularly happy about having the same food for two meals in the same day. Not that he didn't like his mother's soup. In fact, it was quite delicious. But even the best of foods became dull after the fourth serving. He yawned softly as he stacked his newly dried bowl with a loud clink.
"Better get ready for bed right away," advised his father.
Verne nodded and asked, "Can I have a story?"
"Certainly, on the condition that you are in bed within five minutes. The same goes for Jules."
Both boys raced out of the room. Clara looked lovingly at her husband, saying, "You definitely know how to motivate those boys."
Emmett looked modest and said, "That is because they are boys. If we had daughters, I would be completely lost."
"Really, Emmett?"
"I believe so. The only experience I've had with children is with Marty, and when I met him, he was older than Jules is now. I only knew Jennifer for a few years, and not nearly as much as Marty. Besides, I was a boy once myself, believe it or not."
"I'm sure you would manage with daughters, if you had any. You've handled me for nearly ten years."
"I suppose you are correct. No, I know you are. You usually are right, actually."
"Only usually?"
"We'll there was that one time when I told you about time-travel, but that was as much my fault as yours. How about we see what our sons are up to?"
He was pleasantly surprised to find both boys snuggled in their own beds. He called Jules into Verne's room so everyone could talk together. "Before we have a story, how about both of you spend a minute telling me something you did today."
"I got to hang a clock myself," Verne began. "And I finished my picture from yesterday. I made it into a comet."
"You mean a comic, you idi..."
"Jules, don't speak like that. You can't expect your brother to know everything. Now apologise."
"Verne, I am truly sorry that I spoke badly of you and your intelligence."
"Uh, yeah, thanks, I mean, I forgive you. Yeah, so it's a comic. It's called "The Perils of Jules". You see, the train appears in the wrong place, and it's going to hit the wagon, and everyone jumps out. But Jules gets stuck. So the train crashes into the wagon, and it pushes it along really fast. And bits break, so Jules gets free. But he can't jump out, cos it's too fast. And it hits a bump, and that makes Jules go unconscience"
"You mean unconscious," Emmett corrected. "Jules, it's your tur..."
"And the bump makes the train crash into the ground in a ball of flame. And that makes the wagon start to burn. And Jules is still in it, and can't wake up. But the wagon crashes into the lake, and that puts out the fire. And Jules gets woken up, and has to swim out. But the lake is made of toxic pumpkin soup. And a whirlpool starts sucking it all down into the middle, so I run up finally, on a hoverboard, and I say, 'If you...'"
"Time up. Jules?"
"I went to buy pumpkins and onions. And I met a boy named Stewart, and a girl named Annabelle. Also, I tested the pumpkin soup to make sure it tasted like it was intended to taste."
"Very good, both of you. I would like a look at that comic in the morning. What story do you want?"
"Tell us about how you and Mom met," asked Verne.
Jules liked that story but he wanted a different on that night. "Didn't you tell us that particular story a mere week ago? Tell us about the dance instead."
"Yeah, the dance," agreed Verne.
"Let me think for a moment. Ah yes, Marty and I had just tested my plan for pushing the DeLorean with a steam locomotive. I believe I had just erroneously said, 'It couldn't be simpler," when Clara knocked on the door and called for me. Marty and I had to cover the DeLorean. Although if she had seen it, then..."
"Emmett, stick to what did happen. You don't want to change it, and it will make the story take too long."
"Quite so. We had just hidden the DeLorean, and Marty had concealed the model representing it, when Clara let herself in. I believe I said it was a surprise to see her, and when she wondered if she was interrupting anything, I just said we were doing a little model railroad. She took little notice of that, and asked me about repairing her telescope. I remember looking through the telescope, and the next thing I remember, was that Marty coughed. I don't really know why he did that."
I think we must have been gazing at one another for too long," Clara filled in.
"Yes, I do believe we were. I told her I would repair it right away and have it for her that night. But she said she wouldn't dream of having me work on her telescope during such an important event as the town festival, and asked me if I was panning on attending. I think Marty tried to say no, but I couldn't help but say, 'Of course, the festival...'. So she said she would see me there. We said our goodbyes, and I remember that after she left, Marty said, 'It's a nice telescope.' I must have had a funny look on my face, for him to say something like that.
"That evening, Marty and I were at the festival, watching the mayor start the clock. I started thinking about out how Marty and I were present when the clock stopped (not that it will happen for another sixty years, fifteen days, and two hours), and I said, 'Y'know Marty, in a way it's fitting that you and I are here to witness this.' Marty replied, saying, 'Too bad I didn't bring my camera.' Just then, we saw a flash, because a photographer was taking pictures of people beside the clock. We couldn't resist the opportunity. I told Marty the only problem was that we would never be able to show anybody. Marty just told me to smile, which is some of the best advice he ever gave me. The good thing is: I can show the picture to a few people."
He pulled out a thick folder. "I haven't put any of our photos back in their frames yet, so it should be in here."
"Is that the one of which you gave a copy to Marty?" asked Jules.
"Yes, that is the one. Ah, here it is." He pulled it out for all to see. But something was terribly wrong. The heads of both Emmett and Marty had all but vanished from the photograph. "Great Scott!"