Chapter Two
Doc's Side of the Story
Doc watched from his bird's eye seat in the DeLorean as Marty burned the sports almanac as per his instructions. He couldn't wait until the troublesome object was out of their lives for good. Knowing that the book could never again fall into the wrong hands was a great relief to Doc. He, for one, never wanted to again experience such a Hell as 1985A.
Doc's body continued to pilot the DeLorean, trying to avoid the lightening that flashed all around him, but his mind was lost in thought. The ordeal they had been through to get the almanac out of Biff's hands had only strengthened Doc's conviction that the time machine must be destroyed once he and Marty returned home. Doc felt like a fool for even thinking that the world was ready to utilize time travel. Marty's recklessness in buying the almanac had proved to Doc that humankind was not ready to handle such a profound responsibility.
"Don't be a hypocrite, Brown. This mess was six of one and a half dozen of the other," he chided himself for the umpteenth time. "Marty only acted on thoughts that you voiced intent of doing yourself. If you hadn't planted the seeds of gambling in his head by wanting to use time travel to bet on the World Series and gain substantial wealth, then Marty would not have been inclined to buy that almanac to do the same."
Marty's voice emanated from Doc's walkie talkie, breaking Doc from his reverie. "Doc! Doc, the newspaper changed! Doc, my father's alive! That means that everything's back to normal, right?"
Doc grabbed the newspaper from where it lay on the passenger seat and watched triumphantly as the image of him in a straight jacket about to be committed morphed into an image of him receiving some kind of an award. This mess was over.
"Mission accomplished," he whispered.
"That means Jennifer's okay and Einie's okay, right?" Marty voice exclaimed through the static.
"That's right, Marty," Doc answered reassuringly, yelling over the lightning storm that crackled and boomed just outside the flying DeLorean. "It's the ripple effect! The future is back! Now, let's go home!" The thought of home had never sounded so good. Doc never thought he would be so eager to return to his mundane life in 1985 and that dilapidated garage. This weekend had forever cured his yearning to see what mysteries the space-time continuum held. He would now be content to be at home and appreciate what he had there.
"Right, Doc. Let's get our asses back to the fut--!"
At that moment, a bolt of lightning ripped close by him, striking a tree on the ground. The close call shaved about ten years off Doc's life expectancy. He clutched his heart as his walkie talkie crackled to life.
"Doc! Doc, are you okay?" Marty's voice yelled.
With a shaky hand, Doc picked up the walkie talkie and pressed the "Talk" button. "That was a close one, Marty," Doc said, his nerves still on edge. "I almost bought the farm." Doc dropped the walkie talkie on the passenger seat and returned his full attention to steering the DeLorean away from the plenitude of lightning bolts in the sky. His daydreaming had nearly done him in.
As if his friend could read his thoughts he heard Marty's voice emanate from the walkie talkie. "Well, be careful! You don't want to get struck by lightning!"
No sooner had Doc heard Marty say the words, than he was enveloped in the brilliant white of a lightning bolt. Doc could feel the DeLorean begin to fishtail and realized that the hover circuits must have been fried, the terror of which was only overridden by the panic that the time circuits had been activated. He was helpless as the lightning engulfed him, zapping to the time that his short-circuiting time circuits had randomly picked. A brief glance at the time circuits told him that he would get to realize his dream of seeing the Old West, after all. He chuckled ruefully. He figured that he had about two seconds of viewing time before the DeLorean would nosedive to the ground. Whether or not he would live through the experience was another matter.
His last thought was of Marty. Somehow, he would have to help his young friend get home. He couldn't leave Marty stranded in 1955.
Doc felt despair as he was ripped through the space-time continuum. The lightening ripped away his friend and his own hope of returning home in a flash.
