Halloweenie
By Flaming Trails
A BTTF: PreTime Story
Disclaimer: I don't own BTTF. If I did, the dates mentioned in the trilogy would be national holidays.
Notes: Inspired by the question, "How come there is absolutely no mention of Halloween in BTTF?" The puking pumpkin comes from an extreme pumpkin-carving site, and the mention of Doc and Marty getting spooked by a trick-or-treater was an alternate idea I had.
Friday, October 25th, 1985
Hill Valley
7:20 P.M.
"And that's when I realized -- that I was going to spend the rest of my life with him."
Lorraine's surprisingly touching sentiment was promptly ruined by George laughing at "The Honeymooners." Marty and Linda both gave Lorraine a sideways look. Dad must have been one HELL of a good kisser, Marty thought.
George seemed to realize he had done something wrong and quieted down, going back to the "homework" Biff had given him. Lorraine sighed and took another drink. Marty decided to change the subject. "So, Dad, are we getting a pumpkin this weekend? Halloween's only five days away."
George fidgeted. "I don't know, Marty. None of the other neighbors have got their decorations up yet."
"So? You know everyone puts them up late. We'll be the first for once." Marty ate a few bites of vegetables. "Besides, I like carving the jack o'lantern. Jennifer and her dad have already got theirs, they're carving it on Sunday once they decide on a design."
"I don't want to upset anyone, Marty. The neighbors might get mad if we put our decorations up first. And what if our decorations scare some kids and they run home crying? I don't want to make any enemies."
"Dad, come on! I mean, I know there's not a lot of little kids around here to trick-or-treat anymore, but hell, I still like Halloween! I still dress up and all that! We should at least get a pumpkin."
George shrugged helplessly. "I'm just not the kind of person who likes to party. Marty, once you're my age, you'll realize that there's some things that are best left for kids."
"Doc still does Halloween," Marty said pointedly. "He had a heavy-duty jack o'lantern last year. He carved a puking pumpkin. It was great."
"That's gross," Linda complained, wrinkling her nose.
"No, it was hilarious," Marty grinned. "And he always buys a bag of candy, and he always wears a costume, even though almost no trick-or-treaters come to his house. Last year we ate about half the candy while watching horror flicks. It was great."
"Yeah, until you freaked out over that random trick-or-treater ringing the doorbell," Linda smirked.
"We were watching Children of the Corn! You'd freak too!"
"You hid behind the couch!"
"It seemed like a good idea at the time!" Marty turned to his mother. "Mom, don't you want to do Halloween?"
Lorraine shrugged and took another drink. "Like you said, there's not many trick-or-treaters around here anymore. Besides, I don't see how I could find the time to put up the decorations."
You're home all day Marty thought, annoyed. "I'd help. Wouldn't you help, Linda?"
Linda rolled her eyes. "Please. I have so much better things to do with my time. Halloween's a stupid kid holiday, anyway. All it is is an excuse to eat candy."
George looked vindicated -- or as vindicated as a perpetually frightened nerd could look. "Look, Marty, there's just some things you grow out of. We all loved Halloween as kids, but now -- well, it's not worth the aggravation."
Marty scowled down at his plate. "Fine. But don't expect me to hang around here on the 31st. I'm sure Doc will have something going on once he gets back." He got up. "I'd better go call Jennifer, let her know I didn't forget her."
"Aren't you going to stay for the cake?" Lorraine asked, pushing it towards him.
"No. I'm not really that hungry." With a last dirty look at his father, Marty headed down the hall. Damn it, how the hell did I end up with such a family of losers? Just because you grow up doesn't mean you just forget about stuff like Halloween. I know plenty of guys whose parents still put up decorations and host costume parties! And that's not even counting the usual stuff they do, like Dad letting Biff wreck the car. . .damn, what the hell am I going to tell Jennifer? Maybe I should talk to Dave tomorrow, see if he'll let me borrow his car. Marty entered his room and plopped down on the bed. Oh well. They're my family, and I love them and all, but they drive me crazy sometimes! At least I know Doc will have something cool for Halloween -- if he shows up in time. Sighing, Marty reached for the phone.
Sunday, October 27th, 1985
Hill Valley
6:45 P.M.
Marty opened the front door. "Yo, guys, I'm home."
George grinned at him. "Great! You're just in time to help carve the pumpkin."
Marty paused, partway down the hall. "Pumpkin?" he repeated disbelievingly.
"Yeah, I just picked it up today. Halloween's this Thursday, you know, and we have to be prepared -- and encourage everyone else to put up their decorations."
Marty turned and looked at his father strangely. "Didn't -- didn't you say that 'there's some things you just grow out of' when I asked you about this on Friday?"
George frowned at Marty, puzzled. "No. Where did you get the idea that I said that?"
"I -- nothing. Never mind." Marty came over. "So, what are we carving?"
George grinned again. "Well, I'm not sure yet. That's why I was waiting for you, because I know you love doing this. Do you have any ideas?"
Marty thought for a long moment. Then a small smile appeared on his face. "Think you could manage a flying steam train, Dad?"
"A flying steam train? Where the heck did you come up with that?"
"Doc kinda suggested it to me."
"Ohh, I see. Are you going over to his place for Halloween again?"
Marty's smile vanished. "I dunno. He's got this thing with a woman going on, and -- and I don't think he's gonna be home in time."
"Oh." George patted him on the shoulder. "Well then, you can hang out with me on Halloween. We'll do just what you and Doc do, stuff ourselves with candy and watch horror flicks all night."
Marty couldn't help but laugh. "Thanks Dad. So, are you gonna do the steam train?"
"Sure, although I hope you're not expecting anything too fancy."
"Nah. Whatever you do is fine." Marty grinned at him. "I love you, Dad."
"I love you too, son. Now hand me that knife so we can give Jack here his lobotomy."
The End