Chapter 7
Saturday, February 1st, 1986
Hill Valley
10:04 A.M.
Doc quickly became the most famous person in Hill Valley. Every day, a stream of reporters would enter his room and pump him for information before the nurses made them leave. And every day, Doc answered as best he could, while the watchful eyes of the arms made sure that no reporter put an ugly slant on the events.
The arms. Doc was frankly stunned by how fast he had gotten used to their presence. It was like they had always been there, just waiting for a chance to speak to him. And, really, it was kind of nice to have them around. He enjoyed waking up to their gentle chorus of Good morning, Father. And having them nuzzle and play with him. And explaining to them the idiosyncrasies of humanity. They were so eager to learn from him, and so fast to learn as well. And they were always willing to try and serve him as best they could. Sometimes they could be a little overenthusiastic in their efforts, but Doc always forgave them. After all, they were still very young. It's certainly not the way I imagined getting a family, he thought, gazing up at the ceiling, but it'll do. It'll definitely do.
Verne looked out into the hall. No reporters today. That's odd.
They've probably found a new story to focus on by now. It has been five days since the accident.
Five days, four hours, thirty-seven minutes, and forty-two seconds, Jules confirmed.
I'm glad they're gone. I didn't like them, Tommy admitted. They were always trying to say mean things about you.
Emphasis on "trying," Albert added proudly.
Yes, and thank you for that, Doc thought, patting each of them. It's nice to have someone stick up for me -- besides Marty of course.
Speaking of whom, here he comes, Verne reported. Bearing food as usual.
More candy? I like candy, Tommy asked eagerly.
Looks like another bag of Doritos, actually.
Ooh, that's good too!
"Hey Verne," Marty greeted the tentacle as he reached the doorway. He too had adapted fairly fast to Doc's new "kids." Doc suspected it was because of their close friendship -- Marty had learned to expect anything of Doc. "I come bearing chips. What was breakfast like today?"
"Ugh," Doc said, making a face. "Some nutritious goo, as usual. Hand over the Doritos."
Marty tossed them into Doc's human hands. "Hey, Doc, the scuttlebutt is that you're getting released later today."
The tentacles nodded as Doc finished scarfing down a handful of chips. "Yes, I am," he said as he swallowed. "Other than the obvious, my injuries were actually quite similar to your own -- nothing truly life-threatening. They simply wanted to observe me for a few days, in light of the -- difficulties -- with my spine."
Marty frowned, his eyes shining with concern. "You can still walk okay and all that, right?"
"Yes, none of those functions were seriously impaired. Although I do walk slightly tipped forward now, from all the extra weight."
We're always willing to carry you, Father, Jules reminded him.
"I know you'd carry me, but I still need to do things for myself."
"Hey, constant free rides? I'd take them up on that," Marty grinned. The tentacles somehow managed to look smug. "Incidentally, has there been any more talk about -- you know, another operation?"
"Some, but we shut that line of thought down quickly. And we had an ally in my own doctor, surprisingly enough. Dr. Caldwell was opposed to the operation in the first place. He told me that he strongly suspected I would have been paralyzed from the waist down had they succeeded."
"Yipes." Marty shuddered. "I'm glad they stopped the doctors then."
"Us too." Doc ate another handful of chips. "So how are things at your house?"
"Besides the reporters bugging us, pretty normal," Marty said. "Einy's a lot less mopey now that we've surrounded his bed with clocks."
Doc laughed. "Good idea. I'm glad to hear he's feeling better."
"Me too. And I've become a minor celebrity at school too. Everybody wants to know about the 'Real Dr. Octopus.' Even my teachers have been bugging me about it." Marty smirked. "One even gave me detention just so he could talk to me about you."
Doc blushed. "Sorry about that."
"It's okay, Doc, not a problem." Marty grabbed his own handful of chips from the bag. "So when are you getting out?"
"Probably during visiting hours or some such," Doc said, nodding as a nurse came in to make sure everything was all right.
"Actually, Dr. Brown, we can release you as soon as your friend here brings you some proper clothes," the nurse said with a slight smirk.
"Oh, I see."
"Okay then, I'll bring some on over later today," Marty volunteered. "And I'll come pick you up too."
"Marty, you don't need to do that."
"I want to, Doc. Besides -- uh -- well--"
Doc nodded, sighing. "You don't need to beat around the bush, Marty. I'm aware of the fact that I can't drive anymore."
"Yeah, the tentacles would really get in the way, huh?"
"Not just that. I could probably figure out a way to fit them in the car. But--" Doc tapped his sunglasses. "I can't change the fact that I'm legally blind."
You don't need to drive. You have us now, Albert informed him.
We can take you anywhere a car would go, and at roughly the same speed, Jules nodded. We would be happy to do this for you.
"I know, I know."
"Another ride offer?" Marty guessed.
"Yes. They're explaining how they're equal to a car," Doc said. "I will admit, though, they make some good points. They'd certainly be more convenient than your average mode of transportation. Usable at any time, at any place. . ."
"Great way to escape more of those reporters," Marty pointed out.
Doc smirked while the tentacles buzzed -- their way of laughing. "Also an advantage."
Marty grinned back. "Well, I guess I'd better go grab your clothes so you can finally get out of here. I'll see you all in a bit."
"We'll see you shortly," Doc said as Marty got up. The tentacles waved goodbye.
Just as he was about to leave, though, Marty suddenly paused. He turned back toward the bed, a puzzled look on his face. "Hey, Doc?"
"Yes?"
"Uh -- How are you gonna wear a shirt?"
Saturday, February 1st
11:42 A.M.
Marty dumped a pile of clothes on the bed. "All freshly-picked from your closet."
"Thanks." The tentacles picked up the pieces, allowing Doc to examine them. Marty had grabbed his heavy black coat, a pair of khaki pants with multiple pockets, his orange sneakers, and a rainbow-striped button-down shirt. "I figured you had a better chance of getting that on, since it opened from the front," Marty explained as Doc looked up curiously. "Of course, you could always just go shirtless."
"I'm not entirely comfortable with that idea," Doc admitted. He examined the shirt. "Well kids?"
It would be a simple operation to tear four holes in the back, Jules concluded. Marty was very smart in choosing a shirt that opened from the front.
"I agree, excellent choice Marty," Doc said, undoing the buttons. "Mind giving us some privacy so we can change?"
"Only too glad to," Marty said, disappearing out the door. Doc smirked and pulled off his flimsy hospital gown. He slid on his pants, glad to see that the harness didn't pose too much of a problem for that. He then slipped the left sleeve of the shirt on and waited. A moment later, there was a loud tearing, and the tentacles emerged from the back. Doc pulled the other sleeve on, made sure the fabric wasn't caught on the harness, then started doing up the buttons again. "Perfect. Don't you think so?"
You look very nice, Father, Tommy said, nuzzling him. The other tentacles agreed, examining the clothes from all sides. Much better than the hospital gown.
"Much warmer too." Doc picked up his coat and let the tentacles do their thing. "Well, I guess we're ready to go. Are you excited?"
Very much so, Verne nodded. We want to see your home, and meet Einstein and all your friends.
Hopefully they'll all like us, Albert said worriedly.
"I'm sure they will," Doc said soothingly. "Marty will be there with us, and he likes us. He'll help bring everyone around if they don't." Doc patted Albert's pincers. "Everything's going to be just fine. I promise."
As they walked into the hall, Marty met them with a scowl. "Look out, Doc, they're back," he warned. "This time it's the guys from the local news channel."
"Those people the doctors turned away before?"
"Same ones."
News channel? Are we going to be on TV? Tommy seemed excited at that prospect.
Be quiet, Tommy, Albert scolded. Father doesn't want to be on TV.
Will they try to make you look bad, like some of the reporters did? asked Verne. Should we try to stop them if they do?
"The local news station is pretty fair," Doc replied, following Marty down the hall. "But if they do try to put a 'spin' on it, I don't want you to do anything. Asking the reporters to not portray me in a negative light is one thing. Asking cameramen not to is another. If it looks like you're attacking the camera, you'll do more damage to our reputation than they ever could."
We understand, Father. We will leave them alone.
"Good."
Doc and Marty emerged outside to find a crowd of reporters and cameramen waiting for them. They were promptly ambushed with questions from all sides. "Dr. Brown, is it true you murdered the Libyan terrorists who kidnaped you and Martin McFly?"
"Did your tentacles really attack the doctors when they tried to operate?"
"Why did you build the tentacles? Were you planning on this to happen?"
"Is it true that he talks to them, Mr. McFly? That he thinks they're alive?"
We are alive! Albert protested, rising up with a few annoyed chitters. The reporters moved back a little, but kept up the barrage of questions. "What's it like being Dr. Octopus now?" one yelled.
"Imagine having four small but very strong and curious children strapped to your back," Doc called back, prompting a round of laughter. "Look, I'll be happy to answer all of your questions, just one at a time, please!" The rest of the tentacles rose, nodding. The reporters fell silent. "Thank you. In regards to the Libyans, that was an accident. I'll admit to attacking them in self-defense, but I never meant to kill them. I had no idea that my chemical mixture would react in that manner to wood varnish."
Tommy moved a little closer to one of the reporters, opening his pincers a little to examine her microphone. He chittered into it curiously, jumping at the feedback. Doc laughed. "And yes, I do talk to them, but that's because they are alive. Since the accident, they've had access to my higher brain, so the Artificial Intelligence in them has had a chance to learn and evolve." Jules nudged him gently. "I was getting to that, yes. And they didn't attack the doctors. They went after the power tools. They simply didn't want to be removed."
"Why should we believe you?" one reporter asked rudely.
All four tentacles glared at him. Suddenly, Tommy opened his claw, stuck out his inner tentacle at the reporter, and buzzed it. Both Doc and Marty snorted in laughter. "I believe Tommy puts it best," Doc smirked at the startled reporter. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'd like to go home." He and Marty gently pushed their way through the crowd, down to Marty's truck. "Do you mind riding in the back, Doc?" Marty asked with an embarrassed blush.
"Not at all. It's fine, Marty. I know we'll never fit into the front cab." He and the tentacles climbed into the truck bed, Albert and Tommy fastening themselves onto either side as anchors. Jules and Verne waved goodbye to the reporters as they drove off. "Whew. I'm glad that's over with."
Us too, agreed the tentacles. Are we going home now?
First we're going to the McFlys to pick up Einstein -- we'll probably end up staying there for a little bit. Then yes, we will go home. Doc closed his eyes and let the wind rush through his hair. Does it ever feel good to be out of that hospital!
We know. It's much more colorful out here. Verne looked around eagerly. Look at the shiny icicles.
Our temperature readings indicate it is 39 degrees Fahrenheit, Jules reported. Is that warm enough for you, Father?
Don't worry, Jules, I'm doing just fine.
It was a 21-minute trip from the hospital to the McFly house. Doc spotted George, Lorraine, and Einstein outside, waiting for them. George and Lorraine were clearly gawking as Marty pulled in. "Hello, George, hello Lorraine," Doc grinned weakly as he and the tentacles climbed out.
George and Lorraine didn't respond. Einstein did, however, barking joyfully as he ran forward. The tentacles sensibly remained behind Doc as not to frighten the dog. "Einy! You miss me, boy?"
Einy certainly had, judging by home much he licked Doc's face. After reacquainting himself with his master, he whined in puzzlement at the tentacles. "It's okay, Einy," Doc said reassuringly, stroking his head. "Meet our new family. Jules, Verne, Albert, and Thomas." Each tentacle chittered softly at its name, slowing moving forward to meet the dog. Einy snuffled them all in turn, then whined again. "Well, you'd best get used to them, boy," Doc smiled. "They're not going away."
Jules turned took look at George and Lorraine. "Hello," George said, giving Jules a small wave. Jules waved back. "Marty's -- ah -- told us about you."
"Positive things, we hope," Doc said, getting back up.
Their expressions softened. "Well, he did tell us that the arms probably saved his life during that whole Libyan mess. That makes them okay in my book."
But we weren't really alive when we saved Marty, Verne said, puzzled.
They're just not making the distinction. It'll be hard for most people to accept that you're sentient beings now.
Many probably never will accept it, Albert said, sounding depressed.
Possibly. But if they leave us alone, why worry about it?
"Why don't you come inside, you must be freezing," Lorraine said, clearing the doorway. "I put a fresh pot of coffee on before you came."
"Thanks Lorraine. We appreciate it." Doc squeezed his tentacles through the doorway. The tentacles immediately began exploring, curious as always. It's so white, Verne commented, looking around the living room. It could use some color.
Where's Marty's room? I wanna see Marty's room, said Tommy, stretching out to his full length and looking down the hall.
Don't be rude, Tommy, we have other visitors, Albert gently chided. Sure enough, Jennifer Parker and the Pinheads -- Rick Nabors, J.J. Falls, and Spydo Castle -- were sitting on the McFly's couch, staring at him. "Hi," Doc said in greeting.
"Whoa," J.J. said. "Those things are freaky. Look at them move."
"They're just curious. So far, the only places they've seen in Hill Valley are the woods and the hospital."
"They? You really do talk to them and all that?" asked Rick. Like Doc, he wore sunglasses, but Doc could easily see how big his eyes were behind them.
"Yes. You have to understand, they talk back. They're not just machines anymore. They're thinking, feeling beings." The tentacles moved forward to get a better look at the Pinheads and Jennifer. "They consider themselves my children."
"Yeah, Marty told me," Jennifer said, reaching out a hand as Verne inched closer. "Sorry I didn't come and visit you in the hospital. Dad was being ultra-paranoid." Verne slipped under her hand for a pat. "They seem pretty gentle."
"Oh, they are. They can even be affectionate." As if to illustrate the point, Tommy curled lovingly around Doc's waist. "See? They're even capable of hugs."
Marty came in, followed by George and Lorraine. "Sorry, had to lock up the truck. So, what does everybody think? Cool, or what?"
"Honestly? This is the strangest thing I've ever seen," Rick said. "Not every day the comic books come to life."
"How do you think I feel?" Doc asked. "I've been kidnaped by terrorists, injured in a terrible accident, nearly blinded and paralyzed, and--"
A large clawful of snow fell onto his head. "And soaked by one of my tentacles," Doc said, looking at Tommy.
Wee! This stuff is fun! Come on, everyone, let's all play in the snow! Tommy laughed, going for another clawful of the white stuff.
Tommy! Now Father's all cold and wet! Verne scolded, chittering angrily. We're supposed to help Father, not soak him with snow!
Something's wrong with his AI, isn't there? Albert remarked, watching the melting snow run into the carpet.
"Hey! Don't you dare!" George yelled as Tommy came after him with some snow. The teenagers tried to hold in their laughter, to little avail. "Doc, control your -- tentacle!"
"Thomas, stop it!" Doc yelled, glaring. Tommy froze. "Put that down -- outside," he quickly added. "You don't go around dumping snow on people. I don't care how fun it is. You might hurt somebody."
Tommy visibly wilted. Yes, Father, he said in a small voice, putting the snow back. I'm sorry.
Doc sighed and patted him. "Well, I suppose I can't expect you to know right from wrong right away. But no dumping snow on people. That's wrong."
Yes Father. Tommy grabbed a dishcloth from the kitchen and attempted to try and dry Doc off. The teenagers started tittering again. "Here, let me get you a proper towel," Lorraine said, disappearing into the bathroom.
George approached cautiously. "That was weird," he admitted. "I'm not used to thinking of machines as being creatures with personalities and feelings. For a minute, I thought it was you, but I know you wouldn't do that to yourself. . . ."
"Me either, but I'm getting used to the idea fairly quickly" Doc said. "It's almost like they all took a certain facet of my own personality and exaggerated it. Jules here is the rational, analytical one. Verne's more creative. He's actually quite handy at doodling things." Verne looked pleased. "Tommy is the little kid in the group -- always seeking a good time. Albert is his antithesis -- very cynical and gloomy."
But we all love you, Verne said, rubbing against his cheek.
"I know." Doc patted the pincers. "And I love you too."
Lorraine returned with a pile of towels. The tentacles each grabbed one and set to work drying Doc off. "Thanks Lorraine," Doc said. "I'm sorry about soaking the rug."
"Don't worry about it," Lorraine said, waving it off. "Just water."
"Better than fire, at any rate," Marty said with a wink. Doc smirked at that.
You know, Father, we could turn off your sensation of cold if you want, Albert suggested as he rubbed Doc's legs. That way you wouldn't be quite as uncomfortable.
Doc shivered. I appreciate your reasons, Albert, but I'd much prefer it if you don't do anything to alter my brain chemistry. It makes me rather nervous to know that you could do that sort of thing.
We see. We do not want you to be afraid of us. We promise not to interfere with your mind.
Thank you.
J.J. suddenly reached out and poked Albert. He gave a puzzled chirp and gently poked back. "Weird. Are they -- uh -- heavy?" J.J. asked, looking uncomfortable.
"Well, yes, but not oppressively so. I can still walk and carry on normally, as you can see." He smiled reassuringly at J.J. "Don't worry. They don't bite. Really. They're perfectly friendly."
"Dr. Brown, we've heard the story about the doctors and the power tools."
That was self defense! Albert protested, screeching in annoyance. We didn't actually hurt any of the doctors. We simply didn't wish to be cut off. Why does no one understand that! Why will no one believe us!
Doc relayed this to J.J. The teen looked unconvinced. "Didn't you -- all of you -- admit to threatening them with a knife of some sort?"
"They were forced to threaten one of the doctors," Doc said a bit snappishly, as Albert obligingly showed off his blade. "And he happened to be coming after the kids with a chainsaw, so. . . ."
"You even call them your kids!"
Doc blushed while the tentacles made happy squeeing noises. "Well, they do call me Father. . . ."
"Right," J.J. said slowly, scooting away.
Jennifer rolled her eyes. "So -- now what?" she asked. "I mean, you really can't use them as tools if they can think and feel for themselves."
We don't mind assisting you in the laboratory, Father, Jules said. That is what we were designed for. To assist you. The other tentacles nodded in agreement.
"They say they don't mind assisting me in the lab -- which is good, because I could probably use the help." The tentacles buzzed in laughter again. "As for the rest of it, nothing to do but get used to having them there."
"I just hope the rest of Hill Valley can get used to them as well," Marty said, patting Verne. "Ten to one the police will be making regular visits to your house for the next few weeks simply because you're 'Dr. Octopus.'"
"I don't doubt it," Doc said bitterly. "They never trusted me as a normal human anyway. So now, with the kids. . . ."
"Hey, we'll always be there for you. Right guys?"
"Sure," Jennifer smiled. "Hell, I think it would actually be pretty cool to have something like this happen to you." She made a few faces at Tommy, who wiggled his tentacle at her.
"What, you want to be a mutant, Jennifer?" Rick teased.
"No, I understand what she means," George said, taking a seat. Lorraine collected the wet towels from the tentacles and disappeared again. "I always fantasized about having superpowers when I was a kid. Specifically, I wanted flight or super-speed." He blushed. "As you can probably guess, I was bullied a lot in my youth."
"So was I," Doc sympathized. "I would have given anything to get away from my tormentors faster. Or to somehow get revenge on them."
You have that now, Father, Albert said, clicking his pincers. We can stop anyone who tries to hurt you. We would help you get revenge, gladly.
Doc frowned at him. "I know you would, and I do appreciate the sentiment. But I don't want you hurting people, even if they hurt me. If we start doing that, we run a good risk of becoming the monster people accuse us of being."
The tentacles shuddered. We see. But what if it's to save our lives? Jules asked.
"That's a special extreme case, Jules. I don't want you using physical violence against anyone except as an absolute last resort. My life has to be in mortal danger before I'll authorize it. Do you understand?"
Yes, Father, they harmonized. Physical violence is to be used only in case of extreme emergency.
Lorraine returned and started pouring drinks for everyone. "I have to say, it's kind of annoying to only hear half the conversation," she admitted, handing out coffee to George and Doc. "And I imagine it's frustrating for you to constantly have to translate for them."
"A little," Doc said. "Maybe some sort of voice program for them could be my next project."
We'd like that, Tommy said happily. We don't particularly enjoy having to rely so exclusively on sign language. People are so prone to misinterpretations.
"Yes, I know," Doc nodded, patting the tentacles. "Simply because of the way you look, people are inclined to see you as threatening."
"Well, they aren't exactly pretty," Spydo pointed out, eyeing the pitted and scorched metal.
"I didn't mean for them to be pretty," Doc said defensively. "They were meant to be strong and precise. Which is what they are. Function over form." The tentacles nodded.
"Can you give a demonstration?" Rick challenged, interested. "Say, pick this couch up and throw it across the room?"
"Rick!" George and Lorraine said in unison.
Doc smiled. "Would you be satisfied if we just lifted the couch?" Rick frowned. "With you four still sitting on it?"
J.J. and Spydo looked at each other. "With us still on it?" J.J. echoed.
"We won't drop you, I promise." The tentacles nodded. "Would that be all right with you, Lorraine? George?"
"I suppose so, as long as you don't drop it and don't scratch it up," Lorraine said, twisting her hands nervously.
"We won't. None of you have anything to worry about." The tentacles extended and carefully wrapped their claws around each leg. With a slight movement of his back muscles, the couch was in the air. Jennifer squealed as the Pinheads looked around in amazement. "Whoa!"
"That is cool!" Marty said.
Doc stared, rather amazed himself. "Great Scott -- I don't even feel it. It's like I"m lifting nothing at all."
"You are lifting nothing at all," Rick pointed out, staring at the floor. "The tentacles are doing all the work."
"Good point."
It doesn't feel like much to us, either, Verne confided. Aren't we designed to lift three tons?
That's true. I'd forgotten in the excitement. "Okay kids, set 'em down," Doc said aloud. The tentacles obliged. "What do you think?"
"Wow," Rick said. "That's -- wow." Doc smirked.
"That was kinda scary," J.J. admitted. The tentacles clicked their pincers in apology.
Spydo tapped Verne. "Hey, Dr. B, can you feel stuff through them?"
"No, I can't. In fact, the whole region just above my spine has gone numb. I can't feel anything in that area anymore, thanks to the metal spine."
"Is your back okay?" Jennifer asked, concerned.
"If you mean, do I have trouble walking, no, I don't. But I have had a few problems with blistering and such -- probably a good thing that area's numb." He noticed the guilty look on Marty's face and frowned. "Oh no, don't start feeling guilty again. This wasn't your fault. I'm fine and you're fine. That's all that matters." The tentacles nodded and tried to hug Marty.
"I know, Doc, but--"
"No buts. It's all in the past. Don't worry about it."
Tommy accidentally brushed under Marty's armpit, sparking a giggle from the teen. The other tentacles, intrigued by this, began exploring this new spot. "Hey, stop it!" Marty laughed, trying to get away.
Fascinating, Jules said, tickling Marty again. Father, why does touching him in that spot trigger a laugh response?
"It's called tickling," Doc said, unable to keep the smile off his face.
"Oh, is that what they're trying to do?" Marty said, shooing Verne away. "You know, guys, Doc's awfully ticklish on his rib cage."
The tentacles promptly set about exploring Doc's ribs. "Oh no! Kids, I -- no--" Doc gasped as he dissolved into a fit of laughter. "Marty, you traitor. . . ."
"Why do I get the feeling life is going to get much more interesting?" George said, grinning at Doc's predicament.
"Tell me about it," Doc wheezed as the tentacles finally ceased their attack. "Great Scott. . . ."
You are all right, right Father? Tommy asked, peering down at him.
"Yes, I'm fine Tommy, just need to get my breath back," Doc said. He sat up straight again and adjusted his sunglasses. "Whew. I haven't been tickled like that since I was a little kid. Too bad I can't return the favor."
"They really are just like four little kids, huh?" George asked.
"For the most part, yes. I guess this means I'll finally get to see if I'd make a good father or not."
"I don't think that needs proving," Lorraine said kindly, perching on the arm of George's chair. "We can see it in the way you handle Marty."
Doc blushed. "Thank you, Lorraine. Thank you very much."
They continued chatting for a while, George and the Pinheads drilling Doc with questions about the arms. Doc did his best to answer them, while the tentacles explored the house some more. Finally, after finishing his coffee, Doc announced that he had best be going. "I want to go home and get a chance to sleep in my own bed," he admitted. "I miss being at home. And I'm sure Einstein does too." Einstein barked in agreement. "Thank you for the coffee, Lorraine -- and for being patient with the kids."
"You're welcome. It's good to have you back again, Doc. And it was nice meeting the -- kids." She awkwardly patted a tentacle. "Take care now."
"You too. Bye guys."
"See you later, Dr. Octopus," Rick grinned. "Don't go rob any banks now." The tentacles made disappointed sounds. "Aw, come on guys, I was only joking." He paused and blinked. "Jesus, you were right, Dr. B. You do get used to talking to them fast."
"Welcome to my world," Doc grinned. "I'll see you all later. Marty, do you mind if I bum another ride home?"
"Not at all. Come on."
"Thanks. Come along, Einy." The dog happily followed him outside and leapt into the back of Marty's truck at his urging. Doc got a firm grip on his pet, anchored himself in the back with the two lower tentacles again, and relaxed. "It'll be good to go home, huh boy? If I had stayed in that hospital one more day, I would have gone mad."
We didn't like it either, the tentacles agreed. There wasn't enough to do. Will we like home?
I think you will. At the very least, you'll have more to explore there. Doc scratched Einstein's head. And of course you'll have my experiments to play with as well.
Good.
They pulled up to Doc's place through the Burger King parking lot. Jules and Verne peered over the top of Marty's truck at the garage. It seems a bit small, Verne noted worriedly.
It's bigger than it looks, trust me. We'll all fit comfortably.
Marty grinned at them as they climbed out. "Welcome home, guys," he said, opening the door.
Doc allowed the tentacles to look inside first. Wow, said Tommy. It's MESSY.
"Don't start criticizing my housework," Doc laughed.
Jules did a 360 degree turn, making excited squealing noises. Look at all this equipment! Chemistry! Physics! And the inventions! Look at it!
"Okay, Jules, don't -- don't short out, buddy," Marty said, moving out of the way of the overexcited tentacle.
Father, what's that? Verne asked, pointing at his jukebox.
"It's a jukebox -- a device that plays music," Doc said, squeezing his way in. "Let me show you. Any suggestions for a record, Marty?"
"Johnny B. Goode," Marty said promptly, winking. Doc winked back and put in the appropriate record. Chuck Berry's classic tune filled the garage. The tentacles stayed still for a long moment, listening. Nice, Verne decided, bobbing to the beat.
Tommy grabbed a dish towel and shook it in front of Einstein. The dog promptly latched onto it, starting a tug-of-war. Albert began making the bed. Good thing we're here now to assist you. You appear to desperately need a housekeeper. Doc gave the tentacle a look.
Show me what the equipment does! Jules asked eagerly, poking around Doc's tools. Show me! Please, Father!
Verne stopped "dancing" and suddenly grabbed a pen and a spare piece of paper. He looked at the jukebox for a moment, then began sketching. Within minutes, a fairly accurate picture of the jukebox appeared. Marty whistled. "That's great."
"I know," Doc said proudly as Verne added some more detail. "Not entirely sure where he gets it from, though, considering that my own drawing talent isn't top notch."
"Hey, I think you can draw pretty damn well," Marty said. "Your technical drawings always look great. Better than what I can do."
"Even so. . . ."
PLEASE show me how the tools work, Jules begged, squeaking at Doc.
"Oh, all right," Doc smiled, going over to his tool box. "Verne, if you'd like to add some color to that picture, there's some markers on the third bookshelf to the left." Verne nodded and went to retrieve them.
Marty looked around. "I guess you've got everything settled. I'll leave you guys alone so you can get used to the place. Have fun, everybody."
"I'm sure we will. Goodbye Marty." He and the tentacles took a moment to hug the teen. "We'll see you in the future."
"Or in the past."
"That too. Goodbye."
"Bye." Marty disappeared out the door. Doc frowned after him, his stomach twisting a little. The tentacles hovered by him, worried. Father? Is everything all right?
"It's nothing," Doc assured them, banishing the feeling. "Must just be residual nervousness from our kidnaping."
The tentacles patted him comfortingly. He's safe, Father. And so are you.
"I know. I know." He turned back to the toolbox. "Now come on. I have a lot to teach you."
Saturday, February 1st
10:07 P.M.
"And finally, we have my varied test tube set. This concludes our tour of my chemistry set. Any questions?"
Yes. When do we get to use it?
Doc smirked. "As soon as I figure out what we can do with it. You're welcome to make suggestions, of course."
Albert curled around Doc, clacking his pincers. It's after 10 o'clock, Father. Do you wish to retire for the night?
Doc thought about it. "I don't feel all that tired, frankly, but I should get some sleep," he decided, walking over to his dresser. "By the way, Albert, you did an excellent job in straightening up the garage."
Thank you. Somebody had to do it. This place was a mess.
When did you become such a neat freak? asked Tommy, playing Tic-Tac-Toe with Verne on Doc's blackboard.
Our main priority is to serve Father. I did that by ensuring his safety in his home. Messes aren't safe.
I doubt Father would have dangerous messes, Verne said, puzzled.
"You never know. I once left my notes in a mess around a live Bunsen Burner," Doc admitted. "That's why I live in a garage instead of a mansion."
Albert looked smug. See? I'm doing a good thing.
Verne shrugged. Whatever helps Father. Tic-Tac-Toe, Tommy.
That's the third game in a row you've won! You're cheating!
Doc chuckled as he changed into his pajama bottoms. "Now, Tommy, how could Verne cheat?"
I don't know. He scans your brain for good Tic-Tac-Toe strategies.
That made Doc laugh out loud. "Well, that's certainly new," he grinned, unbuttoning his pajama top. "The usual drill, kids."
The tentacles tore through the fabric with ease. Doc slid the top on and started buttoning it up again. As he did, he gazed out the window. It was a clear night, the stars twinkling in the inky blackness of the sky. "It's beautiful out there tonight," he murmured.
Suddenly, a thought struck him. He grinned and looked over his shoulder at the tentacles. "You know, kids, I don't think I ever got the chance to properly test you. . . ."