Chapter 5

Friday, September 2nd

4:07 P.M.

The foursome watched the adults leave. Marty shook his head. "Uh -- not to be rude, but I don't think 'particular' is the right word for your father."

"It sounds better than 'paranoid,'" Emily admitted. "I'm sorry you had to see him that way. We should have warned you earlier."

Holly patted him on the back. "Don't take any of it personally, Marty. He hates anybody who likes science or who works with it. I think he considers it a form of witchcraft -- which he also hates."

Emmett sighed. "It wouldn't be so bad if he didn't constantly try to stifle my ambitions. He keeps telling me I have to become a vet like him, or else something equally non-threatening. I hate it."

Emily hugged her brother. "I do too. Holly and I know you're an excellent scientist. You should be allowed to follow your dream."

"Yeah, I agree," Marty nodded. He felt really bad for Emmett. The poor guy apparently really did have no friends apart from his sister and Holly. Marty had always thought Doc had been exaggerating on that point. And he had that nutcase of a father to deal with. I can't believe anyone's life could suck this much. Makes you wonder how Doc turned out so well. "If you're good at something, you should do it."

Emmett smiled weakly. "Thanks everyone. We'd better get to another part of the house -- Father always need a little time to cool down after one of his outbursts."

"You also need to start working on that," Holly pointed out, motioning to the busted walkie talkie.

"My room it is, then. Come on." Emmett led the way through the living room, up the stairs, and down the upper hallway. Marty did his best to look lost as he followed the familiar path. "That's my room," Emily said, pointing to the first door they passed upstairs. Marty glanced in to see quite a bit of pink. "Mother and Father's room is down at the end of the hall."

Marty nodded as they entered Emmett's room. The walls were done in dark wood paneling and the floor in rich red carpet, much like the downstairs rooms. However, Emmett had definitely made the room his own. Everything about it just screamed scientist. There was a bookcase against the far wall, and books scattered liberally about the room. Joining them were a number of completed and partially-completed inventions. Various technical drawings were tacked onto the walls, showcasing the inventions in progress. The bed was made but very rumpled-looking, and next to it was an absurdly huge pile of laundry and other miscellaneous junk. Next to the door was a desk completely taken up by a chemistry set and small Bunsen burner. The chair had yet more books piled on it. Emmett set the remains of the walkie-talkie on the pile and picked up a vial of yellow liquid. "Do you mind if I attend to this first?" he asked Marty, nodding toward the chemistry set.

"Go ahead," Marty said. "Your dad lets you keep all this out in the open?"

"This is a recent development," Emmett admitted, pouring the liquid into a beaker. "I used to have to hide it all. Mother interceded for me about two months ago." He carefully suspended it over a low flame and watched it for a moment. "I always have to keep the door closed though, to avoid any comments."

"I see." Marty looked at the beaker as well. "So what's that stuff for?"

"It's allergy medication," Emmett explained, adding a spoonful of green powder to the beak as it began to simmer. "I suffer from a few rather unfortunate ones, such as sensitivity to certain fabrics, occasional nasty hay fever, and -- well, I'm not sure if it's a true allergy or some other medical issue, but I react rather badly to alcohol. I'm hoping this mixture will lessen their effects. The first two anyway, I don't care so much about the alcohol problem."

"I thought Darla – the maid -- didn't want you doing experiments in your room anymore," Holly commented.

"Like your mother doesn't want you mixing potions in yours?" Emmett countered.

"I picked up that bad habit from you."

Marty smirked. "You two bicker like an old married couple."

"We get that a lot," Holly admitted. "I think half of my class thinks I'm in love with him."

"Kids in my classes could care less," Emmett said, turning the heat down a bit. "Which is good -- the last thing I need are 'ladies man' jokes." He glanced at Marty. "Besides, Holly and I are more like sister and brother than anything else."

Marty nodded. I bet -- but I'd still rather see you with Holly than with Lucy.

Looking around the room again, he noticed a new detail. What he had previously taken for a huge pile of laundry was in fact a second bed covered in laundry. Marty frowned, puzzled. "Hey, Emmett? Why do you have two beds?"

Emmett's body suddenly went rigid. "It was my brother's," he said in a controlled voice. "He moved out a few months ago."

"Oh," Marty said, feeling uneasy. Everything about Emmett's body posture said he didn't want to talk about it. But at the same time, he was absolutely stunned. Doc has a brother too! I don't believe it! Why would Doc never tell me that he had a brother? Even if they didn't get along, you think it would come up at some point. He told me about his sister shortly after we met! Why wouldn't he tell me about his brother? What other secrets has Doc been hiding from me? Damn it, I want answers! But I can't talk to this Doc about it, either, shit. . . . He finally just shrugged. "Sorry if I hit a nerve. Just curious."

Emmett relaxed again and added two drops of a blue liquid to his beaker. "It's okay. I just don't like to talk about him."

"Emmett and Jack never got along," Emily said, with a hint of sadness.

"I don't blame him," Holly said with a shudder. "I got some frightening feelings from Jack. I'm glad he's gone."

"I am too. Mother doesn't like me using his bed as a hamper, but I'd rather listen to her lectures then look at the bed. Too many bad memories." Emmett watched as the liquid inside the beaker turned a strange bright blue-green color. "Perfect." He turned off the heat. "I'll just let that sit for a little while to cool, then I'll test it. In the meantime--"

"Are you sure that concoction's safe?" Marty asked, unable to help himself. "It doesn't look all that healthy."

Emmett smiled reassuringly. "Yes, I'm sure. All the ingredients are safe for human consumption, and I've tested a variation on the mixture before. It seemed to work, but I suffered from recurring bouts of hiccups for a week. Hopefully the adjustments I've made will prevent that from occurring. It's all safe, Marty, I promise. I certainly wouldn't try to poison myself, right?"

Marty blushed a little. "Good point. I'm sorry, Emmett, I didn't mean to question you like that. I just didn't want you getting hurt."

"I know you didn't. Thanks for your concern, but I assure you, everything's under control." Emmett picked up the walkie-talkie. "Now, as for your device -- it's certainly been dealt some severe damage, no point in lying about that. I don't think I'll be able to repair it in full, considering the damage and how advanced the device itself is. But I do think I can devise something that will allow for communication through it again."

"If anyone can do it, it's you, Emmett," Holly said encouragingly. "He's great at this sort of thing, Marty. He built a radio out of a toaster once."

"Terrible reception, unfortunately," Emmett said, poking cautiously at the exposed wires. "1080 FM was the perfect setting for an English muffin, though."

Marty laughed. Oh yeah. That's classic Doc, right there. "Let's see what you can do, then."

"Watch and learn." Emmett fussed around with the innards a little more, then pulled open a drawer in his desk and started rummaging around inside. "Let's see, I'm going to need some wire -- see what I can tie back together -- and some conducive materials. . . ."

Marty watched as Emmett began connecting pieces of wire and metal to the inner workings of the walkie-talkie. Even though he didn't have a clue as to what Emmett was doing, it was still fascinating to watch him work. Some things never change, he thought with a small smile.

After a few long minutes, Emmett finished. "There. We should be able to get something from this now, even if it's just static." He looked up at Marty. "Ready to test?"

Marty glanced around. He would have preferred to test Emmett's repair job more privately, but it appeared he had no choice. Both Emily and Holly were leaning in, eager to see what would happen. Hoping they wouldn't recognize Doc's voice, Marty nodded. "Good," Emmett said. "I"m going to depress this tab of metal here. That should restore the circuit loop and allow for the radio signals to get through. Just talk into the speaker and see if anyone responds."

"Gotcha." Marty sat down by Emmett as he pushed the piece of metal in. The device promptly began to crackle. "Hello?" Marty called into it, crossing his fingers. "Hello?"

Sunday, April 6th, 1986

Hill Valley

3:57 P.M.

Doc glared at the tangle of wires behind the flux capacitor. He'd been working on this problem for nearly an hour, and still no results! Anything could have happened to Marty as he toiled away here. He could have been seriously hurt, or forced into interacting with his relatives again, or anything else for that matter. It was all very frustrating. I just wish I knew that he was all right!

Right on cue, the time talkie sprang back to life with a surprisingly loud burst of static. "--lo? Hel--" was faintly identifiable.

Doc raced for the device, nearly tripping over his own feet, and snatched it up. "Marty! Marty, are you there! Over!"

A moment later, Marty's fragmented voice replied. "Ye -- mfine -- u?"

Doc took this to mean, "Yeah, I'm fine. You?" I wonder how much of my first message he heard. I'll need to compensate for the deficiencies in the receiver. He spoke as slowly and clearly as possible, pausing between each word. "I'm fine. The DeLorean is temporarily out of commission, I'm afraid. Where are you?"

On the other side in 1938, Doc's reply was a lot clearer than his first message. "I'm -- ne. Th -- Lorean – temporar – of commiss – Where -- you?"

Emily snorted. "Maybe it's just all the static, but he sounds a bit like you, Emmett."

"I noticed that too," Holly said with a grin. "Does Emmett remind you of your employer, Marty?"

Don't laugh, McFly! "Yeah, he kinda does," Marty said, struggling to keep a straight face.

"I see. That probably explains why I felt you and Emmett should know each other."

"Probably," Marty nodded, relieved.

"What's a Lorean?" Emmett asked, glowing with pride.

"It's what he calls his car -- he's made some modifications to that too. I guess something happened to it." Marty scowled to himself. "Figures. I'm at the Brown Mansion, Doc," he said into the speaker.

"Brow -- mans -- oc," came through on Doc's side. Doc felt his stomach twist. Brown Mansion? What was Marty doing there, of all places? Didn't he know to --

Oh, wait. He himself had dragged Marty there, out of a combination of fascination over Marty's mysterious device, guilt over the device being broken, and loneliness. Strange though -- he didn't remember Marty staying for that long. . . . I'll have to examine this phenomenon in more depth later. Right now, I just have to reassure Marty that I'm okay and that I'll be there as soon as I'm able. "I'll try to be there as quickly as humanly possible. In the meantime, be careful."

"--tcha, Doc. -- et me -- ou can--"

"I'll be there before the night is out," Doc promised him. "Over and out, Marty." He cut contact and sat down. Great Scott. This could have some very serious repercussions on the space-time continuum. If only my younger self hadn't acted so irrationally! Although I can understand why he did -- my younger years were far from the happiest in my life. Especially the day Marty's stuck in. . . . Doc grimaced. Great Scott, I hope I get there before he has to witness the monstrosity that is the night of September 2nd, 1938. I suppose all I can hope for is that Marty does his best to stay out of any events he might accidentally be involved in. Right now, I need to focus on getting him back into his proper time period. Sighing, he set back to work on the DeLorean.

Friday, September 2nd

4:18 P.M.

Marty sighed as Doc signed off with an "Ov -- d out." "Well, at least I know he's okay now."

"Even if he apparently can't come and get you right away," Emily nodded. "That won't be a problem, will it?"

"I don't think so. . . ."

"I can't get over how much he sounded like Emmett," Holly said. "Maybe he's a distant relative of the Browns, and that's where Emmett gets his personality from."

"I doubt it," Emmett said practically. "All my relatives are either here, in New York, or back in Germany." He sighed, a wistful expression on his face. "It's nice to think about though. I wish I did have a relative who was a scientist. Maybe Father would tolerate my interest in the subject better if I did."

"I doubt it. Father would have disowned whoever it was," Emily said sadly.

"Yeah, he does seem like that sort of guy," Marty agreed. "I'm sorry, Emmett."

"For what? You haven't done anything to me. If anything, you're one of the nicer people I've met."

"I know, but -- I feel bad. My family's not like this, so I didn't think anyone else's could be."

Emmett smiled. "Oh, it's not all bad. Mother's the sweetest woman you'll ever meet. And of course I've got these two with me."

"And don't you forget it," Holly said, sweeping him into a hug. "He's the brains, we're the brawn."

Marty laughed. "I thought it was supposed to be the other way around."

"You're thinking 'boyfriend and girlfriend,' not 'young scientist and two protective sister figures,'" Emmett replied, wiggling out of Holly's grip. "Besides, they're built for fighting more than I am."

"Not that we actually have fought boys," Emily quickly said, turning pink.

"You haven't," Holly corrected with a smirk. "But yeah, simpering eyes and sweet smiles work a lot better than fists."

Marty grinned and shook his head. "Man, I'm glad I smacked into you today, Emmett. Otherwise I wouldn't have met any of you. You're all such a great bunch of characters."

"We take immense pride in that," Holly said.

Emmett nodded. "I'm glad I met you too. It's nice to talk to another kid my age who's interested in science. I'm almost glad those bullies started chasing me." He winked. "Almost."

Marty chuckled. "Same here. Although, really, I'm more interested in music. . . ."