Chapter 9
Sunday, April 6th, 1986
Hill Valley
5:02 P.M.
Marty pulled back up to his house, sighing in relief. Home sweet home. It's good to be back. He parked in the driveway, locked up the truck, and headed inside. "Hey guys? I'm home."
"Hi son," George said. He was sitting in the living room, watching an episode of "The Outer Limits." "Have a good time over at Doc's?"
"Yeah -- we were testing a pair of walkie-talkies he'd improved to have better range and reception. I accidentally smashed up one of the sets, though, so tomorrow after school I'm going to go back and help him fix it."
"I see." George glanced over at Marty, then frowned and turned around. "Marty, where's your jacket?"
"My jacket?"
"Grandpa Arthur's jacket. Where is it?"
Marty blinked. "Oh, yeah, I--"
Suddenly, it hit him. Marty's eyes went wide with horror. "Holy shit! I left it with Doc!" He spun around and ran out the front door.
George stared after him. ". . . . I'm not going to kill you for forgetting it. . . ."
Marty arrived back at Doc's garage just a few minutes later, having sped through the traffic to get back. He raced in the front door, trying not to panic too much. "Doc! Doc, we gotta go back to 1938, I forgot--"
Doc was waiting for him, already holding out the coat in question. Marty blushed and took it. "Sorry," he said, looking at his feet. "Next time, I'll remember what the hell I need to take back with me." He shrugged the coat back on. "I guess this means I'm out of the DeLorean's lock system."
Doc smiled reassuringly. "No you aren't. You're a responsible kid at heart, Marty, and you're still relatively new to time travel. I can forgive you one moment of forgetfulness. Besides, I didn't catch that mistake myself, and I should have. The coat just blended into the background."
"Yeah, I know. It completely slipped my mind when you came to pick me up." Marty looked at Doc's wardrobe. "So you've had it for, what, 48 years?"
"Roughly so, yes. My younger self didn't try to return it to you after I discovered you didn't recollect the trip. I've worn it a few times, but finally I just stuck it in the closet and waited for you to claim it. Sorry if it smells a little musty."
"No problem, it's been in our closet since Grandpa Arthur died." Marty frowned suddenly. "Hey, Doc? Couldn't we just go back and get the coat from your younger self?"
"It's possible, but I'd advise against it actually. It's too risky for me personally. We had two close calls too many, what with my voice on the walkie-talkie and my younger self actually seeing me and the DeLorean. We're very lucky he considered it all a dream. And I know that my younger self and Holly would drag you off to further discuss those weird feelings they were getting about you." He frowned at Marty. "That's odd, how they could both sense your future connection to me."
"I know -- I wasn't trying to be obvious about it or anything," Marty frowned back. "Then again, I wasn't exactly trying to hide it either. I wasn't thinking about it at all, for the most part."
"Perhaps they were just picking up on something overly familiar in your behavior," Doc shrugged. "The point is, it's probably best in this case to let things stand. No reason to give my and Holly's deductive skills a test."
"Yeah." Marty suddenly smacked his head. "Jesus, it was stupid to give the coat to you anyway! Not just because of the space-time continuum either. We had the lining replaced in 1983. The new stuff is synthetic, something called acetate."
"So?"
"So? Doc, you're allergic to synthetics! You get rashes! Your younger self even mentioned it to me!"
"Not from acetate," Doc said, puzzled. "I have had reactions to other types of synthetics, but never from ace--"
Doc paused as understanding dawned on his face. "Great Scott, that must be it. . . ."
"What is it?" Marty asked, worried.
"Marty -- I think that, by wearing the coat while I was younger, I managed to acclimate myself to the fabric and thus alter my allergies somehow. I do remember getting mild, itchy rashes at first whenever I handled the lining -- is that what happened to me originally?" Marty nodded. "But as I handled the jacket more, the rashes slowly lessened and finally went away completely. I must have desensitized my skin to whatever it was in the acetate that caused the rashes."
For a moment, Doc and Marty just looked at each other. Then Doc burst out laughing. "I should strand you in the past more often! You have a knack for changing the future for the better!"
"Thanks, but no thanks," Marty said, relaxing in relief. "I'm just glad everything turned out for the best."
"Me too. This whole episode shows how dangerous time traveling can be. Good thing I made all those improvements now, huh?"
"Yeah, I know. I guess I'd better get back home -- I think I kinda freaked Dad out by rushing out like that. I'll be back tomorrow to help fix the time talkie." Marty smirked at Doc. "After this trip, I'll take all the security I can get."
The End