3:00 PM PST
As soon as Marty had broken the time barrier, he had flown the DeLorean into Hill Valley Park, and he had parked it between two pine trees. Marty then stepped out and decided to walk into town. As he walked towards the courthouse, he saw that the clock from the clock tower was still working.
Of course, Marty thought to himself, the clock tower doesn't get struck by lightening for over 17 years. Hey, come to think of it, this is the same year that my parents were born. I wasn't even thinking about that, when I chose this year. Yeah, my father would be month old, now - and my mother would be two months old. The Baines haven't moved to Hill Valley yet, though. I wonder if my grandfather would remember me from my visit to 1925.
Marty then looked across from the courthouse - and he saw that the building was still called Larry's Cafe, as the building was in 1925. Apparently, Larry Carruthers had given ownership of the building to his son sometime between 1938 and 1955. Marty stepped into the building, and he heard jazz coming from the jukebox.
Well, it's certainly not rock and roll, Marty thought, but I must say that the music isn't half-bad.
'Can I get you something, kid?' asked Larry, as he walked over to Marty's table.
'Uh, yeah, I'll have a Pepsi,' replied Marty, remembering that Pepsi Free and Tab didn't exist yet.
'That will be five cents,' replied Larry.
Marty reached into his wallet, pulled out a nickel, and handed it to Larry. Marty did see to it that he had the proper currency for the era. Marty then listened to the music from the jukebox, as he waited for his Pepsi to come. Then the door flew open, and he saw a teenage boy with blond hair walking in with two girl.
'Oh, Emmett,' gushed one of the girls, 'I am so happy for you?'
'Emmett,' Marty whispered. He figured that Emmett wasn't a very common name, even in this era. The boy did appear to have Doc's facial figure. Marty then turned to Emmett, and said, 'Hey, excuse me, sir.'
'Uh, hello,' Emmett said, shyly, 'what do you want?'
'Is your name Emmett Brown?' asked Marty.
'Uh, yeah, that's my name,' stammered Emmett. 'Who are you, and where did you hear of me from?'
'Oh, my name is, uh, Michael Lewis,' replied Marty, remembering that he had assumed the alias of Huey Lewis in 1925, 'and I guess I just wanted to get to know you, because you seem like a very interesting person.'
Emmett then narrowed his eyes in suspician, and he asked, 'Oh, really? You're serious?'
'Well, yeah, I'm serious,' Marty said, quietly. 'Why wouldn't I be? I just want to be your friend.'
'Sorry if I seemed a bit rude,' Emmett said, blushing. 'It's just that most of the other guys don't want to have anything to do with me. I'm not exactly the most popular kid in school. In fact, many of the other kids regard me as a freak.'
'Well, that's just not right,' Marty said, softly. 'It's a shame that so many of our peers can be so closed-minded and shallow. I have no use for snobs and bullies. Hey, why don't you guys come sit with me?'
'Sure, I guess we can,' replied Emmett. 'So I gather you're new in town.'
'Uh, sorta, yeah,' mumbled Marty. 'I'm just here for a week, uh, visiting some relatives. I was hoping to make some friends while I stay here.'
'Okay, well,' said Emmett. 'These are my friends. The blonde is Karen Smith, while the brunette is Leanne Sawyer.'
'Hi, Karen and Leanne,' Marty said, smiling.
Emmett then sat with Marty, while Karen and Leanne sat opposite them.
'Do you like spaghetti and garlic bread?' asked Emmett, smiling.
'Oh, yes, I do,' replied Marty, 'as long as the spaghetti sauce doesn't have any meat in it.'
'Yeah, I don't like meat in my sauce, either,' said Emmett. 'I like my spaghetti with marinara sauce and parmeson cheese.'
'Yeah, meat tends to ruin the taste,' said Karen, nodding.
'I don't like meat at all,' added Leanne. 'I'm a vegetarian. Do you know what a vegetarian is?'
'Yeah, I do,' replied Marty, 'it's someone who doesn't eat meat.'
'Right,' replied Leanne, nodding, 'I happen to love animals so much, that I cannot bear the thought of eating them. I also don't wear fur or leather. I do wear wool, though, as you don't have to kill sheep to get their wool.'
'Do you eat eggs and drink milk?' asked Marty.
'Yeah, I do eat eggs,' replied Leanne, 'as they are unfertalized, and not necessarily alive. I don't drink milk, simply because I don't like the taste of it. I do eat dairy products, though, like cheese and ice cream. Cows have to be milked, and you don't have to kill cows to get their milk.'
'If you mind me asking,' said Marty, 'what are your opinions on abortion?'
'I think abortion is a disgrace to humanity,' said Leanne, shaking her head. 'I don't believe in killing unborn babies. If you don't want a child, then just give it up for adoption. Basically, I believe in rights for all living creatures.'
'Yeah, Leanne is quite the activist,' Karen teased, gently.
'Hey, who are ya calling activist?' Leanne protested, playfully. 'Do you consider people who fight for equal rights for women and coloured people to be activists?'
'Hey, now,' Karen chided, gently, 'you act like activist is such a negative term. I think it's good to be proactive, and to stand up for what you believe in.'
'Yeah, you're right, Karen,' replied Leanne. 'It's just that 'activist' is a word that our opponents use to malign us and our cause, so I don't really like that word.'
Then Larry went up to the table, and asked, 'Are you kids ready to order something?'
'Yeah,' replied Emmett, 'we'll have spaghetti with marinara sauce, and some garlic break. Also, a Pepsi for each of us.'
'Okay, then,' said Larry, 'that will be two dollars and 63 cents.'
Marty nearly fainted, when he heard the price. It was amazing how much inflation has gone up within the last 48 years. He dreaded the year 2015, though, when inflation would go up so much that he would be asked to 'thumb a hundred bucks' to save the clock tower.
'Hey, are you okay, Michael?' Karen asked, concerned.
'Yeah, I'm fine,' replied Marty. 'I guess I just have a lot on my mind, that's all.'
'How do you like the music?' asked Leanne.
'Uh, the music is pretty good,' replied Marty, figuring that jazz was about the closest thing they had to rock and roll back in 1938.