Chapter Two

Saturday, June 2, 2001
2:32 P.M.
Hill Valley, California

"Nice place you have, Doctor Brown."

"Thank you, Mr. Door," Doc said, shaking Door's hand, "We just bought it last year."

"Mrs. Brown, nice meeting you," Door said as Doc introduced Clara.

"Likewise," Clara said.

After giving him a brief tour of the house, they settled in the dining room, Door sitting across from Clara and Doc. Door set his suitcase on the table and pulled out a color copy of a photograph.

With a brief smile, Door slid it across the table to Clara and Doc. "Do you recognize any of the people in this photograph?"

"Great Scott!" Doc whispered before he could catch himself.

"Golly!" Clara exclaimed, a tad more audible than Doc.

The photo was an old studio photo of—them, Clara and Doc, with Martha and Daniel Clayton, Clara's parents. It was, Doc knew, taken in 1888, given that a baby was in Clara's arms and she was pregnant.

"Is that you?" Door asked.

"Well…" Clara began.

"It appears to be," Doc said, "But it can't be. It's clearly a very old photograph."

"It is," Door said, "The note on the back dates it to April 18, 1888."

"Well, there you are!" Doc said forcefully.

Door shook his head, "This photo is part of the Clayton family bible, which is in my possession. According to the notes, it is Clara Clayton, born February 8, 1855, with her husband, Emmett Brown, son Jules, and her parents."

Door stood, "I lied when I said we were third cousins, Doctor Brown. In fact, I am your wife's great great grandnephew. Your wife, who was born in 1855, not 1955 as you all claim."

"That's absurd!" Doc said immediately, while Clara shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

"Is it?" Door said as Doc stood as well, "You invented forced fission, a discovery which turned all of physics on its head. It's not that crazy to assume you built a time machine, as well."

"Yes it is!" Doc shouted, desperately.

"I have other evidence," Door said, "For example, according to your TIME Magazine profile, your sons' names are Jules and Verne. Well, there was an Emmett Brown in Hill Valley in the 1880's, who had a wife named Clara, and sons named Jules and Verne!"

And with that, he slid photocopies of their birth certificates across the dining table.

"Verne Newton Brown, born October 29, 1888," Door said, "While your son, who was nearing eleven, I think, when you did that interview with Time, was born on October 29, 1988. Two uncommon names, and I'd bet my life that your son's full name is Jules Eratosthenes, and he was born November 8, 1887!"

Silence.

With a heavy sigh, Clara stood.

"We don't deny anything," Clara said.

"Clara!" Doc hissed.

She held a hand up at her husband, "But, great great grandnephew of mine, what is it you want from us?"

"I want to see my relatives!"

This clearly wasn't the answer either Doc or Clara had expected.

"I'm a genealogist!" Door said, "I've spent my life bonding with names on a tree. I want to see what they were like in life!"

"Absolutely not!" Doc said.

"Emmett!" Clara said, "The man just wants to see his family."

Doc walked around the table and leaned over Door, who was about a foot shorter, "Do you have any idea how dangerous time travel is? And what would you do, tell them?"

"I haven't gotten that far yet," Door said meekly, "I didn't want to get my hopes up."

Clara walked over to her husband and tugged on his sleeve, "Stop intimidating the man, Emmett!"

"I'm not intimidating him!" Doc shouted, insulted at the insinuation that he would resort to brute force.

"Emmett, this man may be my only living family!"

Doc turned to stare at his wife.

"I hadn't thought of that."

"No? It never occurred to you that everyone I knew growing up is long dead? That—"

"I get it!" Doc snapped.

"Do you?" Clara asked.

Feeling uneasy, Door said, "Perhaps we can discuss this more at another time."

"No, that won't be necessary," Doc said, sitting down. The others sat down as well.

"How are you related to me?" Clara asked.

"I'm descended from your brother John, through his son Henry, his daughter Dorothy, and her son James, Junior, my father. My full name is James Edward Door III."

There was another silence, then Doc said, "Who would you like to visit, and when?"

"First off, our common ancestors, Daniel and Martha Clayton. Then, at the very least, I would like photographs of their ancestors."

Doc considered for a moment, "If all you want is photographs, it is possible that a way could be found to obtain covert images of your ancestors."

Door shook his head, "It's not just pictures. There are numerous dead ends on my family tree. I would like to find out what's beyond them. That means going and asking people in the past about their relatives."

He pulled out a family tree from his suitcase and pointed, "See, Mrs. Brown, your line ends with the birth of Paul Clayton, circa 1590. Who were his parents? What did they do for a living? Why did Paul Clayton leave for America? These questions can only be answered by asking him directly."

"Not necessarily," Clara said, "You could search archives in the past."

"You mean in 1590? Perhaps," Door said.

"That's the most I'd feel comfortable with," Doc said.

"Why?" Door asked.

Doc sighed, "It's a very long story. Suffice it to say, time travel to the past is very dangerous. That's why I try to restrict my travels to the future."

Door nodded slowly, "Can you explain it in a bit more detail?"

Briefly, Doc told Door the story of Biff and the Almanac. Door was wide-eyed when he finished.

"I see," Door said, "And, as a neophyte to time travel, you're worried I could do something like that accidentally?"

Doc nodded, "Precisely!"

"Well, I would always travel with your supervision, Dr. Brown. I wouldn't object to that at all."

Doc seemed surprised, "Well, in that event, perhaps I should show you the time machines."

"Really?" Door said, excited.

Doc nodded, "Though we must plan carefully. We will not be leaving tonight."

Though disappointed, Door understood.