Okay, okay. I know it's been done. But really, I couldn't resist this. It was really fun trying to capture the essence of all the classic scenes while keeping my OC in it. Tell me what you think and I'll see you in Chapter 2 :)
"Marty, I really don't think you should do that."
"Relax, Elle. I've got this." He knelt down, gently twisting the knobs to their full capacity. "We musicians are very familiar with this sort of thing, you know."
"I don't think musicians turn the volume all the way up on their amplifiers while they're in a garage." She smirked at him. "And take off those glasses, you look like a douche."
"Hey," Marty looked at her over his sunglasses. "Don't insult the glasses." He returned to the knobs, turning each one a near 360 degrees. "Lighten up, Brielle, or you're going to be a nun for the rest of your life."
"Ha ha. Don't call me that."
A low buzzing noise was beginning to fill the room; it was the only other sound, save for the synchronized ticking of multiple clocks lining the garage walls. The all read the same time, down to the second; 7:54 A.M. Elle supposed it was another one of the Doc's bizarre experiments, which he performed at least once a week. Doctor Emmett Brown- or 'Doc' as he was known to Elle and Marty- was one of their dearest and closest friends, and they respected his experiments greatly, although they never understood a word he said about them. "Plutonium burglaries continue constantly and the Libyan owners are extremely upset..." the morning news blared from a TV in the corner
"Hey, Elle, do the honors and turn the last knob," Marty said, gesturing to one on the very bottom corner.
"Why am I even friends with you…" Elle grumbled, but she turned the knob nonetheless. Marty stood a few feet back, an electric ukulele strapped around his shoulders. She joined him, staring at the gigantic speaker.
"You ready for this?"
"No."
Marty brandished the pick, its metallic coat gleaming in the morning sunlight. Elle barely even had time to distinguish it before Marty finally strummed a chord. The sound was louder than any band could ever make at a concert; the sound waves propelled them backwards, slamming them into a bookshelf behind them. With a small groan the wooden shelves fell forward on them, loose papers fluttering everwhere.
Marty and Elle stirred, clutter raining off of them and onto the floor. Elle stared at the sound system, squinting in the sunlight. Marty removed his sunglasses.
"Whoa," Elle said, staring at the gigantic hole they had just made in the speaker.
"Rock and roll," Marty agreed.
The sound of an alarm sounding cut through the silence, announcing that someone was trying to call the landline. Marty and Elle scrambled up out of the wreckage and found the source: a black phone buried underneath the rubble. Both their hands landed on the handle at the same time.
"What, no fair! Mar-tyyy!"
Marty eyed her carefully. "Rock, paper, scissors."
They went through a quick round and she lost. With a smirk he picked up. "Yo." Elle leaned in to listen.
"Marty, is that you?" the Doc's voice crackled through the receiver. He sounded a bit frantic; but then again, he always did.
"Uh, yeah. Just here with Elle, say hi Elle," he held the phone in her direction.
"Hi Elle," she sniggered.
"It's good I found both of you, because I need you both to be at the Twin Pines Mall tonight at 1:15. I've made a major breakthrough and I'll need your assistance."
"Wait, wait, 1;15 in the morning?" Marty asked, shifting the phone to his other hand. "Doc, what's going on? Where've you been all week?"
"Working."
"Where's Einstein, is he with you?" Marty asked, referring to Doc's beloved pet.
"Yeah, he's right here."
"You know, Doc, you left your equipment on all week."
"My equipment? Oh, that reminds me, Marty, don't hook anything up to the amplifier, there's a slight possibility of an overload."
Elle snickered again when she saw the faint pink tinge appear on his face. "Yeah, I'll keep that in mind."
At that precise second all the clocks lining Doc's walls went off: the cuckoos, the chimes, the bells, everything. Marty clapped his hands around his ears, which was a difficult task with the phone clasped in his hand.
"Jesus Christ!" Elle moaned over the noise. "Doc, what is that?!" Marty relayed this question to Doc with the lung velocity of a mountain lion.
"Ah, my lovely clocks! Yes, they proved my theory of relativity experiment! Those clocks are set 25 minutes back!"
Marty digested this information slowly. "Doc, are you- are you saying that it's 8:25?!"
"Yes, why?"
"Dammit! Elle, we're late for school!"
Marty tugged his headphones over his ears as he rolled down the driveway on his skateboard. Elle followed closely behind on her own, a brand new one Marty got her for her birthday a few weeks ago. She'd only learned how to skateboard when Marty had taught her a few months back, and after many bouts of tears, pleading, and compromising, her parents had finally let her ride to school the fun way: hanging on to the trunks of cars on a skateboard. Marty'd been doing it for years and nothing had happened- why shouldn't she?
They were never more than a few cars apart on the road. As the older one Marty often felt it was his responsibility to make sure she wasn't doing something stupid 24/7. Every so often he'd glance over at her and she'd glance back, and he'd mouth 'Okay?' And she would respond, 'Okay.'
But one time- just the one- he glanced over at her and took in the image of her hair whipping in the wind, the angle of the sunlight hitting her face just right, creating quite an adorable illusion to her. Marty shook his head at his thoughts. Elle being adorable... Riiiight. But, he thought, it was possible. She was already pretty on her own. If she wore a little more makeup she actually could be pretty hot. He blinked. Why he was even thinking about it bothered him.
He let go of the black Volkswagen he'd been hanging onto for the past ten minutes and propelled himself toward the school, stopping only at the front steps to kick up his skateboard. Elle pulled up only seconds later.
"How do you always beat me?" she asked in disbelief.
"Magic," he replied with a smirk.
"Marty!" Jennifer burst through the front doors, her brown curls flying out behind her. "Don't come this way, Strickland's looking for you. If you get caught, it'll be four tardies in a row." She pulled them away from the front doors and around to a side entrance in the east wing. Elle hung back silently, watching Marty and his girlfriend make idle comments about the weather, Marty's choice of jacket, etc., etc. She couldn't help but feel a little left out. Ever since Marty had started dating Jennifer, Elle could feel herself slowly sliding out of his life. They used to have Bad Movie Fridays, where they would spend their Friday night seeing an awful movie either at home or the theater. Now his Fridays were constantly being taken up either by band rehearsals or Jennifer. Jennifer this, Jennifer that. Although the girl was nothing but sweet to Elle, she still had not privately accepted her as a member of their group.
Jennifer looked around the corner. "Okay, I think we're safe."
"You know, this time it really wasn't my fault," Marty said, putting an arm around her shoulders. Elle rolled her eyes. Here we go again... "The Doc set his clocks twenty-five minutes be-"
"Doc?" The hard, steely voice of none other than disciplinarian Mr. S. Strickland rang through the empty hallway. "Am I to understand that you're still hanging around that Doctor Emmett Brown, Mcfly?" He tutted as he scribbled tardies on his yellow notepad before tearing three out. "Tardy slip for you, Miss Parker," he said, handing it to Jennifer. "And one for you, Miss Phelan-" Elle looked like there was a bad smell in the air as she took hers- "And another for you, Mcfly. I believe that makes four in a row." Marty took the small yellow paper before crumpling it into his jacket pocket. "Now, let me give you a nickel's worth of free advice, young man. This so-called Dr. Brown is dangerous. He's a real nutcase."
"Oh, I bet," Marty said and started to walk away, but Strickland held him back.
"You've got a real attitude problem, Mcfly. You're a slacker. You remind me of your father when he went here. He was a slacker too."
"Can I go now, Mr. Strickland?"
"I noticed your band was on the roster for the auditions after school today. Why even bother, Mcfly? You're too much like your old man. No Mcfly ever amounted to anything in the history of Hill Valley."
Marty matched Strickland's tone. "Well, history is going to change."
"'Too loud.' I can't believe it," Marty complained later that afternoon after tryouts. "I'll never get a chance to play in front of anybody."
"Re-elect Mayor Goldie Wilson!" A van with a photo of Hill Valley's first black mayor drove around blaring the message through megaphones attached to the roof. "Progress is his middle name!..."
"Marty, one rejection isn't the end of the world," Jennifer said.
"I just don't think I'm cut out for music," Marty continued.
"Come on, Marty, don't say that, you've been playing guitar since you were ten. You were really good, honest," Elle admitted truthfully.
"And this audition tape of yours is good, Marty, you've got to send it in to the record company." She handed him the tape. "It's like what Doc is always saying-"
"If you put your mind to it, you can accomplish anything," Marty and Elle finished for her.
"Jinx, you owe me a soda!" Elle said quickly.
"But Elle, that's like, the fourth soda I've gotten you this week."
"And I care why?"
He sighed. "Dr. Pepper?"
"Diet."
Jennifer sighed impatiently, wanting to get back to the subject at hand. "It's good advice, Marty."
"What, the Jinx thing?"
"No, Doc's quote."
"Alright, okay, Jennifer. What if I send in the tape and- and they don't like it? I mean, what if they say I'm no good? What if they say, 'Get out of here, kid, you got no future here'? I mean, I just don't think I can take that kind of rejection." They stopped at a bench, where Jennifer bent to tie her shoe. "Jesus, I'm starting to sound like my old man."
"Come on, he's not that bad. At least he's letting you borrow the car tonight."
Marty suddenly leapt onto the bench, mesmerized by a new spectacle. "Whoa, check out that 4 by 4." Elle, who knew next to nothing about cars, assumed he was talking about the black pickup that was being loaded onto a carrier. "That is hot. Someday, Jennifer. Someday. I'll get that car, and we'll drive up to the lake... throw a few sleeping bags in the back..."
Elle really couldn't stand much more of this. She dropped her skateboard back to the concrete and said, "Hey, Marty, I'll see you tonight? Our study date?"
"Yeah, Elle," Marty said as he leaned in to kiss Jennifer.
She skated away.
"Kids," Mrs. Mcfly announced warily, "We're going to have to eat this cake all by ourselves again, your uncle Joey didn't make parole again." She tossed the pan onto the table with a clank. "I think you should all drop him a line," she added, sitting down at the head of the table.
"He's your brother, mom!" Marty's older brother David pointed out. David, clad in his pizza delivery boy uniform, looked almost nothing like anyone else in the family- for one, he had short, black, curly hair, which earned him the nickname 'Sir Leprechaun' from Elle when she was in third grade and he was in sixth.
"Seriously, mom, it's an embarassment having an uncle in prison." Linda, his sister, began removing her curlers right there at the table. She resembled Mrs. Mcfly with her eyes and smile, but had Mr. Mcfly's strong nose.
"We all make mistakes in life, children," Mrs. Mcfly helpfully reminded everyone.
"God damn it," David said suddenly, standing up. He was halfway to the door before Mrs. Mcfly finally reacted.
"David, watch your mouth! Now come and kiss your mother before you leave, now."
"Okay, make it quick. I think I missed my bus. Bye, dad," he added, pecking the top of his father's head. "Wooo, time to change that oil!" he said, referring to his excessive use of hair gel.
"Hey, Marty, I checked your answering service while you were outside pouting over the car. Jennifer Parker called you twice," Linda said.
"I don't approve of her, Marty. Any girl who calls a boy is just asking for trouble," Mrs. Mcfly said, curls trembling indignantly.
You go, Mrs. Mcfly, Elle thought, pushing her peas around her plate with her fork. "Mrs. Mcfly, there's nothing wrong with calling a boy."
"It's terrible! Girls should never call boys! When I was your age I never called a boy or flirted with a boy or sat in a parked car with a boy..."
Elle leaned over to Marty, who was next to her: "It's amazing how you were even born." He snorted into his soda.
"Well, how am I supposed to meet anybody?" Linda was saying.
"Well, it just happens," Mrs. Mcfly said, patting her daughter's arm affectionately. "Like the way I met your father."
"Didn't your grandpa hit him with the car?" Elle asked.
Mrs. Mcfly nodded dreamily. "It was meant to be. And anyway, if grandpa hadn't hit him, then none of you would have been born."
"I still don't understand what dad was doing in the middle of the street," Linda mumbled.
"What were you doing, George? Birdwatching?" Mrs. Mcfly asked her husband vaguely. She didn't wait for an answer. "Anyway, your grandpa hit him with the car and brought him into the house... he seemed so helpless, like a lost puppy. My heart went out to him."
"Yes, mom, you've told us the story a hundred times. You felt sorry for him, so you decided to go under the Fish Under The Sea Dance," Linda rattled these events off in a very bored way.
"No, it was the Enchantment Under the Sea Dance," Mrs. Mcfly corrected her. "Our first date," she went on, remembering. "I'll never forget it. It was the night of that terrible thunderstorm, remember George?" George Mcfly was mesmerized by the television, and he did not answer right away. "We kissed for the very first time on that dance floor," Mrs. Mcfly continued. "And it was then that I realized I was going to spend the rest of my life with him.
"Of course, that was the same dance where Elle's parents met," Mrs. Mcfly nodded at Elle, who smiled politely. "Isn't that right, Elle? Old Daniel and Lilly? How are they, I haven't seen them in ages."
"They're good, Mrs. Mcfly. Dad's a little swamped with work, but, you know. We're fine."
"I remember when they met, too," Mrs. Mcfly smiled faintly. "George introduced them, and oh, the sparks that flew that night! It was wild." She sighed dreamily. "That night was perfect."
The phone was ringing.
Elle raised her head from her calculus textbook, the page sticking to her cheek. She blinked and rubbed her eyes; apparently, she had fallen asleep on Marty's bedroom floor. How long had she been asleep? She checked the clock: 12:28.
She hoisted herself up and picked up the phone to stop that infernal ringing. "Hello?"
"Elle? Is that you?"
Doc. Of course. Who else would be calling this late?
"Uh, yeah."
His tone became suspicious. "What are you doing at Marty's house this late at night?"
"Oh, uh, nothing, Doc, nothing. I swear, it was a study thing. You know. School."
"Where's Marty?"
"Um-" Elle turned and got a full view of Marty's- er- unique sleeping posture. His face was buried in his pillow, with his legs hitched up almost to his chest. His arm hung over the edge of the bed.
Elle bit her fist to keep from laughing. "Sleeping," she choked out. "He's sleeping."
"Well, wake him up. I need you to pick up my video camera at my place before you come here. I left it."
"Okay. On our way." She put the phone back in its cradle.
They rolled in the vacant parking lot at exactly 1:16 A.M., with Marty toting the camera. Elle, who had two left feet and was all thumbs, was never to be trusted with carrying anything. They saw Doc's dog, Einstein, awaiting them near a white trailer. Doc was nowhere to be found.
"Hey, Einstein," Elle cooed, kicking up her board. "Where's Doc, huh? Where is he?" she asked as she scratched behind his big floppy ears. As though in answer, the door to the trailer unfolded slowly, allowing bouts of steam to hiss out into the empty night air. A steely gray DeLorean rolled out onto the asphalt, headlights shining brightly into the night. With a hiss, the door swung open to reveal Doc holding a notepad and a pencil. He leapt out upon seeing them.
"Marty, Elle! You made it!"
"Uh, yeah, Doc-"
"Welcome to my latest experiment! This is the big one, the one I've been waiting for all my life!"
"Well, uh, it's a DeLorean-" Marty stammered, itching to see what this experiment was going to do.
"Don't worry, Marty, all of your questions will be answered within a few minutes. Start the camera."
Marty fumbled with the device. "Uh, Doc, is that a DEVO suit?" Elle asked, noticing the white suit for the first time.
"Never mind that now, never mind now. Not now. Elle, stand by Marty." Elle crossed in front of the camera and stood to Marty's right.
"Alright, I'm ready," Marty announced, holding up the camera.
Doc stood seriously in front of the DeLorean, his hands clasped together. "Good evening. I'm Doctor Emmett Brown. I'm standing in the parking lot at Twin Pines Mall. It's Saturday morning, October 26, 1985—" Doc looked at his watch- "1:18 A.M. and this is temporal experiment number one. Come on, Einie. Hey, hey, boy, get in there." Einstein jumped into the driver's seat."That a boy! In you go. Sit your seatbelt on. That's it." Elle wasn't completely sure what was going on; if you summed the whole situation up, it was a dog driving a DeLorean. "Please note that Einstein's clock is in precise synchronization with my control watch. Got it?"
"Right, check Doc."
"Good." Doc pulled a box-like object out of the car before wishing Einstein a good trip. Upon closer inspection Elle found it was covered with all sorts of buttons and knobs.
"Doc, is that thing hooked up to the car?" Elle asked.
"Yeah. Watch this." Doc pushed a switch back and the car moved backwards.
"Jesus," Marty said quietly. Doc was controlling the car with his wacky remote. At least Einstein wouldn't get hurt.
The DeLorean backed up slowly, and Doc ushered them right in the car's path, the bright LED headlights glaring at them. "If my calculations are correct, when this baby hits 88 miles an hour, you are going to see some serious shit." Doc pushed the switch forward and the car began to accelerate, the headlights becoming bigger and bigger with every second. Elle clutched Marty's arm, wondering if this was how deer felt on the road, when they were literally caught in the headlights- bright blue sparks emitted from the engine, almost lightning-like, encasing the car with its neon colors- Elle shut her eyes-
There was a sound not unlike a rocket blastoff, and a gust of wind blew, scattering leaves. Elle's eyes shot open and the first thing she noticed was the tire tracks burning on the asphalt. The DeLorean was gone. The only thing that remained was the license plate- OUTATIME. It twirled on the concrete before falling with a clatter.
"What did I tell you? 88 miles an hour!" Doc declared triumphantly. ""The temporal displacement occurred exactly 1:20 a.m. and zero seconds!"
Marty picked up the plate but dropped it when the hot metal burned his skin. He petitioned the Lord again as he stared out at the fire tracks.
"Jesus Christ, Doc, you've disintegrated Einstein!" Elle gasped, her hands flying to her mouth.
"Oh, calm down, Brielle, I didn't disintegrate anything," Doc explained impatiently. "The molecular structure of both Einstein and the car are completely intact."
"Don't call me that! If you didn't disintegrate them, where are they?"
"The appropriate question is, 'when the hell are they?'" Doc ignored her vexed tone and looked at her with the bright eyes only a successful scientist could have. "You see, Einstein has just become the world's first time traveler! I sent him into the future. One minute into the future to be exact. At precisely 1:21 a.m. and zero seconds, we shall catch up with him and the time machine."
Marty finally snapped out of his trance and turned to face Doc. "Wait a minute, wait a minute, Doc. Are you telling me that you made a time machine... out of a DeLorean?"
"The way I see it, if you're gonna build a time machine into a car, why not do it with some style?" Doc replied.
"That's classic Doc," Elle said so only Marty could hear her. He covered his snicker with a quick cough.
"Besides, the stainless-steel construction made the flux dispersal—" Doc was cut off by his stopwatch alarm. "Look out!" Doc yanked them all out of the way. There was the sound again, that rocket blastoff, and the car reappeared, skidding to a halt a few yards away. Elle went to open the door but she jerked her hand back.
Marty had resumed filming. "What? What? Is it hot?"
"It's cold," she said, wiping her hands on her jeans. "Damn cold."
"Stand back," Doc said, and Elle took a few steps back. Doc slid a glove on and opened the door. Inside sat a perfectly fine Einstein.
"He's alright," Marty said in disbelief.
"He's fine. And he's completely unaware that anything happened! As far as he's concerned, the trip was instantaneous! That's why his watch is exactly one minute behind mine. He skipped over that minute to instantly arrive at this moment in time. Come here. I'll show you how it works." Doc leapt into the driver's seat. "First, you turn the time circuits on." He pulled a lever, and the machine powered up. OCT 26 1985 A.M. 1:21 blinked red on one row labeled DESTINATION TIME. OCT 26 1985 A.M. 1:22 appeared in green on the one below it that read PRESENT TIME. OCT 26 1985 A.M. 1:20 on the last row that read LAST TIME DEPARTED. There was a whirring sound. Doc pointed at the red row. "This readout tells you where you're going." He pointed at the one in green. "This one tells you where you are." He pointed at the one in yellow. "This one tells you where you were. You input your destination time on this keypad." He indicated one near the ignition. "Say you want to see the signing of the Declaration of Independence." He typed in JULY 04 1776 into the red row."Or witness the birth of Christ." The red one then turned into DEC 25 0000. "Here's a red-letter date in the history of science. November 5th, 1955." The red row became NOV 5 1955. Doc sat there a minute, lost in thought. "Yes, of course. November 5th, 1955."
"What happened?" Elle asked.
"That was the day I invented time travel. I remember it vividly. I was standing on the edge of my toilet hanging a clock. The porcelain was wet, I slipped, hit my head on the edge of the sink, and when I came to, I had a revelation, a vision, a picture in my head, a picture of this." He pointed to what looked like an upside-down peace sign in the back of the car. "This is what makes time travel possible. The flux capacitor."
"Flux capacitor." Elle repeated.
"It's taken me almost 30 years and my entire family fortune to realize the vision of that day. My God, has it been that long? Things have certainly changed around here." Doc got out of the car. "I remember when this was all farmland as far as they eye could see. Old man Peabody owned all of this. He had this crazy idea about breeding pine trees." He walked off.
"This is, uh, this is heavy-duty, Doc. This is great. Does it run on unleaded regular gasoline?" Marty asked. Doc turned around.
"Unfortunately, no. It requires something with a little more kick." He smiled wanly. "Plutonium."
"Plutonium," Marty repeated. "Wait a minute. Are you telling me that this sucker is nuclear?"
"No, no, no, this sucker's electrical," Doc reassured him. "But I need a nuclear reaction to generate the 1.21 gigawatts of electricity I need."
"Nuclear? Doc, have you lost your mind?" Elle said. "You don't just walk into a store and buy plutonium! Where are you getting it?"
"From a group of Libyan nationalists. They wanted me to build them a bomb, so I took their plutonium and, in turn, gave them a shoddy bomb case full of used pinball machine parts." Doc said it like they were talking about the weather. "Come on. Let's get you two a radiation suit!" He walked back into the trailer.
Elle looked at Marty. Marty looked at Elle. In that moment, the same thought passed in between them: something big was about to happen.