The whole of the main street was lit by bright red Chinese lanterns, with American and California State flags hanging from the big saloon and the unfinished courthouse. Carnival booths had been set up in the street. The first one was called EL SAPO; it looked like you were supposed to toss wooden discs into the open mouth of a large clay frog. Farther down the line was an arm-wrestling booth, occupied at the moment by a huge ox of a guy, sitting patiently at a table; a photographer with a sign announcing HAVE YOUR PICTURES TAKEN WITH THE NEW CLOCK TOWER! and another booth advertising RECORD YOUR OWN VOICE! with a primitive phonograph machine that recorded onto cylinders that looked like they were made of wax. Beyond them were tables full of food and drink; fried chicken and steaks, lemonade, and cider.
"Yowza, what a spread," commented Lionel. "It's enough to make a feller's stomach start growlin' like a pack-o'-pit-bulls."
"I think I'm already there, li'l buddy." Thor chuckled as he held his own stomach.
Cherry rolled her eyes before smirking a little. "I suppose we could take a little break, but remember, we should still watch out for anything out of the ordinary or suspicious," she then reminded them. "Especially for Doc's sake with that Drooly Dog Tannen."
"It's Mad Dog Tannen." Atticus corrected her.
"I know what I said." Cherry replied.
"Whatever," shrugged Mo. "Let's partake."
"Come on then, gang." Cherry suggested.
And so, the group came to the festival together to partake in any of The Wild West activities that they could find.
But first, Doc and Marty had to pass a table with a very large sign: please check all firearms. The table was piled high with revolvers and a half-dozen rifles, with a couple of deputies hovering behind to make sure the sign was obeyed. Marty and Doc both paused at the table long enough to assure the deputies they were unarmed, then went in to join the festivities. There were hundreds of people on the streets, far more than Marty had thought lived anywhere around Hill Valley. Some wandered past the carnival and refreshment booths, and a few hung around near the bandstand, but by far the greatest group was gathered near the courthouse, where a wagon held the new clock face, now attached to a huge clockwork mechanism and festooned with bright red ribbons. That well-dressed fellow who had come by the barn climbed up on the clockwork wagon.
"Looks like we made it just in time for a new ceremony." Atticus said to the others.
"No kiddin'." Sabrina agreed.
The well-dressed guy doffed his derby hat and raised his hands for all the townspeople to quiet down. When they finally did, he started to speak: "As Mayor of Hill Valley, it gives me great pleasure to dedicate this clock to the people of Hill County. May it stand for all time." He pulled a lever, which released a catch on a large gear on the clock mechanism. With the ribbon no longer holding it, the gear began to spin. The clock ticked from 8:00 to 8:01. The crowd cheered. The brass band began to play "The Battle Hymn of the Republic."
"I'm not into country music, but this is a pretty good beat." Cherry commented.
"It's pretty alright." Mo added.
Doc nudged his friend's shoulder. "You know, Marty, in a way, it's fitting that we're all here to witness this."
"Yeah, it's poetic in a way," Lionel agreed. "We were there when the clock was struck by lightning and finally stopped running, and now here we are, at the beginning. "
"Totally," Marty agreed. "Too bad I didn't bring my camera."
FLASH!
Marty and Doc looked at each other after there was an old school photographer at work to give people souvenir photographs in front of the "brand new" Clock Tower.
"Hey, guys, you wanna take a picture?" Marty soon asked his new friends once he had an idea.
"Hmm... I suppose taking a souvenir photo couldn't hurt anything," Cherry remarked. "It'll be our own little secret and a memory from what we've been through."
"Sure, sounds like a plan," nodded Lionel. "Besides, nobody's gonna recognize us."
Soon, everyone joined Doc and Marty to take a group photograph together in front of the "new" Clock Tower. It only took Marty a minute to bring over the photographer.
"The only problem is," Doc muttered as they both posed by the new clock, "we'll never be able to show it to anybody."
"Isn't there a picture of this in a history book?" Atticus piped up.
"Smile, guys." was all Marty said, deciding that Doc had enough to worry about already.
The photographer ducked under the curtain behind the box camera. The flash powder ignited. For an instant, the night turned blinding white. Marty blinked, trying to get his eyes used to the Chinese lanterns again. He turned to say something to Doc, but Doc was gone. Marty ignored the white spots in front of his eyes, and searched the crowd, until he spotted his inventor friend, walking rapidly toward a smiling Clara Clayton, or as the group knew her as truly: Zelda Spellman.
Marty sighed. "I guess it's up to us to pay the photographer." he then said to his fellow teenagers.
"Sure, you do that and I'm gonna try to play some games if there's anything worth playing here," Cherry suggested. "Kinda like Wild Gunman in real life without Nintendo."
"Alrighty," nodded Lionel. "I'll come with you!"
"Come along then," Cherry told him before looking over her shoulder to Thor. "Hey, big guy! You want in on this?" she then asked.
"Oh, uh, maybe in a minute!" Thor replied as he found plenty of good food even if it wasn't pizza. "I'll catch up with you guys later!"
"Suit yourself." Cherry shrugged before she continued along with Lionel to go and find something fun to do.
"Step right up, folks to see if you can shoot the ducks!" A guy called out from beside a shooting gallery stand. "Whoever shoots the most ducks wins a special prize!"
"Sounds like Duck Hunt to me." Cherry remarked once she saw the shooting gallery game.
"But with no annoying snickering dog," added Lionel. "Spiffy."
"I wanna shoot that dog sometimes." Cherry whispered darkly.
Lionel nodded in agreement with that statement.
"Step right up, folks!" The vendor called.
"Eh, what the heck?" Cherry shrugged as she walked by. "I'll play the game."
The vendor then chuckled at her, causing Cherry to glare at him.
"What's so funny?" Cherry demanded with a dark glare in her eyes.
"Sorry, li'l lady, it's just not common for a girl to use a gun," The vendor smirked at her a little. "Now if your guy friend here wants to take a crack at it, I'll gladly let him of course."
"I say let her try." said Lionel firmly.
The vendor glared at Lionel. Cherry soon picked up the prop gun and got ready to shoot. As she did, the vendor set up the game as the clay ducks were quacking and waddling around the gallery before getting their heads blown off without hesitation or even a second thought.
"EAT THOSE BULLETS, MOTHERQUACKERS!" Cherry called out while going on a bit of a rampage fueled by the sexist vendor.
After a few moments, nearly all of the clay ducks were shot and blasted, shocking the vendor before he picked out what looked like a mouse doll dressed like a cowboy with a golden sheriff's badge on his vest.
"Hm... A little cheesy, but I'll take it," Cherry shrugged as she took the toy before facing Lionel. "How was that?" she then asked him.
"I like it!" nodded Lionel. "Veeery nice."
Cherry agreed as they walked off together as the vendor looked jaw-dropped and wide-eyed. Soon, other people decided to come and check out the shooting gallery after Cherry was done with her turn. Then the crowd parted, and Zelda was there. She was wearing a ruffled, red calico dress that was shown in the Chinese lantern light. She looked even prettier than Doc remembered. He walked toward her, and she tinned and saw him.
Their gazes locked the way they had the day before, and Doc swore he felt an electrical charge in the middle of his chest. 'Extraordinary,' he thought to himself before he offered his arm as he reached her side. "May I have this dance, Miss Spellman?" he then asked her aloud.
Zelda draped her arm around his. "I would be honored, Mr. Brown."
And with that, the Eddies, banjo, and piano started a song on the bandstand, while a fellow with a guitar called the steps. There were certain things that science just didn't teach you. A case in point, Doc Brown realized, was square dancing. Zelda was very patient as the dance progressed, and for that Doc was very grateful. It was simply that so much of this was new to him. Why, until this dance began, he wouldn't have even been able to recognize a "dosey-doe!" And to be quite frank, he still wasn't sure of the exact nature of an "allemande left." But he could do nothing but give his all, especially where a lovely woman like Zelda was concerned.
"Swing your partner!" The caller yelled over the bouncy tune.
That sounded easy enough. Doc and Zelda grabbed each other's hands and spun around. Zelda was laughing. Lord, he loved to hear that woman laugh. He wouldn't mind spending the rest of his life listening to that woman and looking at her smile. That was, if he could keep from tripping over his feet. Marty didn't know quite what to do with himself. Doc and Zelda were busy dancing, and while Doc didn't seem to always know exactly where his feet should go, the two of them looked like they were having a really good time.
"The Doc in love," Marty murmured to himself. "Who woulda thought?"
"I could say the same about my aunt." Sabrina added with her own astonishment.
Atticus soon approached Mo and bowed to her before she smiled and curtsied to him as she decided to dance along with him while Doc and Zelda shared their own dance.
Thor kept eating before he looked over at the others and pouted since he sort of felt alone right now.
"We oughta go over and comfort him." Lionel said, feeling bad about Thor looking lonely.
"Come on then." Cherry sighed and nodded as she and Lionel walked over to where Thor was.
Thor sighed heavily as he sat around the food, but it made him feel a little unhappy right now.
"Hey, buddy... what's on your mind?" Cherry asked Thor.
"Oh... just thinking about some stuff..." Thor shrugged. "The future, our friends... how you guys have each other, Marty has that girl Jennifer Parker, Dr. Brown now has Aunt Zelda... what does this mean for me?" he then explained as he sulked a little bit.
"Well, we're still here for you," Lionel suggested. "If you wanted to be part of what we've got... I wouldn't be opposed."
"Really?" Thor grinned.
"Of course." Lionel nodded.
"Hmm... I'll have to think about that one..." Thor replied as he stopped to think.
"Don't strain yourself." Cherry smirked.
"Very funny, Cherry." Thor rolled his eyes at her for saying such a thing.
Marty sighed as he wished he could be happy but all he could really think about right now was Jennifer since she was left out of this time travel adventure after the last one was rather chaotic, not just for him and Doc, but also for her after seeing her future self. He soon wandered over to a booth at the far end of the line; one he hadn't looked at yet. Actually, it was a wagon, with an elaborate sign painted on the side: ELMER H JOHNSON PURVEYOR OF THE WORLD'S FINEST SHOOTING INSTRUMENTS!
Marty walked around to the other side of the wagon and joined the crowd. The other side of the wagon was open, and inside was an impressively elaborate shooting gallery, with metal bears peaking from behind boulders, ducks on revolving wheels, and mechanical gunfighters and Indians marching along on a belt-driven line.
A man in a bright checkered suit and derby hat stood before and a little to one side of the wagon, calling to the crowd who was most likely Elmer H. Johnson. "Step right up, gentlemen and test your mettle with these latest products of Colonel Sam Colt's Patent Fire Arms Manufacturing Company of Hartford, Connecticut, U.S.A." Johnson suggested, waving at a table covered with shining new pistols.
Marty realized this guy was a salesman, and this place was a lot closer to an auto showroom than a carnival shooting gallery. These guns were all here for demonstration and sale.
Johnson picked up one of the pistols. "Take this one for example; the new improved and refined Colt Peacemaker, yours for a mere $12," He laughed insincerely. "I tell you true, the action on this new model is smoother than the finest whiskey in President Cleveland's liquor cabinet." He paused to take a deep breath, as if he could smell the whiskey. "And how smooth is that? Why, it's so smooth that even a baby could handle this model, and that's a fact." The salesman looked straight at Marty. "How about you, young fella?" He waved the pistol, handle out, in Marty's direction. "Why don't you give it a try?"
"Me? Fire a gun?" Marty murmured to himself and shook his head.
"Aw, come on, buddy. If I could do it, anyone can." Cherry told Marty.
"Uh, no thanks," Marty replied to Johnson politely. "I'm not too experienced with those-"
But Elmer H. Johnson wasn't going to take no for an answer. "Son, I said that even a baby and that little lady over there could handle this weapon," he continued evenly, his insincere smile still firmly in place. "Surely, you're not afraid to try something that even a baby could do?"
"How do I get myself into these things?" Marty sighed as he still didn't like what this salesman was implying. "No," he then insisted, "I'm not afraid, I just don't-"
"Well, then, step up here like a man." The salesman insisted, offering the gun one more time
Marty took a step forward. "All right," he said, holding out his hand as that seemed to get to him like someone calling him a chicken. "Sure."
The grinning salesman handed him the pistol. Marty soon took the gun in both hands and aimed at the wheel of ducks as it was a bit heavier than he thought, but he soon fired. The gun jumped in his hand. The bullet hit the side of the wagon. Some of the crowd laughed.
"Come on, Cherry could do it and I know you can too." Lionel tried to coach Marty.
Marty glared at the laughter and soon gripped the gun as he looked back at the wheel of ducks. Now he had to pull it out in one fluid motion, aim, and point. His gun fired almost before he could think about it. The duck was down! Thor soon tapped Cherry's shoulder and held out his hand. Cherry shrugged at him and soon gave Lionel her mouse cowboy doll and decided to dance with Thor to make him feel a little bit better. Marty decided to try again. He aimed and took out a bear, and then an Indian.
"Not bad, son." The salesman admitted.
"Yeah," Marty agreed, "it's just like video games." Especially that one game he always used to play, Wild Gunman.
Johnson grinned at him as he reloaded the pistol. "Let's speed it up a little bit."
Marty nodded as this was a lot like Wild Gunman and he soon shot six times: Three ducks, two gunfighters, and a bear went down beneath his bullets. The crowd applauded.
Mr. Johnson shook his head. "Just tell me one thing, fella," the salesman asked. "Where'd you learn to shoot like that?"
Marty shrugged as he put down the empty pistol. "7/11." he replied.
Johnson turned to the crowd as Marty walked away. "That kid's a natural if I ever saw one."
"Feel better?" Lionel asked Marty.
"Yeah, thanks for the recommendation." Marty nodded.
"What're friends for?" Lionel shrugged with a small smirk.
Cherry did her best to put up with dancing with Thor, though she winced a little since he accidentally stepped on her feet a few times and he apologized for it while she tried not to let it bother her too much, but Marty wouldn't have felt so good if he could see Buford and his boys stride up to the edge of the festival.
"You sure the blacksmith's gonna be at this here shindig?" One of the gang asked nervously.
Buford Tannen laughed a genuinely ugly sound. "Sure he's here. Everybody's here tonight." he then said and didn't sound nervous in the least. He knew just what he was here for.
The deputy stepped forward, blocking Tannen and his gang from entering the town square. "You gentlemen are gonna have to check your firearms if you want to join in the festivities." he said firmly.
But Buford Tannen only smiled as his gun hand reached casually for his belt. "And who's gonna make us, tenderfoot?" Tannen drawled. "...you?"
"I am," Marshal Strickland remarked as he clicked back the hammer on his shotgun. He urged his horse out of the shadows, and his ten-year-old son stepped out with him. Strickland had hoped to have a few quiet minutes to talk to his son, that was, until Buford Tannen showed up and Buford was the sort of character you had to deal with directly.
"Why, Marshal Strickland," Tannen said smoothly as he turned to face the lawman. "I didn't know you were back in town."
Strickland stepped forward. "If you can't read the sign, Tannen, I presume you can read this." He pushed the barrel of the sawed-off shotgun against Tannen's spine.
"You're a pretty tough hombre when you're shovin' a scattergun in a man's back." The outlaw remarked.
"I'm like you, Tannen," Strickland replied grimly. "I take every advantage I can get. Now are you gonna check your iron?"
Tannen only grinned. "Hey, I was just joking around with your deputy. Of course I'm gonna check my iron," He unbuckled his gunbelt. "We all were, weren't we, boys?"
The three gang members all agreed as they unstrapped their gunbelts and tossed them on the table.
"Smile, Marshal," Tannen drawled as he added his gun to the Others. "After all, this is a party."
Strickland pulled his shotgun back, but kept it aimed at Tannen. "The only party I'll be smiling at, is the one that sees you at the end of a rope." he then replied.
Buford laughed at that, then waved for his boys to follow him into the festival.
Strickland looked down at his boy. "That's how you handle 'em, son. Don't give an inch, and maintain discipline at all times. Remember that word, son; discipline."
His son nodded solemnly. He was a good boy, and he would lead the Strickland Code.
"Anyone else hungry?" Mo asked after her dance with Atticus.
"Sure, I could eat." Atticus replied.
"Me too." Marty added.
"C'mon, Thor, let's get some grub." Cherry suggested as she was dipped in her dance.
Thor then helped her back up so he wouldn't drop her comedically, and they soon went off together to get some food while nearly everyone else was dancing, especially Doc and Zelda. Marty soon checked out all the food tables and decided a piece of blueberry pie would fit the bill nicely.
"Why, Mr. Eastwood!" A man's voice called, Marty looked around to see the whole McFly family, Seamus, Maggie, and baby William. "It's nice to see you again," Seamus said heartily. "I see you got yourself some respectable clothes, lad. And a fine hat."
"Yeah," Marty explained a bit sheepishly, "the one you gave me, well, it wasn't my style."
"Sure'n that one suits you, Mr. Eastwood." Seamus nodded.
"Very becoming." Maggie added generously.
"Thanks," Marty replied, grateful for his great-great-grandmother's politeness. Marty glanced back at the piece of pie in his hand and saw something he could barely believe stamped in the pie tin that had come along with it: the words Frisbee Pie Company. He showed the tin to both Seamus and Maggie. "Hey, check this; Frisbee! That's far out!" He grinned. He'd never thought about it, but he guessed Frisbees had to come from someplace.
Seamus and Maggie, though, seemed to be a little confused by Marty's demonstration. "Far out?" he then asked as he turned to his wife.
Maggie shrugged at her husband. "It's right there in front of him."
Cherry snorted as she overheard that.
"Seriously?" Marty muttered at what his great-grandparents said.
"Old West, Marty," Atticus reminded him. "You're in The Old West."
"Right... you're right." Marty nodded at that before consoling himself with a bite of pie, but he wouldn't have been so hungry if he had been watching the dance floor.
Doc could dance like this forever. Waltzing with the woman of his dreams to the sweet sound of a fiddle, breathing in the fragrance of her hair; he had never felt so alive at any time in his life indeed. Until suddenly... he felt a sharp pain in his back, like something hard was jabbed against his ribs.
"I told you to watch your back, Smithy." A gruff voice said behind him.
Doc stopped dancing. "Tannen?" he called, trying to keep the fear out of his voice. "What are you doing here? It's not Monday yet!"
"I come to kill you, Smithy." Tannen replied.
The hard thing jabbed into Doc's back again.
"It's a derringer," Tannen explained. "Small, but effective. Last time I used it, fella took two whole days to die—bled to death inside." He chuckled. "It was real, real painful. That means you'd be dead about suppertime on Monday."
Doc felt scared, but wasn't sure what to do.
"Excuse me," Zelda said boldly and bravely. "I don't know who you think you are, but we're dancing."
The dark-bearded fellow smiled at that. Now that she got a little closer to him, she noticed that he could stand a bath. "Well, lookee what we have here!" he called to the lady, then turned back to Doc. "Aren't you gonna introduce me to the lady? I'd like to dance."
But her escort shook his head firmly. "I wouldn't give you the pleasure." Emmett stood up straight and defiant. "You'll just have togo ahead and shoot."
"What is he doing?!" Cherry gasped at that.
"Well, now's as good a time as any-" The bearded fellow agreed all too quickly.
"No, Emmett, I'll dance with him. I'm not going to allow you to be shot for my sake," Zelda interrupted firmly before she turned to the newcomer. And as for this smiling low-life, did he still think he was out on the frontier or something? Maybe somebody had to show him that Hill Valley had become a civilized town. "Your dance, Mr.—?" she began, acting like she didn't know.
"Tannen," Buford obliged. Well, at least he had that much courtesy. He turned to three gentlemen who appeared to have come with him. "Boys, keep the blacksmith company while I get acquainted with the filly." He pushed Doc over to the waiting arms of all three.
They grabbed him, preventing him from coming to her aid. The more Zelda saw of this Mr. Tannen, the less she liked him. She might be new to the West, but the place and time didn't matter. She could always recognize a bully. And she thought Drell was a handful and disgrace before trying to get better to keep Hilda as the love of his life. The man in black waved her over, his smile even bigger than before. She noticed he still held that tiny pistol in his hand; the same pistol he had threatened Emmett with.
"Mr. Tannen," Zelda said sternly, "I don't dance very well when my partner has a gun in his hand."
"You'll learn." Tannen replied. He grabbed her and started to dance, but now he held the gun at her back.
Zelda could feel the sharp metal edge of the muzzle through her dress. Well, gun or no gun, she supposed she had promised to dance with him, so she should at least go through the motions. It was the sort of thing a proper woman did, no matter what the circumstances.
Mr. Tannen pulled her closer. "You know, Smithy, maybe I'll just take my $80 worth out of her." he then called out to Doc.
"Dammit," Doc yelled back, straining against the three sets of arms that held him. "Leave her out of this, Tannen."
"Yeah," Mr. Tannen said as he turned to her again. "I figure there's something you can do that's worth $80."
Zelda pondered as dancing wasn't going to end this, so she supposed she had been naive to think it would be that simple. Still, she'd be a pretty poor schoolteacher and guardian to Sabrina if she didn't have a few ways to deal with bullies. "$80?" she replied sweetly. "Why, Mr. Tannen, I believe you've underestimated me."
The smile returned to Mr. Tannen's not-too-bright face. The bully thought he had won. "Have I now?" he asked in triumph.
Zelda could feel the pressure of the gun leave her back. This, then, was the perfect time. She stomped down on his foot with her patent leather shoe, then kicked him sharply in the shin.
"Owww!" Tannen screamed, grabbing for his foot. He glared at Zelda, then pushed her roughly away. She lost her balance and fell to the ground.
"Stop it!" Doc suddenly yelled. "Leave her alone!"
And then the music stopped. Marty was famished. He finished off the pie in a matter of seconds. That was one of the problems with time travel—it never left you time to eat. The square dance music ended in the middle of a song.
"Damn you, Tannen!" Doc's voice yelled out.
"Marty, we've got a situation." Atticus warned their new friend.
"Uh-oh..." Marty muttered as he could see it now. While he was eating pie, Doc was getting into trouble. He saw people moving quickly off the dance floor. It looked like there was going to be a fight. Marty decided he'd better get over there before things got serious.
"No, I damn you—to Hell!" Tannen firmly told the inventor.
The crowd backed away even more, so that Marty could see Mad Dog Tannen had a derringer in his hand: a derringer that he had pointed straight at Doc! Things had gotten serious already, too serious for Marty to get over there and do anything before Tannen pulled the trigger. But he couldn't just stand here and do nothing! Marty looked down at the pie plate still in his hands. He whipped it at Tannen with his best Frisbee toss. And the plate sailed straight and true, right into Tannen's gun hand! The gun went off. Buford's gang backed off as the bullet sailed through Doc's hat.
Tannen turned to look at Marty and the others. "You!" he yelled.
Marty saw Doc break away from Buford's gang and run to Zelda, helping her up from the ground. It looked like the worst was over.
"Just leave our friends alone." Marty replied.
But Tannen didn't want to leave it at that. "Them's mighty strong words, runt," he called. "You man enough to back 'em up with more than a pie plate?"
Marty didn't have time to argue with Buford Tannen, especially if they had to get out of there by 8:00 on Monday morning. He turned and started to walk away.
"What's wrong, dude?" Tannen called after him. "You yellow?"
Lionel glanced up and saw that look in Marty's eyes. "No, man, you're letting him goad you!"
Marty paused. Yellow? No, he told himself, he didn't have time for people to call him names, either. He and Doc had a date to get out of there.
"That's what I thought!" Tannen exclaimed with a laugh. "A yellow-belly!"
Marty turned back to the sneering Tannen. "Nobody calls me yellow!"
The group face-palmed. Once again, Marty had let someone's insults goad him.
"Marty, no!" Cherry cried out, but it was too late.
"Then let's finish it," Mad Dog declared. "Right now."
One of Tannen's boys tugged on his boss's sleeve. "Not now, Buford," The gang member murmured. "The marshal's got our guns."
Tannen blinked and looked at his sidekick, then glared back at Marty. "Like I said, we'll finish it—tomorrow." he then called.
Another of his gang members nudged him. "Tomorrow we're robbing the Pine City Stage."
Cherry snickered and smirked at where this was going.
Buford turned and looked at his boys. "What about Monday? We doin' anything on Monday?"
The three gang members looked at each other.
"No, Monday's fine," The first sidekick who had interfered replied. "You can kill him on Monday."
Tannen turned back to Marty, the smile once again on his face. "I'll be back this way on Monday. We'll finish it then, right over there in front of the Palace Saloon." he then instructed and pointed to the building in the distance.
Marty didn't believe all this was happening. "Yeah, right," he replied skeptically. "When? High noon?"
"Noon?" Tannen laughed derisively. "I do my killin' before breakfast. 7:00!"
Marty swallowed. He would just have to be smarter than Tannen—which shouldn't be hard. "We'll be here at 8:00," he called back. "We do our killin' after breakfast."
"We?" Mad Dog cackled and smirked.
"Yeah, me and my gang against you." Marty retorted with a cocky smirk as he gestured to Atticus, Cherry, Mo, Lionel, Thor, and Sabrina, making them all very nervous suddenly.
"Marty!" Doc called.
Marty looked over to see the inventor shaking his head. Marty grinned and winked as a reminder. There was a commotion at the back of the crowd. Marty saw three men pushing their way through—two of them were the deputies who had been guarding the gun table, and the third one also had a badge. Marty had never seen him before—or had he? Holy Cow! This guy had to be Marshal Strickland. He looked exactly like Marty's truant officer, Mr. Strickland, except now he—that is, Strickland's great-grandfather, the marshal—had a handlebar mustache.
"What's this about?" The marshal demanded. "You causing trouble here, Tannen?"
"Dang, is there a Strickland in every century?" Atticus commented.
"I could say the same for Tannens and McFlys." Mo replied.
"No trouble, Marshal," Tannen replied easily. "Just a little personal matter between me and Eastwood. It don't concern the law."
Strickland shook his head. "Tonight, everything concerns the law. Now break it up. This is a party. Any brawling, it's fifteen days in the county jail."
The crowd started to drift away, and after a bit of tuning up, the band began to play as well.
Strickland glared at both Tannen and Marty: a look that Marty knew all too well, then stalked off toward the festival entrance, his two deputies behind him.
Tannen walked over to Marty. "8:00 Monday, runt," he demanded as he pointed a finger in Marty's face. "And, if'n you ain't here, I'll hunt you and shoot you down like a duck."
One of the gang members tugged at Tannen's sleeve. "It's 'dog', Buford. 'Shoot him down like a dog.'"
"I see some things run in the family around here." Sabrina muttered to herself cynically.
But Tannen chose to ignore the correction. "Let's go, boys, and let these sissies have their party." he then said instead.
Tannen and his gang turned and swaggered, as a group, toward their horses.
The three cows overheard what just happened as the biggest and most brown cow suddenly had an idea hit her. "I got it! Why don't we go get those guys and their teamwork skills and fighting and them to get rid of Mad Dog Tannen from this town for good?" she then suggested to her fellow cows.
"Oh, that is a sensible idea." Mrs. Calloway replied sardonically.
"I knew you'd love it!" Maggie grinned as she took that seriously.
"Tch. Don't they have sarcasm where you come from?" Mrs. Calloway rolled her eyes at that.
"Oh, wake up and smell the alfalfa! It's perfect!" Maggie insisted.
"But Maggie, how do we find them and talk to them about this?" Grace asked.
"We'll see where they go to sleep tonight and come see them again tomorrow morning," Maggie replied. "It'll be easier than what happened with that old hick Alameda Slim when he tried to take away the last dairy farm in the county."
"I hope you know what you're talking about..." Mrs. Calloway relented, feeling uncertain.
"Trust me, this won't fail." Maggie reassured confidently as she trotted off ahead of the other two.
Grace then followed after Maggie with an innocent smile.
"I can already tell dealing with this show cow is going to the thing that puts me out to pasture." Mrs. Calloway muttered to herself as she followed behind her fellow dairy cows.
Doc hurried over to Marty's side. "Marty, what are you doing, saying you'll meet Tannen?"
Marty grinned and shrugged. "Hey, Doc, at 8:00 Monday, we'll be out of here, right?"
But Doc only frowned. "Theoretically, yes," he mused. "But what if the train's late?"
"Oh... I didn't think about that..." Marty admitted.
"There's Indian attacks, flash floods, and who knows what else?!" Cherry freaked out. "Use your brain for once!"
Soon, Zelda walked up to him before he could worry anymore. "While I can't exactly condone such wreckless behavior, especially from a group of teenagers... but I'm glad you did," she then said to Marty. "You certainly saved Emmett's life."
"Well, at least someone's giving us some credit here." Marty said to the group around him.
"Hmm..." Cherry paused as she looked unsure about that.
"Marty—-uh, Clint," Doc barked, breaking the teenager's train of thought, keeping up appearances for everyone else around them. "I'm going to take Clara home. We'll discuss this later." Doc took Zelda's arm and walked away.
"Maybe we should get away and think about this too." Marty then suggested.
"Oh, ya think?" Sabrina asked a bit firmly.
Right now, though, they seemed to be surrounded by some of the locals.
"You and your gang sure set him straight, Mr. Eastwood," one of them said jovially.
A second man nodded. "I'm glad somebody's finally got the gumption to stand up to that son of a bitch."
A third fellow pounded him on the back. "You kids are all right in my book. I'd like to buy you all a drink."
"Uh, no thanks." Marty replied, a bit overwhelmed.
That salesman with the loud suit, Elmer Johnson, pushed his way through the crowd and shook Marty's hand. Marty noticed that, in his other hand, Johnson was carrying a gunbelt—and in the belt's holster was the same model pistol Marty had used before.
"Son," Johnson said brightly, "I'd like you to have this brand-new Colt Peacemaker and gun-belt, free of charge." He put the revolver in Marty's right hand, the gunbelt in Marty's left. "I want everybody to know that the gun that killed Buford Tannen was a Colt Peacemaker." He leaned close to Marty's ear and whispered: "'Course, you understand that if you lose, I'm takin' it back..."
"Uh, thanks," Marty replied, looking down at the gun in his hand. He turned and saw that he was facing Seamus and Maggie McFly.
Great-great-grandfather Seamus shook his head. "You had him, Mr. Eastwood. You could have just walked away, and nobody would have thought the less of you for it. All it would have been was words—hot air from a buffoon." Seamus sighed. "Instead, you let him rile you into playin' his game, his way, by his rules."
"We're gonna try to talk to him about that actually, sir." Mo said to the older Irish man.
But Marty wasn't going to play Tannen's game, but there was no way to tell his great-great-grandfather without explaining all sorts of things that, well, he couldn't explain. Still, he wanted to reassure the elder McFly. It was the least he could do for family.
"Keep your shirt on, Seamus," Marty answered with a grin. "I know what I'm doing." He shifted his grip on the Colt, ready to twirl it on his finger. Oops. He grabbed the pistol before it fell to the ground. Boy, he had almost forgotten how heavy that sucker was.
It was Maggie's turn to shake her head. She looked at her husband. "He reminds me of poor Martin McFly."
Marty looked up. "Who?"
"My brother, Martin." Seamus answered sadly.
"Wait a minute," Marty interjected. He couldn't believe this. "You have a brother named Martin McFly."
"Had a brother," Seamus responded grimly.
"I take it there's a sad story about your brother?" Thor guessed.
"Aye," Seamus nodded and soon began to explain to them since he trusted them enough. "Martin used to let men provoke him into fightin', for he was concerned that people would think him a coward if he refused."
Marty swallowed thickly at that as it sounded very familiar.
"That's how he got a Bowie knife shoved through his belly in a saloon in Virginia City." Seamus continued morosely.
"Wow... This is heavier than heavy." Marty admitted to the others quietly.
"Never considered the future, poor Martin," Seamus went on balefully, "God rest his soul."
"I'm sorry for your loss." Atticus spoke softly.
"Thank you." Seamus replied just as soft.
"Sure'n I hope you and your friends are considerin' the future, Mr. Eastwood." Maggie urged.
"Oh, yeah," Marty answered as honestly as he ever had in all his life. "We think about it all the time."
There were more stars overhead than Doc Brown had ever seen. It was quite remarkable; thousands of points of light, like a field of bright flowers in the sky. Only now did he realize what kind of damage fossil fuels had wrought upon the dull night sky of 1985. What, however, was even more remarkable was that he now had such a difficult time looking at the stars at all. That was what he and Zelda had come out here to do, setting up the now-repaired telescope on its tripod in the back of the buggy. And the stars were quite remarkable. It was only that they paled next to the presence of Zelda. Doc took a deep breath and tried to concentrate on the view through the telescope as Zelda continued her explanation.
"And the crater in the middle northwest," The adult witch said brightly, "the one that's sort of like a star-burst, that's called Copernicus," She stopped talking, and Doc looked away from the eyepiece. Even in the darkness, he could tell she was blushing. "Oh, I'm embarrassed," she said with the sweetest smile. "I feel like I'm teaching school."
"No, please, continue the lesson. I've never found lunar geography so fascinating," Doc encouraged. "You're very knowledgeable." he then added.
Zelda tilted her head in that charming way she had, her wonderful smile on her face for good.
"Have you always had an interest in stars?" Doc asked her.
"Oh, um, sort of," Zelda replied bashfully. "Sometimes on lonely nights, I'd look at a telescope that an old friend once gave me after I, well, let's say I did him a favor, when he was hoping to see Europa, Ganymede, and Callisto."
"The moons of Jupiter." Doc nodded knowingly.
"Precisely," Zelda agreed as she knew as well. "At night I used to stare at the moon. I'd make drawings of it; I even made up my own names for everything. Of course, later I found out all the craters and seas already had names... later on."
What a marvelous story! "And what did you call Copernicus?" Doc asked.
"Little Sunshine." Zelda admitted, looking like she might blush all over again.
Doc looked back through the eyepiece of the telescope again. "Yes, it does look like a little sun." he then noted as that name sounded appropriate.
Zelda moved closer to him. "Emmett, do you ever think we'll be able to travel there, the way we travel across the country, on trains?" she then wondered.
Well, this was certainly something he knew about. "Definitely, although not for another 84 years. And not on trains," he answered quickly, trying to concentrate on the stars, rather than the woman next to him. "We'll have space vehicles; capsules, sent aloft with rockets, devices that create giant explosions, explosions so powerful that-"
"—they will break the pull of the earth's gravity, and send the projectile through outer space." Zelda interrupted.
Doc stared at her, dumbfounded as he wondered how could she know that sort of thing.
"Emmett," Zelda then said and answered his unspoken question, "I read that book, too. You're quoting Jules Verne: From the Earth to the Moon."
"You've read Jules Verne?" Doc demanded out of disbelief.
"I adore Jules Verne." Zelda answered with a little smile.
"So do I!" Doc agreed, doing his best not to shout. "20,000 Leagues Under the Sea! My absolute favorite! The first time I read that, when I was a little boy, why I wanted to meet Captain Nemo and have adventures with him."
"Well, don't people around here about that," Zelda smirked and winked. "The book was published 10 years ago today."
"We'll just say it made me feel like a little boy." Doc advised.
"Right." Zelda nodded and agreed.
Doc continued to look at her and smiled warmly. "I-I never met a woman who liked Jules Veme before." he then said to her.
"I never met a man like you before." Zelda whispered. And, without any scientific explanation whatsoever, Emmett Brown moved closer and kissed her full upon the lips.