Chapter 1: Hill Valley
Tuesday, September 2nd, 1885
Marty McFly Junior and his sister Marlene McFly were relieved as they arrived in a version of their hometown of Hill Valley, albeit a Western version. The buildings surrounding them were long-gone businesses and very different from the modern designs they knew and loved, and it was like living in the desert. While it looked very much like a Western movie, the people had plainer clothing, which Marty Junior realized made sense, since things had probably been conflated over time, and Verne always criticized Westerns for this. They had opted against flying so as to not confuse the civilians with a dangerous UFO, and while the wagon wheels Jules had added did add some cosmetic believability to the time machine, they weren't going to be fooling anyone and needed to hide it. Running on batteries instead of horses wasn't exactly heard of in 1885.
"This is so cool. It's just like that play…" Marlene said.
"Ah yes, the Gold Rush play you despised." Junior reminded her.
"Well, I did need it for my course credit. Plus, I do love wild west fashion."
Speaking of the gold rush, Hill Valley certainly looked like it was in the middle of one. The men with their long beards reminded the teens of classic gold rush movies, and it really seemed like the town was down to its bare essentials, before everything really sprang into place. The Courthouse Mall wasn't even a courthouse in 1885, much less a mall. Instead, it was just under construction, being overseen by a man who, Marty Junior deduced from the perpetual scowl and not the historical knowledge that he very much lacked, must have been Marshal James Strickland. Even in his old age, the high school's former principal was proud of his heritage, a feat that extended to his son Jeb, who had inherited the job. Marty Junior's thoughts were interrupted by Marlene's sudden exclamation.
"We need to sleep! I'm tired."
"Actually, that makes sense. According to your internal clock, it's around eleven PM, so we really should find somewhere to go. How about the Palace Salon and Hotel over there?" Junior looked towards the medium-sized building, only remarkable in that it had swinging bar doors, much like the one the hero would stroll through in a classic film. Everything felt fake in a way, and real in so many others.
"You call that garbage a hotel?" Marlene wondered, although justifiably. It didn't look much like the ones she was more familiar with from modern magazines, with their various windows and swooping logos.
"Stuff didn't just start out perfect overnight, Mar. It evolved over time." Junior explained, before walking to the door.
"Wait!" Marlene said, before Junior could open it. "What about the DeLorean? Where should we hide it?"
Junior did a quick scan of the area. He noticed an empty black stable nearby. "It looks like that place is abandoned. We can hide it there, and if we're unlucky, at least attach horses tomorrow."
Marlene remained skeptical. "I'm all for horses and their wildness, but can't the car just run on Mr. Fusion?"
"It looks really broken, and besides, we don't want to draw attention to ourselves."
Marlene rolled her eyes, deciding to be clever. "Fine. I'll put it there, and you can go in the trough."
"Not funny." Junior replied. Marlene smiled and began wheeling the car towards the stable. As Junior pushed the doors open, he realized he was pretty tired too, and the bar's overall atmosphere was definitely contributing to that. Being old-fashioned, there was no jukebox, record player, or any other type of music. With their beards, hats, and suits, everyone looked so formal. There was definitely a surplus of darkness, as compared to the bright outdoors. Junior made his way towards the bar, where the bartender, a middle-aged man with brown hair named Chester, looked at him and was confused.
"Kid, are you sure you is supposed ta be here? I reckon you is too goddamn young."
"Well, it does seem a little strange having a bar in a hotel. Have you considered making a kitchen instead?" Junior joked, hoping that a joke would deescalate the situation. He didn't like Chester very much.
"If you want a kitchen, just go home and gather 'round the wood stove with your ma. We serve whiskey 'round these parts."
Junior came to a startling realization. Of course the bars only served alcoholic beverages. They wouldn't serve soft drinks like Pepsi until 1893, and coke until… actually, he didn't know when coke was invented. He looked around at the other patrons, deciding that they provided no threat when he made his order, and began to speak.
"Don't you have coke or something a little less…vibrant?" Junior wondered.
"We ain't sellin' drugs!" Chester exclaimed. "You take the whiskey, or you march right out of my bar, Mr-"
So coke hadn't been invented yet. Junior made a mental note to himself, but it was a bit hard, because all the customers began laughing and pointing at him. He then realized he needed a suitable alias.
"Eastwood, sir." That was a good last name, but he wasn't sure about using the name "Clint", which, although for the actor it sounded great, sounded too old-fashioned. He had sort of taken a liking to his 1955 alias, and being in the past again was a very similar experience. He felt compelled to use a James Bond-style flourish in his speech. "Calvin Eastwood."
"Well, Mr. Eastwood, I can tell you come from a far away land." Chester said, to Junior's surprise. "Why don't I give you a room for the night? You seem a bit delirious."
"He's not just delirious! He's hilarious!" Levi, one of the customers, joked. The others laughed at Levi.
"Uh, yeah, I'm from Nevada City. But my wagon train got lost, and I'd like some help finding it." Junior hoped that was enough Old West knowledge to get him through the night. Luckily, it seemed to work, as Chester raised an eyebrow.
"Ah, a lost soul. Don't worry, the train goes back to Nevada City tomorrow at 12 o'clock sharp."
"Do you have any rooms?" Junior asked. He couldn't believe his luck.
"Just one." Chester replied. "It ain't much."
000000000000000000000000000000000
It certainly wasn't much, as Chester had said. Junior looked around the room, with its fairly basic bed, gas lamp on a nightstand, dirty windows, and overall grimy floor. It wasn't the best of rooms, but Junior understood that things took time to evolve, and he was also really tired. The recent time-travel adventure had exhausted him beyond belief. As he lay down on the bed, Junior thought about Verne and Suzy. He was hoping to see them again the next day, because life really didn't feel right with them gone. Suzy especially had always been there to cheer him up, even if their relationship was fairly fresh.
"Maybe this will all work out." Junior bemused. "Maybe all four of us will be back home in 2015, safe and sound, and this can all be over."
