Back to the Future Part II (16 page)

‘FIELD GOAL!’ the announcer screamed over the roar of the crowd. ‘Nineteen to seventeen, UCLA and this Coliseum crowd is going wild! A perfect thirty five yard kick for senior halfback Jim Decker, with less than eighteen seconds remaining, wins this game for UCLA!’ The announcer’s voice dropped an octave. ‘And Bob, I wonder what the odds of something like this happening are?’

‘Speaking of odds, Bill,’ a different voice replied. ‘UCLA was a twenty point favourite to win thin game,' Bob chuckled. ‘I sure wish I’d taken a point spread on this one. I could have made a small fortune! I tell you, Bill-’

‘You hear that, Biff?’ the oldster asked triumphantly as he turned off the radio. ‘If you’d have bat on this game, you’d have cleaned up! 
Now
, would you like to have this book?’

‘OK, pops,’ the young Biff answered, a touch of in his voice. ‘I’ll take a look at it. But it sounds crazy to me.’

‘Check it against the sports page tomorrow,’ the senior citizen insisted, ‘and then decide if it's crazy.’

Something went thunk on the back seat of the car. Marty looked up. It was the sports book! Biff must have tossed it back here after his older self gave it to him. All Marty had to do was reach out and grab -

A liver-spotted hand closed aver the book and snatched it away.

‘You damned fool!’ Old Biff yelled. ‘Never leave this book lying around! Don’t you have a safe?’ The old man made a disgusted sound, deep in his throat. ‘No, you don’t have a safe. Get a safe! Keep the book locked up! And until then, keep the book on you! Like this!’

Marty could hear Old Biff stuffing the book some place or other. Car doors opened and closed. They were getting out!

‘And don’t ever tell anybody about it, either,’ Old Biff continued, his voice growing fainter as the two walked away. ‘Oh, there’s one more thing.’

Marty got up cautiously to peek over the top of the seat.

‘Someday, a kid or a weird-looking old man -’ Old Biffs voice faded as the two of them disappeared around the corner.

Marty waited a minute. Once they were away from the garage, he would get out of the car and follow them.

Young Biff stepped back in front of the doorway. Marty ducked down. He heard a creaking sound, like old hinges complaining. It was getting much darker in here.

Marty risked another look. Biff was closing the garage doors! The two doors slammed together as Marty lifted his head to watch, followed -immediately - by a heavy click.

Marty didn’t like the sound of that click.

He got out of the car and moved to the doors. He tried to tug them open, but they wouldn’t budge. He pulled harder, hoping they were stuck, but they didn’t move at all. They weren’t stuck. Biff had locked them. That click meant there was a padlock on the other side.

He looked around the garage. The windows were tiny. They let in hardly any light at ail, and they were too small for even a child to get through. Marty was trapped in here!

And it was worse than that. Not only had Old Biff given his younger self the book, he had warned the teenager of the book’s true importance. What if the young Biff did go out and get a safe - how could Doc and Marty get the book back then? And the longer Biff was left alone with the book, the more chance he had to use it. Once Biff started to win, did that mean part - or all - of that terrible, Biff-controlled future might be inevitable?

Marty had to stop that from happening at almost any cost, not just for his family and friends, but all of Hill Valley.

There was only one thing left to do. He pulled the walkie-talkie from his jacket pocket and pressed the talk button.

‘Doc!’ he spoke softly but clearly, in case either of the Biffs were still around.

The speaker on Marty’s box crackled with a burst of static. ‘Marty!’ Doc’s voice came through a second later. ‘What’s the report?’

‘Biff has the book, the old man is gone, and I’m locked in Biffs garage!’ Marty replied succinctly.

‘Great Scott!’ Doc answered.

‘You’ve got to come and get me out!’ Marty insisted. He dug in his pocket, and retrieved the piece of paper where he had written down Biffs address when he got it from the phone book. ‘The address is 2311 Mason Street.’

‘Mason Street?’ Doc protested. ‘But that’s way over on the other side of town! I can’t drive the DeLorean there in the daylight! ’

And Biff would get away with the sports book.

‘Then walk, run, just get here any way you can. Doc!’

‘All right, Marty!’ Doc replied. ‘I’m comming.

Marty just hoped Doc would get here in time.

Marty paced back and forth like a caged anlmul. flu had been locked in this garage for hours. It had got!an dark outside while he waited. What could be taking Doc so long?

Someone banged on the outside of the garage door.

‘Doc?’ Marty called softly.

But the voice that answered wasn’t Doc's.

‘Who’s in there?’ Biff demanded angrily.

Jeez, now Marty had done it. He heard Biff unlock the padlock. Marty looked around the garage. Messy as it was, there was no place to hide in here. No place, that is, except for the floor of the back seat of the convertible.

Marty jumped in the back of the car just as Biff opened the door. He caught a glimpse of the other teen as he ducked out of sight. Biff had changed clothes. He now wore a black shirt, white tie and gray jacket, clothes that looked somehow familiar. Of course! Marty remembered. It was the night of the ‘Enchantment Under the Sea' dance.

‘Is somebody in here?’ Biff yelled. Marty could hear his footsteps on the concrete floor.

There was a burst of static from Marty’s walkie-talkie.

Marty yanked it from his pocket and turned the radio off. But the damage was done. Biff must have heard that.

Biff walked past the car.

‘Old man,' he called uncertainly, ‘are you still in here?’

Marty glanced up at Biffs retreating backside. There, shoved in Biffs waistband, was the Sports Almanac!

Marty heard laughter outside the garage.

Biff stopped, and then walked quickly out into the driveway.

‘Dammit, you kids!’ Biff yelled out into the darkness. ‘If I see you around here again, I’ll kill you both!’

Marty crouched down again as Biff stomped heavily back into the garage and got behind the wheel. Marty lifted himself up enough to see that Biff had put the Almanac down on the dashboard.

Now, if there was just some way he could reach it -

He ducked down quickly as Biff threw the car into reverse and gunned it back out of the driveway.

Somehow, Marty had to get that book. It was up to him now.

But what had happened to Doc?

Well, it had taken him a little while, and he had had to swerve at the last minute to avoid getting hit by that hot-rodding teenager, but he was here at last.

Doc wheeled the bike he’d bought a few hours ago into the driveway of 2311 Mason Street. That was the address Marty had given him? Yes, it definitely checked with what Doc had written down in his notebook. But then why was the garage door - the door Marty was supposed to be trapped behind - now sitting open?

Doc supposed this had something to do with how long it took him to get here. Well, it had taken him a little while to buy the bike, after he had figured out that was the best thing to do with what 1955 money he had left. Why, he hadn’t even taken the price tag off the bike, he had been in such a hurry. But then, of course, he needed to buy this hat he was wearing, for disguise purposes of course. Well, it wasn’t much of a disguise, just a hat, but then, Doc hadn’t had much time to buy it.

Even then, though, he would have gotten here earlier if he had been able to take a more direct route. He sighed. That was one of the problems with time travelling. A couple of the roads he had expected to take to get here hadn’t been built yet. And then his muscles had started to complain. That was another trouble with all this time travel - when you sat in a DeLorean all day long, you ended up neglecting much-needed exercise!

So he was a little late. He hoped Marty would understand. That is, if the lad was still here.

Doc pedalled right into the garage. There didn’t seem to be anybody around.

‘Marty?’he called.‘Marty?’

Doc realised then that Biff’s car was gone, too. Marty must have gotten out of here somehow - maybe he had hidden in the back of Biff’s car or something - and was once again on the trail of the Sports Almanac.

But that meant Marty could be anywhere in Hill Valley! Doc decided to try the walkie-talkie. He pulled the box from his pocket and pushed the ‘speak’ button.

‘Marty come in?’

There was no response. He tried it again. Still nothing.

‘Damn!’ What could have happened to the boy? Could he be out of walkie-talkie range? Could something be wrong with his two-way radio?

Doc decided it was useless to conjecture when he had insufficient information. Instead, he decided he would broadcast a message anyway, just in case Marty could hear him but couldn’t reply.

‘Marty,’ he said into the walkie-talkie, ‘if you receive this message, I’m at the garage, but I’ve obviously missed you. Therefore, I am returning to the DeLorean! Contact me when you can! Over and out!’

There was still no reply, and nothing else he could do. Doc turned the bike around, and started the long ride back across town.

Could Marty risk it?

Once Biff had gotten out of his 
driveway, he
 had turned the radio up, loud, and then
 floored it, so that the car was really moving. Marty decided he had to try. Between the radio
and the air rushing by the 
open
 convertible top, Biff shouldn’t be able to hear anything going on in the back seat at all. Should he?

Marty pulled out the walkie-talkie and flipped it on. 'Yo, Doc!’ he called softly. ‘Come in, Doc!

‘Hello?’ Doc’s voice replied. ‘Marty? Come in?’

Doc’s voice was followed by an incredibly loud burst of static. Biff half turned toward the back seat with a ‘what the -’ expression on his face. He must have heard that! Marty turned the walkie-talkie down - way down. Biff looked back at the convertible's radio and started to fiddle with the knobs.' Marty realised with relief that Biff must have thought the static came from up there. Biff ended up turning the radio up even louder.

Maybe, Marty thought, he should try to contact Doc again. He decided to wait a minute first - he didn’t want any more sudden noises to make Biff suspicious. He had to stay as inconspicuous as possible, until he could get that sports book.

Marty wasn’t answering his radio again. He must be somewhere where it was difficult to talk. Doc stuck his walkie-talkie back in his pocket. He would have to concentrate on his pedalling for now and hope that, if Marty called again, there would be something he could do to help.

’Great Scott!’ Doc exclaimed. He’d been so busy talking to Marty, he hadn’t realised where he had pedalled to.

He stopped the bike and stared.

He was in Courthouse Square, on that night in 1955 when this whole thing had begun. There it was in front of him, all the parts of the so-called ‘lightning experiment’ - in reality a set-up to return Marty and the time-machine back where they belonged, in 1985. If only he had left well enough alone after that! Oh well. It was no use cursing crossed wires. They had already saved themselves, and members of Marty’s family, more than once by using time travel. They would get through these problems, too - somehow.

In the meantime, though, he was here, at the site of his first great triumph. Now, the sooner he got back to the DeLorean, the better, but - it wouldn’t hurt to relive this experience for just a minute, would it? As he recalled, it was Thomas Wolfe who had said ‘You can’t go home again’. Well, maybe you couldn’t, but if you had a time machine, you could get awfully damn close!

There it was, the wire running down from the clock tower to the lamppost, and the toolbox on the trailer, sitting next to the DeLorean hidden under the tarpaulin. It gave Doc a thrill just to see everything set up again. Wasn’t science wonderful?

Wait a minute - there on the tarp - that was his coat, or at least the coat he wore in 1955 - well, when he was originally in 1955. Whatever. He reached his hand forward to check the pocket. Yep. The letter was in there, the one Marty had written about Doc’s future. There was the envelope - ‘Do Not Open Until 1985!’ And Doc knew enough now to leave it there.

But it was time to get back on his bike and return to ; the DeLorean, before something else happened.

His walkie-talkie squelched to life.

‘Yo, Doc, come in!’ Marty called. ‘Are you there?’ Doc pulled the radio out of his pocket, quickly turning the volume down. He didn’t want the noise to attract any undue attention - especially around here.

‘Marty! ’ Doc whispered into the microphone. ‘What happened? I went to Biff’s house, but you weren’t there!’

‘You must have just missed me ,’  Marty whispered back. ‘I'm in the back of Biff's car. He's driving to the school.'

To the school? Doc didn't like the sound of that.

'Listen, Marty, we may have to abort this entire plan. It's getting much too dangerous.'

'Don't worry, Doc,' Marty reassured him. 'The book is on biff's dashboard. I'll be able to grab it as soon as we get to the "Enchantment Under the Sea" dance.'

What? This was even worse!

You’re going to the dance?' he asked, his voice growing louder as panic threatened to set in. ‘Marty, you must be extremely careful not to run into your other self!'

‘My other self?’ Marty asked.

‘Yes,' Doc continued, ‘remember? Your mother is on her way to that exact same dance with you! ’

‘Oh. ' Marty’s voice sounded a little surprised.

‘Yeah, that’s right! Hey, that’s cool. Doc. Maybe I’ll say hello to myself.'

‘No!’ Doc felt like he might have a heart attack. ‘Marty, whatever happens, you must not let your other self see you. The consequences could be disastrous!

‘Excuse me, sir!’ a voice said behind him - a voice that was disturbingly familiar. Where had he heard - Doc glanced behind him and saw himself - well, a different version of himself, circa 1955 - emerging from under the tarp. Yes! He remembered. He had worked inside the car on that night. And then he had - come out!