Your Friend In Time

(Josie Sayz: This is a follow up to my post ‘Outta Time’ (if you missed ‘Outta Time’ you can find it here: https://josiesayz.blogspot.co.uk/2014/11/outta-time.html). I’m not 100% sure on it, but I am content with it at the moment. I apologise for any American history inaccuracies – not my expertise, sorry. Disclaimer: I do not own ‘Back to the Future’, its characters or the film events that are mentioned in my creative piece.)

November 5^th, 2015

Dear Marty,

I know it’s been a while – too long, in fact, but I’ve finally found it in me to leave you a message. Believe me, Marty, isolating myself from you for all these years has been tough – I daresay, one of the toughest decisions that I have ever had to make my whole life. I hope that you understand why I had to do this, Marty; it was for your own safety. I had feared that the perpetual time travel which you experienced might lead to later psychological dysfunctions. I did not want you transfixed on the changes that we had made or on changing the past. I did not want you to become reliant upon changing the outcome of past or future events. Also, I felt that seeing me may resurface too many unpleasant memories.

That does not mean that I have forgotten about you, Marty. As every day goes by, I think of you and Jennifer and the life that the two of you now lead. I know that I shouldn’t, but on occasion, whilst time travelling, I often stop by and see how you are doing. A rock star, ‘ey, Marty? It’s just as I always told you: If you put your mind to it, you can accomplish anything. You have two wonderful kids, Marty. Many a time I have stopped by Hill Valley High and caught a glimpse of Marty Junior and Marlene. Junior is the spitting image of you, although you may need to help him out with the girls – there’s this red-head that he’s been having trouble talking to; he almost reminds me of your pop. Marlene’s a hard working student, straight A’s from what I can tell. You and Jennifer must be so proud.

Since we last met you must be, good gracious, forty-seven? Great Scott! I just realised the significance of this date! Is it really 2015 already? Where has the time gone? Strange, not at all like it was on our previous encounter. I’m sat in downtown Hill Valley, at the ‘Café 80s’ (nicely done-out by the way) but nothing is as I remember it. What happened to the flying cars, the cyborgs, self-altering clothing, barcode licence plates, Mr. Fusion-powered automobiles and those hoverboards that you were so fond of? The hover conversion! It would never have happened?! And what about my body alterations that I undertook at the rejuvenation clinic during my earlier visit to the twenty-first century? I added thirty to forty years onto my life, replaced my spleen and colon and what about my blood alteration? If that no longer exists, what will become of me now?

Great Scott! Marty, what have we done? I know that by traveling the courses of time, we accidentally changed parts of mine, yours and your parents’ future, but I didn’t think we had unsettled the space time continuum so vastly. Okay, okay, I need to take into account all of the people whose lives we may have altered. It wouldn’t have been you, no offence Marty, but the old you from the alternate 2015 was a slacker (I’m sure Mr. Strickland would agree) and would never have come up with the ingenuity of such creations as the ones that we encountered thirty years ago. And it wasn’t Jennifer’s doing. Going back in time further should not have interfered with your parents’ or your brother and sister’s careers (none of them appeared to hold any interest in the sciences, apart from your pop, but he was more into the science-fiction than actual construction. Nevertheless, our return to 1955 should not have altered your father’s career choice). Unless you severely interacted with anyone when we returned to 1955 to steal the almanac back from Biff and – Great Scott, it couldn’t have been Biff whom created all those things, could it? No, no, no, no, no! It couldn’t be Biff; we stopped him from making money and he’s too incompetent to create such things – just think of the amount of times he had your pop write his reports or do his homework. That only leaves… oh no, oh dear… it can’t be. It can’t be; it just can’t – can it? Could it be me? Am I the one to blame? Am I the one who invented all those amazing things? Now without me – Great Scott, this is heavy (as you would say). I am sorry future; maybe I should never have abandoned you. Oh Marty, how stupid I have been. For a man of science, I just gave up on the projects, the discovery, the new creations… I can tell you everything from the past. I can tell you every inch of the American Revolution, all the secrets that they don’t want you to know about the Civil War and the secret campaign behind the election of George Washington. I was even there to witness the signing of the Declaration of Independence! But how I have missed modern technology – well it is probably ancient technology to you today. The simple everyday items, like cornflakes, instant coffee, pop-up toasters, stainless steel and good-quality cotton underwear are all things that I have been without until their creation or have invented myself. Oh what a waste that now feels, inventing something that has already been invented. Yes, I may have done it better, but what a waste of my time, of my talents. With your modern resources and my scholarly knowledge, I could have invented so much more. Why, I could have invented a flying car. I should have invented the flying car – and more.

Oh Marty, I feel as though I have let you down greatly. Not only you, but I have let the future down as well. As a scientist, I should not have allowed my own personal gain to interfere with the space time continuum. I am married to my work. I should have thought with my head. Something that has worried me far too frequently Marty, by going back in time, settling down with Clara and having children, because I was born in the future, that makes Jules and Vern older than me. Clara gave birth to our eldest in 1886, yet I was not born until 1920. Oh Marty, sometimes I feel like I have made a terrible mistake. What sort of scientist alters history, like this? What sort of scientist alters the future, like this? What have I done?

Clara is the love of my life. I know that I would never have found love and settled down, like I did, had I continued to live in your present day. She means everything to me, Marty. She is object of my affection, the light of my life, the apple of my eye. And our children, Marty – Jules and Vern, they are my world. Jules has taken after his old man. He now runs my Blacksmith’s shop and has even taken an interest in inventing and little Vern has become the town sheriff. Clara and I couldn’t be more proud. We are both doing well too. We have long retired and are enjoying the quiet life of relaxation in 1915 – time travelling whenever the opportunity arises.

I do miss you, Marty. You are a big part of my life and still hold a special place in my heart. I hope that you can find it in yourself to forgive me.

Your friend in time,

‘Doc’ Emmett L. Brown

November 5^th, 1915

- Josie -

Outta Time

(Josie Sayz: This is a flash-fiction piece that I wrote about my favourite film ‘Back to the Future’. I chose to post it today (November, 5^th) to honour Doctor Emmett Brown’s vision of the flux capacitor. Disclaimer: I do not own ‘Back to the Future’, its characters or the film events that are mentioned in my creative piece. My fan-fiction piece is also available on: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/10804922/1/Outta-Time.)

Outta Time

5^th November 2013

Dear Doc Brown,

Jeez Doc, it’s been so long since I last saw you. Yet, I feel like I can still remember it as though it happened only last week. I can’t possibly tell you how much I miss you, Doc. It’s been nearly thirty years. Gosh, when I actually put pen to paper it makes me feel so old. I bet you noticed the significance in the date of me writing this. I thought today would be the perfect date to write to you. Today always brings back the memories. Believe me, Doc, I wanted to sit and write to you more times than you could ever imagine, but one thing’s always stopped me: how can you write to a guy who’s been dead over eighty years? I know that you managed to get that letter to me in the fifties from 1885 (that I can just about cope with), but how do you go about sending a letter back in time? Why did I have to get that DeLorean totalled by that train? That way I could have used it to go back and visit you. Heck Doc, you have a flying steam train! Why the hell didn’t you come back and visit me? It’s not like I’d have meddled in another of your adventures or anything – I’m way through with time travel… but that doesn’t mean you had to push me out of your life forever, does it? I guess you probably were better off without me, I mean over the time we spent together I managed to nearly screw up nearly a hundred and thirty years of history. It doesn’t surprise me that you never wanted to come back and see me… or forward to see me… oh, you get what I mean. Maybe something happened to the time machine. Maybe you destroyed it, like you asked me to destroy the DeLorean. You could have at least warned me first.

Where do I start, Doc, you’ve missed so much. Me and Jennifer got married, we’ve got two great kids, Marlene and Marty Junior. And let me tell you, Marty Junior’s nothing like the wimpy kid that I met back in the old 2015. And my job, well, Doc, you should see me. For a start, I’m not pushover like my old man and I don’t go to an office everyday either and I don’t have Needles hanging over my head. On the day I arrived back (for the last time) in 1985, I never challenge Needles in that drag race and I never broke my arm. You were right, my future wasn’t already written and I could change it – heck, I did. And you’ll never guess what, Doc, ‘The Pinheads’ made it big. We were rock stars, jamming on stages all over the world. We were huge. There were sell out concerts, screaming fans, flights to LA, Hollywood, a European tour, loads of cash, did I mention the millions of screaming fans? It was heavy, Doc, you should have seen it. But just like everything… it never lasted. After five good years, the band broke up. We all went our separate ways. I went solo, had a few number one hits, a couple of number one albums – one went platinum. Doc it was amazing. I could never have imagined that just changing the outcome of that drag race with Needles could have changed the future, my future, so much. I’ve retired from the limelight a little now to spend as much time as possible with the kids, but I still go out and play a few shows here and there and do a few charity gigs.

My parents, Dave and Linda are doing great too. Dave’s a deputy-manager of a big up-town company – who’d have known. And Linda owns her own hair salon down town. Mom’s happily retired, enjoying the quiet life and Dad, well Doc, you should see him. Not only is he the boarding director of a massive marketing company – still even though he’s in his seventies, but he’s a famous sci-fi novelist. I know you said not to meddle, but getting George to stand up to Biff was probably the best thing I’ve ever done for the man. I bet you’re wondering about Biff too, huh? Well he’s not exactly the wimp that I met when we went back to 1985 the first time, but he’s not as aggressive as he used to be either. He was Dad’s PA until about a decade ago when he retired. He’s in some local retirement home now and his kids… well let’s just say his grandson isn’t a cyborg. But they are the local bullies – just like Biff and his gang back in 1955 I dare say. I mean, I don’t see much of them but Marlene and Junior mention him and his lot from time to time. They’re yet to get mixed up with him and his gang, which hopefully means that the Hill Valley bank heist of 2015 will never happen – fingers crossed. Junior’s nothing like the loser he was when I met him before, so let’s just hope things say that way. Besides, I wouldn’t have you to come help me – I mean him, out this time if things go bad.

How are you, Doc? You’ve got to be pushing ninety now – well you would if you were still here, with me in 2013. How are Clara, Jules and Verne? And how’s about Einie, Doc? I mean I’ve looked you guys up in the history books, but that’s nothing compared to actually hearing from you myself. Don’t worry, I won’t dwell too much – I know how you say no one should know too much about their own destiny.

There’s something else you should know, being as you stayed back in 1885, when I came back to 1985, your house, The Brown’s Mansion, hadn’t been destroyed by fire in the sixties. It was all still there, except it was empty and all boarded off. By staying in 1885, Doc, you must have created some sort of time paradox (or something or other that you were always warning me about), because it’s like you never existed, only in history. There’s no record of you alive and living in 1985… or 1955. It’s like the mansion was just left, abandoned. I tried racking my brain for years over this: just because you went back in time to 1885, doesn’t mean that you weren’t born in 1920 to your parents, right? So does that mean that somehow you managed to meet your parents and convince them not to meet, or not to have you? Or did they have you and you managed to stop the fire that destroyed your house? I haven’t got a clue what happened, Doc. For years I tried to find out what had happened to you, to the house, but there just isn’t any record of you existing anymore in 1985, 1955 or anywhere after the you who I left for 1885 dies. However, after becoming a rock ‘n’ roll star and earning enough money, I actually bought The Brown Mansion and restored it to its former 1950s glory. I even kept its name to remind me of you. I even taught my kids all about you. I’m not entirely sure that they believe me about the time travel thing, but they do respect your house and we, well I, visit your grave regularly. That probably sounds kind of creepy, I know, and don’t worry, I know that you don‘t want to know how, why or when it happened, so I’ll spare you the details.

But out of everything that’s happened, Doc, there’s one thing that’s been bugging me: the future isn’t what it was. I know I changed my life and everything, but I’m not talking about that, I mean the world’s changed. There are no flying cars, no fast drying clothes, no hydrated pizza, no one-size-adjusts-to-all jackets, no DNA readers for front door locks. Doc, these screwballs haven’t even invented the hoverboard yet. And there’s no sign of cyborgs anywhere! There had been times when I could talk to Jennifer about this stuff, about the future, about what we’d seen, but now she refuses to admit that the whole time travel thing ever happened – she’s just wrote it off as a bad dream. I’m so alone here, Doc. There’s no one to turn to who wouldn’t think that I’m a nut. That’s one of the reasons why I’m writing to you, Doc: Have you ever been surrounded by people, but still felt so lonely.

Now I know we went back in time to 1885, but I didn’t think I’d screwed it up that badly that I could have changed what 2015 will be like. Okay so maybe a beat Buford, saved Hill Valley from living in fear, stopped you from being shot but hey, you’re the one who stopped Miss Clara Clayton from falling down the ravine. Now it’s called the Eastwood Ravine, Doc, not the Clayton Ravine – as in me, ‘Clint Eastwood’, I still can’t get used to it.

But I’ve been thinking about it. Why’s everything different? Well not too different, I mean ‘Nike’ have just invented self-tying shoes (about time) and they actually have 1980s vintage diners – although a virtual image of Michael Jackson doing the moonwalk doesn’t actually serve you, but the colours, music and food are all there. They’re just lacking so far behind in technology. But then it hit me: you. You, Doc, are the reason that technology hasn’t progressed. You were the one who should have invented cyborgs, and hydrated pizza and flying cars and DNA front door locks and hoverboards. Doc we need you. I need you. The future needs you. We’re running out of time. October 21^st 2015 isn’t that far away, Doc, and the world’s nothing like it was when we visited it almost thirty years ago – it’s taken a serious downgrade.

You know Doc, not a day goes by when I don’t think about you or the adventures that we had. I have no idea if you’ll ever get this – I’ve never had to send a letter back in time before. I’m not even sure what to do with it really. All I know is I miss you, and I mean really miss you, Doc. If there is any way that you can send me a sign, hop by in your stream train (the rail line is still where it always has been), a letter to the Post Office from 1885… 1880-anything – even 1909, anything Doc, seriously. It’s driving me crazy. There’s no way that I’ll ever forget you, Doc. I just hope that you haven’t forgotten me.

Your friend always,

Marty McFly

- Josie -