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Chapter Thirteen

Brown Mansion

Doc’s mind reeled. Marty had arrived. It was going to be a long seventeen-year wait to finally talk to him about events that happened thirteen years ago. It was a lot to think about, but unfortunately he had other headaches today.

Gary came in. Doc immediately jumped up. He’d sent the young Dawsons out with Christine to keep them occupied after a weird day delivering Mrs. McFly to the hospital, and Doc himself tried to prepare things for their departure.

"Is everyone else back yet?" Doc jumped up.

"No, Chris took them to a movie." Gary sighed. He’d been in a weird mood that day…nothing too strange, just…sad.

"A movie?"

"Yeah, a movie."

"A movie?"

"Yes! What’s so criminal?"

"What kind of movie was it? Information in a film could potentially expose them to knowledge of the future!"

"Christine’s movie picks aren’t generally filled with useful information."

"Just—" Christine busted in and cut Doc off.

"Hey, kids!" Doc grabbed her by the arms. "Whoa! Hey, I don’t have any drugs. Calm down. In fact, look at what excellent youth I am, all day with my grandparents."

"What kind of movie did you take your grandparents to? Did it have any information pertaining to the past fifty-six years?"

"…are you talking serious information?

"What do you mean?" Doc asked warily. Christine didn’t answer, but Jack and Rose did when they paraded in a moment later—singing.

"Springtime for Hitler and Germany! Winter for Poland and France! Deutschland is happy and gay! We’re marching to a faster pace! Look out…here comes the master race! Springtime for Hitler and Germany! Winter for Poland and France! Springtime for Hitler and Germany! Come on Germans, go into your dance!"

Doc screamed. Gary smacked his head.

"You should see it. It’s great…you’ve never seen anything like it." Christine couldn’t look Doc or Gary in the eye.

"I’m sure those two to haven’t either." Doc gestured to Rose and Jack.

"No, we haven’t!" Rose said enthusiastically.

"You know," said Jack. "I knew a kid named Adolf back in Paris…now there was a sore, sour son of a bitch if I ever met one. He was an artist, too…wasn’t bad either, but he couldn’t draw people. They’d always come out funny."

"I’m sure there’s a Freudian explanation for that."

"Anyway, what did he do?"

Doc, Gary, and Christine stared blankly at Jack.

"Pop, you did not know Adolf Hitler," Christine said, in the hopes of proving him wrong.

"Yes, I did. Lived in a garret near mine. Got into a fistfight with him. Got him pretty good."

"And why, pray tell, didn’t you kill him?" Christine demanded. Jack took a step back.

"Okay. We can’t talk about this. There’s no use. We just can’t…ever again…any of you," Gary declared.

There was a long, very uncomfortable silence for about four minutes.

"And what’s been so wrong with you today?" Christine suddenly demanded of her brother, trying, in her way at least, to break the silence.

"Remember Bobby Pickett…kid on the soccer team…graduated last year?"

"Yeah." Christine nodded.

"He was killed…Khe Sanh."

"Wow." Christine sat down. "Bobby Pickett’s dead."

Jack and Rose exchanged quizzical looks. Khe Sanh? What was that? Doc looked at them and then the twins. They were obviously bent on talking about poor Bobby Pickett, but their grandparents couldn’t hear it. To Doc, it was like obscenities in front of the children.

"It’s not fair to guys like Bobby," sighed Gary. Doc moved his hand in front of his neck, giving him the signal to stop talking. Gary continued, "I was talking to him once. He was thinking of going to community college, but he just wasn’t good at school. You know, if he just went to school, he’d be alive right now. I’m never going to over there. I’m a good student, so I’ll be in college, and I’m the only son of an only son. It’s not fair. If he did come back, people would call him a baby killer. What makes me so much more deserving than guys like Bobby Pickett?"

"Nothing. If you feel so bad, go sign up for the war," Christine challenged him. Gary sat down; no, he couldn’t do that.

Doc sat flopped down on the couch. Beautiful. Just beautiful. He was really sorry about young Bobby, but where was that boy’s head? His grandparents were right there!

Doc was ready to pull Gary aside and give him one of his fanatical lectures. Your sister showed them a movie about World War II…sort of…not really, but it was about a musical about Hitler! You openly talked about Bobby Pickett down in Vietnam now! Why don’t you tell them about the next war! Tell Lt. Jack about his hysterical blindness that he had for two months! I’m sure he’d love to hear that! Gary, are you out of your mind? All right. Good speech: calm, logical, and concise…well, concise, at least. That’s all he needed to give Gary what he need to shut up.

He got and walked over to Gary. "We need to have a verbal exchange."

"Hey, there’s a ’46 Ford parked outside…" Christine interrupted. Doc ran to the window…and screamed.

"What?" everyone shouted.

Gary leaned out the window. "Uh…guys…"

"Oh, no. Tannens and friends." Christine sneered.

"Hey…" Rose pointed. Jack furrowed his brow.

"It’s not him," said the other three in unison, and they looked back to the window.

"Anybody wanna go investigate?" Christine asked, looking for volunteers. "Jesus, they have the frigging almanac…well…had." Christine smiled, thinking of her accomplishment in retrieving the almanac. "What else do they want?"

"Answers," Gary said.

"That’s deep, Gary," said his sister.

"This smells like trouble," Jack thought aloud.

"Thank you for that brilliant observation, Captain Obvious."

Rose was on the verge of telling Christine not to talk to her grandfather like that, but she held her tongue for fear of sounding like her mother.

Doc pulled out a pair of binoculars from his jacket. Yup, both Tannens…all their friends.

"Great Scott!"

The Tannens and their respective goons went into the garage.

"Great Scott! The time machine!"

"Hey, that guy looks like—" Rose began again…or so she tried.

"We’ve got to get them out of here and make sure they don’t get their hands on anything!" Doc proclaimed.

"Right-o. Doc, you’re the brains. What’s the plan?"

"I’m formulating one at this moment…just give me a moment or so." Doc began frantically pacing.

Jack knew this was time for some serious messy business. Fabri would be perfect for this; they’d gotten into all sorts of stuff like this before…he thought that for a moment, but no. He’d seen him a few times over the past few days in 1968. Things were a little weird, even if they were amusingly novel, Jack being fifty-six years younger and all. Better leave Fabrizio home for this one.

"I think I’ve got a plan! I’ve got a plan!" Doc jumped up. He ran into his study to get something, motioning everyone to come with him.

"Well, boys, I reckon this is it—nuclear combat toe to toe with the Rooskies." Christine smiled and followed the others.

Chapter Fourteen
Stories