"Outatime" - Chapter One

 

            It was a gorgeous, sunny Tuesday morning in Danville, California – the town neighboring Hill Valley. The weather was perfect enough for one Hill Valley resident to skateboard in. Her name was Martha McFly, known mostly as “Marty” to her friends. This 17-year-old redhead was always spotted around town in her signature “Class-5” down vest, its reddish-orange color meshing with her long hair draped over, along with her denim jacket, skintight blue jeans, and faded white Nike shoes.

            Marty had her wireless earbuds in as she rode into the neighborhood that bordered Hill Valley and Danville. Some assumed she was deaf as she passed along the sidewalk and nearly bumped into them. The buds were well-hidden beneath her long fiery locks. All she could hear was the tune of Grand Am playing from her Spotify playlist.

            The specific house she headed for was the Flynn-Fletcher residence – the very home of her two best friends, Phineas and Ferb. Stepbrothers who came from a blended family, Phineas and Ferb were always up to some sort of wacky and creative invention they created in their backyard. Marty had known them ever since she babysat for them one night when their big sister (Phineas’s biological sister), Candace, was unavailable.

            It was crazy to think these were the same two boys that had somehow been hired as technical support for the Ghostbusters in New York. Candace claimed they invented some sort of transporter pod, but Marty never saw it…and neither had their mother, for that matter. But, unlike Linda, Marty had reason to believe they did invent such a thing.

            When she finally arrived at the Flynn-Fletcher’s fenced-in backyard, Marty saw that it was void of any activity. She popped her earbuds out and called, “Hello? Phineas! Ferb! You guys around?” To humor herself, she even asked, “Where’s Perry?”

            Alas, neither of the boy geniuses were there.

            What was there, however, was something Marty should’ve noticed the moment she stepped foot on the Flynn-Fletcher property: two super giant loudspeakers.

            “Whoa!” she exclaimed upon seeing them. “I wonder what these are for.”

            It was clear the giant loudspeakers were another invention of Phineas and Ferb’s. No electronic store would ever sell ones as big as those. They practically towered over the boys’ house!

            Marty couldn’t fathom the exact reason Phineas and Ferb made a super deluxe version of such electronic components, other than to help out with their audition for the “Battle of the Bands” at Hill Valley High. It was happening at the school that same morning, which was one of the primary reasons for Marty’s visit. There was only an hour to kill for rehearsal, but that was not possible without her bandmates.

            Of course, this visit wouldn’t be in vain.

            As Marty stood there alone on the Flynn-Fletchers’ backyard, something caught her hazel-tinted eyes, reflecting off the ruby lenses of her sunglasses.

            An electric guitar.

            It rested at the base of Phineas and Ferb’s favorite tree, lounging exactly where Phineas would’ve been at the time.

            Just because P and F aren’t here to rehearse doesn’t mean I can’t, Marty internally rationalized as she went to the tree and picked up the guitar. After strapping it onto herself, she went to the amplifier, plugged in the guitar, and turned the volume and overdrive knobs to their max levels. She could feel the reverberating hum from the loudspeakers vibrate the ground beneath her feet and even her teeth.

            With her guitar pick raised high above her head, she declared in one voice, “Ready to rock!”

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            “It’s huge, Stacy! If you look out your window right now, you’d probably see it!”

            Candace lied down on the living room sofa, beaming with excitement as she spoke with her best friend, Stacy Hirano, over the phone. “There’s no way the boys are gonna hide it when Mom gets home,” she said with glee. “They are so busted this time!”

            “Well, you’re right about me seeing it from my window,” Stacy said. “But, as far as your Mom seeing it, I highly doubt that.”

            “What do you mean? Of course, she’s gonna see it! Did I mention it’s huge?!”

            “Think, Candace. The mysterious force?”

            “I put that whole thing to rest like a week ago, Stacy. Besides, there’s no force on this earth that can ever—”

            BOOM!

            Candace panicked once she felt her entire house shake. She was also surprised to hear Stacy ask her at that exact time, “Is that an earthquake?!”

            “You feel it, too?!” Candace remarked right before she heard a loud thump come over the glass screen door behind the sofa. The earthquake subsided as she turned to see what made the noise. What she first thought to be a bird that smacked against the glass turned out to be a girl just a couple of years older than her with hair even redder and longer than hers. Her dress sense, on the other hand, was nowhere as classy as Candace’s.

            As soon as Candace realized who this girl was, she frowned and said, “What’s she doing here?”

            She hadn’t intended for her inquiry to be broadcasted over the phone to Stacy, who was prompted to ask, “She who?”

            “Marty McFly,” Candace told her. “She’s in our backyard.”

            “What’s Marty McFly doing in your backyard?” Stacy asked.

            “I don’t know, but I’m gonna find out,” Candace vowed. “Talk later, Stacy.” She hung up her phone and stepped out onto the backyard terrace that her uninvited guest was sprawled over. Standing over the dazed Marty, she brashly blurted out, “What’re you doing here, McFly?!”

            “I’m fine, thanks,” Marty sarcastically groaned.

            At the corner of her eye, Candace noticed an empty space from where Phineas and Ferb’s giant loudspeakers should’ve been. She was shocked to see nothing else but piles of ashes in their place, scattering in the wind until there was nothing left.

            “You have got to be kidding me!” Candace bellowed in her frustration, which she quickly directed over to Marty. “What did you do?!”

            “I cranked that sucker up to eleven and played the power chord to end all power chords,” Marty answered with a smirk. “P&F really know how to build one heck of an amplifier. It just sucks that one’s a little unstable.”

            “A little?!” Candace yelled. “The whole thing’s turned to ash! How is that even possible?!”

            Marty shrugged. “I dunno. Something to do with the vibrations, I guess? If P&F were here, they’d have a better explanation. Where are they anyway?”

            “Don’t change the subject, McFly! I had the perfect bust laid out on our backyard before you came and literally blew it for me!”

            Marty snickered. “Candace, you’re so unbelievable. You’d bust Phineas and Ferb for solving world hunger.”

            “If it’s bust-able, I’d still find a way. And you still haven’t told me why you’re in our backyard.”

            “I was hoping the guys and I would have a little time to rehearse before our ‘Battle of the Bands’ audition within an hour.”

            “Don’t auditions start at 8:30?”

            “Yeah…so? It’s only 7:25. I got plenty of time.”

            Candace mockingly knocked on Marty’s head. “Hello? Anybody home? It’s not 7:25, McFly. It’s 8:25. You’re a whole hour behind.”

            Hearing this, Marty’s face sunk with dread. She reached into her left jeans pocket to take out her phone and check to see if Candace was right. Sure enough, it was 8:25. How Marty mistook the time was a mystery to her – she merely chalked it up to carelessness. With little time to spare, she removed the electric guitar from her body and handed it over to Candace, who held it like it was contaminated.

            “What am I supposed to do with this?” she asked Marty, who was already away from the Flynn-Fletchers’ backyard, skateboarding back to Hill Valley.

            Just because she was late didn’t mean that she couldn’t listen to more tunes along the way. Plugging her earbuds back in, she chose just the right song in her rush for time: “Blinding Lights” by The Weeknd.

            As catchy as the beat was, it wasn’t enough for Marty to get where she needed to be as fast as she wanted. She took a risk and tried a maneuver that once nearly got her arrested by the cops. To do it, she needed just the right vehicle: a pickup truck. Luckily, there was a black 2013 GMC Sierra passing along and heading in the same direction as her. She merged off the sidewalk and into the street, grasping onto the rear of the black pickup. Now she was moving at the same speed as the pickup, shaving off a few minutes or so with this risky maneuver. All she had to do was hold onto the truck, and all the driver had to do was head towards the school.

            The moment Marty and the Sierra pickup were through Courthouse Square, the central point of downtown Hill Valley, she checked her phone again for the time. It was 8:30 on the dot and she was just five minutes from the school. Had she only skateboarded the entire way, it would’ve taken her a whole twenty minutes.

            Unfortunately, her driver friend diverged from their main destination, forcing her to detach from the rear of his pickup and skateboard the rest of the way. She still had five minutes to make it to the school, probably even less with all the shortcuts she knew in and out of the town.

            Marty managed to get to Hill Valley High at exactly 8:36 – only six minutes late. She skidded to a halt near the front steps of the school. Hill Valley High had seen better days in the sixty years it stood. In spite of some graffiti on the lower half exterior and a paint job that was on its last knees, it still looked decent enough.

            It wouldn’t have been possible without men like Mr. Martin, the school’s top custodian. Marty saw him sitting there on the steps, drinking his morning coffee, which he had a slight struggle to keep steady in his grips. It was evident he suffered from Parkinson’s, more than enough reason for him to retire. But he was a strong-willed man, able to carry on his custodial duties in spite of his condition.

            “You’re late, kid,” he told Marty with a bit of a slur in his speech – another part of his condition. “You have any concept of time?”

            “I know, I know,” Marty uttered in her hurry. “Front’s open, isn’t it?”

            “Of course,” Mr. Martin said. “I always keep it open for ya in times like this.”

            Marty breathed a sigh of relief, fighting the urge to hug him. “You’re my guardian angel,” she told him. “Thank you!”

            “You can thank me by nailing that audition,” he returned with a smile.

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            Marty didn’t know why she was so cautious in roaming the halls of Hill Valley High. School was out for the summer, and it wasn’t like she had to worry about summer school. This “Battle of the Bands” was just an extracurricular activity, one that she took great pride in, as it gave her the opportunity to showcase her musical talents to the community.

            It had been a few years since her old band, Lemonade Mouth, disbanded. She was brought in as a replacement for Stella Yamada, the band’s lead guitarist, after she moved to another town. Marty was only 14 years old and Lemonade Mouth’s youngest member. For a while, it all felt like a dream to perform in a band. Unfortunately, it only lasted for a year. The day Olivia (lead singer), Wen (pianist/rapper), Mo (bassist), Charlie (drummer), and Nick (rhythm guitarist) all graduated from Hill Valley High was the day Lemonade Mouth was no more.

            Marty figured her band days were long past her, until Joe Gardner – her music teacher – introduced her to Phineas and Ferb, two creative boys that assisted in supplying Joe with the instruments needed for his class. It was Joe who encouraged the three of them to form a new band, one even better than Lemonade Mouth, and the “Battle of the Bands” was just the place to get it started.

            Mr. Gardner’s class was where she was supposed to meet up with Phineas, Ferb, and Mr. Gardner himself. It didn’t help that the classroom was located at the very back of the campus where hardly anyone knew it existed. Getting there costed another few minutes of time Marty had already wasted.

            She checked her phone again.

            8:42.

            Why do I have to cut these things so close?!

            She could hear the voices of Phineas and Mr. Gardner conversing down the hall (she assumed Ferb was there as well, despite being a man of few words). As soon as she walked in, she cried, “I’m here!”

            “Finally,” Phineas said. “Where’ve you been?”

            “Sorry…I got the hours confused,” Marty sheepishly confessed.

            “Well, I did what I could to buy you kids some time,” Joe said. “You were scheduled to come before Brad Buttowski and his band, but I managed to get you bumped to follow after them.”

            “How long before they go?” Marty asked.

            “In about ten minutes,” Joe told her.

            “Plenty of time to get some practice in,” Phineas said. “I left your guitar over there, Marty.” He pointed to one corner of the classroom where Marty’s guitar was still in its case, leaning against the wall.

            “Awesome!” Marty was just about to go to it until…

            “Hey, McFly!”

            She winced as she heard that aggressive call. It was the bane of her existence every day from the moment she first stepped foot in Hill Valley High. As much as she hated to, she turned and faced the one who beckoned her: Tiff Tannen, Hill Valley High’s gym teacher and part-time administrator.

            Tannen was a rather robust woman in her late-fifties with short graying hair and a face full of wrinkles. For as long as Marty had known her, she was always wearing a karate gi, despite karate not being on any of the school’s curriculum or having a dojo of her own to run on the weekends.

            “That’s your fourth tardy, McFly,” she reprimanded Marty.

            “What’re you talking about, Coach?” Gardner confronted her. “School’s out.”

            “Tardy’s still tardy, Gardner!” Tannen barked. She then refocused her vitriol back on Marty, adding Phineas and Ferb to the mix. “I heard you three lame ducks are auditioning for the Battle of the Bands.”

            “Yeah,” Marty retorted. “What business is it of yours?”

            “‘Cause I’m one of the judges, butthead,” Tannen said, much to the chagrin of Marty. “And, if I’m bein’ honest here, I don’t think you punks stand a snowball’s chance in hell.”

            “Hey, ease up, Coach!” Gardner demanded. “Can you at least try to be professional?”

            “I’m just statin’ the facts, Gardner,” Tannen professed.

            “Well, here’s a fact for you,” Phineas spoke up. “Our mom once auditioned for Battle of the Bands at this same school.”

            Tannen scoffed. “You mean that one-hit wonder, Lindana? That’s rich, kid. Just face it – no way history’s ever gonna repeat with you buttheads!”

            “That’s just it, Coach,” Marty vehemently addressed. “We’re not here to repeat history. We’re here to change it.”