Installment five – Courage

It feels like a whole flock of albatrosses have been released in my stomach. Lorraine, beautiful, gorgeous Lorraine is looking into my eyes, walking with me to the gym. "George," she whispers, and the very sound of my name coming from her lips short-circuits my brain. "Thank you," I hear distantly, and all I can look at are her eyes, brown as warm chocolate and as intense as fire, as she puts her hand on my arm.

I can't even remember how to speak; I can barely remember how to breathe. After nearly an entire week of trying, Lorraine knows who I am, and I can see in her eyes…she's chosen me. She's actually chosen me!

The band starts up again with a gentle tune, and something seems different but I just can't be bothered to look when this vision of beauty stands before me. "Let's dance," she suggests softly.

"Oh…um…yeah, yeah," I stammer, finally finding my voice. Lorraine smiles sweetly and leads me out onto the dance floor. I almost forget how to dance, but she doesn't seem to mind, so neither do I.

"George," she says after what seems like an eternity, "aren't you going to kiss me?"

Oohhhhhh… "I…I don't know," I stutter helplessly. Kiss her? I…I'm not sure if I can do that. Punching Biff was one kind of courage, but this…could I…?

A rude shove on my shoulder jolts me out of my daze. "Scram, McFly, I'm cuttin' in," the freckled face of Dixon sneers at me as he pushes me out of the way. All my hopes deflate as quickly as a popped balloon, and I distantly hear an awful sound like nothing I've ever heard before.

Well…I guess I tried. My shoulders slump as I turn towards the stage, hearing Dixon's laugh behind my back. Despairing, my eyes move up to the stage…and suddenly I can't help but freeze.

I don't know why, but Marty was playing with the band, and the awful noise is coming from him. As I watch in horror, he holds his hand up in front of his face, revealing its strange transparency. Distantly, I hear Lorraine calling my name as Marty slowly slides to the floor of the stage, doubling over his guitar. As his face contorts in pain and the rest of his body begins to fade, I can just barely hear his voice.

"George…"

And suddenly, I know what I must do, and why. Gathering every iota of courage I have, I spin around and step up to Dixon. "Excuse me," I growl brazenly. Before I can even think about hesitating, I shove him as I hard as I can, knocking him to the floor. I gently pull Lorraine into my arms again, tilting her face upwards towards mine. Her eyes fill with hope, and fireworks seem to explode in my brain as our lips finally meet.

It's everything I've ever wanted, needed, all in such a simple yet meaningful gesture. A strange feeling wells up in my chest, and I finally break the kiss. "Oh George," she murmurs, and I feel like I'm king of the world.

"Lorraine," I breathe back, all my fears forgotten. I hold her close to me, savoring the feeling of her body against mine for a long moment.

As we sway in time with the music, I have to look up at the stage. To my relief, Marty is totally intact and playing the guitar again with a look of relief on his face. As our eyes meet, I raise one hand slightly in thanks. I don't know why, but he seems to depend on my love for Lorraine for his existence, but he deserves to be thanked nonetheless. I can never repay him for this.

He waves back, looking surprised to have his hand opaque again, and gives me a look of intense gratitude before turning back to his playing.

The song comes to a close all too soon, but Lorraine doesn't seem inclined to let go of me. I certainly won't complain anymore.

"All right, let's do another one!" the lead singer exclaims to Marty, looking thrilled for some unknown reason.

"Uh, well, I gotta go," Marty admits, preparing to hand the guitar over.

"Come on, man," the black man persists. "Let's do something that really cooks."

Please, Marty, I owe you so much. Please stay… Unwilling to let him leave so soon, I start to clap. "Yes, encore!" I shout boldly, and the people around me follow my lead.

Marty looks surprised as the whole gym begins applauding for him to play just one more song. "Something that…really cooks," he murmurs, clearly taken aback. He catches my gaze once more, and I nod encouragingly. Marty, you gave me courage to do something I never could've done on my own. Now it's your turn.

He smiles and nods at me, settling the guitar back into place. "All right," he announces and the crowd quiets, "all right, this is an oldie, but, uh…" Even I have to blink at that, the term totally unfamiliar. A…what? Perhaps…that's a type of music from his home planet. Yes, that's the only thing that makes sense. "Well, it's an oldie where…where I come from," he corrects himself, and I have to smile as he turns to direct the musicians. Whatever is to come, it's sure to be like nothing I've ever heard.

The notes that pour from the guitar do not disappoint, the intense alien riff reverberating through the entire gym yet somehow pleasing the ear like nothing on Earth. The crowd quickly catches on and invents their own dances, and as Lorraine swings me into a tango-like move I can't help but wonder if anything could ever bring me down from these lofty heights where I feel neither anger nor fear.

Thank you, Marty, for giving me the courage I've always needed; I will never forget it.