Author's Note: This story is written in response to September's Challenge of last year. Marty spends an evening bonding with Seamus and Maggie McFly.

September 3, 1885
9:00 AM PST

Marty McFly was staying with his great-great-grandparents, Seamus and Maggie McFly, on their farm. Marty had assumed the identity of Clint Eastwood, as revealing his real name to the townsfolk could seriously affect the future - and possibly create a paradox. While Marty wasn't too fond of this era, he has become rather fond of his ancestors. Seamus even looked a little like Marty, except that he had reddish-brown hair. Seamus had found Marty, after Marty had crashed into the fence surrounding the McFlys' farm - as Marty was running away from some Indians and a bear.

"Do you like pancakes, Mr. Eastwood?" asked Seamus, as he was mixing up the pancake batter.

"Oh, I love pancakes!" Marty exclaimed. He disliked the meal that was being served yesterday, but he figured that pancakes wouldn't taste much different. Marty figured that, as long as he stayed away from meat, most anything else would be edible.

"Do you like raspberry cordial, Mr. Eastwood?" asked Maggie.

"Well, I've never had it before," replied Marty, "but I'll try some. I am a bit thirsty."

Maggie than poured a large glassful of raspberry cordial for Marty. Marty lifted the glass to his lips, and took a little sip. He thought it tasted pretty good.

"Thank you," Marty said, smiling. "This is very good cordial."

"Do you know how to play checkers, Mr. Eastwood?" asked Seamus.

"Yeah, I think I do," Marty said, with some uncertainty. He wasn't sure if the game would be played any differently back in 1885.

"Would you like to play checkers with me?" asked Seamus. Then, turning to Maggie, he added, "Can you put some music on the gramophone, please? We could use some music in here. Do you like music, Mr. Eastwood?"

"Oh, I love music!" gushed Marty. Even though Marty's primary interest was in rock and roll music, he was able to appreciate other kinds of music. The music that came over the gramophone wasn't half bad, Marty thought. He did miss his rock and roll music, though.

Seamus then went to grab to checker board, and set up the pieces on the table. Then he went to pour some lemon drops into a bowl.

"Do you like lemon drops, Mr. Eastwood?" asked Seamus. "Do you mind being red?"

"Oh, I love lemon drops," Marty gushed. "Red is fine with me. I'm not real fussy."

"Just when it comes to food?" Seamus teased.

"I just don't care for meat all that much," Marty said, which was partially true.

"But meat is good for you," insisted Seamus. "A man needs meat in order to be strong."

Marty just rolled his eyes. He never understood why so many people equated eating meat with masculinity - like men who didn't care for meat were somehow considered to be less masculine. Then, again, Marty felt that gender roles were highly overrated. Marty never really cared much for sports, as music was more his passion. Marty also loved baking, which was often considered a female's activity.

Also, while Marty never felt comfortable with crying in public, he felt that crying was a good emotional release, and that men should not be shamed for crying. Marty felt that one of the causes for violent outbursts, which often lead to domestic abuse of women, was the way that men were encouraged to lash out in anger instead of having a good cry. Marty glanced over at Seamus, and smiled. He couldn't fathom Seamus ever resorting to violence. Seamus was a very soft-spoken fellow. Men could be tough and strong without being violent, couldn't they?

"Are you fine, Mr. Eastwood?" Seamus asked, gently. "You seem to be real deep in thought. What's on your mind, if I might ask?"

"I guess I was just thinking about gender roles," explained Marty, "and how they are a bit overrated. I mean, I don't understand why should people be limited in how they express themselves, according to gender. Why can't people just follow their hearts, and be who they are, without being judged by other people for it?"

"You know, Mr. Eastwood," Seamus said, smiling, "I completely agree with you. First of all, I don't reckon that it's right that women can't vote. I mean, women are people, too - and they deserve to be treated with dignity and respect."

"Right, I certainly can't argue that," replied Marty. "I certainly can't deny that women do get the shaft in many ways, in this day and age. However, in other ways, we men are also repressed. I mean, it's considered unmanly to cry, for instance."

"You certainly do make a valid point, Mr. Eastwood," Seamus agreed. "I do cry some of the time, and I make no apologies for it. I sometimes feel ashamed of my gender, because some of us act out in violent ways. It is a great shame that men who prefer peace over strife get condemned as being sissy-boys. However, I make it a point to just stick by my principles, and not give a toss of what other people think. I swear that we, as a society, can be awfully judgemental of other people."

"I must say, Mr. Eastwood," added Maggie, "you certainly do speak words of wisdom. I must admit that, when I first saw you yesterday, I thought that you were a little bit strange. I now heartily apologize, though, for judging you. Some of your mannerism might seem a little unusual to us, but it does not mean you're a bad person. Will you forgive me?'

"Of course, Mrs. McFly," Marty said, smiling.

"So are the two of you hungry?" Maggie asked. "The pancakes are just about ready."

"Yeah, I'm feeling pretty famished," replied Marty. "Thank you for taking me in."

"You are very welcome," replied Maggie. "So where did you meet your blacksmith friend? Within the last eight months that we've know him, he was a great person."

"Well, I am a little worried about him," Marty said, sighing. "You see, I'm here to prevent him from being shot by Buford Tannen next Monday."

"How do you know he'll be shot on Monday?" Maggie asked, confused.

"I, uh, I received a vision from God," explained Marty. "It is my sacred duty to do everything I can do to save my friend's life."

"You certainly are a very special young man, Mr. Eastwood," Maggie said, smiling. "It's been a real pleasure to meet you. So how long do you plan to stay in town?"

"You know, I think God placed you in our path for a very special reason," added Seamus. "So, Mr. Eastwood, how long will you be around.'

"Uh, well," stammered Marty, "I'm hoping that we'll to be able to leave before next Monday. We have to, uh, head back home to San Francisco."

"Well, we will certainly miss you when you go," Seamus said, softly. "I reckon even William really enjoys your presence. I mean, he usually doesn't take to strangers to well."

"Yeah, he's a very precious little baby," gushed Marty. "I bet he will grow up to be a very fine young man."

"Now, let's have some pancakes and maple syrup, shall we?" Maggie asked, smiling.

"Oh, absolutely!" replied Marty, with a smile.

"I'm so hungry, I could eat a horse," remarked Seamus.

"Would you like some more cordial, Mr. Eastwood?" asked Maggie.

"Oh, yes, please," Marty said, smiling at Maggie.

Then Maggie sat down at the table with Seamus and Marty - and all three of them piled their plates high with pancakes. Marty smiled warmly at his ancestors.