“She’s not doing a very good job, is she?” Marty laughed, sliding his arm behind her back. “Terrible…”
“Wonderful…”
They were standing with their hips touching, about to kiss…
“Save the clock tower!” a grating voice suddenly ordered, causing them to jerk apart.
Simultaneously, a donation can was placed between the two teenagers. It rattled hollowly, as if there were only two or three lonely coins inside.
“Save the clock tower!” the voice repeated.
Jennifer and Marty turned to look at the person who had interrupted them. She was a middle-aged church-type woman with prematurely blue hair. Her
upper lip, Marty noted with just a touch of revulsion, was covered with nearly enough fine hair to provide an aspiring young man with a decent mustache. Under her arm were dozens of printed flyers.
“Please make a donation to save the clock tower,” the woman said, rattling the can again.
“Lady, can’t you see I’m busy here?” Marty asked. Ordinarily, he would have been pleasant to the interloper, but the events of the day had worn his nerves to a frazzle.
The woman was not put off by his lack of interest, however. Stepping between the two youngsters, she addressed them with swiveling head.
“Mayor Wilson is sponsoring an initiative to save or repair that clock,” she intoned, pointing to the stopped clock mounted high on the old courthouse tower. “We at the Hill Valley Preservation Society think it should be preserved exactly the way it is, as part of our history and heritage. Thirty years ago, lightning struck that clock tower and the clock hasn’t run since. We at the society feel it’s a landmark of scientific importance, attesting to the power of the Almighty.”
Marty took a deep breath, preparatory to interrupting her spiel, but apparently that was it. They had heard the complete speech.
“All right, lady,” Marty said, relieved that they didn’t have to listen to even more. “Here’s all I have at the moment. A quarter. Is that O.K.?”
“We’re delighted with anything,” the woman smiled, revealing badly stained dentures. “A good cause can get by with nickels and dimes because it has the backing of the people. A bad cause, even if funded by millions from evil sources, is nevertheless bound to fail.”
Marty nodded, started to leave with Jennifer.
“Don’t forget to take a flyer,” the woman urged. “It tells the whole story of the clock tower.”
Marty took the flyer from her hand.
“And here’s something for your friend.” the woman continued, thrusting yet another flyer at him.
Something nearly snapped in Marty then. For a long but as many as he could carry, telling the woman he would distribute them at school. Then he would look for the nearest trash can and dump them. At the last moment, fortunately, he realized that the woman, though irritating, really meant no harm.
“Thanks,” Marty said, taking the flyer and handing it to Jennifer.
With a curt smile, he grabbed his girlfriend’s arm and guided her away from the crusader as fast as he could move without breaking into a run. A few moments later, they were safely around the corner.
“Now…where were we?” he said.
Jennifer snuggled closer to him, looked both ways and then turned her face upward toward his.
“Right about here…” she murmured.
They moved closer. Marty could smell her skin, feel her breath against his chin. Slowly he put his hand on her neck, just below the ear and bent to kiss her…
A car horn shattered the magic moment. Jennifer looked away from him and Marty saw annoyance in her eyes. “That’s my dad,” she said.
“How did he find you here?” Marty asked.
“Just luck.”
“The kind of luck I’ve been having all day.”