The Ranger Gathering

Doc knew many people found him to be eccentric, and they certainly weren’t wrong, but if you asked him, the same could be said of his young friend.

“Mar—”

The sound of a cardboard box being knocked over interrupted him. Thankfully, it sounded like the box filled with old newspapers and not the one filled with various tools and fasteners.

“Sorry, Doc!”

Doc waved the apology away. “Not a worry. I’m ready for your assistance here.”

“Right.”

Marty ran over, taking the small sheet of metal that sat on the work table. He held it in place against a second sheet as Doc carefully measured and then drilled two holes into them.

“Very good,” Doc said, surveying the work. “Thank you.”

Marty smiled. “Yep!”

He took off then, back to the fairly clear area of the garage he’d been in before. He’d been doing this for the better part of a half hour—scurrying off to do, well, Doc isn’t entirely sure what’s happening. Some sort of shuffle. Lots of scuffing his shoes on the floor. A spin every so often.

Doc watched for just a moment, then returned to his work, letting the noise and motion fall to the background. He didn’t mind the commotion; Marty was the type who needed to move.

But he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t terribly curious.

“Marty?”

The movements stopped. “Yeah, Doc?”

“If you don’t mind my asking…what exactly is it that you’re doing?”

The expression that crossed Marty’s face had Doc suspecting the answer should be obvious.

“Practicing my moonwalk.”

That did nothing to clear things up.

“It's a new dance move,” Marty clarified.

“You look like you’re trying to get gum off your shoe.”

Marty looked down at his shoes. Laughed. “Guess I do, huh? But you wait. I’m gonna get good at it.”