Blackness. That was all Marty saw for a split second, but it felt like so much longer. Music was the first thing he heard. The jukebox that was responsible for the tune then faded in, and then the room around it.

He was in a cafe. Everything was solid and he was wearing a white shirt, paper hat and an apron. He was a waiter. Marty wondered if he was dreaming, perhaps he had fallen asleep in his room with Jennifer, he prayed that was the case.

Suddenly he heard a bell ring, he swung around to discover it was the door opening, and two people walked in. Not just two people. His parents!
His mother noticed him starring, jaw-dropped, at her.

"Good afternoon," Lorraine greeted.

"Mom!" Marty noticed how young she looked, he had just got use to her being 47.

"What?" Lorraine asked, slightly intrigued as George hung up their coats.

"Uh, Mom mom momio, how's it going?" Marty saved himself.

George stepped forward, "We're fine Goldie, give us two milks thanks," he then directed Lorraine and himself to a booth. George looked back and added, "Chocolate."

Marty looked around and caught a glimpse of his reflection in a small wall mirror behind the bar.
Goldie Wilson, the waiter, was looking right back at him. Somehow the magic necklace had not only sent him back to the 50's, but in Goldie's body.

"Hey Goldie! Get back to work!" shouted Lou Curruthers from behind the bar.

"Um, I'm not feeling well boss, I need to go home." Marty shyfully said.

"Ok, Goldie, it's close to your knock-off time anyway. But this ends your sick days for the whole month!" Lou couldn't help but end his sentence with a shout.
Marty seized the opportunity to ask, "Ah, what month is it again, Lou?"

"It's November you numskull." Lou, stoogely, abused as he pointed to the wall calendar, which read '1956', under a picture of Grace Kelly.

"Right," Marty said as he stepped out of the familiar cafe and into the clean town square. He looked up at the Clock tower, still frozen in time on 10:04 p.m.

"Not you again!" Marty sarcastically said before his attention was averted away from the tower and to a man walking on the path through the park. A man with a straw hat, wild, light hair and a quick pace in his step.

"Doc!" Marty was delighted, he run across the road, almost getting side swiped by a car, he jumped the bushes and grabbed Doc's back and spun him around. The Doc didn't put up any resistance, except for his face, which was terrified.

"Doc!" Marty shouted with joy.

"Ah . . . Hiiiiii. I know I'm behind with my tab at the cafe but . . ."

Marty interrupted him, "Doc it's me! It's . . ." he then realized that he wasn't Marty. He was Goldie Wilson. Marty sheepishly tried to get out of this encounter as quickly as he entered, "Uh, its Goldie. I'm glad you will pay your bill soon," Marty dusted Doc's jacket off where he had creased it via his grabbing.

"Well, then, I'm glad that's sorted out." The Doc turned away but Marty noticed a newspaper under Doc's left arm; he grabbed it when he saw the headline.
'Body found at Hill Valley Lake'

"Someone was murdered up at the lake?" Marty asked as he read the article.

"Yes. Poor guy got a flat tire and then he was found flattened himself. If I were you I'd stay away from that lake," Doc grabs the newspaper back and walked away.

"Oh Don't worry, I intent to." Marty said, as he turned and rushed the opposite direction to Doc. He hurried over to the clock tower and leaned against the side wall. He figured that spot was more secluded. He was ready to return back to the future. He felt around back and unclipped the necklace chain and took it off. He waited a moment but nothing happened.
Marty tried several more times of putting it back on and then taking it off again, but it was hopeless.

"I'm trapped here!" Marty realized the awful truth.

Marty came to the decision that he must prevent Goldie's death and then maybe the necklace would take him home.
His thoughts were broken by a loud voice that approached him, "Goldie Wilson! Can you not remember anything?"
Marty turned to find a smartly dressed, dark and mysterious, pregnant woman walking towards him.
"Excuse me?" Marty asked, hopping this encounter would be better then the others he had been apart of so far.
"Do you not remember the conversation we had over breakfast?" the lady arrived, and placed her hands on her big hips.
Marty took a wild stab in the dark, fearing he would get into more trouble if he said nothing,

"Uh, that income tax is too high nowadays?"

"You know darn well I was going to meet you for lunch today, and here I find you stopping the clock tower from falling over?"

Marty pulled himself away from his leaning position, "I was just . . ."

"I know what you were just! You were just going to have one of those cigarettes you promised me, over your dear mother's grave, you would give up! You know I can't stand smoke!"

"I wasn't smoking. I was just . . . thinking," Marty did his best to calm down the lady who was obviously the same person he had met at Happy Dale.

"Ok, well since I didn't catch you in the act, I have no proof. But you mark my words, Goldie Frederick Wilson, if I ever see a puff of smoke exit your mouth . . . heaven help you!"

With that threat, she grabbed his arm and pulled him away with her. They arrived at a car; she got in the driver's side, Marty waited for her to unlock the door. She sat there for a moment and then glanced up at him, "Are you coming or did I scare you with all my renting and raving?"

"Uh, I was just waiting for the door to be unlocked," Marty admitted through the window glass.

"Unlocked? Since when do we lock anything?" Mrs. Wilson, old fashionably said. Marty gave a chuckle and opened the door and slid into the seat.

It wasn't long before they pulled up outside a small house. They left the car and entered the house; Marty cringed when he realized he had locked the car door. There was no way he was getting back in that side again, he thought.

It was a modest house. Nothing like the other 1950's homes Marty had visited.
He sat down in the lounge room, while his "wife" unpacked some groceries in the close-by kitchen.

It took Marty a minute to realize he wasn't looking at a television in the centre of the room, but a radio. It was the biggest radio he had ever seen, but it was great, like a piece of the furniture, Marty thought. Marty's attention then shifted to the mysterious necklace he wore.

He wondered whether he should have told the Doc about it. But questioned what help that could have been. The Doc was great if you had a machine and a fuel problem, but a magic necklace seemed out of his jurisdiction.

Marty then wanted to ask Mrs. Wilson about the necklace, since she was the one who had given it to him, but he didn't want to shout out, 'Hey you'.

He needed her name.

But then he thought of a compromise. "Uh, darling, how long have I had my necklace now?"

Her voice returned from the kitchen, "What?" She heard him, but obviously was surprised by the question.

"What I mean is it's been awhile since I got it, right?" Marty persisted.

This statement caused her to walk out and look at him, "You know your father gave it to you on his death bed. I know you wear it, hoping it'll bring good luck like he said."

"He said it'll bring good luck?" Marty tried to delve deeper.

"I believe his exact words were, 'If you are ever in trouble, it will call an angel to help you." Mrs. Wilson smiled and then paced back into the kitchen to resume her chores.

Marty held the necklace in his fingers, thinking what a poor disappointment he would make for anyone expecting an angel. But at least he could offer help to Goldie. He could save his life, as long as he stayed away from the lake.