The Twilight Zone redefined storytelling, drawing audiences into the unimaginable. Now, 66 years later, top writers, artists, and musicians are stepping into its eerie glow with a fresh twist. Ready to see where they’ll take you?
Liz Zimmers | Edith Bow | Sean Archer | Bryan Pirolli | Andy Futuro | CB Mason | John Ward | NJ | Hanna Delaney | William Pauley III | Jason Thompson | Nolan Green | Shaina Read | J. Curtis | Honeygloom | Stephen Duffy | K.C. Knouse | Michele Bardsley | Bob Graham | Annie Hendrix | Clancy Steadwell | Jon T | Sean Thomas McDonnell | Miguel S. | A.P Murphy | Lisa Kuznak | Bridget Riley | EJ Trask | Shane Bzdok | Adam Rockwell | Will Boucher
My own entry stems from a time when I was with a friend driving a vintage Mustang back home from Los Angeles. We overheated in Death Valley, and relied on the kindness of strangers. What if that had gone differently? What if we had entered…The Substack Zone?
Joe drove along Route 20 in his red mustang, radio blaring, wind blowing through his hair. He passed a young man with his thumb out, hitchhiking. It isn’t safe to pick up random people, no matter how needy they look. He rocketed down the highway and didn’t notice the light on the dashboard. The red needle on the gauge marked TEMP was inching farther and farther toward the right. Joe sang along with the Big Bopper and didn’t notice that the needle was now firmly pointing at H.
Rod Serling: Meet Joe Flannery, a man greying about the temples, and set in his ways. A loner. Not unfriendly, but the kind of man who never goes out of his way if he can help it. Today Joe Flannery finds himself with an overheated engine on a cross-country road trip, and forced to make a detour, decidedly out of his way, for today Joe Flannery takes exit 119 into Oyster Falls. But he doesn’t realize that exit 119 will also take him into...The Twilight Zone.
“I’m sorry Mr. Flannery, the radiator’s shot, and I won’t be able to get the part in until Monday morning. I can put the order in now, but we’re not in San Diego. Heck, Oyster Falls ain’t even San Jose. We only get but one shipment a month.” The ruddy faced mechanic wiped his brow.
Joe Flannery took off his jacket and leaned against the door of the garage. “Well, it looks like I will be taking in the sights of Oyster Falls for a few days. Is there a hotel in walking distance?”
“Not so much...” Merv’s gaze shifted in the pause. Joe looked over his shoulder, because it seemed as if the mechanic was staring at something in the street behind him. “You know what? My sister has a room above her garage. She calls it a study, but she don’t do much studying these days. I’ll call ahead, and tell her to let it to you.”
“Oh! Well that’s very kind of you, Merv was it?”
“That’s right, Mr. Flannery. Just give me two shakes of a lamb’s tail.” Merv popped into the office, off the garage, and left Joe standing in the heat. Two children rode by on bicycles. They were smiling, and they both turned to look at him as they rode by. At least it seemed that they were looking at him. Again, Joe got the strange sensation that they were looking just beyond him. At something in the middle distance. He was starting to feel the heat of the day and decided to make an excuse to join Merv in the office. Perhaps he had air-conditioning in there. He could always ask to use the lavatory before heading over to the sister’s home.
Joe opened up the door to the office, and was about to ask about a washroom when he saw Merv just standing there. The telephone was clear across the room on the desk, and Joe almost bumped him with the door when he opened it. Joe squeezed in, and closed the door. “Ah. Merv? I just wanted to ask if you had a washroom I could use. I haven’t gone since Phoenix, and I could wash up a bit.”
Joe eased around the man to the front, and it was like someone flipped a switch. Merv blinked, and said, “Of course, Mr. Flannery! I was just on my way out to tell you that Mary is happy to let you stay a few nights in her “study” (he made the quotes with his fingers and gave a wink). You’ll likely have to move some books out of the way, but it’s cozy enough, and she’s got a pull-out.” He went to the far wall and opened a door, “Bathroom’s through here. I’ll draw up a map to get you to Mary’s.”
Joe thanked him, and pulled shut the door to the bathroom. He washed his face, and looked in the mirror. The man said he was just on his way out, but he was facing away from the door. And that stare! He absently pumped some soap into his hands, and washed up, but when he went to reach for a paper towel, he noticed a thin layer of dust on top of the towel dispenser. It was yellow. He wiped at it with a finger, and saw it wasn’t just the dispenser. Every surface in this room was covered in the stuff. This was a desert town. He imagined they got dust storms here fairly often. And Merv obviously wasn’t hiring a cleaning lady to keep this bathroom tidy. He shook his head and decided not to say anything. It would be rude after Merv had so generously offered a place at his sister’s home.
~~~
Mary Henry turned off the electric kettle just as it began to steam, but before the whistle was more than a soft warble. She poured a cup for Joe, and a cup for herself. A knockout, Joe thought. Merv’s sister was a knockout. Gina Davis smile, and long red hair tied up in a bun. She brought both cups to the table, and sat down, “Merv said your car wouldn’t be ready till Monday evening at the latest, Mr. Flannery-“
“Joe, please, Mary. You’ve been so kind, and ‘Mr. Flannery’ sounds like a carpet salesman. Never liked my last name. My old man was a mean drunk, and so Mr. Flannery has always sounded bad to my ears. Just Joe, if you don’t mind.”
“Joe, of course,” her smile was warm. She stirred in some milk. “So, Joe, you said you’re traveling cross-country?”
“I am. I’ve got a month off between jobs. I start the new one in October, and I just felt like I haven’t seen enough. I’m in masonry, and there’s always work, but there isn’t always time to breathe. I have what I thought was a powerful car, until it died, and so driving across the desert to do some hiking sounded like just the thing to stretch my wings a little.”
“Well, there’s plenty of good hiking around here. Oyster Falls is an old mining town, so there’s trails and caves, and obviously the Falls themselves. Actually a series of falls. Not just the big one.” She looked up at him from over her cup, and he was struck by the amber color of her eyes. “I’d be happy to show you tomorrow. It’s my day off, and the kids are off to sleep away camp this afternoon. I’m actually happy for the company, if you’re interested.”
“Is there no...Mr. Henry?” Joe was definitely probing. Didn’t want to assume.
“There was.” She glanced over at the mantle. A family picture there showed two young girls, about five and eight, and Mary with a strapping man, the spitting image of George Reeves, the actor who played Superman. “John died of an aneurism three years ago. Just before we came to Oyster Falls. Maybe if we’d found this place sooner, he’d still be with us. His job took its toll on him. High pressure sales, and he smoked. The girls miss him most. He was a good father.” She gave a wan smile. “All of that is to say that showing off the Falls to a guest sounds like a great way of spending my day off. What do you say?”
“I can’t imagine anything better, Mary. Thank you. You and your brother have really made me feel at home.”
“Well. It’s a date. You’ll want to get settled in. I’ve left the guest house unlocked, and made up the hide-a-bed. There’s a fresh toothbrush, and face towel in the bathroom as well.”
“Thanks so much. Goodnight, Mary.”
“Goodnight, Joe.”
Joe took a shower in the guest house’s bathroom, and brushed his teeth as he made ready for bed. She really had set out everything so nicely. Joe was a city boy through and through. He loved getting out into nature, but he’d never spent any kind of time in small towns, so this kind of warm welcome was a bit overwhelming. He picked up his glasses from the bureau after washing his face, and was struck once more by the sight of a thin layer of dust there. His glasses had made a smudge when he picked them up. Merv had said that Mary didn’t really use this place to “study” much. Maybe she’d just missed this in her tidying. Seemed odd though. Everything else seemed so clean.
He turned the lights out and began to shut the blinds when he realized he could see into the main house. Mary had left a window open. She was sitting in a chair, motionless. He didn’t see any light from a TV, and she didn’t appear to be reading. She was just sitting there. Eyes wide open. Mouth slightly agape. As if she were about to say something. Joe watched for three full minutes. Surely she’ll get up soon. What is she looking at? He watched long enough that he felt he would go mad if she didn’t get up or at least move an arm. And just then, her head slowly turned, and her gaze fixed on him. Her mouth shut, and her eyes blinked, and Joe flipped the blinds shut as fast as his hand would turn the rod. His heart was racing. Mary had been so kind to him, and here he was spying on her! What kind of person was he? He’d have to apologize in the morning. But maybe it was dark enough in the room that she didn’t see him. He had turned out the light before he saw her there.
He pulled back the covers on the pull-out, and took a deep breath. “You’ve had a long day, Joe. Too long on the road, and too much excitement with the overheating Ford. She’s just a nice lady. Maybe she was meditating. What business is it of yours if she sits in a chair at the end of a day after saying goodbye to her children?” He found that this was at least explanation enough to allow his exhaustion to take hold, and he began to drift off. As his eyes closed, the last thought he had was that the room smelled a bit damp. For some reason he was reminded of soup. A soup his grandmother made. How odd was that? And then he drifted off.
~
Mary led the way up the winding forest path toward Oyster Falls, and hummed a little tune as she went. Joe didn’t recognize it, but felt as if he should. The scenery was amazing, and he found himself daydreaming about moving out this way. Wildflowers around every bend, and some that he’d only read about in books. “Is that a pitcher plant, Mary?” He stooped down to have a closer look. Mary turned to regard the plant with a slight squint.
“I do believe you’re right. Sweet but deadly.” She chuckled.
“If I remember my biology lessons, they smell like rotting meat?” he said, sniffing.
“Yes, and the flies come around but fall inside, and get digested by the pool at the bottom of the pitcher. I wonder if they understand it as they become food.” Mary turned back to the path, and Joe couldn’t help but admire the cut of her blue hiking pants, “Almost there!” She flipped her hair as she turned and caught him staring. She smiled.
“Coming!” Joe blushed, and stood up to follow her. As he did, he felt a slight dizziness. Probably the change in altitude. But once again he smelled that scent. Not the meaty smell of the pitcher plant, but a deeper smell. Decay. Moldy almost. But again, there must be a thousand things dead and rotting in these woods.
It was another twenty minutes of light conversation and an easy hike before they reached the falls. Oyster Falls was rather non-descript. A pool at the foot of the 10 or 15 foot height of the falls themselves was probably deep enough for diving, but it struck Joe that on such a fine day there weren’t any swimmers, or even other people lounging on the shore dipping their toes in the water. In fact, they hadn’t seen any other hikers on the path all day. “For a water feature they named the whole town after, this sure does seem to be a well kept secret.” He laughed a little.
“Well, most of the kids are away at the sleep away camp this weekend.” Mary stood by the water’s edge, and leaned against a fallen tree. Joe went to join her, and noticed that there were several clumps of yellow mushrooms growing on the trunk of the fallen oak.
“These are pretty, huh?” Joe pointed out the tiny mushrooms, and Mary reached out a manicured hand to pluck a couple from the grouping.
“Amanita flavoconia.” She popped one in her mouth, and swallowed it, non-chalant. “They’re all over these parts. An acquired taste, but I like them.” She held out a small one to Joe. “Wanna try?”
Joe picked it up from her palm. “I’ve never eaten wild mushrooms before. You eat any old toadstool you find out here? Isn’t that kinda risky?”
Mary regarded him with those heavy lidded, amber eyes, and said, “When you’ve lived here a while, you just know what’s safe and what isn’t.”
“When in Rome, I guess.” Joe popped the yellow cap into his mouth and chewed it. It was milky, and he felt like his tongue was coated with cinnamon. He actually coughed as if he’d breathed in a powder, when his teeth bit into it. Mary gave a sweet smile. Not a hint of concern in her face for his coughing. He stopped coughing long enough to catch his breath.
“Sorry, you don’t want to bite those so much as swallow them whole. They’re a bit dusty when you squeeze them.” She picked another one, and squeezed it. It seemed to pop, and a bit of yellow dust coated the back of her other hand. “Even that’s tasty though,” she said and with an uncharacteristic frankness she licked the yellow dust from the back of her hand, and gave him a wink.
Joe, flustered by this almost lewd gesture from his host, again blushed and felt himself begin to sweat. “Um, Mary, maybe we should get back. I’m feeling a little hot.”
“Me too. But we don’t have to go back now. How about a swim?” She stood up from the fallen log and began to peel off her shirt. She had a yellow bikini top underneath. She winked again, and turned as she unzipped her hiking pants and pulled them off to reveal a matching bottom. She undid the hair tie on her bun and let her hair hang down around her shoulders. Joe felt flushed, and dizzy.
“I don’t know, Mary. I think I might go back down to the car,” He felt so strange. Whether it was the change in Mary’s demeanor, or the heat, or the mushroom, he couldn’t tell, but he needed to go sit down. He began to walk away.
“No. You want a swim.” It wasn’t Mary calling out, ankle-deep in the water. The voice was hers, but it was as if she were speaking directly into his brain. And he found he did.
He found he needed a swim. Needed a drink. His mouth felt like he’d swallowed sand. He pulled off his pants and shirt, and stood there in his boxers. He didn’t remember doing it, but found himself next to Mary in the water. She turned to face him, and kissed him full on the mouth. Her tongue slightly probing his. It was tender. Genuine. And he found his thirst lessened. He leaned into her, and pulled her closer. She kissed his neck, and he did the same. He ran his fingers through her long red hair, and kissed her mouth again. But something stopped him short. With his fingers in her hair, he felt the back of her head. She broke the kiss, and looked into his eyes as if waiting for recognition.
He felt it there, erupting from the back of her head, a hardened stalk, and she allowed him to turn her around, never losing contact with him. Her hands touched his hips as he turned her to get a better look. There, what had been hidden by her bun until she’d let down her hair was a cluster of yellow tipped mushrooms. Far larger than the ones on the log. And as Mary turned back to him, she said without speaking, “You ever think about moving to Oyster Falls, Joe?” Her lips never moved. And Joe saw his own face through Mary’s eyes.
And in an instant, Joe saw his car being lowered on the rack in Merv’s garage, and felt the glow of a job well done. He saw, and felt himself peddling a bike down Redcap Lane, felt the wind in his hair as the bike moved along at a clip. He saw through the eyes of every single person in Oyster Falls. Knew what they knew. Loved the things they loved to do. And once more he felt himself in Mary’s embrace. He knew what it felt like to die in the pitcher plant. “I can’t imagine anywhere else I’d rather be, Mary. Oyster Falls feels like heaven.”
~
Rod Serling: “Joe Flannery. Self-proclaimed bachelor. A loner. Never one to go out of his way. But sometimes you find yourself in a new place, and sometimes a place grows on you. Sometimes a sense of community grows inside you. Maybe that’s when you find that you’ve grown to love living in…The Twilight Zone.
Special thanks to
and for inviting me to take part in this fun event! And as a footnote, Amanita Flaviconia isn’t edible folks. It’s probably not parasitic, but it might make you really sick. And do you really want to chance that it isn’t parasitic?
I love this fever dream tale, I wanted to know more about the mushrooms. Loved how eerie it was and how it crept up on you. Will be thinking about these for awhile. If you ever want to continue the story, I won't be mad :)
When a place smells like soup your grandma used to make… run away!!! Great story!