You're traveling through another dimension...
A dimension not only of sight and sound, but of mind, a journey into a wondrous land whose boundaries are that of imagination.
Your next stop, the twilight zone.
Hey, Doris, I lost one of my cuff links.
Oh, I'll see if I can find it.
No, I found it.
That's all right, then.
I found it in your jewel case.
And I found some other items.
Oh?
What about them?
You tell me.
There's nothing much to tell, really.
I decided to bring back some souvenirs.
Souvenirs?
A human finger?
A sacred death stone?
A vulture's claw?
Baubles of a witch doctor.
That's all these are to you, souvenirs?
Of course.
Nothing else? Are you sure?
Certainly, I'm sure.
Then you won't mind if I dispose of them, will you?
Alan, don't!
Please don't!
Please don't, Alan! Please don't!
Why not?
No!
All right, now, are there any more "souvenirs"?
We aren't in Africa any longer, we're here in new york.
Do you understand what I'm saying?
This is for weak people, ignorant, uncivilized people who don't know any better, not for you, not for me.
Doris, listen to me, we've done nothing wrong.
We have nothing to fear.
Least of all from a bunch of witch doctors
5,000 miles away.
What are you afraid of?
Africa.
Do you remember what the old shaman said long ago when the men started drilling?
He said we were wounding the land, hurting it, making it bleed.
Alan, he said that land would make us pay.
Doris, we left Africa weeks ago.
Did we? Well, I wonder.
Alan, sometimes at night I can feel it, all around me, like some huge, dark animal.
Alan, please.
Please don't let them go there.
Tell them it won't work.
Stop them now while there's still time, please!
It's my job to engineer a hydroelectric project, not pander to ignorant witch doctors.
I'll try to be back early.
You'll never be back.
Don't open the door.
The carcass of a goat, a dead finger, a few bits of broken glass and stone and Mr. Alan Richards, a modern man of a modern age, hating with all his heart something in which he cannot believe and preparing, although he doesn't know it...
To take the longest walk of his life right down to the center of the twilight zone.
Leveling and drainage have already been started as well as preliminary work on the dam itself.
Our time of completion will have to be upped by three to six months, but this shouldn't affect our general cost more than a few thousand dollars.
Well, it's getting very late.
Before we make a decision, I have a few questions if you don't mind.
Certainly, sir.
I'm sure you've considered this aspect carefully, but, for my own curiosity, what about the natives?
Natives?
What about them, sir?
Well, what's their attitude?
How are they reacting?
As far as I know...
Well, the kekouyu are a violent people.
They resent the loss of their homes.
They resent the enterprise even though they're going to benefit eventually.
They resent us.
But I doubt they'll cause any serious disturbance.
Except... for uchawi.
Uchawi?
Uh... witchcraft.
A number of the shamans decided to put a curse on everyone connected with the enterprise effective upon the decision to go ahead with the project.
What sort of a curse, mr. Richards?
The usual:
A slow, painful death.
Wait a minute, gentlemen, I assure you, there's nothing the least bit funny funny about uchawi.
Oh, you're not serious.
I am, I've seen it work.
I have seen healthy men sicken and die within ten minutes of the time set by the witch doctors who cursed them...
Healthy men. And women.
They weren't touched.
They weren't poisoned.
They weren't harmed in any way.
They just d*ed.
Don't talk rubbish.
Wait a minute, just a second.
Mr. Sinclair.
What time is it?
Oh, say, what's this you're wearing on your watch chain?
Why, it's...
A rabbit's foot, isn't it?
Why do you wear that?
Now, see here.
It's for luck, isn't it?
Well, what's that got to do with magic?
Sinclair carries the severed foot of a dead animal around with him for good fortune and he can't see what that's to do with magic?
Hardy is amused.
Although it's known he's a superstitious man or have you finally given up astrology?
Well, now, here's a 20th-century man with a 20th century mind who allows the stars to make his decisions.
And a fine job they've done of it, too, young man.
That's exactly what a kekouyu witch doctor said to me when I suggested panther bones could not foretell the future.
You needn't smile, mr. Templeton.
I've seen you knock on wood more than once.
Oh, Alan...
Mr. Fleming, when was the last time you walked under a ladder?
Or crossed your fingers or threw salt over your shoulder?
All right, mr. Richards, you've made your point.
A multi-billion dollar corporation run by witches, warlocks.
In a 40-story building that doesn't even have a 13th floor.
Now, gentlemen, I...
Mr. Richards!
Chad.
Tell me something:
If you wanted to get hold of a dead goat on an hour's notice, where would you go?
To a psychiatrist.
No, I'm serious.
Well, so am I.
You really want a dead goat?
No.
Then what are you talking about?
I'll do it.
Hey.
What's this?
That, my dear chad, is kipitu.
A protective amulet.
Where did it come from?
Doris.
You see, if this is a lion's tooth, I gather I'm being protected from lions.
In, uh, new york city?
Yeah.
Well, got to admit they're doing a fine job.
I'm sure that's the way Doris looks at it.
What will you do about Doris?
I don't know.
She's sick, isn't she?
So are half of the people in this city!
My wife carries a lion's tooth, the company president, a rabbit's foot...
It's all the same, same rotten disease.
It's eating away at the strength, the will, the very soul of me.
Hey, hey, Alan.
Think you better have another drink.
Mm-mm.
Alan, I'd take it easy if I were you.
A guy doesn't get all this worked up about something he doesn't believe in.
What do you mean?
Oh, nothing.
Come on.
Look, it's 3:00.
Doris will be worried.
No, I called her, I told her I'd be late.
Did you pay?
Yeah.
I'll see you tomorrow.
Good night.
Hey, chad!
Hey.
Anybody there?
Hello?
Cab, mister?
Shuler house.
Right.
Driver, the light's green.
You can go now.
Driver.
The light's green.
Oh.
Hey, excuse me, mister.
I've had nothing to eat for two days.
I'd surely appreciate it if you could help me out.
Sure...
Sure, sure.
Yes, sir.
God bless you, mister, god bless you.
Hey, wait a minute.
Where's that sound coming from?
Wh-what sound was that?
Those drums.
I don't hear no drums.
Listen.
You mean to tell me you can't hear that?
Huh, you'll have to excuse me.
You see, my ears aren't as good as they used to be.
Say, wait a minute.
How'd you like to make some money?
To do what?
I'm trying to get home on the other side of the park.
Look, if you'll walk with me, I'll give you ten dollars.
Now, don't tell me you can't hear tha...!
Hey!
Come back!
Hey, come back!
Look, I'll give you $20!
Come back.
Some superstitions kept alive by the long night of ignorance have their own special power.
You'll hear of it through a jungle grapevine ina remote corner of the twilight zone.
Rod serling, creator of the twilight zone, will tell you about next week's story after this message.
And now, Mr. Serling.
Next week on the twilight zone, we bring to the tv cameras a most unique gentlemen whose own very special brand of clownship has long ago become a milestone in American humor.
Mr. Buster Keaton appears in once upon a time.
A script written especially for him by Richard Matheson, this one is wild, woolly and most unpredictable.
On the twilight zone next week, mr. Buster Keaton in once upon a time.
Remember, the mentally ill need your help, not criticism. Learn how.
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