Author’s Note:
I thought that the otherworldly Halloween atmosphere would be an appropriate occasion to share an unusual tale.
Recently, I read a book commemorating the Twilight Zone’s 50th anniversary. I’m a big fan of the old TV Twilight Zone episodes, and I dove into each of the nineteen authors’ offerings. I was expecting exceptional stories of the macabre, the life lesson, the supernatural, or bizarre psychological tale along the lines of an original TV Twilight Zone story episode.
They were all dreadful.
Maybe two held my interest. Maybe. I thought I could do better. Well, Stephen King it’s not – but I promise you it is better than most in the 50th anniversary book.
So remember, 1950s-60s Twilight Zone vibes. Happy Halloween! 🎃
THE DETOUR
by Allen Kazmerski
Host:
Meet one Janey Hudson, a college student, bright-eyed and hopeful, with the wide-open road beneath her wheels. A young woman who had taken a detour on the highway while driving to Nashville to meet with her best friend. When she saw the hitchhiker, she didn’t think twice about slowing down. That’s how a lot of people got around. Everyone picked them up and dropped them off closer to their destination. There was no harm. Except that Janey didn’t know that this detour was not on any map. For this highway existed only in…. The Twilight Zone.
Twilight Zone music
Male narrator
Everyone was looking to the evening sky trying to get a glimpse of that Russian satellite called Sputnik. People are talking about a 14 year old boy named Bobby Fischer who had beaten grown men at chess. Chuck Berry was making sure Rock ‘n Roll was here to stay with his new hit Johnny B. Goode. The New York Yankees already had a big lead. It was the beginning of the summer of 1958. We were in for a long stretch of hot weather for that summer season of drive-in movies, Coca-Cola and jukeboxes, and long shadows on lingering evenings. The kind of summer that felt like it could last forever.
Johnny B. Goode-“…….🎼 ….Deep down in Louisiana close to New Orleans…..”
Janey:
I had just finished my freshman year at The Culinary Institute of America, in Hyde Park, N. Y. in the beautiful Hudson Valley. I loved everything about that place — the smell of fresh bread in the halls, the clang of pots and pans, the teachers barking orders like generals. I was earning my degree in culinary arts, but the summer assignment wasn’t nearly so glamorous. Every first-year student had to work in a restaurant as a waitress and write a paper about it.
I was driving to Nashville to see my best friend Rachel. Rachel and I grew up together, and were inseparable. Girl Scouts, chorus, the ski club, sock hops and the drive in movies, right through getting our cap and gowns, we were always together. We shared our dreams together. Rachel had gone on to Vanderbilt and, as she had a summer job at Vandy and wouldn’t be coming home this summer, she invited me to spend a week with her. Rache and I were like sisters and I was so looking forward to seeing her, giving her a big hug, and laughing with her until we cried. We would talk about our schools, our friends, our boyfriends, and well, just talk about the stuff of our dreams.
Dad let me use his pride and joy, his two tone blue and white ‘55 Buick Roadmaster, making me promise to keep it under 60mph, to be careful where I parked, and to call home each night. I didn’t know if he was more worried about me or the ‘55 Buick.
I got up early that Saturday morning, too excited to sleep and ready to hit the road. After an early breakfast, hugs from Mom and Dad and my kid brother Ken, I loaded up a small cooler with some ham sandwiches, potato chips, baked pop tarts, Pez dispenser, and a couple of cream sodas. I threw my suitcase in the trunk, accepted 4 state maps with the route drawn on them in blue ink from my Dad, and I was off.
I jumped behind the wheel, the Buick roared to life, and I backed down the driveway careful not to flatten Ken’s roller skates. I waved goodbye a final time, rolled down Monroe St, and past the stately Elms. Onto Ann St. and past the National Bank where I worked last summer, I swung left onto John St., past the last stop light in town and I was on my way toward the highway and freedom. And so, there I was, swept away on full sail, on the beckoning sea of liberty.
About a mile outside of town a bright orange detour sign blinked at me like a warning I didn’t quite comprehend. ROAD CLOSED — DETOUR AHEAD. Funny, I didn’t remember seeing it yesterday. But I turned anyway, following the arrow down a narrow two-lane stretch of asphalt that curved along the river and through the green valley. Oh well, as long as It gets me to the highway.
I passed a big red, white and blue billboard with the slogan “Keep America, beautiful, don’t be a litterbug”, one of many I would pass.
It was already a hot and sticky day, with a blazing sun beating down on the asphalt, and the thermometer nearing 78*. By noon, it was approaching 89*and the baked highway asphalt radiated waves of heat off into the distance as the mercury continued its assault on the thermometer. I cranked up the A/C. It hesitated, then with a whumpf issued a rush of cool air into the Buick. It had an uphill battle as the black upholstery was acting like an oven. The baked upholstery and the balky A/C would continue their battle throughout the day with the upholstery proving to be a worthy opponent. I cruised on accompanied by the jumping sounds of Danny and the Juniors big hit “At the Hop”.
“……🎼…..at the hop….you can rock it you can roll it….”
The road was curiously empty of other vehicles. I hadn’t seen anyone or even one vehicle since I turned onto the highway. Not even a trucker, nothing but me and the Buick. Unusual at this time of the day. Must be something to do with the detour.
Up ahead I finally saw a person on the side of the road. When I got closer he turned around and put his thumb out. He’s carrying a weathered satchel and guitar case and looked to be about my age. It would be good to have company. I slowed down the big Buick and coasted to the side of the road under crunchy gravel and it groaned to a stop. As I got a closer look something about him seemed perfectly ordinary — and yet, not. His posture too straight, his clothes too clean despite the dust, like he’d stepped out of another time. He smiled broadly, stepped closer, his hand on the chrome handle.
The moment he opened the door, the world changed.
A burst of cold rolled in, not a breeze, not air from the struggling A/C — this was wrong cold. Sharp, heavy, immediate, as if a door to some frozen place had opened just wide enough for it to crawl in. I could see my misty cold breath for half a heartbeat before the heat swallowed it again.
He climbed in with a toothy smile, the chill gone as fast as it came.
I blinked, confused. Maybe the A/C kicked out a burst of refrigerant or something. Or maybe it was just my imagination — the heat getting to me.
My new traveler friend was oblivious to the happening as he was still smiling. He had curly black hair and coal black eyes to match. He was very tanned, lean and tall. His name was Billy and he just got out of the Air Force. He had become an aircraft mechanic in the Air Force and he was super excited about his interview for a job as an airline mechanic in Harrisburg next week. I told him I was on summer break and on my way to see my best friend. Billy and I got along just fine, chatting about baseball, our favorite foods and the stuff of our dreams. Billy started playing his guitar and he sure could play, and we sang along to pass the time. I glanced out the side window and noticed the sky had gone a strange color — too grey for a summer day where the sun continued to belch its hellish heat. Billy didn’t seem to notice.
We passed a “Trust your car to the man who wears the star” billboard and Billie said without his military training he might be wearing a “star” and working as a car mechanic for a living. He laughed and looked at me, and stopped laughing and for some reason it made my stomach tighten.
Billy’s guitar playing had a way of filling the car — soft, rhythmic, and now hypnotic — like the hum of a lullaby that wanted to be a warning.
We continued to talk and sing and the tension eased, and the afternoon flitted by.
I had been on the road all day and was getting tired and thirsty so we stopped at an old country general store that was tilting under its tin roof like it had been standing there since the Civil War. I went in to get a soda, and Billy stayed in the car, quietly strumming his guitar.
A fan turned lazily in the corner. The man behind the counter, gray and half-asleep, nodded at me but didn’t say a word. I grabbed a cream soda from the cooler, and it felt good in my hand on this sweltering summer day. I snatched a box of Cracker Jax that I would share with Billy, threw a dime on the counter and left.
When I came back out, the car door was open and the passenger seat was empty. Must have stretched his legs or gone to the restroom. I called his name and a deafening silence replied. In the stillness I turned on the radio and listened to Fats Domino sing Blueberry Hill.
🎼……“The moon stood still
On Blueberry Hill
And lingered until
My dream came true”…….
His voice floated out over the empty highway, tender and lonely.
Fats finished but Billy still hadn’t returned. I waited for 15 minutes. He didn’t come back. I got out and went into the store and asked if the clerk had seen Billy. The clerk looked at me as if he hadn’t seen me before. I walked around the building but didn’t see Billy. I waited another 20 minutes and decided that, well, I didn’t owe him anything and he was just being rude, so I put the car in drive, cranked up the A/C and headed down the highway. Billy would just have to stand out in that blazing heat, stick out his thumb and catch another ride.
Later that afternoon I spotted the familiar orange-and-white glow of an A&W Root Beer stand. The roller-skating attendant came gliding up, ponytail bouncing, and smiled as she leaned in to take my order. When the attendant skated back with my order she said that it looked like my tire was going flat, and sure enough, when I got out to look, it was getting quite flat. I had remembered that I had passed a Texaco Station a while back. I pulled onto the side of the road and slowly drove back to the station. The Texaco station sat at the edge of nowhere — white siding yellowed with age, a single pump standing like a guardian. The owner, with a face like sunburnt leather, clad in grimy green overalls, with a silver Texaco Star pinned to them, ambled over. Wiping the sweat from his forehead he says his name is Mac, and he’d be glad to fix my flat for me. Mac says it’ll take about half an hour and said there’s a park across the street if I want to find some shade and sit down. As I turned and headed for the park, the garage owner turned and yelled for someone to come out and fix the flat before he went home.
Male narrator:
The small park looked inviting. A fountain splashed in the distance. A few elm trees provided patches of shade between the sun drenched plots of green and brown grass. An Irish Setter was rolling in the shaded grass looking for relief. A bench with faded green slats and an ornate black iron frame beckoned. The evening’s sun’s glare was so bright it hurt to keep your eyes open. Janey sat on the bench and felt the tightness ease from her shoulders. She closed her eyes, and relaxed to the soulful melodies of the cicadas. The muggy air didn’t move under the flickering beam of the bronze sun poking between the Elm leaves. She drifted off dreamily envisioning the stuff of her dreams. She was awakened by Mac yelling to her that her car was ready. She slowly stretched and got up and as she walked toward the garage saw the mechanic give a final pull on the last lug nut.
Curly black hair. Tall, tanned, lean frame.
It was Billy! Or at least it looked just like Billy from afar. I called out to him, but he didn’t respond. He trotted over to a car with some other fellas, got in and they roared away, taillights fading down the long straight away. I asked Mac if that boy’s name was Billy. He said yes, it sure was. I asked how long he worked here and he said for a few months. I said, Air Force?, Mac said said Yeah, how’d you know?”
I turned pale, just smiled weakly. “Oh…just a guess” as I stared at taillights that disappeared in the evening haze.
I settled up with Mac and stumbled into the Buick, put it in gear, rumbled over the gravel lot, and headed back to the highway. The sun had slipped below the trees now, and everything had that peculiar orange glow that comes before full dark — the world half-alive, half-shadow. Half shadow indeed.
My knuckles turned white as I held a death grip on the steering wheel. It appears Billy earned his “star” after all. The hours flew by and I suddenly felt tired.
Male narrator:
Janey had lost time fixing the flat and it was getting late in the evening. The sun burned low, its orange reflection melting into the asphalt. The air was still heavy and full of secrets. The radio was playing “Twilight Time” by The Platters”.
“Heavenly shades of night are falling
It’s twilight time
Out of the mist your voice is calling
‘Tis twilight time”……..
Janey:
I pulled into a rather shabby looking motel along the highway for the night called
Whispering Pines. Inside the air was stale but the bed was soft. I needed sleep, and after calling home and telling mom and dad that everything was fine, it wasn’t long before I was in a deep slumber. But the dreams were strange. I kept hearing a car door opening — a sudden rush of cold air — and the faint, distant strum of a guitar.
The next morning I felt surprisingly refreshed and got an early morning start. I paid for the night’s stay and as I walked to the car, even the early morning hour carried a mugginess that brought the promise of another scorcher of a day. I nosed the Buick down the gravel driveway but before I got to the end, I saw her. A young girl in a green dress carrying a suitcase with her thumb out. Without thinking the Buick was rolling to a stop. Should I stop to pick up another hitchhiker after the bizarre episode with Billy? I decided that Billy was not a reason to leave this girl stranded. I leaned over to the passenger door and rolled down the window and asked her where she was going. Her name was Colleen and she was heading to Lexington. She had unusual beautiful green eyes, cute little freckles and reddish hair done up in a pony tail, just like mine. I told her to hop in as I was headed in that direction. She opened the back door and plopped her suitcase on the back seat. As Colleen opened the passenger side door a sudden wave of bitter cold air washed through the car — sharp, cutting, unnatural. I shivered and asked her where that cold air came from. She gave me a sideways glance, shrugged and said she didn’t feel anything but hot air. The A/C continued to chatter on. But that cold — that impossible chill — lingered like a ghost’s breath.
Male narrator:
Colleen was going to Cornell’s veterinary school. It turned out they had a ton in common. They both loved dreamy Elvis, the Leave It to Beaver show and the latest Jerry Lewis movie. She was funny, charming — almost like an old friend. After a few hours they were laughing and soon began sharing the stuff of their dreams. Colleen dreamed of being a veterinarian and helping animals of all kinds.
They passed a large billboard with a big tiger on it, advertising that a circus was coming to town. Colleen joked that if she didn’t raise her grades she’d be cleaning up after the circus elephants.
Janey:
I clicked on the radio and the Buick rumbled on down the highway to the raucous sounds of Colleen and me belting out Jerry Lee Lewis’ Great Balls of Fire…
🎼…..”I cut my nails and I twiddle my thumbs,
I’m really nervous but it sure is fun
Come on baby, you drive me crazy
Goodness gracious great balls of fire!”….
Janey:
By midafternoon, we stopped at a Howard Johnson’s for an ice cream cone. Colleen said she first wanted to use the phone booth to call her aunt who lived nearby. I turned my attention to the ice cream. With Ho Jo’s 28 choices it was always hard to choose a flavor. I read every flavor listed on the board, just like I always did. I settled on the ripple vanilla, just like I always did. The ice cream was a cooling treat on a sizzling hot day. I finished my ice cream and looked for Colleen and saw that the phone booth was empty. I checked the car – empty. Her suitcase – gone too. I went back inside to check the ladies room to see if she was changing her clothes. No one was there. I went back to the car, leaned against it and felt the heat pressing down on me. I waited 15 minutes longer. I knew she wasn’t coming back. No more hitchhikers for me. I had to get my mind far away from Billy and Colleen. I started up the big Buick and raced down the highway. Richie Valens was on the radio trying to win back his girl singing, “Oh Donna”……,
🎼…..”Oh Donna
Oh Donna
Oh Donna
Oh Donna
I had a girl
Donna was her name
Since she left me
I’ve never been the same”….
The road stretched before me, endless and quiet. The sun was hot and cruel. Through the groan of the A/C I thought I heard a soft, familiar strum of guitar strings. Just three notes. Then silence.
I passed another “Keep America Beautiful” billboard, doing a little faster than Dad’s mandated 60mph. A couple of hours went by and I passed another billboard this one painted with a clown and elephant, advertising “Circus Today 2:00 pm”. I remembered what Colleen had said about the circus. I slowed down as something was pulling me toward that circus. I followed the circus signs and turned off the main road and followed a dirt road. Through the dust was another sign, and when I made a sharp left turn – the giant red and white circus tent rose out of a trampled grassy field. I sat in the car wondering why I drove here. Scores of people were lined up to get in, sweltering in the heat, fanning themselves with programs. Muted circus music wafted from the big tent. Well, I’m here. Maybe a diversion would be good for me.
Male narrator:
Janey watched the graceful trapeze artists cheat gravity flying through the air, while she munched on a bag of popcorn. She watched the human cannonball act and the trained dogs riding tricycles. The elephants came next, trunks raised high followed by the sad faced clowns juggling white and red bowling pins. Out of the corner of her eye Janey could partially see a red headed girl far off near the tent flap opening where the circus acts come out. She got up out of her seat and worked her way along the edge of the seating platform and closer to the tent opening. She crept a bit closer to the tent flap and lifted it up. She could now clearly see the freckles and ponytail – Colleen feeding a baby elephant a bottle of milk. Janey stumbled backward and dropped her bag of popcorn, kernels scattering in the sawdust.
Janey:
I regained my balance and turned and pushed my way through the crowd. I was scared. I was overwhelmed by fright. I ran outside, my heart hammering. First Billy, now Colleen. I ran to the Buick, threw open the door, started the engine and roared out of the grass parking area, dirt and grass flying, back onto the dirt road, and soon back onto the highway.
I tried to block what had happened from my mind. I knew that ever since I got on this highway things started getting strange. I have to get off this creepy highway. I’m taking the first turn off and finding another route. I don’t care if Dad said to stay on the highway all the way to Nashville; I’m getting off. I drove on for 20 miles, then 30 miles. Then 50. There was no turn off. I drove on. And on. “Chantilly Lace” came bopping on the radio sounding like a circus clown.
🎼….”Hello, baby
Yeah, this is the Big Bopper speakin’
Ha ha ha ha ha, oh you sweet thing
Do I what?
Will I what?
Oh baby, you know what I like”…..
Time passed in a blur. I was beginning to calm down. Certainly there must be a rational explanation for what had happened. I began feeling light headed.
I realized I hadn’t eaten since breakfast and was suddenly famished. I passed by a diner before I noticed it was there. I stepped on the brake, slowed down and turned the big Buick around to head back to the diner. The neon sign carried the words “Mell’s Diner” emblazoned in orange, a sign proclaiming “air conditioned”, and a string of yellow lights that lit up the joint at nighttime. I opened the car door and the late afternoon sun was blazing like a heat lamp in the sky. It had to be near 100*F. Beads of sweat immediately broke out on my forehead, and as I took a step I felt faint, and swaying, I grabbed for the car door. I must have gotten up too fast. I leaned against the door and rested for a minute, and regained my composure. As I hurried for the shade and the air conditioned diner, I noticed that my Buick was the only vehicle in the parking lot even though I could see people inside the diner. As I shuffled to the entrance, and opened the door to the diner, the quietness of the day suddenly ended. Amid the clatter of dishes, the jukebox was playing “Tell Laura I love her”, though hardly heard above the raucous conversations of the dozens of patrons.
🎼…..”Tell Laura I love her, tell Laura I need her
Tell Laura not to cry
My love for her will never die”…..
A long low white counter with red topped vinyl stools ran the length of the diner. Black and white vinyl booths with little jukeboxes lined the opposite wall. Faded old license plates on shelving lined the upper walls. There were people in motorcycle jackets sitting in a booth. But there were no motorcycles outside. No cars. How did all these people get here? I sat down on one of the swivel stools, next to a lady in a blue dress with her little girl. I picked up the diner menu. That’s when it happened. The waitress. She was standing in front of me. I looked up at her. And froze.
I was looking at my double, at my twin. She was staring back at me without any any emotion! Her eyes a steely cold. But It was me! My hair, my eyes. Me with a pencil and order pad in my hand ready to take my order. She said “the specials are the tuna fish casserole and lemon meringue pie.” My voice! I felt my heart quickening. The hair at the base of my neck tightened and fear enveloped me. Doesn’t anyone else notice this! She asked me what I wanted. I mumbled and ordered a burger, and shake, and as I, ….or the waitress turned and left through the kitchen’s swinging doors, I was left dazed and frightened. What was happening was surreal. Maybe it was the heat! Yeah, yeah heatstroke and I’m still a little dizzy and confused, seeing things that aren’t there. I take a large gulp of water, the glass trembling in my hand. There, there, I feel better. It was the heat playing games with me.
Male narrator:
The last strains of “Tell Laura I Love Her” faded into oblivion. The clinking of plates and saucers and the diner chatter continued on.
Janey:
Then I, no she, the waitress, comes out from behind the swinging doors and looks directly at me! She mouthed “We’ve been waiting for you Janey.” A cold shudder reached the depths of my soul! My heart was beating in my ears. I wanted to scream! I look away. My glance out of the diner window reveals the parking lot still empty. Including my Dad’s Buick!
I bolt up from the counter and knock over my glass of water. The diner conversations stop and the patrons stare at me. I scream at a young woman at the counter, asking do you know that waitress, what is her name, why does she look just like me! I ask the next man, and the next! They all look at me, but don’t speak. The waitress takes a step toward me.
I stagger down the aisle, the strength gone from my legs, panic in my eyes and bewildered at not being able to grasp what is happening. I raced in wild terror for the door thinking where’s my car, I have to get out of here, I just want to go home, back to my family! Now! I reached the door, lean into it, and as the door flung open, a sudden freezing cold vapor surrounds me. I gasp.
and the world dissolves into white…….
Long pause………………………………….
Male narrator:
The jukebox can be heard again. It’s playing Earth Angel. The conversations have ratcheted up. The cashier walks over and absentmindedly shuts the door, wondering who left it open.
🎼….”Earth angel, earth angel
Please be mine
My darling dear
Love you all the time
I’m just a fool
A fool in love with you-ou-ou”…..
Outside the sun casts its radiance, baking the paved empty parking lot.
Inside the waitress, whose name badge says her name is Janey, looks out the window, sees no one, wipes the sweat from her brow, thrusts her pencil behind her ear, walks over to the thermostat and cranks up the A/C. She hears the kitchen bell clanging, announcing that her tuna casserole order is ready.
Host:
Janey Hudson. A young woman who was on the straight and narrow highway to success. She had everything going in the right direction. Except for that detour.….
for the highway she took had an unsuspecting curve. And she unwittingly changed places, and crossed dimensions into the middle ground between light and shadow, when she detoured onto a highway in a far flung outpost in …….The Twilight Zone.
Twilight zone music to fade……
Music:
Twilight Zone theme Opening
Johnny B Goode, Chuck Berry
At the Hop, Danny & the Juniors
Blueberry Hill, Fats Domino
Twilight Time, The Platters
Great Balls of Fire, Jerry Lee Lewis
Oh Donna, Richie Valens
Chantilly Lace, Big Bopper
Tell Laura I love her, Ray Peterson
Earth Angel, The Penguins
Twilight Zone theme Ending