"The Monsters Are Due on Maple Street"

by Rod Serling

ACT I

[Fade in on a shot of the sky...the various nebulae, and planet bodies stand out in sharp,
sparkling relief. As the camera begins a slow pan across the heavens.]

Narrator's Voice

There is a fifth dimension beyond that which is known to man. It is a dimension as vast as
space, and as timeless as infinity. It is the middle ground between light and shadow -
between science and superstition. And it lies between the pit of man's fears and the
summit of his knowledge. This is the dimension of imagination. It is an area which we call
the Twilight Zone.

[The CAMERA has begun to PAN DOWN until it passes the horizon and on a sign which
reads, "Maple Street." PAN DOWN until we are shooting down at an angle toward the street
below. It's a tree-lined, quiet residential American street, very typical of the small town. The
houses have front porches on which people sit and swing on gliders, conversing across from
house to house. Steve Brand polishes his car parked in front of his house. His neighbor, Don
Martin, leans against the fender watching him. A Good Humor man rides a bicycle and is
just in the process of stopping to sell some ice cream to a couple of kids. Two women gossip
on the front lawn. Another man waters his lawn.]

Narrator's Voice

Maple Street, U.S.A., late summer. A tree-lined little world of front porch gliders, hop
scotch, the laughter of children, and the bell of an ice cream vendor.

[There is a pause and the CAMERA MOVES OVER to a shot of the Good Humor man and
two small boys who are standing alongside, just buying ice cream.]

Narrator's Voice

At the sound of the roar and the flash of light it will be precisely 6:43 P.M. on Maple
Street.

[At this moment one of the little boys, Tommy, looks up to listen to a sound of a tremendous
screeching roar from overhead. A flash of light plays on both their faces and then it moves
down the street past lawns and porches and rooftops and then disappears. Various people
leave their porches and stop what they're doing to stare up at the sky. Steve Brand, the man
who's been polishing his car and now he stands there transfixed, staring upwards. He looks
at Don Martin, his neighbor from across the street.]

Steve What was that? A meteor?

Don [Nods] That's what it looked like. I didn't hear any crash, though, did you?

Steve [Shakes his head] Nope. I didn't hear anything except a roar.

Mrs. Brand [From her porch] Steve? What was that?

Steve [Raising his voice and looking toward porch] Guess it was a meteor, honey.
Came awful close, didn't it?

Mrs. Brand Too close for my money! Much too close.

[The camera pans across the various porches to people who stand there watching and
talking in low conversing tones.]

Narrator's Voice

Maple Street. Six-forty-four P.M., on a late September evening. [A pause.] Maple Street
in the last calm and reflective moments...before the monsters came!

[The camera slowly pans across the porches again. We see a man screwing a light bulb
on a front porch, then getting down off the stool to flick the switch and finding that
nothing happens.

Another man is working on an electric power mower. He plugs in the plug, flicks on the
switch of the power mower, off and on, with nothing happening. Through the window of
a front porch, we see a woman pushing her finger back and forth on the dial hook. Her
voice is indistinct and distant, but intelligible and repetitive.]

Woman Operator, operator, something's wrong on the phone, operator!

[Mrs. Brand comes out on the porch and calls to Steve.]

Mrs. Brand [Calling.] Steve, the power's off. I had the soup on the stove and the stove just
stopped working.

Woman Same thing over here. I can't get anybody on the phone either. The phone seems
to be dead.
[We look down the street as we hear the voices creep up from down below, small, mildly
disturbed voices, highlighting these kinds of phrases:]

Voices Electricity's off.

Phone won't work.
Can't get a thing on the radio.
My power motor won't move,
won't work at all.
Radio's gone dead.

[Pete Van Horn, a tall, thin man is seen standing in front of his house.]

Van Horn I'll cut through the backyard...See if the power's still on Floral Street. I'll be right
back.

[He walks past the side of his house and disappears into the backyard. The hammer on Van
Horn's hip as he walks. The camera pans down slowly until we're looking at ten or eleven
people standing around the street and overflowing to the curb and sidewalk. In the
background is Steve Brand's car.]

Steve Doesn't make sense. Why should the power go off all of a sudden, and the phone
line?

Don Maybe some sort of an electrical storm or something.

Charlie That don't seem likely. Sky's just as blue as anything. Not a cloud. No lightning.
No thunder. No nothing. How could it be a storm?

Woman I can't get a thing on the radio. Not even the portable.

[The people again murmur softly in wonderment and question.]

Charlie Well why don't you go downtown and check with the police, though they'll
probably think we're crazy or something. A little power failure and right away
we get all flustered and everything.

Steve It isn't just the power failure, Charlie. If it was, we'd still be able to get a
broadcast on the portable.

[There's a murmur of reaction to this. Steve looks from face to face and then over to his car.]

Steve I'll run downtown. We'll get this all straightened out.
[He walks over to the car, gets in it, turns the key. Beyond it we see the crowd watching him
from the other side. Steve starts the engine. It turns over sluggishly and then just stops dead.
He tries it again and this time he can't get it to turn over. Then, very slowly and reflectively,
he turns the key back to "off" and then slowly gets out of the car. As they stare at Steve. He
stands for a moment by the car, then walks toward the group.]

Steve I don't understand it. It was working fine before...

Don Out of gas?

Steve [Shakes his head] I just had it filled up.

Woman What's it mean?

Charlie It's just as if…as if everything had stopped... [Then he turns toward Steve.]

We'd better walk downtown. [Another murmur of assent at this.]

Steve The two of us can go, Charlie. [He turns to look back at the car.] It couldn't be
the meteor. A meteor couldn't do this.

[He and Charlie exchange a look, then they start to walk away from the group. We see
Tommy, a serious-faced fourteen-year-old in spectacles who stands a few feet away from
the group, halfway between them and the two men who start to walk down the sidewalk.]

Tommy Mr. Brand...you better not!

Steve Why not?

Tommy They don't want you to. [Steve and Charlie exchange a grin and Steve looks
back toward the boy.]

Steve Who doesn't want us to?

Tommy [Jerks his head in the general direction of the distant horizon.] Them!

Steve Them?

Charlie Who are them?

Tommy [Very intently.] Whoever was in that thing that came by overhead.

[Steve knits his brows for a moment, cocking his head questioningly. His voice is intense.]

Steve What?
Tommy Whoever was in the thing that came over. I don't think they want us to leave
here.

[Steve leaves Charlie and walks over to the boy. He kneels down in front of him. He forces
his voice to remain gentle. He reaches out and holds the boy.]

Steve What do you mean? What are you talking about?

Tommy They don't want us to leave. That's why they shut everything off.

Steve What makes you say that? Whatever gave you that idea?

Woman [From the crowd.] Now isn't that the craziest thing you ever heard?

Tommy [Persistently but a little intimidated by the crowd.] It's always that way, in
every story I ever read about a ship landing from outer space.

Woman [To the boy's mother, Sally, who stands on the fringe of the crowd.] From
outer space, yet! Sally, you better get that boy of yours up to bed. He's been
reading too many comic books or seeing too many movies or something.

Sally Tommy, come over here and stop that kind of talk.

Steve Go ahead, Tommy. We'll be right back. And you'll see. That wasn't any ship or
anything like it. That was just a...a meteor or something. Likely as not--

[He turns to the group, now trying to weight his words with an optimism he obviously
doesn't feel but is desperately trying to instill in himself as well as the others.]

Steve No doubt it did have something to do with all this power failure and the rest of
it. Meteors can do some crazy things. Like sunspots.

Don [Picking up the cue.] Sure. That's the kind of thing - like sunspots. They raise
Cain with radio reception all over the world. And this thing being so close - why
there's no telling the sort of stuff it can do. [He wets his lips, smiles nervously.]
Go ahead, Charlie. You and Steve go into town and see if that isn't what's
causing it all.

[Steve and Charlie again walk away from the group down the sidewalk. The people watch
silently. Tommy stares at them, biting his lips and finally calling out again.]

Tommy Mr. Brand!

[The two men stop again. Tommy takes a step toward them.]
Tommy Mr. Brand...please don't leave here.

[Steve and Charlie can be seen beyond them. They stop once again and turn toward the boy.
There's a murmur in the crowd, a murmur of irritation and concern as if the boy were
bringing up fears that shouldn't be brought up; words which carried with them a strange
kind of validity that came without logic but nonetheless registered and had meaning and
effect. Again the murmur of reaction from the crowd. Tommy is partly frightened and
partly defiant as well.]

Tommy You might not even be able to get to town. It was that way in the story. Nobody
could leave. Nobody except--

Steve Except who?

Tommy Except the people they'd sent down ahead of them. They looked just like
humans. And it wasn't until the ship landed that— [The boy suddenly stops
again, conscious of the parents staring at them and of the sudden hush of the
crowd.]

Sally [In a whisper, sensing the antagonism of the crowd.] Tommy, please
son...honey, don't talk that way--

Man One That kid shouldn't talk that way...and we shouldn't stand here listening to him.
Why this is the craziest thing I ever heard of. The kid tells us a comic book plot
and here we stand listenin--

[Steve walks toward the camera, stops by the boy.]

Steve Go ahead, Tommy. What kind of story was this? What about the people that
they sent out ahead?

Tommy That was the way they prepared things for the landing. They sent four people. A
mother and a father and two kids who looked just like humans...but they
weren't.

[There's another silence as Steve looks toward the crowd and then toward Tommy. He
wears a tight grin.]

Steve Well, I guess what we'd better do then is to run a check on the neighborhood
and see which ones of us are really human.
[There's laughter at this, but it's a laughter that comes from a desperate attempt to lighten
the atmosphere. It's a release kind of laugh. The people look at one another in the middle of
their laughter.]

Charlie There must be somethin' better to do than stand around makin' bum jokes
about it. [Rubs his jaw nervously.] I wonder if Floral Street's got the same deal
we got. [He looks past the houses.] Where is Pete Van Horn anyway? Didn't he
get back yet? Suddenly there's the sound of a car's engine starting to turn over.

[Suddenly there is a sound of a car’s engine starting to turn over. We look across the street
toward the driveway of Les Goodman’s house. He’s at the wheel trying to start the car.]

Sally Can you get it started, Les?

Goodman No dice.

[He walks toward the group. He stops suddenly as behind him, inexplicably and with a
noise that inserts itself into the silence, the car engine starts up all by itself. Goodman whirls
around to stare toward it. The car idles roughly, smoke coming from the exhaust, the frame
shaking gently. Goodman’s eyes go wide, and he runs over to his car. The people stare at
the car.]

Man One He got the car started somehow. He got his car started! [The people stare,
somehow caught up by this revelation and somehow, illogically, wildly, frightened.

Woman How come his car just up and started like that?

Sally All by itself. He wasn't anywheres near it. It started all by itself.

[Don approaches the group, stops a few feet away to look toward Goodman's car and then
back toward the group.]

Don And he never did come out to look at that thing that flew overhead. He wasn't
even interested. [He turns to the faces in the group, his face taut and serious.]
Why? Why didn't he come out with the rest of us to look?

Charlie He always was an oddball. Him and his whole family. Real oddball.

Don What do you say we ask him?

[The group suddenly starts towards the house. In this brief fraction of a moment they take
the first step toward performing a metamorphosis that changes people from a group into a
mob. They begin to head purposefully across the street toward the house at the end. Steve
stands in front of them. For a moment their fear almost turns their walk into a wild
stampede, but Steve's voice, loud, incisive, and commanding, makes them stop.]

Steve Wait a minute...wait a minute! Let's not be a mob!

[The people stop as a group, seem to pause for a moment, and then much more quietly
and slowly start to walk across the street. Goodman stands there alone facing the
people.]

Goodman I just don't understand it. I tried to start it and it wouldn't start. You saw me. All
of you saw me.

[And now, just as suddenly as the engine started, it stops and there's a long silence that is
gradually intruded upon by the frightened murmuring of the people.]

Goodman I don't understand. I swear...I don't understand. What's happening?

Don Maybe you better tell us. Nothing's working on this street. Nothing. No lights,
no power, no radio. [And then meaningfully.] Nothing except one car - yours!

[The people pick this up and now their murmuring becomes a loud chant filling the air with
accusations and demands for action. Two of the men pass Don and head toward Goodman
who backs away, backing into his car and now at bay.]

Goodman Wait a minute now. You keep your distance - all of you. So I've got a car that
starts by itself - well that's a freak thing, I admit it. But does that make me some
kind of criminal or something? I don't know why the car works - it just does!

[This stops the crowd momentarily, and now Goodman, still backing away, goes toward his
front porch. He goes up the steps and then stops to stand facing the mob.
We see Steve as he comes through the crowd.]

Steve [Quietly.] We're all on a monster kick, Les. Seems that the general impression
holds that maybe one family isn't what we think they are. Monsters from outer
space or something. Different that us. Fifth columnists from the vast beyond.
[He chuckles.] You know anybody that might fit that description around here
on Maple Street?

Goodman What is this, a gag or something? This a practical joke or something?

[We see a close up of a porch light that suddenly goes out. There's a murmur from the
group.]
Goodman Now, I suppose that's supposed to incriminate me! The light goes on and off.
That really does it, doesn't it? [He looks around the faces of the people.] I just
don't understand this-- [He wets his lips, looking from face to face.] Look, you
all know me. We've lived here five years. Right in this house. We're no different
than any of the rest of you! We're no different at all. Really...this whole thing is
just...just weird--

Woman Well, if that's the case, Les Goodman, explain why—[She stops suddenly,
clamping her mouth shut.]

Goodman [Softly.] Explain what?

Steve [Interjecting.] Look, let's forget this--

Charlie [Overlapping him.] Go ahead, let her talk. What about it? Explain what?

Woman [A little reluctantly.] Well...sometimes I go to bed late at night. A couple of

times...a couple of times I'd come out on the porch and I'd see Mr. Goodman
here in the wee hours of the morning standing out in front of his house...looking
up at the sky. [She looks around the circle of faces.] That's right. Looking up at
the sky as if...as if he were waiting for something. [A pause.] As if he were
looking for something.

[There's a murmur of reaction from the crowd again. As Goodman starts toward them, they
back away frightened.]

Goodman You know really...this is for laughs. You know what I'm guilty of? [He laughs.]
I’m guilty of insomnia. Now what's the penalty for insomnia? [At this point the
laugh, the humor, leaves his voice.] Did you hear what I said? I said it was
insomnia. [A pause as he looks around, then shouts.] I said it was insomnia!
You fools. You scared, frightened rabbits, you. You're sick people, do you know
that? You're sick people - all of you! And you don't even know what you're
starting because let me tell you...let me tell you - this thing you're starting - that
should frighten you. As God is my witness...you're letting something begin here
that's a nightmare!