[eerie music]
(narrator)
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.
[snoring]
In this corner of the
Universe a prizefighter
Named Bolie Jackson.
One hundred and
Eighty-three pounds, and
An hour and a half away
From a comeback
At St. Nick's Arena.
Mr. Bolie Jackson,
Who by the standards
Of his profession
Is an aging,
Over-the-hill
Relic of what was,
And who now sees a reflection
Of a man who has left too many
Pieces of his youth
In too many stadiums
For too many years
Before too many
Screaming people.
Mr. Bolie Jackson,
Who might do well to look
For some gentle magic
In the hard-surfaced glass
That stares back at him.
[cr*ck]
Feeling good, Bolie?
Feeling sharp?
Take the tiger
Tonight, huh, Bolie?
I'm gonna take the tiger,
Henry. I'll give him a
Left then a right.
And I'm going to the
Stomach, then pick him
Up by the tail
And throw him right up
Into the ninth row.
You're looking
Good, Bolie. You're
Looking sharp.
You gonna watch?
You fooling?
I'll yell so loud
You'll hear me
All the way to
St. Nick's.
[laughs]
You know,
A fighter don't need
A scrapbook, Henry.
Anyone know
What he's done,
Where he's fought,
You read it
In his face.
He's got the whole
Story cut into
His flesh.
St. Louis, .
Guy named
Sailor Levitt.
Real fast boy.
Here, and this,
Memorial Stadium,
Syracuse, New York.
Italian boy.
Fought like
Henry Armstrong.
All hands and arms.
Just like a windmill,
All over you.
First time I ever
Got my nose broke
Twice in one fight.
And then move
South, Henry.
Miami, Florida.
That boy got me up
Against the ring post.
He did this
With his laces.
Tired old man.
Tired old man
Trying to catch a bus
And the bus is
Already gone.
Left a couple
Of years ago.
Arms heavy.
Legs like rubber.
Short of wind.
One eye almost gone.
There I go,
Running down
The street
Trying to catch
That bus to glory.
Bolie, you are
Going to catch
The tiger tonight.
I'm gonna make a wish.
I'm gonna make
A big, tall wish.
And you ain't gonna
Get hurt none either.
You hear, Bolie?
You been hurt
Enough already. And
You're my friend, Bolie.
You're my good
And close friend.
You have quite a
Boy there, Frances.
You got quite a boy.
Talks like a little
Old man, you know?
I'm his good and close
Friend. That's what
He tells me.
Real, real intense.
I'm his good and
Close friend.
Well, you're good
To him, Bolie.
Real good.
Taking him to ball
Games all the time
And taking
Him for walks.
Take care of
Yourself, Bolie.
Don't get hurt none.
I'll work hard
Trying not to.
[footsteps]
I'm gonna make
A wish, Bolie.
I'm gonna make a wish
Nothing happens to you.
So don't you
Be afraid, Bolie.
Understand?
Don't you be afraid.
Oh, go on.
Bolie, that boy's
Got you in a shrine.
Who? A scared old man who
Don't remember nothing
Except how to bleed?
I don't fit
No shrines, Frances.
But you tell
Him, Frances,
You tell him
How much I'm obliged
To him for his wish.
He's all the
Time wishing.
Why, just the
Other night he--
What?
Oh, I needed $
For the rent.
Henry said he was
Gonna make the big,
Tall wish.
That's the biggest wish.
The big, tall wish.
He don't waste that
On just anything.
That's what he calls
The most important kind.
That was last Friday.
And a woman I did some
Nursing for on the island
Sent me a check.
A check for $ .
Little boys.
Little boys with
Their heads full
Up with dreams.
And when do they
Find out, Frances?
When do they
Suddenly find out
That there
Ain't any magic?
When does somebody push
Their face down on the
Sidewalk and say to 'em,
"Hey, little boy,
It's concrete.
That's what the world
Is made out of, concrete."
When do they
Find out that you
Can wish your life away?
Good luck
Tonight, Bolie.
Sure, Frances.
We'll be
Waiting for you.
Tell him I'll
See him later.
Hey, Bolie.
Good luck, baby.
You can take him.
Take him for me.
Best of luck, Bolie.
We'll be watching.
Try it, Bolie.
Feels okay?
Feels good, Joe. Thanks.
He's all ready.
Butt it out,
Will you, Thomas?
I wanna breathe.
You hired me
For the night,
Bolie baby.
It's a package deal.
Me and the cigar.
I said butt it out.
[crowd yelling]
Fe isty little old man.
The older they get,
The louder they talk
And the more they want.
And the less chance
They got to get it.
How did I get
You tonight?
Oh, I'm a
Bargain, Bolie.
I'm a expert
On has-beens.
I seen your boys.
Catches, aren't they?
Guaranteed two
Rounds each.
Shovel them in,
Shovel them out.
Sew them together
For the next time.
[chuckles]
Well, that's
The only way
To do it, champ.
A month or so from now
Maybe I'll sign you
At the back door.
Why not?
You're long
Gone, Bolie.
You've had it.
Wait till after tonight.
You'll wanna get
In the stable, too.
All you have to do
Is guarantee two rounds.
Two, three
Prelims every month.
Why, you can do that
Standing on your head.
Can't you?
I thought the smell
Came with the cigar.
You wear it all over you.
You stink, Thomas.
You tell 'em, champ.
You tell 'em.
[man knocking]
Jackson, ten minutes.
He'll be there.
What about tonight?
What do I watch out for?
I've only seen this boy
Fight once. That was a
Couple of years ago.
I ain't never seen him.
You watched him fight. You've
Seen him fight six, seven
Times in the past year.
You piece
Of garbage, you.
You're betting
On him, aren't you?
It ain't enough
He sells flesh
By the pound.
He comes in here for a dirty
$ . Supposed to help me
And bets on the other guy.
I may be a bum upstairs
In another ten minutes
But now I'm gonna fight
A beautiful first round.
You touch me and
I'll have you up
For ten years.
I swear to you, Bolie,
I'll fix your wagon good.
Lay off me, you cunning freak!
Let me look
At that. Sit down.
Wasn't enough
Spotting 'em all
Those years, Bolie?
Wasn't enough how you
Gotta go in the ring
With four busted knuckles?
Okay, Jackson, you're on.
Well?
Well, nothing.
Let's do it.
Oh, poor little
Henry Temple.
I've given him
Two strikes on
All his magic.
Two strikes.
Whose?
Nothing.
There ain't no such--
[groaning]
There ain't no
Such thing as magic.
[people yelling]
[punching]
(announcer)
There's another left.
Another right.
Jackson's knees are
Wobbling. He's hurt.
Bolie Jackson is
Definitely hurt.
Consiglio moves in on him.
[people cheer]
He jabs him
To the right.
Jackson is down.
Bolie, Bolie, Bolie.
One, two, three,
Four, five, six,
Seven, eight,
[no audio]
Nine.
[silence]
Ten.
[audience yelling]
You done dandy, Bolie.
Hey, Joe,
You were wrong.
Just bruised,
I guess, huh?
Gee, it hurt like anything
But somebody said I
Got him with it.
Couldn't have been
Broken after all.
Who said it was?
You said.
Jeez, felt
Like it, too.
Could feel the knuckles
Coming right up to
The bandages.
I could have sworn
It was broke.
And then when he
Knocked me down--
What? When he what?
When he knocked
Me down, Joe.
When he knocked me down.
I don't even
Remember getting up.
The next thing I knew,
There he was at my feet.
We must have been in
Different arenas together.
You didn't get
Knocked down, Bolie.
You was never
Off your feet.
I wasn't?
No. You carried this
One all the way, baby.
[chuckles]
Joe! I wasn't
Off my feet?
I didn't go down?
Read about it
In the papers.
Good night, old-timer.
I'm proud of you.
Beautiful, Bolie,
Beautiful.
You were
Just great, man.
Just wonderful.
You we great, Bolie,
We've seen you on
Television.
That was a right.
That was the real right.
Hey, what do you
Say, Henry Temple?
You are a tiger, Bolie.
You are a real tiger.
Did it look okay?
Just like a champ.
You know something?
That boy must have
Hit me so hard
It knocked all the
Hurt right out of me.
I don't remember
A doggone thing, Henry.
I must have really
Been punchy for
A second
'cause I thought
He had me on my back.
And there I was,
Lying there,
Looking up
At the ref waving
His arm down on me,
Staring at the light,
Blinking my eyes.
There must have been
Some kind of a dream
Or something 'cause--
Henry?
Henry, I never
Went down.
I was never
Off my feet.
Henry, I never
Went down.
Henry, was I?
Was I on my back
And on my way out?
Nobody remembers it.
Nobody at all
Except me.
I thought it happened,
But it didn't.
I thought I was
Lying there on my
Back, being counted out,
And everybody
Tells me that--
Bolie, I made
The big wish then.
I wished you was
Never knocked down.
I just shut my eyes,
And I, I wished real hard.
It was magic, Bolie.
We had to have
Magic then.
Had to, Bolie. Nothing
Left for us then. Had
To make a wish.
There ain't no magic
Or wishing or nothing
Like that.
You're too big to have nutsy
Thoughts. You're too big to
Believe in fairy tales.
If you wish hard
Enough, Bolie,
It'll come true.
If you wish
Hard enough--
Somebody gotta
Knock it out of you.
Somebody gotta take you
By the hair and rub your
Face into the world
Till you get the taste and
Feel of the way things
Are, don't they?
Listen, kid, I've been
Wishing all my life.
You understand, Henry?
I got a gut ache
From wishing,
And all I got
To show for it is
A face full of scars
And a head full
Of-of memories
Of all the hurt
And misery
I've had to live
And sleep with all
My miserable life.
Crazy kid, you trying
To tell me you wished
Me into a knockout?
You trying to tell me it
Was magic that made me
Get up off my back?
You're a little
Kook, Henry. That's
What you are.
How did I ever get mixed
Up with you? I ain't
Got enough trouble.
I got mixed up
With some dopey kid--
If you don't believe,
Bolie, it won't be true.
That's the way magic works.
Listen. Listen, boy.
There ain't no magic.
No magic, Henry.
I had that fight
Coming and going.
I had it in my pocket.
I was the number one out
There. It was me who done
It. Me, Bolie Jackson.
Hittin' and
Sluggin' and winnin'.
Winnin'!
Henry.
I can't believe.
I'm too old.
And I'm too
Hurt to believe.
I can't, boy.
I just can't.
Now, Henry, there ain't
No such thing as magic.
God help us both.
I wish there were.
Bolie, you've
Got to believe.
I can't, boy.
I can't, boy.
You've got
To believe.
I can't.
Please, believe.
I can't.
You've got
To believe, Bolie.
Ten.
[audience yelling]
[audience cheers]
You should've
Stood in bed.
How come you
Didn't use your right?
He's in bed, Bolie.
Can I see him?
Sure. I expect
He's waiting for you.
Bolie?
I'm real sorry.
Ah, I pulled
A rock, Henry.
I threw a punch
Before I should have.
Hit a wall.
Busted my knuckles.
I went in with half
My a*tillery gone.
You looked like
A tiger even so.
You looked like
A real tiger.
I was proud
Of you, Bolie.
I was real proud.
Bolie?
Now you go to sleep.
Tomorrow we'll go
To a hockey game,
And we'll get
Some hot dogs
In the park maybe.
Sure thing, Bolie.
That will be nice.
Bolie?
I ain't gonna make
No more wishes, Bolie.
I'm too old for wishes.
And there ain't
No such thing as
Magic, is there?
I guess not, Henry.
Or maybe--
Maybe there is magic,
And maybe there's
Wishes, too.
I guess the
Trouble is--
I guess the trouble is
There's not enough people
Around to believe.
Good night, boy.
Good night, Bolie.
(narrator)
Mr. Bolie Jackson,
pounds,
Who left a second
Chance lying in a heap
On a rosin-spattered
Canvas at St. Nick's Arena.
Mr. Bolie Jackson,
Who shares the most
Common ailment of all men.
The strange and perverse
Disinclination to believe
In a miracle,
The kind of miracle
To come from the mind
Of a little boy.
Perhaps only to be found
In the twilight zone.
(male presenter)
Rod Serling,
The creator of
Twilight zone
Will tell you about next
Week's story after this word
From our alternate sponsor.
And now, Mr. Serling.
Greetings from
The low-rent district.
Next week we follow the
Fortunes and misfortunes
Of Mr. Larry Blyden,
Who plays the role
Of one Rocky Valentine
An itinerant second-story
Man who's sh*t to death in
An alley one night
And goes to
His just rewards.
This little item
Here being one of them.
This one you can watch
With the tongue in
Your cheek.
It's called "A Nice Place
To Visit," next week on
The twilight zone.
[eerie music]
(male presenter)
Kimberly Clark
Invites you to
Watch Steve McQueen
In "Wanted Dead or Alive."
Saturday nights over
Most of the same stations.