The Twilight Zone: "Mr. Bevis-Redux..."

The Twilight Zone: "Mr Bevis-Redux..." Part I

The Twilight Zone: "Mr. Bevis-Redux..."

Summary: The TZ episode featuring the rather eccentric but lovable Mr. Bevis gets a bit of tweaking...But it's still Orson Bean (worth looking up his work on YT) in the character role.

Disclaimer: He may be dead but only Rod Sterling owns "Twilight Zone" and no copyright infringement intended.

"Mr. Bevis Redux..."

Submitted for your approval: In the city, in the year 1960, lives a certain gentlemanly young fellow named James B.W. Bevis. Scion of a noble line of men leaning to the eccentric or, in modern 1960 parlance, an oddball by most standards, whose tastes tend toward zither music, stuffed animals (both of the toy and taxidermy variety), model ships, professional football, Charles Dickens, moose heads, carnivals, dogs, children, the elderly, the hapless, and young ladies. A man accident prone, at times vague then profound then vague again, a little discombobulated, with a life that veers from disaster to near-death disaster. But the saving grace of J.B.W. Bevis is that he is one of those people who makes the world a better place for most by the warmth of his heart and possesses the family trait of what may be the truest courage...Unspoken, often overlooked, and always, utterly spontaneous. Dame Fortune has generally played him a rough game...But he is about to find that the Lady has a soft spot for J. B. W. Bevis, a soft spot, in the Twilight Zone.

The rooming house apartment of James B. W. Bevis...A comfortable enough place he secured, after losing his last apartment following a dispute over back rent spent to help a hungry homeless family, several stray dogs, and an elderly teacher stuck by a car and unable to pay her medical bills, on the recommendation put forward by an old college friend. The apartment, a simple affair of small kitchen, small living room/office, small bedroom made more comfortable by James by his massive collection of personal items collected throughout his rather curious life... An old desk bought at a yard sale and stained by James to a deep cherrywood...Covered or, littered, his disapproving landlady might say, with an assortment of oddities including a stuffed owl, several other smaller stuffed birds, several model ships, including a rocket ship, books on subjects ranging from philosophy, theology, and history to the works of Charles Dickens, to books on colonial cookery, how to speak Mandarin, how to tell jokes, and various comic books, three different antique clocks from various eras, a rock that might have been a meteorite, or not... On the mantelpiece of a false fireplace, a dangerously large collection of photos of family, friends, acquaintances, people met on the street who somehow seemed appealing to J.B.W... On the floor, bowls awaiting any number of stray dogs and cats who might or might not return, several throw rugs and bits of interesting carpet, several completely unmatching chairs bought or found and taken home on whim and fancy and what might be called a sofa of sorts... The walls covered in pictures from neighborhood artists bought when funds allowed to save the artist from starvation, or in some cases given with thanks for services rendered, or hauled out of the trash to save a work that caught James' eye for some reason no one else is liable to fathom and of course, more photos, including a number of the strays who'd been his guests at various times.

J.B.W. himself enters from the equally cluttered bedroom, in a tearing hurry, seeking to grab some coffee from the antique coffeepot in the tiny kitchen, dressed in his trademark out of fashion suit and bow tie. Up very early to hear the birds and watch the dawn, a fascinating book on Japanese poetry has kept him a bit behind...

Gulping coffee and smoothing hair desperately he rushes out and begins downstairs, pausing to greet another tenant, a young woman who beams at him, returning the greeting effusively. Though not exactly enamored of him, it's hard for anyone who knows him for any length of time not to like J.B.W. Bevis. She smiles to see him pause to pat and hug a small dog on the stairway landing, feeding him a treat that was probably his only breakfast... He hurries on but pauses to greet a young newsboy delivering papers who eyes him with glee as he stands at the top of the stairway, eyeing the bottom of the stairway bannister then back up to Bevis who nods and smiles, hopping on to the bannister and sliding down to him...