The Hillbilly Chronicles is a collection of fictional short stories by D L Ennis.
The Hillbilly Chronicles are stories of the citizens of the fictional mountain community of Pig Waller Holler, Virginia. I have chosen to use the same narrator, who shall remain nameless for now, to narrate all of the Hillbilly Chronicles stories giving them more unity and allowing readers to feel more closeness to the people of Pig Waller Holler.
Our narrator is a laidback man in his mid-fifties that may just be a little wiser than most of the charters in the stories, at least he likes to think he is. One thing is for sure is, he has a thesaurus and he’s not afraid to use it.
You can listen to this story on my podcast here…
My wife and I are what some people may label, hillbillies. Well, we do live way back in the mountains; which incidentally, could hardly be characterized as hills. However, we are somewhat more sophisticated, and educated, than the average citizen of these forest.
One night last year, my wife and I were sitting out on the deck admiring the clear sky and superfluity of its ornate glowing spheres and something strange happened; my wife, whom shall remain nameless, said to me, “Look at that star, it looks like it’s spinning.” I looked and retorted, “That ain’t no star; it’s an airoplane.”
Well, it kept getting bigger and brighter, and as it got closer I could see that it wasn’t an airoplane after all, and it was indeed, spinning. Abruptly, things acquired an air of incongruity uncommon to our knowing; a conic beam of light reached down and spread its perimeter around my wife—the way the light was reflecting off of her porcelainate face, she looked for a minute like she was experiencing her fifteen minutes of fame within the dispensation of the Hollywood Squares; I was, for a moment, covetous.
All at once, that celestial shaft of light picked my wife up, and as it dissipated from the ground up, she, and it, vanished; it was at that moment that I knew, that my wife had been Alienated. Those little space suckers just sopped her up, like gravy to a biscuit, into the bowels of their gyrating orb, and were gone.
Well, I got me another cup of coffee and went back out to the deck to watch the heavens and ponder the curious event that had just come to pass before my very eyes. Before I knew it, the night had matured; it was after midnight, so I picked myself up, went into the house and went to bed.
I thought for a minute, while lying there, alone, in bed, about where they had taken my wife and what in the devil they could want with her. I mean, it’s true; she is both attractive and intelligent, for a woman in these parts, but still, I was befuddled as to what they would do with her now that they had her.
I fell asleep perplexed and woke up just after three, ante meridian, and there she was, my wife, lying there beside me, asleep, with a big smile on her face and mumbling something. I leaned closer to try and comprehend what it was that she was saying. Then, as clear as a bell she said, “Come here you little space-devil. Bring those big ears over here and give me some more of that good stuff.”
Well, she moaned and convoluted and squirmed, and without any apprehension, for at least half an hour. If it hadn’t been for the profligate smile on her face, I would have thought that she was having a paroxysm, or spasms, or something. I was now, to a fault, convinced that she had categorically, been Alienated. She had been extraterrestrially befouled, but, much to my vexation, she seemed to have had the time of her life. So, I turned over and wafted into slumber.
About three months later, my wife had put on a more than a bucket full of weight; her torso had taken on the appearance of a fifty-five gallon drum. We had never discussed the night of the intergalactic occurrence, but every night, she would sit on the deck staring into the empyreal, beamishly amused by something that she did not feel motivated to disclose. I always gave that time to her and just watched her distant stare and mystified smile. Well three months to the day, we were sitting on the deck watching the night skies, her grinning like a child that had just gotten away with some mischievous deed, and me scratching my head in stupefaction, when here it come again. The beam of light picked her up, this time—with her added weight—somewhat more arduously, and carried her up to their alien craft. I watched with incredulity.
Then, the phenomenon got exceedingly peculiar; they did not fly off, but hovered. A few minutes later the beam reached back down to my wife’s usual perch on the deck and here she come, descending, as thin and as beautiful as she had been before the Alien’s had first called on her. I watched with awe as she drifted, ever so lightly, down onto her customary al fresco roost. She was smiling and just’ a waving and blowing kisses. As I watched her, I suddenly heard little voices, several of them saying, “bye ma, bye, bye ma,” and it was at that exact moment in time that it became crystal clear, and there was not a doubt in my thinking, that my wife had been totally and completely, Alienated.
I never said a word about it, and she never volunteered to talk about it. So, every night, she sits on the deck her eyes to the heavens, smiling, while I, my sanity intact, continue to be befuddled and flummoxed by the sum total of the occurrence. The End
Copyright © 2005, D L Ennis, All rights reserved.