"No, sir, we wasn't fooled by them lights
in the night sky. Illusionations, we call 'em.
Funny though, Willie disappeared that night!"
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Imagination Stories of Science and Fantasy
October 1952
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
Just where Willie went, I ain't sure. I wonder sometimes, especiallyaround harvest because that is about the time we found Willie wasmissing. I should pine after him a little. He was my son, but somehow Inever took a hankering toward Willie like I ought to. I got five otherboys a lot smarter, bigger, and nicer to look at than Willie ever was,besides four girls that's as pretty as they come. But when someonedisappears, like Willie did, even if you don't care particularly muchyou kind of wonder at times just how it came about.
Willie was near about fourteen or thereabouts. I never could rememberfor sure. He wasn't the oldest and he wasn't the youngest. But thenwith ten kids and ten ages to keep track of a man can't be expected toremember. Anyhow he'd be about sixteen now, since it was two years agothat it happened.
It was a bad time for him to be skipping off, too. We were in themiddle of harvest. We had corn to get in, besides which we had a bit ofa scare around here with lights flashing in the hills and funny noisesat night. The fellows who know call that sort of thing by some fancyname. "Mass illusionations," I guess they'd say.
Well, one night we sat down to chow. We'd worked hard all day, so wewere filling ourselves as full as we could. Ma is a right good cookwhen she bothers, and the girls do all right by themselves. When wefinished, Joey pops up. I think it was Joey. I can't rightly remember.When you got ten kids and ten names to keep track of you're bound tohave a hard time remembering.
Anyhow, one of the kids pops up and says, "Look, Pa! Willie's plate isall full up with chow and no Willie."
Ma looks down the row and tallies them up. Sure thing, nine kids and noWillie. I kind of wondered why Willie wasn't around. He's usually thefirst to eat and the last to stop. Ma looked worried.
"Well," I says. "Pass his plate. Don't want any food to go to waste."So, the plate is passed down to me. By the time it goes down the lineof kids there's one porkchop left. I eat the porkchop and forget aboutWillie for a while.
Next morning, Joey comes up and says Willie wasn't home last night.
"So," I says. "Willie wasn't home last night. Where's breakfast?" Malooks worried. Like I say Ma always liked Willie.
"OK, Ma," I pipes up. "We'll ask the neighbors. It'd be easy to spotWillie anywhere." That's what I figured. Even though I hate to say itabout my own son, Willie was plumb peculiar to look at. He had a headthat looked like it belonged on a man a hundred pounds heavier. It satlike a knob on the end of a scrawny, skinny body. A body too scrawny tobe much use in farming.
He sure was dumb too, that Willie. If you put him out to plow astraight line, he'd plow a circle. If you wanted him to plow a curve,he'd plow a zig-zag line. He wasn't like the other boys. Willie gotkicked out of school when he was eight. Not that the other boysfinished school, but he got kicked out real disgraceful-like. NowBennie, he set fire to the teacher's chair; Joey burned down the wholeschool building. But Willie, guldurn Willie, he read all the books hecould get ahold of till he knew more than the teacher: so of course,the teacher had to kick him out to save her face. Take Willie to pulla trick like that. Asked her such fool questio