Already Here, Already Watching

The duck was conspicuous.  For one thing, Hubert’s snorkel was clearly visible in the water beside it.  That it was construction-zone orange was just frosting.

“You know what?” I said, as Hubert sat in the shallows, dripping beneath his orange duck hat.  “I don’t even want to know.”

“It’s a camera,” he said.  “To watch when they come.”

“If they do, they’ll just catch you.  That thing is an eyesore.”

“It’s hunting season,” Hubert sniffed.  “Besides, aliens are colorblind.”

“Come home, Hubert.”  I tugged on his shoulder, and he rose reluctantly. 

Behind us, the ducks watched with dark, silent eyes.