Marie swung the camera to frame Mrs. Harris. “Can I eat some?”

“No,” the older woman laughs. “You’ll spoil your appetite.”

“That’s what Thanksgiving is for, food overdose.”

“Why don’t you video yourself peeling potatoes?” Ian spoke from the sink as he held up a peeler.

“I’m allergic to work.” Marie sniffed tartly. “Did I just hear a car door?”

“That must be Sally and John.”

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Turner swung in his chair and favored Cooper with a raised eyebrow.

Cooper held his hands up from the computer. “They took the initiative.”

Marie followed the women from the kitchen to the front door, then out on to the porch. A short blond woman and a tall thin man were walking hand in hand to the house.

“Hi, Mom.” Sally mounted the steps to the house.

As the pretend home coming continued for the camera, dusk settled over the great lake to the east, rolling waves catching the last rays of the sun in ominous red.

High above the lake, a silver streak of condensed vapor plummeted towards the water, moving so fast that it seemed God had taken a pencil to the sky and was drawing a line. A small silver ball seemed doomed until it changed course at the last second and raced across the surface of the lake heading west.

In the gully, next to a fake UFO, a small device beeped twice, then returned to silence.