Part of the series A Brownsville Story.
Previous post in series: A Lesson Learned.

After I had calmed down, I went out for a little walk. Little walks almost always help.

As I was walking, I saw some pretty birds in a tree. There were so many pretty birds and ducks in Brownsville, and they’re great, just as long as you don’t

Just so long as you don’t get fooled by Derik when he points one out to you.

You see, a day or so ago, we were driving out to go and see birds when he pointed to some ducks on a lake. They looked gorgeous. “Wanna picture of them?”

“Sure,” I said, and opened the car door. I began unloading the tripod and set everything up. I attached my camera and the lens. I looked through and zoomed.

And thats when I noticed that they hadn’t moved. I looked at them. The mouth stayed in the exact same spot. The neck did not move. So I zoomed in further to check it out.

Some of the paint was chipping off.

Behind me, Derik roared with laughter as my cheeks turned red as I realized that they were fake. He patted me on the back and said, “I do that to anyone who’s new around here.”

When I asked him if he had ever heard of the story of the Boy who Cried Wolf, he eyed me suspiciously, understanding what I meant.

He asked me if I had ever eaten something called a knuckle sandwich. My eyes narrowed and my eyebrows shot up (somehow).

The experience did me some good, though. I learned to look at something closely first. On several occasions, I saw what looked like a white bird but what was actually a plastic bag.

Derik called these ceramic ducks, even though they weren’t ceramic. When I asked him why, he said, “That’s just what they’re called.”

I eyed the ducks closely. They did not eye me back. Then one of them moved. I gaped as it flew away. The others did not move.

“Poor duck,” I thought, “to be fooled by those.” It reminded me of when my dad would talk to my bed thinking I was on it, but I really wasn’t.

I smiled.

The next story in the series: The Brownsville Story: The Golf Carter