He comes tearing down the street on his low-rider, hanging onto the chopped handlebars with they're a couple of vines. His chrome helmet reflects the awakening street lights, shining them back at themselves.

The neon skull stem valves blink with each rotation of his wheels, making green loops in the dimming light.  He turns into the driveway, back tire locked up and screeching, and dismounts...light saber hanging from the tab of his carpenter jeans.  Typical boy equipment, that.  Bikes to ride into battle on and light sabers to fight dark forces with.

He grins up at me, showing me his jagged and uneven teeth...the recent result of another laddish escapade.  I can see strands of sweaty blonde hair creeping out from under his silver lid and think to myself that he really needs to take a shower tonight, no matter how much he protests that he doesn't need one.

"Hey mom.  Is it time to come in?  Hey, I can make my wind up Yoda do back flips and land 'em too! Wanna see?"

"Sure do....y'know, you really have to take a shower tonight.  You probably stink."

"Awwwww! Man, do I hafta?  I don't stink, I used deodorant yesterday!"

"Yeah, Jake ya do hafta.  Sorry bud, but I won't have stinky boys living in my house"

"Man......that stinks.  Can I show you my Yoda first?"

"Sure you can...."

And we walk into the welcoming kitchen, shutting the night, the bike and the dark forces out behind us.