Our son was in bed, asleep. “What do you think?”“Well, maybe. Do you know what they look like?”“Actually, I do and so do you. I’m thinking...of the Presleys.”That stopped him for a minute. While they weren’t close friends, they were more than acquaintances. We’d had them over for dinner as part of a bunch of people and we’d been to their house, once. They were younger than we were by about five years, maybe twenty-five years old, about as old as Kellen. They were both good looking, even kinda. "We are men!"The strange woman slowly made her way towards Dylan. "You were oncemen," she said sternly, looking down at the much smaller girl, "but nowyou are nothing more than fourth grade cheerleaders."Dylan looked around at his friends in dismay, all of them were wearingcheerleading outfits like his. The elementary schools logo proudlydisplayed on their chests. "Give us another chance!" he cried, hiscomrades quickly rushing over to plead their case as well.The strange woman looked around. More

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