Jay was kneeling down beside an old car in Mark's driveway. He had a can of Armor All in one hand and an old cloth in the other. He was rubbing the liquid into the ashy-gray bumper.

Mark came out of the house and stood at a slant behind Jay. He watched silently for a bit.

"Man I've never, our whole life, known you to wash your own car," he said, "and here you are wasting good Armor All on this piece of junk."

Jay kept coaxing the oil into the bumper. It was now turning a splotchy, but darker color.

"I remember this black plastic bumper from when we were kids," Jay said, "your brother used to park it here or over on A Street when he was dating Carol. It always looked wet, even in the hot sun. Almost looked alive."

Mark watched Jay a while longer, made a clicking noise, then went back into the house.