In the fenced and security system-installed coach's cottage, it was Thursday morning. More keys had been added to Caydance's keyring. Griff was in the coach's office, re-planning afternoon practice. Caydance had finished reviewing student artists books. Inspired by Ben Patterson's tackle box and made by a woman who hiked in the mountains, a favorite work was a stuffed-full backpack. Into the outside, shaped thin clear plexiglass sheets had been seamlessly inserted, revealing different views of the backpack contents: a trail map, packaged dried apricots, clean socks, a rain jacket, bottled spring water, a blue enamel tin cup, red wine in a small unbreakable bottle, foil-wrapped cheese, crackers, sunglasses, bug-off, suntan lotion, an army-green sweater, a Swiss Army Knife, chocolate bars, and a rolled up poster of the scantily-clad Huygens football team (Where did she get this? Caydance wondered).

On her desk, Caydance unfurled the large sheet of mulberry paper on which she was creating images of her life since her summer marriage. Among the images she had so far drawn were views from beach house windows, Griff's new jeep, his team on the field, a barbeque on Presidents Lawn. Something was missing, and it was not the amazing amount of practice footballs that her father had provided. It was the courtyard and entrance to the school where she taught. She began with a detail of the tiled pool where in the center of the courtyard, orange fish swam.