The art school was empty for months—only the librarian, a security guard, and coyote walked the halls. The librarian who kept the school’s memory eventually moved offsite to protect historical documents. An occasional contractor surveyed the grounds. The coyote living in the school meadow walked down the long cement ramp leading to the sculpture and painting studios. It moved slowly, so as not to stir the dust, and held a key in its mouth. That evening as the security guard performed his rounds, he was startled to find all the doors of the school wide open.