Change the focus, ground them in the present. Pull out pencils and get everyone to start drawing? Angie’s a basket case. Suggest a hike? Bear. Okay, something that would engage all their minds for a time. What about . . . art, drawing, paintings . . . An idea struck me.

I moved to my locker and removed Shadow Woman’s drawings. “Angie, maybe you can help me. You mentioned at lunch that people may put a message, feeling, or story into their art. These drawings are by a woman named Mae, the original owner of the dogs. Some people called her Shadow Woman. What do you see?”

Angie had stopped pacing with the breathing exercise. She approached the drawings, which I’d spread out on an empty table. Dee Dee released her death grip on the sink and joined her, as did Stacy and Peter. Grace found a dust pan and broom and began sweeping up the glass.

“Very nice.” Angie arranged the drawings on the table by date, then selected one of the landscapes. “These are dated pretty close together, so not much difference in the way of artistic development, but she does use the full range of values, good texture, interesting composition.” She picked up the second landscape. “This looks like the same location. See this tree snag?”

I hadn’t noticed, but Angie was right. Both landscapes had the same distinctive tree, although in one drawing the tree was in the distance while the other featured the tree in the foreground. “I think I see people in this one.” I handed it back to Angie.

“Maybe . . . Yes, you’re right.” Angie gave the drawing to Stacy.

“I think they’re hikin’.” Stacy returned the sketch to the table, pointing. “Those could be backpacks.”

Grace finished her cleanup and joined us. “That drawing looks like two men running in a fog.”

“Or a cloud.” Dee Dee nodded. “Maybe angels? Running to help?”

“Could be.” Angie tapped the sketch with her finger. “But what are these two lines? A path? Road?”

Stacy grinned. “I’d say that’s an unfinished sketch of Jacob’s ladder. You’d just need lines going across the two lines.” She looked at us, then shook her head. “Y’all know. From Genesis. Angels in the clouds.”

“‘Behold a ladder set upon the earth, and the top of it reached to heaven: and behold the angels of God ascending and descending on it.’” Dee Dee grinned back at Stacy. “That’s good. Really creative.”

“The whole thing could be an allegory,” Angie said. “I’d love to hear what the artist was thinking.”

“What about the portraits?” I asked. “I think this one might be a self-portrait. But they all seem . . . off. Well, at least the ones I recognize—Sam and Roy—aren’t perfect likenesses.”

Angie studied the four portraits. “Fascinating.”

“What do you see, Angie?” Grace asked.