You left your football in the school yard. It's there on the grass outside the bungalows. No, though. No. That's not yours. That one is new, and it's been wrapped in plastic with a yellow tie, like a police evidence bag. It's resting on a tee. Best to leave it. To the right is a person drinking from a jug. No, an animal. It's like a cross between a bear and a kangaroo, seated upright beneath a young tree, slurping molasses from a one-gallon ceramic jug. It grunts to you as you stare.