Eight months into his separation, Russell found himself back along the coast of Maine, teaching: giving, when often he felt like he had nothing left to give. Teaching students who had the appetite of wolverines and who daily, he felt, tried to climb inside his mind and scoop out anything good or useful that might reside there. Whether he wanted to hold on to it or give it to them was irrelevant—they came and took it anyway, stormed the burning fences to get to it. The gig went for ten days, and, knowing he would be in deep need of R&R afterward, Russell had made plans to visit his friends Sam and Sarah, who lived in Wells, farther down the coast. Sam and Sarah loved to cook, loved to eat, loved to feed him and hang out. Time will heal all wounds, they told him.
