Chapter 3: The Board

We were both out in front of Will’s dorm at two twenty, backpacks on our backs and smiles on our faces, like we had just met up after class with no other plans. He wrapped his arms around me, I looked up at him and smiled, and we were boyfriend and girlfriend, chatting about our days. When we kissed, another student walking by suggested we get a room.

After a few minutes, Sylvia showed up, looking entirely too pleased with herself, backpack also on her back. “Well hey you lovebirds,” she said as she got close. “Are you ready for this little tour?”

The two of us broke our embrace, but continued to hold hands. “Ready as I’ll ever be,” I said with a shrug. My heart was racing; even though there was a lot of time left before the game, the idea that we would be playing it filled me with adrenaline. I almost wanted to run before we even got started.

“Good,” she said, and I started to orient myself by cardinal directions. The dorms all made a line along the southern side of campus, and Will’s dorm was no exception, though it was the eastmost one.

Sylvia continued, oblivious to my orienting. “This is the bell courtyard, and the concrete paths are in bounds as they square off.” It was a small squarish courtyard in front of his dorm, with a small brick wall holding five bronze bells in the middle. Flanking on the west was Smith Hall, and on the right Eastwood Hall. The courtyard was defined by concrete paths; the southern one part of a path that went by all the southern dorms, and the northern one forming a boundary with the quad.

Sylvia began walking, following the eastern concrete path as it ran by Eastwood, heading towards the quad. “The outside line of the path is the boundary line, but I recommend staying on the green.” We quickly reached that intersection, revealing the quad to us.

The quad itself was oriented east–west, and was a large green field with a smattering of trees. The path we were on continued north through the quad—the normal way to get from one side to the other—and the quad was bounded by path. The eastern side of the quad was mostly a collection of trees, aside from the flagpole, and east of the quad was the waterlily pond. On the western end of the quad was the chapel, with a wall-lined concrete patio in front of it; the patio jutted into the quad in the middle, with an arched opening in the wall, circling around an eternal flame pit that was ironically never one. A couple yards east of that patio, in the quad, was a collection of bushes and hedges, surrounding a pedestal that once had a statue of the university founder on it (but had been taken down my freshman year because of vandalism). West of the chapel was the rose garden, and then the sunken garden; we would get there in the walk eventually.

In the northeast corner of the quad was the short side of Jones Hall, and covering most of the northern border was the library. Beyond the northern end of the quad, the tree garden in full bloom.

We strolled quietly along the concrete path, and I took a moment to look at the flagpole, and I remembered it was almost always lit up at night—but had a small concrete wall around it, which could prove useful.

“Okay, extreme corner here,” Sylvia said as we stopped at the southeastern corner of the quad. Eastwood loomed in front of us, an extension as part of an oddly shaped building. “Remember, no going in buildings, even through this little hallway.” The door in front of us led into a small hallway further east, with a door on the other side that opened into the courtyard with the waterlily pond.

“Got it,” Will said.

We turned north and walked the twenty or thirty feet that Eastwood jutted out. Between the quad and the waterlily pond was another small courtyard with a bush-fronted brick wall and arched gateway in the middle—though there was plenty of space to go around the southern and northern ends of the brick (students had worn paths in both those places), and the one concrete path from the quad split the middle, through the gateway, heading east. Three ways through: a natural chokepoint.

Will paused thoughtfully once we reached that concrete path east, looking up at the gate.

“Something wrong?” Sylvia wondered.

“No, just thinking about bricks,” he replied.

I eyed the bushes in front of the wall, which could prove to be useful hiding places. Looking at the wall again, when it wasn’t the brick arch over the gateway, it was low enough that even I could conceivably climb it and jump over. Probably not a great idea—the bushes would make that more difficult—but good in a pinch.

Satisfied, Sylvia began marching east. “This entire green space is in bounds,” she indicated, pointing to either side. Once through the gateway, the green opened up into a larger plaza, the waterlily pond in the middle “As is this,” she gestured again.

The waterlily pond itself was a nice size, surrounded by a small concrete wall, with a wooden bridge across it. Nearby were several benches, clumps of bushes, and hedges that could be helpful hiding spots, but probably not.

Sylvia pointed to the hedges that defined the southern edge of the courtyard. “No taking that path along Eastwood, and the hedge line is the boundary.” She continued the sweep of her pointing to Science hall. “The steps of Science Hall are in bounds, and the patio and all that, but not the inside of the building.”

There weren’t too many places to hide in that courtyard, I realized. Maybe behind some of the pillars on the patio, or crouching behind the pond’s wall, or in the bushes. But with the sparsenes ... it would be a fool’s game to be there.

On the other hand, that made it a good hiding place because if Will realized that it was a bad hiding place, he wouldn’t check it so—

“Let’s go this way,” Sylvia said, pointing north and breaking my descent into game theory madness.

About half of the northern side of the courtyard was bounded by hedge, then there was a concrete path that we started walking down, leaving some green space between us and Jones Hall, west of us. Our eastern side was parking lot.

“This path is also boundary line,” Sylvia said. “No going in the parking lot.”

Once past Jones, we reached a small courtyard, the far northeast corner. This had a few benches around a small flower garden, but had no appreciable cover at all. The only reason I’d wanted for it to be part of the game was as a second route in and out of the courtyard we’d just come from.

“Path along this courtyard,” Sylvia said, pointing. “And then along Jones.” The path that circled the courtyard went west, past Jones again, with a small margin of grass. We followed that path, and I realized that at some point, Will and I had stopped holding hands, and I could tell that he was also deep in thought, analyzing the lay of the land just as I was.