Two narratives, more than a hundred years apart from each other, unite in this lightly mystical novel that shows peace can find a person even after hope seems lost. Coyote Runs (an Apache living in 1864) and Brennan Cole (living in America of the late twentieth century) are both in their mid-teens. Coyote Runs rejoices when the elders of his tribe invite him along on a horse raid. The men wouldn't trust a child on such a delicate and dangerous maneuver; this is proof that Coyote Runs in on his way to manhood. His Apache brethren are skilled at swarming the camps of white men and making off with horses, but their luck can't hold out forever. A botched raid ends with several massacred Indians, and Coyote Runs is unable to escape the white men who unleash their retribution in the form of a bullet through his skull. All his potential to serve his tribe is lost.
Brennan and his mother live alone, though men have entered and exited their lives. Brennan is used to not having a father. His mother's latest boyfriend is Bill, a good-natured guy in charge of a youth group. Bill invites Brennan and his mother to come with the group on an expedition along the canyons, and though Brennan prefers solitude when he communes in the outdoors, he agrees in order to please his mother. He, his mother, Bill, and a bunch of rowdy kids sleep under the stars near Dog Canyon that night, location of Apache raids a century ago, and that's when trouble begins. Brennan snaps awake in the night in a panic, thoughts racing through his head that aren't his own. A misshapen stone is gouging into his back, but it's not actually a stone: it's a human skull with a large round hole through the forehead. Brennan knows removing things from a nature site is illegal, but something in him insists he conceal the old skull and take it home. Is he losing his grip on reality?
There's a tragedy behind the skull, Brennan is sure. His knowledge of Dog Canyon is limited, but John Homesley, a biology teacher at his high school, might be able to help. Homesley has little to go on but Brennan's conviction that the skull is important, but the teacher calls in favors and conducts his own research into the skull's history. It's a sad story of an adolescent killed because of culture clash, and Brennan is powerfully affected by it. The boy whose skull he possesses deserved better than to rot in the desert as food for predators and scavengers; Brennan doesn't know what he can do to set right the wrong done to Coyote Runs, but he senses his only chance is to return the skull to Dog Canyon and trust the Apache boy's spirit to tell him what to do. He'll never take life for granted again.
A boy needs a father, and if one isn't available, a good surrogate is crucial. Homesley is that surrogate for Brennan, a caring teacher who respects Brennan's mission regarding the skull even though it seems bizarre. Homesley's mentoring started well before Brennan's part in this book, when Brennan was at risk of not passing biology class. Homesley taught him a few quirky facts about beetles, then confronted him with a remark that changed Brennan's perspective: "I can't believe you don't want to know things." What else could explain Brennan's lack of effort in class? Brennan does care about learning, he just doesn't think he's capable of comprehending biology, but Homesley shows him that isn't the case. He also teaches Brennan about the arts, especially music. Brennan doubts he'll have any interest in classical music, but the swelling, emotional pieces that Homesley plays for him from his own collection let Brennan see the wonder he's been missing. "I didn't know...didn't have any idea music could be that way..." Much like the Foxman in an earlier Gary Paulsen novel, Homesley helps Brennan become passionate about learning, as a good teacher should. Education has minimal value if it doesn't incite a desire to continue learning, and Homesley has done his part to turn Brennan into a lifelong learner.
It's hard to keep track of all Gary Paulsen's books. Canyons isn't of the same incredible caliber as The Rifle or Woodsong, nor does it match the insight and intrigue of Hatchet, My Life in Dog Years, or Paintings from the Cave: Three Novellas. I'd categorize it alongside The Night the White Deer Died or The Car, philosophical novels with a dash of excitement and drama. I might consider rating Canyons two and a half stars, and I recommend it for fans of Gary Paulsen's stories about Native American culture. One can learn a lot from what he has to say.