In The Unsettled, we meet Ava after she has fled her comfortable home at 245 Turnstone Pike, James Creek, New Jersey, because of domestic abuse. She and her 10-year-old son, Toussaint, arrive at a family shelter in Philadelphia. It's decrepit, even foul, and Ava looks down her nose at this mélange of women, children, and their misery. How does she arrive at this place of disruption and instability? It started long before her abusive marriage.
The history of this instability is at the heart of this story. Ava’s childhood was spent being dragged from juke joints to speakeasies with her blues-singing mother, Duchess, exposed to adult situations no child should witness. Duchess, too, endured instability as her family fled terror and floods, winding up in a camp of disease and despair. Duchess prevails, however. She and her husband help found a black town, Bonaparte, which experiences a terrorist attack a la Tulsa but attempts to revive itself. Over time, most of the land has been “acquired” by white developers. Duchess fights to hold on to her remaining acres.
Ava leaves Bonaparte, hoping to escape memories of witnessing her beloved father’s death at the hands of white vigilantes who attacked the town. She doesn’t finish college, becomes estranged from her mother, falls pregnant by Cass Wright (a medical doctor and Black Panther), and later marries the man that would give her and Toussaint stability and a home (before his abusive tendencies surfaced). Ava is infuriating; her intentions are worthy, but her decision-making abilities usually include men. At the shelter, she plans her "escape" back to Bonaparte.
As much as I wanted Ava to be more attentive to her observant and sensitive boy, the author makes clear how circumstances and trauma govern interactions. Emotions reign supreme in The Unsettled. Ava and her mother both suffer from crippling depression. Toussaint is often hungry and sullen as he navigates a world in which adults are inattentive, absent, or inconsistent. A broken social welfare system and predatory individuals compound human misery.
Ava does find a home of sorts for her and her son (enter the unsavory Cass again). That part of the story is harrowing. I stopped caring about Ava by then; her fickleness did her in for me (kudos to Ayana Mathis for eliciting this response). Instead, I fretted about Toussaint, the only character with any sense. He demonstrates grit, intelligence, and wherewithal. He didn't have much choice. But the big question is, Do they ever make it back to Bonaparte?