3.5 Stars
There is a moment, in the beginning, where sweetness reigns, the innocence of youth, those moments where parents are reminded of the sweetness, innocence and goodness that abounds in their children in those snippets of time.
”’Do you want a nose, Mommy?’ he asks.
‘I have a nose,’ she says.
‘Do you want an extra one?’
‘Who wouldn’t?’
His dark curls need to be cut again, and he swipes them off his forehead. The leaves float down around them. The wooden roof, propped up on rough round timber, shades them completely, but beyond it, the gray gravel is patterned with sunlight and shadows, shifting as the wind blows through the trees.
‘Where are you getting these extra noses?’ she asks.
‘The nose store.’
She laughs, settling back on her hands, giving into the feel of the clinging dirt.”
It is their favourite part of the zoo, a quiet spot, and quiet is something rare in her life these days, as Lincoln rarely goes a minute without talking. Villains and heroes, superheroes are his latest obsession, her purse no longer her own, a temporary lodging for his superheroes, their swords and whatnots. His stories, the adventures he creates for these plastic architects of extraordinary doom and mayhem.
The afternoon is fading, and the zoo is closing soon, but Lincoln and Joan must head home, Lincoln lost in his latest episode he’s creating between Loki and Thor, Joan lost in thoughts of what to get a friend for their wedding gift, and now they’ve waited a bit too long and must hurry in order to get to the gate before they’re locked in.
And then she hears sounds in the distance, like fireworks or balloons being popped. Another. And another. And another.
But the zoo is closing in just a few minutes, so they must rush if they are going to make it, and she’s trying hard to convince him of this and to make sure she has all of his superheroes safely in tow, she doesn’t have time to contemplate and analyze what she’s heard.
And as they are rushing as quickly as a mother with a young boy dragging his feet can go, she notices that some of the scarecrows the zoo had put up for decorations have fallen, laying on the ground. And then she realizes those are not scarecrows.
She grabs hold of her son and hoisting him up to carry him. She runs.
When my oldest son was little, we lived not too far from a small Warner Bros. owned theme park, where a friend of ours worked as one of those mascots who dress up in costumes, sweltering in the heat. Since we could go for free, courtesy of our friend, and since my son was young then, and it was mostly wooded and cooler than our home, we went often. The attraction was supposed to be the animals, but they were supposed to be in a wild natural habitat, not caged, so the only way to see them was to drive through – which might have been worthwhile, but suffocating in a car without A/C. Apparently there were enough people not dissuaded by the voice telling you repeatedly of the dangers involved in rolling down your windows, since there were frequent enough deaths, and you heard about all of them if you lived close enough. More, if you had a friend who worked there. Local folklore says the animals were all set free, and that those who live in that area still see some of those lions and tigers and bears! Oh my, indeed.
This was where my mind kept returning as this story progressed, picturing my much younger self with my then young son, trying to find places to stay safe, trying to keep him placated enough to keep him from crying or talking too loud or getting angry at the unfairness of it all. Dealing with hunger. Questions.
My stomach is past being tied up in knots, it has turned into one knot; this large one has consumed all the little knots inside. My brain is throbbing from holding my breath so much while reading this intense story.
This is not my usual fare, I’m always leery of reading suspense books because I don’t like feeling this knot in my stomach, but lately the few I’ve read have not touched on a topic that is so timely, and one that I could imagine, knowing every day when the news comes on, that these types of actions seems to occur more frequently. Why, I will never understand.
This is intense, although there are parts where the tension does let up for a bit and then returns, kind of like the movement of a hammer being raised just to strike once again, overall, the feeling is just intense.
The author left open-ended some of the threads of the additional characters. I could understand, perhaps, leaving all but one open-ended, but that one? No. I think if it had been the last thing I had said, I would have made sure that someone knew…
I loved having the timeline for this story, seeing how the minutes were ticking by. Joan’s thoughts, as a mother, seemed realistic to me, as did Lincoln’s behavior – most of the time. I loved the bond between Joan and Lincoln, their bond, the love and trust they had in each other was what spoke loudest to me, and what kept me turning the pages.
Published: 25 Jul 2017
Many thanks for the ARC provided by Penguin Group / Viking