A slightly spooky adventure story with a gender creative protagonist who uses a wheelchair.
Eleven-year-old Jerusha “Jerry” Blum and her mother have moved from town to town since Jerry’s dad died, staying at low-end hotels where her mom can get housekeeping work. Jerry is fine with the constant moving and being homeschooled; her feeling is that “friends complicate things.” She was bullied and pushed down the stairs at one school when another student didn’t believe she needed a wheelchair for her neurological disability. Her companion these days is Paul, a pocket-sized imaginary dragon with a Yiddish accent.
But when she and her mother arrive at the Slumbering Giant hotel, her mom says she has a steady job there and they’re staying put. Odd things keep happening there, however, from mysterious messages on the radio to strange lights in the nearby woods—woods where people have been disappearing. And her mom keeps going off to do “special work” that she won’t discuss.
Slowly, Jerry starts to become friends with Chapel, a local girl staying at the hotel while her family’s home is undergoing repair. Chapel likes creepy things and is willing to believe the disappearances are because of something supernatural. Chapel is also Black, and grew up in a mostly White town; she understands what it means to be an outsider and to experience microaggressions. Jerry tells her she’s the first person she’s met in a while who treats her like she’s “normal.”
When Jerry’s mom doesn’t come home one day, Jerry, Chapel, and Paul must venture into the woods to find her, armed only with a sword that Jerry’s dad picked up at a Renaissance Faire. But shadowy demons seem to lurk around every turn. Can they rescue Jerry’s mom, defeat the demons, and get to the heart of what is imperiling the town?
Jerry is a spirited and adventurous hero, clever but not infallible. Author Mo Netz makes it clear that her wheelchair is a powerful tool, and sometimes even an advantage over being on foot—although he also shows the micro- and sometimes macro-aggressions that wheelchair users often face.
While Jerry isn’t explicitly queer, she is definitely gender creative. (Netz called her “androgynous” in a tweet.) When she first meets the Slumbering Giant’s owner, Jerry remarks, “I can tell she’s trying to tell from my shaggy hair and my dad’s old flannel shirt whether I’m a boy or a girl. I kind of like letting people guess.” People usually assume “girl” once they see her wheelchair, Jerry explains, because it’s “Barbie pink.” Jerry hates the color, but the wheelchair was donated to her and is otherwise “a really nice one.” When the Slumbering Giant owner nods at the wheelchair, Jerry knows she’s “putting me in the ‘girl’ box in her head.” She explains that she hates pink not because she dislikes the color, but “I just don’t like people making up their minds about me so easily.”
Later, Jerry is thinking about her new friendship with Chapel and comments, “I don’t think I have a crush on Chapel, exactly. It’s more than that. Knowing her has changed everything, but at the same time, I feel like I’ve known her all my life.” It’s unclear if she’s making the comment because she’s aware that she likes girls but wants to let us know that Chapel is a friend and not a crush; if she’s moved beyond crush to a deeper romantic feeling; or if she’s not queer but making the comment just to clarify that. For the sake of this tale, it doesn’t really matter, though it does hint at the fact that Jerry would probably be okay with having a crush on a girl; the idea doesn’t seem to freak her out. (Personally, I’m betting on queerness—but then again, I always do.)
Happily, the book seems to set things up for a sequel, so we may get more information about Jerry’s identity in the future. Jerry and Chapel make a fun team, and it’s great seeing an adventure hero who uses a wheelchair—they’re an unfortunate rarity. I’m excited to learn more about the characters and their supernatural adventures in subsequent volumes.
Highly recommended.
Jerry and her mom are Jewish, with “olive” skin; Chapel is Black.
