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The segregated South in 1959 is the setting for this intense novel about the journeys of two families, one white, one black, told from multiple viewpoints. Bobby and his older brother, Ricky, are driving with their mother from Cleveland to take their recently widowed Hungarian grandmother home to Florida. Also on the road is Louisa, who is traveling from Atlanta. When her beloved little brother, Jacob, 9, goes missing in Columbus, Ohio, her African American family fears that he is the victim of a hate crime. After Bobby's mother crashes the car, the two families come together on a segregated bus that is so crowded that Louisa and her parents may not be able to board, even at the back. The switches between voices get confusing at times, but each spare chapter is an intense, complex drama of political history and personal conflict, and readers will want to talk about the characters' changing viewpoints, especially Bobby's, as he witnesses the realities of Jim Crow laws and wakes up to his own racism.
Horn BookIn 1959, Bobby and his family (who are white) are driving from Ohio to Florida, visiting Civil War battlefields along the way. Interspersed with their story are first-person accounts from relatives of African American Jacob, who has gone missing. The two groups converge on a dramatic bus ride. Issues of racism, family, violence, and death swirl through the story, remaining primarily unresolved at the end.
Kirkus ReviewsIn 1959 on a Civil War battleground tour, a white northern boy has his own prejudices shaken when he sees Jim Crow in action in a Joycean exploration that seems uncertain of its audience. Bobby (of indeterminate age), his Civil War–obsessed older brother, Ricky, and their mother take the scenic route on the way to deliver the boys' grandmother and her car to her home in St. Petersburg. Meanwhile, 9-year-old African-American Jacob leaves his sister and her husband in Atlanta to visit relatives in small-town Dalton, Ga., and he's a little unclear about proper behavior around whites. When a combination of stress over marital problems and unnecessary, abject racial terror causes Bobby's mother to total the car in Atlanta, they send Grandma south and, much to Bobby's mortification, book a bus home. Bobby finds himself on the same bus with Jacob's family on an emergency trip to find the boy, who's gone missing, and Bobby's worldview takes an epiphanic hit. The narrative shifts from Bobby's perspective in a focused, third-person voice to the first-person accounts of a number of secondary characters. These voices, particularly those of the African-Americans, are mostly indistinct, their accounts seesawing from elliptical to expository. This, together with historical references that will likely slip past children and sometimes tortured syntax, derails prolific series fantasist Abbott's (The Secrets of Droon) attempt at an autobiographical historical novel. A laudable attempt to address an unfortunately still-timely subject, this novel feels more like a Modernist experiment than a children's book. (Historical fiction. 9-12)
School Library JournalGr 4-6 It is 1959, and nine-year-old Bobby's mother decides to make a vacation out of driving Grandma from Ohio back to her Florida home with planned stops at various Civil War battlefields and landmarks. Parallel to this narrative of a white middle-class family is one of a Southern African-American family. Nine-year-old Jacob is under the care and tutelage of his older sister and her husband in Atlanta, struggling to live within their Jim Crow environment and conscious about not making waves outside their insulated community. On a visit to Dalton, the boy innocently makes a public remark and then suddenly does not return home. In an incident much like the famous Emmett Till case, there is an implication that a similarly drastic outcome occurs, but it is not explicitly explained as the story progresses from multiple perspectives. Bobby and Jacob are worlds apart in their experiences yet closely linked in their na&9;vet&3; about bigotry's often fatal consequences. Bobby's family vacation turns sour as a wrong turn brings them to an obviously poor, African-American area. Bobby's panicked mother recklessly totals the car in a foolish attempt to escape. When the two families are forced to ride the bus, their paths cross at a bus station. Abbott's true-to-life descriptions and complicated story lines set in the volatile, pre-Civil Rights era will leave readers with much to think about and discuss when considering race relations in our country's history. Rita Soltan, Youth Services Consultant, West Bloomfield, MI
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Thursday, June 11, 1959
LUNCH-BOX DREAM (Chapter One)BobbyThey called them chocolate men, Bobby and his brother.
You didn't see them on the East Side, high over Euclid, except once or twice a week and only early in the morning.
Where did they come from? There were no chocolate boys and girls in his school or at church. There were no chocolate ladies living in his neighborhood. There were no chocolate families at the park or the outdoor theater or the ball field. And yet the men came every week to his house.
That morning, as he lay on the grass by the sidewalk, Bobby heard them coming again.
First there was the roar and squeal of the big truck. That was far up the street. It was early, the time when the sun edged over the rooftops, but warm for the middle of June. Bobby was sharpening Popsicle sticks into little knives while his brother watched.
"Hurry up," Ricky said.
Or not, thought Bobby. You have to do this properly. To sharpen a stick correctly you scraped it slantways against the sidewalk seams, and it took a while. With each stroke, you drew the stick toward you or pushed it away from you in a curving motion, like a barber stropping his razor in a Western movie.
Bobby wanted a thin blade, and his cheek was right down there above the sidewalk, with one eye squeezed shut to focus on the motion of his hand. The concrete scratched his knuckles, whited his skin, but you had to do it that way. You needed to scrape the stick nearly flat against the sidewalk to give you the thinnest blade.
Bobby would use the knife for little things. It could be a tool, or a weapon in a soldier game; it might be used to carve modeling clay, or as a casually found stick that on the utterance of a secret phrase became a lost cutlass of legend; or as a makeshift sidearm for defense on the schoolyard; or as nothing much, a thing to stab trees with or to jab into the ground to unearth bugs and roots or to press against your pocketed palm as you walked through stores downtown.
If his mother found one, she tossed it away.
Or he suspected she did. He had seen his sticks snapped in half in the wastebasket and he didn't think his brother threw them there. It was Ricky who had taught him how to shape the knives, though he didn't make them himself anymore. And it wasn't their father, because he was hardly home these days.
"Hurry up," Ricky said.
"This one will be good," said Bobby, taking his time to get the sharpest edge. "Maybe my best."
The truck moved, then stopped, then moved and stopped closer. The boys looked up. They watched the chocolate men jump off the sides of the truck. The ash cans were loud when they scraped them over the sidewalk and into the street, dragging them with leathery hands. Their yelling was not like the sound of the brown men and women who sang and played pianos on television. They approached, crisscrossing the sidewalk.
"That's it," said Ricky. "I don't want to be here when they come. I'm going in."
Bobby scooped up his knives, and the two boys ran inside. Ricky, a year older, was faster. They pulled the living room drapes aside and through the big window saw their cans being scraped and lifted.
"That one guy's huge."
"Did you see that? He took both Downings' cans at the same time."
Thick bare brown arms raised and shook the cans, the truck swallowed the trash, the cans were swung back and set down, and the men were on to the next house and the next. The boys watched from the picture window until the men disappeared down Cliffview to wherever they had come from.
"Let's go out back," said Ricky.
"I want to watch TV," Bobby said.
"No, let's go out back. I have a tennis ball."
"Bring the cans into the carport, please," said their mother. "Then breakfast. I have something to tell you."
"In a minute, Mom," Ricky called. To Bobby he said: "Let's go out back first."
"Yeah, okay."
LUNCH-BOX DREAM Copyright © 2011 by Tony Abbott
Excerpted from Lunch-Box Dream by Tony Abbott
All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.
Bobby and his family are visiting Civil War battlefields on the eve of the war's centenary, while inside their car, quiet battles rage. When an accident cuts their trip short, they return home on a bus and witness an incident that threatens to deny a black family seats. What they don't know is the reason for the family's desperation to be on that bus: a few towns away, their child is missing. In Lunch-Box Dream Tony Abbott presents Jim Crow, racism, and segregation from multiple perspectives. In this story of witnessing without understanding, a naïvely prejudiced boy, in brief flashes of insight, starts to identify and question his assumptions about race.