When is forgiveness not acceptable? That's the question McClintock seems to be posing in this brief but moving novel. It's the story of Jojo, an ex-thug returned home after serving two years in prison. No one on the block is happy to see him again, least of all Ardell, the brother of the boy Jojo beat with a crowbar. But Jojo seems to have reformed is quiet, deferential, and stays home to care for his ailing mother. Rallied by Ardell, the neighborhood begins to seal itself off from Jojo, not even allowing him to buy items at the corner store or call a taxi to take his mother to the doctor. Violence seems inevitable, and is, yet this doomed predestination lends a tragic power to an otherwise slim narrative. McClintock's boldest stroke is to tell the story from the point of view of an unnamed (and ungendered) child whose proximity allows him or her access to the inscrutable half-lives observable from people's porches and sidewalks. Perfect for reluctant readers up for some soul-searching.

The notorious Jojo is released from prison and returns home. He's trying to get on with his life, but no one can believe he's changed. Ardell, whose brother is in a coma because of Jojo, hopes to drive him out of the neighborhood and ultimately takes justice into his own hands. This well-paced, provocative story effectively questions right and wrong.