Sharks in the Time of Saviors

7 year old Nainoa Flores is gently carried back to the boat he has fallen from in the teeth of a shark. The shark holding him as if made from glass, like he was its child, head up out of the water like a dog. Later Noa will heal a boy's hand torn apart from a firework mishap.

There is magic at work here, the old gods of the island working through this golden boy. But Washburn can't let the story tumble along without dropping ominous portents, foreshadowing some grim future. Meanwhile Noa's two siblings, who interchange chapters tell their story. Of being eclipsed by their brother, or worse being plied for information about how he's doing. How it feels like they are being muscled out of the spotlight of their parents affections and how it sits like a heavy weight with them both. It's this dark cloud rumbling ever present in the distance and it hangs heavy over the story. And then it really starts to pour.

I'm embarrassed to admit how long it took me to realize I was reading an indigenous story, of the generational trauma of the colonized. How it breaks them and calls them home all the same. But man, just out of the teeth of winter and this was such a grey tale that just sat hard and heavy on the heart.