LOCKJAW

Horror lurks in a small town.

People mind their own business in Bridlington. A crew of 11-year-olds, led by spirited Paz Espino, who’s Latina, bike around the forbidden places in town, and the police chief and his son keep everyone in line. When Asher Gordon, a white trans runaway, comes to town, his presence stirs up tragic memories and even more tragic ghosts. Told in multiple third-person perspectives—from major characters to Asher’s dog, Bird, to the town itself—the story experiments with temporality and moves forward in fits and starts, often stopping just when some interesting action occurs to go back to a different character or different timeline. There’s plenty of on-page oppression; while slurs are never written out, they’re described (for example, as “a break in your armor,” for Vietnamese genderqueer Beetle, or adding “a ‘y’ to a known fact,” which requires readers to mentally run through possible insults). Repetition is used to middling effect: A “rotten” smell pervades the town, slushies indicate the presence of a child, and characters’ experiences of feeling too hot or too cold stand in for other atmospheric descriptions. Supernatural horror and the banality of evil intertwine as the story twists and turns, the bad guys (and gals) get their due, and those who deserve to eventually triumph.

A little more challenging than rewarding.