Another pickup from this past weekend. I had read Ghost, the first entry in the Track series by personal fave Jason Reynolds a couple of years ago, and it more or less blew me away. So it’s nothing but a shame that it took me so long to get to its follow-up, Patina, because I ended up loving and appreciating this story even more.
Ghost is an explosive story, literally beginning and ending with shots going off. Patina, in comparison, is a much quieter story, dealing as it does with the many routines and responsibilities of its title character. It’s a subdued tone that belies deeper, heavier themes, though. Still waters run deep, etcetera.
Reynolds’ dedication reads, “For those who’ve been passed the baton too young.” Patina is the story of a young Black girl forced to grow up entirely too soon. After the sudden death of her father, and after her mother’s increasingly degenerating diabetes takes away her legs, Patina “Patty” Jones, all of twelve, feels it’s up to her to pick up the pieces of their upended life. So she assumes responsibilities of the household, making sure her mother is taken care of and especially looking after her baby sister, Maddy. Unable to suitably take care of her daughters, the girl’s mother arranges for them to move in with her doting brother-in-law and his wife, which eases the burden some, but Patina remains convinced that the load is hers to carry alone. It’s a weight that is slowly but surely suffocating our protagonist. And so, like Castle Crenshaw before her, she uses running as an outlet and escape.
That’s kinda what running was to me. A way to shut people up. A way to… I guess, sometimes even shut myself up. Just turn it all off. Leave everything, all the hurting stuff, the unregular stuff that seemed so regular to me, in the dust.
This is only the second entry in this series, but it’s clear that one of the central themes in the Track books is about recognizing and dealing with trauma, using the act of running as a metaphor (the act of which, as Reynolds has previously stated, is your body dealing with physical trauma). It’s a symbolism that in Reynolds’ clever and poetic hands goes the distance. (The novel’s main conflict has to do with Patina’s reluctance to share her responsibilities and accept help from other people… while at the same time training for a relay race, which is all about relying and trusting your fellow runners.)
Ultimately what makes this story so compelling is that we’ve all had a Patina (or multiple Patinas) in our lives. They are our mothers and our sisters; our partners and our friends. Practical women who find themselves carrying the weight of the world on their shoulders. Women who, far too often, go uncelebrated and unrecognized. Patina recognizes, and it celebrates.
Compassionate and wonderful. Jason Reynolds never fails to impress.