Deadville by Ron Koertge

From the Publisher

Ron Koertge's spot-on repartee highlights the wry, poignant tale of a teen who is numbed by loss but finds an unusual route to reclaiming his life.

Listening to music 24/7. Hanging out with his slacker-stoner friend, Andy. Basically, Ryan's been sleepwalking through life since his younger sister died of cancer two years ago. But when Charlotte Silano — a gorgeous, popular senior way out of his league — has a riding accident and falls into a coma, Ryan finds himself drawn to her hospital room almost every day, long after her friends stop coming around. And oddly enough, Ryan seems to be slowly snapping out of his own brand of coma — working out at the gym, adopting a cool vintage hat, even easing into a relationship with Betty, a classmate who has her own reasons for visiting Charlotte. With his incisive humor and quick-fire repartee, Ron Koertge explores the unpredictable workings of grief and the healing power of self-reinvention.

VOYA

Tenth grader Ryan has spent the last two years in a numb, marijuana-induced haze. Ever since his little sister, Molly, died of cancer, all Ryan does is smoke pot, listen to music, and hang out with Andy, the school drug dealer. When Charlotte, a senior Ryan barely knows, falls off her horse and lapses into a coma, Ryan is compelled to visit her daily. He spends countless hours at the hospital, trying to process what has happened to her and what happened to Molly. Charlotte's accident brings Ryan a new perspective on life. The boy in the room next to Charlotte tells Ryan about a place he sees called Deadville, a sort of waiting room where trauma victims decide which way to go, either crossing over to death or choosing to live. For Ryan, it is like he has been in his own Deadville for too long. He distances himself from Andy, joins a gym, and begins to date Betty, whom he gets to know when they both visit Charlotte. Ryan decides to stop wasting his life and pull himself out of his own comatose state. Ryan is engaging and clever, and his narration is driven by sharp banter with the affable if apathetic Andy and headstrong Betty. His grief feels authentic, and Koertge carefully reveals the full impact Molly's death has had on Ryan's life. Ryan's resiliency propels him out of his pain, and the undercurrent of hopeful possibilities eclipses the at-times heartbreaking sorrow. Reviewer: Amanda MacGregor

KLIATT

Ryan Glazier is dead—not literally, but figuratively dead to the world of responsibility, schoolwork, and anything that might imply a normal life. The only thing he knows are the drugs he takes. Everyone knows Andy, Ryan's drug dealer, and so by association, they know Ryan, who hangs around with Andy. Charlotte Silano is one of the most popular girls in the high school. She has a horrific accident that lands her in the hospital in a coma. For some reason that Ryan can barely articulate, he and Andy go to the hospital with many of Charlotte's classmates. For Ryan, this is a major step: he has a strong aversion to the hospital because of a family tragedy. But now that he has visited Charlotte, he feels he owes it to her to visit on a regular basis. So does Charlotte's volleyball teammate, Betty Bennett. On more than one occasion the two find themselves talking to Charlotte and about their need to visit. Not coincidentally, Ryan begins to more accurately see the life he has been leading, the odd relationship his parents have and the future that awaits him unless he changes paths. The novel is filled with hysterically funny scenes and the witty, sarcastic, irreverent voice of Ryan. It is also a story of hope and recovery that speaks to today's high school readers in a vernacular they will understand. Reviewer: Janis Flint-Ferguson

Children's Literature

Ryan's been in a drug-funk ever since his younger sister died of cancer. The numbness sure beats the grief. Then one of his classmates, Charlotte, falls off a horse and ends up in a coma. As her friends drop by the wayside, Ryan continues to visit her in the hospital and talk to her, encouraging her to come back. He knows what it felt like to be left all alone when his sister was dying. His parents had their own ways of dealing with their daughter's death. His father became more distant and a health freak, wasting away by eating greens and tofu. Another classmate is also drawn to the hospital and Ryan's unfaltering commitment to a girl he hardly knows. They start to date, Ryan begins working out at a gym and slowly he loses his taste for drugs. When Charlotte wakes up, Ryan is not given credit for all the hours he sat by her side, but he accepts it and goes on with his life. He has finally allowed himself to be happy and apologizes to his sister, hoping she will understand. Ryan deals with death in a very realistic way. Reviewer: Janet L. Rose

School Library Journal

Gr 10 Up

Ryan, a high school sophomore, is mourning the death of his younger sister, Molly, by smoking dope, semipermanently connecting to his iPod and disconnecting from his parents. When Charlotte, a popular schoolmate, falls from her horse and into a coma, Ryan is drawn to the hospital to talk to her. During his many visits, he meets the young patient next door who claims he can go to "Deadville" and talk to people in that limbo between life and death, including Charlotte. This prompts Ryan to begin to face his grief and explore the meaning of death. While the teen's introspection slows the pace of the story, Koertge masterfully maintains reader interest with rich, right-on dialogue and details about teen life, attitudes, and relationships. Some of the scenes in which Ryan and his friends get high are funny while others show the problematic consequences of each and every joint. Ryan's metamorphosis is clearly illustrated through changes in his choice of clothes and friends without being trite or clichéd. His choice of music goes from "What's Got Me Down?" by U.S. Mail Band to a Celtic folk song that, when shared with his dad, symbolically bridges the gap between them. Deadville provides some realistic, thought-provoking ideas about dealing with the death of a loved one. Readers who enjoyed John Green's Looking for Alaska (Dutton, 2005) will find another Miles Pudge Halter in Ryan as he eventually concludes that there are no simple answers about death and accepts that ambiguity.-Sue Lloyd, Franklin High School Library, Livonia, MI

Kirkus Reviews

A tender, thought-provoking story takes a teen from the depths of despair to happiness. Sixteen-year-old Ryan Glazier's heart broke when his little sister died of cancer two years ago. While his friends have gotten on with their lives, Ryan has plugged himself into his iPod and wrapped himself in a pot-induced fog. He's living in Deadville, a "not-here-but-not-there zone." Then the gorgeous and sexy Charlotte Silano, a classmate, has an accident that lands her in the hospital in a coma. Though he hardly knows her, Ryan visits her daily just to talk. Slowly, Ryan comes to terms with his grief and, with help from Betty, the girl he begins dating, Ryan triumphantly re-emerges into the land of the living. Koertge's talent lies in his ability to create believable situations, well-developed characters and quick, witty dialogue. Ryan punctuates his funny, first-person narration with literary allusions and so many musical references readers may wish for a playlist. Fans will not be disappointed. (Fiction. 14 & up)

Product Details

• ISBN: 0763635804
  
• ISBN-13: 9780763635800
• Format: Paperback, 224pp
• Publisher: Candlewick Press
• Pub. Date: October 2008
• Sales Rank: 69,701
• Age Range: Young Adult

• Read an Excerpt

Read an Excerpt

I’m washing my hands in the bathroom a couple of doors down from the principal’s office. Washing and rinsing. Soaping up again. Washing and rinsing.

"Hey, Ryan."

In the mirror it’s Tim Boynton, a guy I used to play soccer with. I nod at his reflection.

"Anything goin’ on?" He’s grinning big.

I tell him, "Ask Andy."

He flashes a couple of bills. "I’m asking you. Just a couple of joy sticks."

"I don’t deal, Tim."

"You did a couple of weeks ago."

"It was a favor to Andy, all right? A onetime thing."

"So where’s Andy?"

I hit the little button on the soap dispenser and start in one last time. "Dunno."

Tim puts the money away. Now he’s disgruntled.

"Well, tell him I’m looking for him."

I turn on the hot water and watch my hands wrestle with each other.

I run into Andy right after sixth period. "Tim Boynton’s looking for you."He gets me by the arm. "Took care of him in gym. C’mon. We’re going to Saint Mary’s. Charlotte Silano fell off her horse."

Andy scatters some ninth-graders who are jammed up at the bottom of the big concrete stairs. First of all, he’s a senior. Second of all, he’s huge. Or maybe it’s just that he’s huge. Anyway, they scatter.

I tell him, "Somebody said she broke her leg."

"Or her neck," he says. "Or is unconscious or, like, died."

"She’s not dead. If she was dead, there’d bean announcement. And not to sound too callous, but what do you care, anyway?"

"Are you kidding? She bankrolled a party every couple of weeks. My PR people tell me customers appreciate the human touch. Christmas cards, ‘how’s the wife and kids,’ a firm handshake. That kind of thing. So we’ll go by, and I’ll say how sorry I am to hear about her unfortunate accident.That way she’ll remember me the next time her and her friends get together to count their money."

"I don’t like hospitals."

He opens the door to his old Toyota, the only car in the lot with duct tape holding on its back bumper. "Five minutes away."

I stop with my hand on the corroded handle. "And I really don’t want to go to Saint Mary’s."

He gets in, starts the car, then pats the dash like it’s part of a big animal. "Keep me company. Wait in the lot if you want. I’ll be like three minutes. Then I’ll take you home."

I look toward the street, where about nine thousand kids are waiting. Andy knows what I’m thinking.

"Forget the stupid bus." He takes a spliff out of his shirt pocket, the place anyone else would carry a gel pen. "Look what I’ve got." His voice is teasing, playful, and insinuating. I feel like I ought to say, "My, what big teeth you have."

When we get in the car, I reach for the weed, glance around to see if anybody’s looking (anybody with a badge), then light it and take a hit. "Okay, but I’m waiting outside."

"Fine. You can guard the car. This baby’s worth a fortune in Bangladesh."

We’re easing out of the lot when Chris Teagarden backs out right in front of us in his red Mustang. Andy has to hit the brakes, and I reach for the dash to brace myself. I’ve got the seat belt on, but it just hangs there like a sash. Chris gives us the finger like the almost accident was our fault,then patches out.

Andy has both arms around the steering wheel, and he’s leaning his chin on his right hand. He looks almost thoughtful. "I hate that guy," he says calmly.

I reach into my backpack for my player, put the little earplugs in, and lean back. The window on my side is permanently down, so there’s always a breeze in Andy’s car. To my right is the long, roiled-up lawn of LBJ High.It’s a big, old-fashioned building with pillars in front and stone lions that flank the main steps. The stoned lions, as they are popularly know, because of their sleepy, semiblissful expressions. Inside, the ceilings are very high, like students fifty years ago were lanky with long necks andlegs. Now we’re short with metal in our tongues and ears.

A bunch of ninth-graders plunge through the crosswalk. They’ve all got small faces, and most of them are still wearing clothes their mothers insist on. A couple of the boys are holding basketballs like mementos of theFrench Revolution. To make that image complete, one of them has drawn droopy eyes and a frowny face on his Rawlings Special.

We take Foothill Boulevard to the hospital. It’s maybe ten blocks.

I sing along with the Killers’ "For Reasons Unknown" and let the dope run its hand down my ruffled fur.

"Hey, man, you asleep?"

I shake my head. "I’m fine."

"Senior history’s driving me nuts. What the hell’s the cold war?"

I sit up a little. "About fifty years’ worth of trash talk between the U.S. and the USSR. They were our allies during World War II, and then they got all feisty. When’s your paper due?"

Andy glides over into the right lane. "You’re so suspicious."

"When’s it due, Andy?"

At the stoplight we’re idling next to a black Maxima. The driver is this thirty-something lady who’s really put together: hair, eyes, jewelry. Everything matches everything else. Long dark hair like Charlotte Silano. Skin like hers. Charlotte Silano all grown-up.

Andy says, "Like next week."

I ask, "How many pages?"

"Four to six."

"I can handle that."

He reaches across and into the glove compartment, an easy move because the little door is somewhere in the backseat. He shows me a tightly wound joint. "Maui Wauie," he says. "You know how regular weed gives you the munchies for chocolate? The guy I got this from claims you smoke a little of this and you want pineapple and poo."

"Poi."

He nods. "I knew that sounded wrong."