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The protagonist and narrator is 16-year-old Frances “Frankie” Budge. She does not offer much physical description of herself, other than to say she “[isn’t] pretty” with a “really plain face” (10). Because she feels different from other teens, she prefers to blend into the background of social settings, such as the Coalfield public pool, where she meets Zeke. Importantly, because her brothers and mother work, she is alone all day during the summer of 1996. While she seems largely unbothered by her lack of friends, she is anxious about common teenage rites of passage, such as kissing and having sex. She assumes all boys to be like her brothers and the other teens she knows and thus initially believes Zeke’s interest in her must be sexual. As it appears this is not the case, she views him as a safe person with whom she can get the physical interactions she dreads over with.
As a teen, she is well-behaved and does not engage in reckless behavior, regarding the drinking and partying other teens take part in as uninteresting. She rarely speaks of her absent father, though she acknowledges that his infidelity and her parents’ subsequent divorce have certainly impacted her. Frankie asserts that she regards her father giving her half sister (whom she never meets) her name as humorous, though her insistence indicates a deeper hurt by this sign that she is replaceable. Frankie seeks to please her mother and wishes to be able to share all parts of her true, weird self with her.
As the summer unfolds, Frankie grows increasingly obsessed with the poster, especially the phrase and the image of the hands. She takes pride in the phrase, and its magic excites and energizes her. That Zeke shares in her excitement over the posters increases Frankie’s confidence in her artistic abilities; as a result, she gradually widens the circle of people with whom she trusts her novel in progress, giving it first to her mother, and later to a college professor.
When adult Frankie is confronted by Mazzy Brower for her role in creating the poster, she is filled with anxiety. She feels guilt over the Coalfield Panic, namely the deaths of two teenagers. Rather than deny her involvement, however, Frankie is honest, accepting responsibility for her role. Indeed, the poster continues to fill her with pride, and she feels a great deal of ownership over its phrase. Yet she selflessly wants to protect Zeke and her family from any negative repercussions. Her love for her husband and daughter is unmistakable, and Frankie repeatedly insists—despite the pull the past has on her—that she wants them to remain present in her future. Similarly, she respects and cares for Zeke, despite the brevity of their friendship and the forcefulness of its ending. She has fiercely kept their secret and, as it becomes clear that the poster’s authorship will be made known, strives to do what she can to keep Zeke from being harmed. Though initially she views taking full responsibility for creating the poster as disingenuous, as it discredits Zeke’s talented contributions, she consents to keeping Zeke’s involvement a secret. Ultimately, protecting him from harm is of a higher order than any acclaim he might garner.
In the end, the knowledge that her role in the poster will come to light brings Frankie a peace that allows her to finally leave the past behind.
The physical descriptions of Zeke—“skinny and twitchy,” “goofy smile,” “teeth bright white and painfully crooked” (9)—contribute to his characterization as socially awkward. He is portrayed as unlike the other teen boys in Coalfield, who are masculine and rowdy, insensitive and brutish. Importantly, he serves as a foil to Frankie’s brothers, who, as triplets, are interchangeable copies of one another and without distinct personalities. Frankie, though initially wary of Zeke, does not dispute their shared social-outcast status. Zeke’s role as the new kid in Coalfield is instrumental in the establishment of his friendship with Frankie. Because he knows no one, he is a kind of blank slate, able to make or remake his identity as he sees fit. He decides to go by his middle name that summer, suggesting a trying on of a new persona, a desire to distance himself from the person he was in Memphis.
His interest in so-called low art, such as comic books and graffiti, makes Zeke intriguing to Frankie, and she appreciates that he does not attempt to hide this part of himself from her. It encourages her to admit she is drafting a novel, and he immediately encourages her artistic passions. The declaration of his desire to spend the summer making art portrays him as a somewhat melodramatic teen with a hyperbolic view of his own art’s importance. Yet Zeke is not overtly proud, showy, or self-absorbed. That he does not wish to draw attention to himself or be in the spotlight suggests that making art for art’s sake—not fame or notoriety—is what drives Zeke to create. Indeed, as an adult he will maintain this approach, keeping a low online profile and refusing to use his real name in association with his art.
In some ways, despite his self-proclaimed weirdness and social-outcast status, Zeke is a typical teenager. He initially acts awkward around Frankie’s mother but is polite and pleasant, thus earning her trust. He lacks the overt masculinity and interest in sex that Frankie assumes to be typical of boys their age, and when their relationship becomes romantic, he and Frankie are more accurately categorized as close friends who sometimes kiss than as “boyfriend and girlfriend.” In this way, theirs is an atypical connection. His disapproval of his father’s affair makes him sympathetic to Frankie’s fatherless circumstances and likely contributes to curbing any sexual urges he may have.
Zeke’s mental illness and ultimate diagnosis of bipolar disorder impact his life most of all. As a teen, he is undiagnosed, and the extent to which he suspects he may have a mental condition is not clear. Once he is an adult, his diagnosis helps Zeke to explain much of who he is, namely that it causes him to become unhealthily obsessed or fixated, or, as he puts it, “get too carried away” (226). Though such mental-health struggles could have proven harmful to Zeke, he is able to manage his condition through the support of his family, doctors, medication, and other resources. Ultimately, his condition need not be at odds with his passion for art, and Zeke’s career as a comic-book artist, albeit a somewhat unremarkable one, seems satisfying.
Frankie’s mother plays an increasingly important role as the novel progresses. Frankie paints a contrasting picture of her before and after her divorce from Frankie’s father. Before the divorce, she is rigid and uptight, “frown[ing] a lot” (48) and appearing generally unhappy. Frankie admits to being “slightly afraid of her, even though I knew that she loved me” (48). The divorce and subsequent restart without Frankie’s father “loosens” her mother (48). There is a carefree lightness to her. She is cheerful and upbeat. Frankie attributes some of this change to her mother’s relationship with Hobart.
Frankie respects her mother, and they have a healthy relationship. When her mother suspects Frankie and Zeke may be growing closer, she provides Frankie with condoms; though she is embarrassed, Frankie understands that her mother does so out of love and concern. Her mother is careful to provide rules, boundaries, and stability for Frankie but careful also not to stifle her—evidenced by her allowing Frankie to travel with Zeke to Memphis. Similarly, she is concerned for Frankie’s emotional well-being, relieved when Frankie assures her the car accident was not a suicide attempt. She praises Frankie for her novel writing and recognizes that Frankie’s passions are unlike those of other teens. Importantly, she does not discourage Frankie’s nonconformity and repeatedly reassures Frankie that the trials of teenage-hood will be temporary. In short, she is consistently a positive force of support for teenage Frankie.
As her mother ages, she becomes increasingly unfettered. She is quirky and unique, becoming obsessed with collecting sneakers and generally living as a free spirit. Importantly, she is just as concerned for Frankie’s well-being as she was when Frankie was a teen. She attempts to deter Frankie from informing Zeke that their authorship of the poster will be made public, concerned that encountering him may prove detrimental to Frankie’s emotional well-being. In this way, she continues to guide and “mother” Frankie. Most significantly, she admits to Frankie that she has known all along that Frankie authored the poster. Despite Frankie’s worry that the admission would alarm and disappoint her mother, her mother does not stand in judgment of Frankie’s actions. Her unconditional support is an important force throughout Frankie’s life and informs Frankie’s confidence as an artist as well as her own role as a mother.
Initially, Frankie finds her elderly neighbor to be an endearing, albeit somewhat eccentric, man. Unaware of his acclaim as a former performance artist (which intrigues Zeke when he learns of it), Frankie has no meaningful interaction with him until her car crash. He plays an instrumental role in both preserving the secret of the poster’s origin and encouraging Frankie as an artist. He praises the poster as “absolutely lovely” (159). Because he is an artist himself, his praise lends credibility to the poster, elevating it as worthy of the label of “art” Frankie and Zeke have striven for. He does not question Frankie’s request that he hide the posters, nor does he challenge her assertion that he must keep her authorship a secret. In this way, he becomes an ally of Frankie’s, going even further by reassuring her that she is not a bad person—an assertion that comforts Frankie even into her adulthood.
Mr. Avery’s loyalty, however, is problematic, as he does reveal the source of the poster to fellow artist Henry Roosevelt Wilson. In this regard, he violates Frankie’s trust, causing Frankie’s worst fear—that her authorship will be uncovered—to come true. On the other hand, in doing so he arguably pays Frankie the highest possible compliment, insisting “she might be the greatest artist [he’s] ever known” (181). In the end, whether his revelation of the secret harms or helps Frankie is open to interpretation—and his revelation asks the reader to consider whether art takes precedence over the wishes of the artist.