This is a surprising and welcome treat from 2003 Newbery Medal winner Avi. I've read good books by the author in a variety of genres, from historical fiction to school comedy to quirky fantasy and beyond, and I've read a few that rose well beyond "good". Crispin: The Cross of Lead is a well-built piece of historical literature, and so is The True Confessions of Charlotte Doyle, which did everything possible to deserve the silver Newbery emblem one can find emblazoned on its cover. I hadn't found another book from Avi of quite that high a caliber, however, until I stumbled upon Wolf Rider, and in those suspenseful nights I spent buzz-sawing from cover to cover, hardly able to tear my eyes away from the text for even moments at a time, my perception of Avi as a writer grew by leaps and bounds. Wolf Rider may be the closest I've ever seen any author come to writing like Robert Cormier. Far from being just another teen crime thriller, Wolf Rider is nearly as raw an experience as one could hope to have in a book, all kinds of emotions flaring uncomfortably high, possibly bringing the reader literally to the edge of his or her seat in rigid indignation at the almost universal dismissal of Andy's persistent fears regarding the call he receives that starts the whole nightmare. What would you do if confronted with similar disinterest, rejection and outright accusation when all you wanted was to make sure a death didn't happen on your watch, that you had done everything in your power to avert catastrophe before it becomes tragedy? One doesn't have to wonder about that too hard while reading Wolf Rider. The scenario jumps out from the book and messes with the reader's mind in subtle psychological ways, drawing one right into the heart of the story as less skillful writers couldn't hope to do. How would you respond if trapped in Andy's claustrophobic situation? You're about to find out the answer.
The phone rings, its familiar trill looming in the kitchen as it does every day, but nonstop terror rushes into Andy Zadinski's life as a result of what he hears on the other end of the line. A male voice identifying itself only as "Zeke" delivers the matter-of-fact statement that he has just killed a girl named Nina Klemmer. He hadn't intended on killing her, never planned to pick up the gun and end her life with a well-placed bullet. But you see, Nina wasn't interested in Zeke, no matter the painstaking overtures he made to win her affections. Nina would never be Zeke's girl, and that was evidently too much for him to handle. As Andy listens to the disurbing details of the murder laid out by the effectively anonymous caller, he gestures for his friend Paul to hook up with a policeman to trace the call and figure out what's going on, but Paul doesn't act quickly enough. The call is never traced, and no murder of any girl named Nina Klemmer is reported. The man who was Zeke slips away, an ephemeral voice disconnected from body or purpose, and only Andy knows the seriousness with which Zeke spoke of the horrible act he'd committed. The police urge Andy to forget the matter, to dismiss what was obviously a prank call and understand that without an actual crime against any girl named Nina, all he heard was a disembodied voice casting vague threats.
But Andy is sure there's more to Zeke's call than a prankster blowing off steam. Though he may be only fifteen himself, Andy recognized a quiet deadliness in the caller's voice that should not be ignored, and he isn't about to leave Nina to her own devices, whoever she may be. When Andy looks through the college directory in his professor father's office, he runs across Nina Klemmer's name listed as a student at the university. Now he knows there's a real Nina, but the police remain unimpressed by the stats sheet he's compiled on the perpetrator and alleged victim. Nina may be a real student, but who's to say she's in any actual danger from the guy who called Andy seemingly at random? No crime has been reported against Nina, so there's nothing the police could do even if they were inclined to act on Andy's tip.
As Andy unearths new information at a rapid rate and is forced to make crucial decisions without enough time to think them through, his mistakes begin piling up on him; and in such a volatile situation as this, those mistakes could easily blow up in his face. The police have no solid leads on "Zeke", but there is a growing case against Andy, for everything from harassment to intentionally misleading the police. External pressure mounts for Andy to drop his fixation on Nina and get back to normal life, but that's nothing compared to the pressure pushing back from inside himself. For whatever reason Zeke called Andy to talk about a murder that apparently never happened, it was Andy he called, and there's no taking that back now. Andy feels the weight of responsibility square on his shoulders to do something with what he knows before a simple mysterious phone call turns into a murder investigation, and leaves him with the full sickening awareness that he had been the only person with any chance of preventing the crime before it took place. No matter how hot tempers flare around the house and at school, with every authority figure of any station in Andy's life loudly insisting he stop obsessing over Nina before his borderline behavior turns undeniably into stalking, Andy won't give up on his perceived responsibility to Nina. He can't give up on it, as long as he knows there's someone out there whose fixation on Nina runs much deeper than his, and could be deadly instead of merely protective. But if Andy isn't going to receive any help from the police, his father or school officials in saving Nina, is there some way he can find Zeke on his own and prove to everyone his concern for Nina was warranted all along?
With reckless disregard for his own safety on the trail of a possible psychopath, Andy lurks in wait to draw the tiger from its habitat and pounce on its swinging tail, not caring that on the opposite end of any tiger is a vicious set of teeth. Andy's life has devolved into a nightmare of false accusations and misunderstandings, people blaming him for what he heard and haranguing him into giving up the idea that Nina needs any kind of savior, and now his only chance at redemption from an increasingly traumatic set of personal circumstances is to deliver on the hope of catching Zeke at his own game, turning the tables on the mystery caller and outing him the same way Zeke was so easily able to mask his true identity from Andy during that first call: by manipulating the anonymity of the phone system, putting Zeke on the defensive. But the tiger always does have a set of snapping teeth ready to fatally wound its enemies, no matter how scared it may be of them at first, and as Andy searches for a way to out Zeke publicly, he must hope the would-be murderer is having less luck tracking down Andy's identity. Because once the tiger has its prey in sight, how long can it be before the weaker party becomes his next meal?
What about Wolf Rider makes it so palpably compelling, the sort of story that sticks in one's throat and won't move up or down, causes one to break out in a sweat, manufactures such a convincing illusion of danger that it goes beyond feeling like a well-told story and affects the reader's nerves directly, as if the threat were present in real life? Much of that extends from the reaction of the police and Andy's father to his reports about Zeke's call. Instead of focusing on Nina as a potential victim of "Zeke" and working out ways to preserve her life from the imminent threat, the adults in Andy's life choose to focus on the teenager who reported the call. Rather than adapting a proactive approach to the case based on a "better safe than sorry" methodology, they elect to believe Andy has taken a harmless prank too seriously. The police suspect the prank call may have even been set up by Andy so he could justifiably stalk a pretty college girl, but Andy's father isn't willing to go along with that idea just yet. His mounting frustration with Andy is more along the lines of believing his son has blown the entire deal out of proportion and won't listen when told he's gone too far, and he fears Andy's mental health is tipping out of balance as the fifteen-year-old becomes overly mindful of Nina and her doings. This is the attitude Professor Zadinski maintains throughout most of Wolf Rider, pleading with Andy to forsake his new muse, then angrily threatening him when the pleading doesn't work. Why won't Andy give up his obsession with Nina, he asks again and again, most of his pointed questions for Andy a restatement of the same inquiry. But I think what the professor isn't understanding is a vital point Andy skirts around numerous times in their blowup arguments, without ever stating it concisely enough to appeal to his father's scholarly logic. Zeke's phantom murder confession may be a hoax, or it may have been a one-time cathartic phone call by some lonely soul infatuated with a girl he can never have. This is true, and Andy knows it. But if Nina Klemmer turns up dead, shot by an assailant known or unknown, and Andy had been tipped off ahead of time that it was going to happen and was unable to do enough to convince the police or even his own father that protective measures needed to be taken to save the girl's life, the guilt will haunt him forever. Who could feel anything but soul-consuming guilt at the knowledge that one was given practically premonitory awareness of a murder in its nascent stages, yet essentially did nothing about it and allowed the killing to take place? With every heated screaming match between father and son, nothing ever solved because Andy's father isn't getting why this is so important to Andy that he can't let it go even after all the warnings levied against him, and Andy refuses to turn his back on Nina as long as he knows she may still be in mortal danger, I kept hoping Andy would make it clear the reason he can never drop his involvement with Nina is that if he did, and anything happened to her, he would never be able to forgive himself for not doing more to stop it, and understandably so. This isn't about Andy knowing for sure Nina's life is at risk; it's a matter of it being a definite possibility, and the police having already decided no legitimate threat exists. Who is there to help Nina if even the police won't take action? It's a lonesome position Andy has been put in, but he's isn't taking it lying down. I wouldn't have expected anything less, though few would show such tenacity in the face of so many threats from so many authority figures.
Wolf Rider is such a marvelous artistic success because it isn't only a captivating crime drama; it's a fascinating look at human behavior, at what changes when one turns a few dials and twists a knob or two. Avi does the turning and twisting with flawless precision, and after that the story drives itself, propelled by the heat and intensity of the characters' emotions to places the author couldn't have taken it in his own strength. Powerful emotion begets powerful emotion, multiplying on itself until the effect is dizzying, and Avi takes full advantage in this book. The pages continue to turn beneath one's fingers because the story's emotions are vivid and alive, even uncomfortably so. One can see oneself so easily in Andy's situation, fighting for what's right when no one else sees it the same way, bobbing to keep one's head above the ocean current steadily rising in the opposite direction. There's almost a physical need to see Andy proven right as the story progresses, to witness so many wrongs righted, so many unjust statements, insinuations and outright accusations finally retracted by those chastened with the unyielding truth, forced to acknowledge Andy was right all along and he had every reason to worry for Nina's safety and disregard the apathy of the police to make sure she would be safe. Only a superb storyteller at his best can conjure up such strong feelings in the reader, and Avi does that and more in Wolf Rider. It is a wonder of a novel.
1987 was an excellent year for Newbery. Eligible kids literature included Sid Fleischman's Medal-winning The Whipping Boy, Cynthia Voigt's Come a Stranger from her highly respected Tillerman Cycle, Cynthia Rylant's A Fine White Dust and Why Did She Have to Die? by Lurlene McDaniel. Personally, my 1987 Newbery Medal would have gone, without question, to On My Honor by Marion Dane Bauer, one of the greatest books of any kind I've ever read. Wolf Rider would have probably earned a Newbery Honor nod from me, though, as deserving of recognition with the citation as almost anything Avi has written. The True Confessions of Charlotte Doyle may be the author's magnum opus, but if there were such a position as "magnum opus 1-A", it would have to be reserved for Wolf Rider, in my opinion. As I said in the lead paragraph of this review, Wolf Rider may the closest I've seen to a Robert Cormier novel with another author's name on the cover, and that's as meaningful a compliment as I can think to give. I unequivocally recommend this book.