Beverly, right here

Kate DiCamillo

Book - 2019

Beverly Tapinski has run away from home plenty of times, but that was when she was just a kid. By now, she figures, it's not running away. It's leaving. Determined to make it on her own, Beverly finds a job and a place to live and tries to forget about her dog, Buddy, now buried underneath the orange trees back home; her friend Raymie, whom she left without a word; and her mom, Rhonda, who has never cared about anyone but herself. Beverly doesn't want to depend on anyone, and she definitely doesn't want anyone to depend on her. But despite her best efforts, she can't help forming connections with the people around her, and gradually, she learns to see herself through their eyes.

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Subjects
Published
Somerville, Massachusetts : Candlewick Press 2019.
Language
English
Main Author
Kate DiCamillo (author)
Edition
First edition
Physical Description
241 pages ; 21 cm
ISBN
9780763694647
Contents unavailable.
Review by Booklist Review

DiCamillo's Raymie Nightingale (2016) and Louisiana's Way Home (2018) told the stories of two of three good friends. Now it's Beverly Tapinski's turn. Beverly, 14, runs away from home: her beloved dog is dead, and her mother doesn't mind much that she's gone. She hitches a ride that drops her at a seaside restaurant, where she gets a job busing tables and finds a home with an elderly woman who needs someone to drive her to bingo games.(DiCamillo has a penchant for heroines who can drive big cars at young ages.) When Beverly sees seemingly random words written on a telephone booth ""in a crooked little house by the crooked little sea"" this chance discovery comes to describe her new home. As she did in the previous books, DiCamillo writes in a spare style, describing small, seemingly disparate moments that gradually come together in a rich, dynamic picture. The other thing she does brilliantly is shape characters whose eccentricities make them heartbreakingly, vividly real, like Elmer, whose acne-covered face is a mask that hides his humanity; Freddie, the young waitress with great expectations that are colored by untruths; and owlish Iola Jenkins, whose willingness to take a chance on Beverly counts for everything. Thoughtful and hopeful in equal measure. HIGH-DEMAND BACKSTORY: DiCamillo is a household name by now, and this final volume in the trilogy of linked novels begun with Raymie Nightingale is sure to draw an adoring crowd.--Ilene Cooper Copyright 2019 Booklist

From Booklist, Copyright (c) American Library Association. Used with permission.
Review by Publisher's Weekly Review

This thoughtful companion to two-time Newbery Medal-winner DiCamillo's Raymie Nightingale and Louisiana's Way Home follows Beverly Tapinski, the third of the Three Rancheros, in August 1979-four years after the first book's events. Grieving the death of her beloved dog Buddy and tired of her mother's drinking, Beverly, 14, decides to skip town. After she hitches a ride to Tamaray Beach, a lie about her age garners her a job at Mr. C's restaurant and room with elderly Iola, who offers the girl shelter in exchange for her driving Iola around. Beverly can be deeply unforthcoming about her feelings, making her gradual transition away from a solitary being determined not to rely on others feel deeply meaningful. Secondary characters-sensitive teen store clerk Elmer, who's interested in art; bingo enthusiast Iola; and the staff of Mr. C's-are well defined through concise narrative and dialogue, and DiCamillo builds them into a new community that matters a great deal to Beverly. But it's Beverly's private moments-thoughts of the other Rancheros, a message revealed, a love for the term lapis lazuli-that move her from being a person in flight to a present, whole participant in her world. Ages 10-up. Agent: Holly McGhee, Pippin Properties. (Sept.) © Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved.

(c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved
Review by School Library Journal Review

Gr 5--7--Readers first met Beverly Tapinski when she entered the Little Miss Central Florida Tire competition with Raymie Nightingale and Louisiana Elefante. Beverly is now 14. Her dog Buddy has died, and Beverly feels like she has been left behind by everyone--her dad, Louisiana, and now Buddy. So she leaves, too, and goes to Tamaray Beach. She gets a job at a restaurant, is taken in by a kind old lady, and makes friends with the cashier of Zoom City. But eventually she realizes she left behind Raymie, and that hurts more than she can stand. In her signature style of short, accessible prose sprinkled with carefully chosen, meaningful words, DiCamillo once again tells extraordinary stories with ordinary characters. This is a multilayered story of hope, from Iola who wants to win a turkey from the VFW Christmas in July, to Freddie who has big dreams, to Elmer who loves art and poetry and wants to be an engineer, to Beverly herself, who just wants things to be different than they are. Beverly acts tough and uninterested, but underneath she is tender and vulnerable. VERDICT This is not a lighthearted book, but it is heartwarming and touching. Highly recommended.--Julie Overpeck, Holbrook Middle School, Lowell, NC

(c) Copyright Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
Review by Horn Book Review

In this companion volume to DiCamillos Raymie Nightingale (rev. 3/16) and Louisianas Way Home (rev. 9/18)together the books make up a trilogy in which DiCamillo introduces three girls, each meeting individual challenges in the process of growing upits Beverly Tapinskis turn. After Buddy, the dog of [her] heart, dies, fourteen-year-old Beverly leaves home, catching a ride with her loser cousin to Tamaray Beach, where she finds a job busing tables and a place to stay in return for driving (yes, driving) elderly Iola Jenkins to bingo. Others enter her life; in the same manner as she shops at the local convenience store, Beverly chooses some (Elmer, the store clerk with a full scholarship to Dartmouth; the cook at the restaurant) for friends and rejects others (the self-absorbed waitress and her bully boyfriend). Unlike the often-drunk mother back home who never notices her, or the father who simply left one day, Beverly discovers that showing upwhether to help Iola win the worlds largest turkey at the local VFWs Christmas-in-July party, or build a sandcastle with a child, or support a workers strike at the restaurantcan make a difference in peoples lives. The story moves languidly at first, as Beverly absorbs her surroundings, and then more quickly, as she realizes that if she wants things to change, she must meet those things head on. Drawn with unusual depth, the members of Beverlys small community emerge as complex individuals but also, collectively, as a force for change and goodwilljust like the three friends who began this journey together. betty carter September/October 2019 p.85(c) Copyright 2019. The Horn Book, Inc., a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

(c) Copyright The Horn Book, Inc., a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
Review by Kirkus Book Review

The friendship of strangers helps a 14-year-old runaway realize that there are important connections to be found at home as well. It is 1979, four years after the events that bound together the Three Rancheros, Raymie, Louisiana, and Beverly, in Raymie Nightingale (2016). Buddy, the dog they rescued, has died, and Beverly Tapinski can think of no reason to stay home, so she hitches a ride to Tamaray Beach, Florida. Lying about her age, she finds a job in Mr. C's restaurant and a place to stay in elderly Iola Jenkins' trailer. In this third book about the girls, DiCamillo mixes familiar ingredients: absent parents, disparate friends, the ability to drive a car, the power of generosity, and the satisfaction of a big celebratory meal. Beverly is the focus here; her old friends appear only as memories or a voice on the telephone. At 14, she's on the verge of finding herself, and she's newly seeing herself through others' eyes. As always, secondary characters (likely white, like Beverly) are interestingly drawn: the lonely older woman; acne-faced and college-bound Elmer, who draws her picture and teaches her to dance; ambitious Freddie the waitress and her unsuitable boyfriend. But in this immediate narrative, simply told and progressing in real time, readers encounter this world through Beverly's eyes and mind, finding pleasure in small things, appreciating friends of all sorts, coming to terms with losses, and moving on.A satisfying read that stands alone but is richer for its company. (Fiction. 10-14) Copyright Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.

Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.

One Buddy died, and Beverly buried him, and then she set off toward Lake Clara. She went the back way, through the orange groves. When she cut out onto Palmetto Lane, she saw her cousin Joe Travis Joy standing out in front of his mother's house. Joe Travis was nineteen years old. He had red hair and a tiny little red beard and a red Camaro, and a job roofing houses in Tamaray Beach. Beverly didn't like him all that much. "Hey," said Joe Travis when he saw Beverly. "I thought you moved to Tamaray," said Beverly. "I did. I'm visiting is all." "When are you going back?" she said. "Now," said Joe Travis. Beverly thought, Buddy is dead -- my dog is dead. They can't make me stay. I'm not staying. No one can make me stay. And so she left.   "What are you going to Tamaray for?" said Joe Travis. "You got friends there or something?" They were in the red Camaro. They were on the highway. Beverly didn't answer Joe Travis. Instead, she stared at the green-haired troll hanging from the rearview mirror. She thought how the troll looked almost exactly like Joe Travis except that its hair was the wrong color and it didn't have a beard. Also, it seemed friendlier. Joe Travis said, "Do you like ZZ Top?" Beverly shrugged. "You want a cigarette?" said Joe Travis. "No," said Beverly. "Suit yourself." Joe Travis lit a cigarette, and Beverly rolled down the window. "Hey," said Joe Travis. "I got the AC on." Beverly leaned her face into the hot air coming through the open window. She said nothing. They went the whole way to Tamaray Beach with one window down and the air-conditioning on full blast. Joe Travis smoked six cigarettes and ate one strip of beef jerky. In between the cigarettes and the beef jerky, he tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. The little troll rocked back and forth -- blown about by gusts of air-conditioning and wind, smiling an idiotic smile. Why were trolls always smiling, anyway? Every troll Beverly had ever seen had a gigantic smile plastered on its face for absolutely no good reason. When they got to the city limits, Beverly said, "You can let me out anywhere." "Well, where are you headed?" said Joe Travis. "I'll take you there." "I'm not going anywhere," said Beverly. "Let me out." "You don't got to be so secretive. Just tell me where you're going and I'll drop you off." "No," said Beverly. "Dang it!" said Joe Travis. He slapped his hand on the steering wheel. "You always did think that you was better than everybody else on God's green earth." "No, I didn't," said Beverly. "Same as your mother," said Joe Travis. "Ha," said Beverly. "You ain't," said Joe Travis. "Neither one of you is any better. You ain't better at all. I don't care how many beauty contests your mama won back in the day." He stomped on the brakes. He pulled over to the side of the road. "Get out," said Joe Travis. "Thanks for the ride," said Beverly. "Don't you thank me," said Joe Travis. "Okay," said Beverly. "Well, anyway -- thanks." She got out of the Camaro and slammed the door and started walking down A1A in the opposite direction of Joe Travis Joy. It was hot. It was August. It was 1979. Beverly Tapinski was fourteen years old. Two    She had run away from home plenty of times, but that was when she was just a kid. It wasn't running away this time, she figured. It was leaving. She had left. Beverly walked down the side of A1A. She had on an old pair of flip-flops, and it didn't take long for her feet to start hurting. Cars went zooming past her, leaving behind hot gusts of metallic air. She saw a sign with a pink seahorse painted on it. She stopped. She stared at the seahorse. He was smiling and chubby-cheeked. There were a lot of little bubbles coming out of his mouth, and then one big bubble that had the words seahorse court, an rv community written inside of it. Past the sign, there was a ground-up seashell drive that led to a bunch of trailers. A woman was standing in front of a pink trailer holding a hose, spraying a sad bunch of flowers. The woman raised her hand and waved. "Howdy, howdy!" she shouted. "Right," said Beverly. "Howdy." She started walking again. She looked down at her feet. "Howdy," she said to them. "Howdy." She would get a job. That's what she would do. How hard could it be to get a job? Joe Travis had done it. After the Seahorse Court, there was a motel called the Seaside End and then there was a restaurant called Mr. C's. mr. c's is your lunch spot! said the sign. we cook you all the fish in the c! Beverly hated fish. She walked across the blacktop parking lot. It was almost entirely empty. She went up to the 
restaurant and opened the door. It was cool and dark inside. It smelled like grease. And also fish. "Party of one?" said a girl with a lot of blond hair. She was wearing a name tag that said Welcome to Mr. C's! I'm Freddie. From somewhere in the darkness, off to the left, there came the ping and hum of a video game. "I'm looking for a job," said Beverly. "Here?" said Freddie. "Is there a job here?" "Mr. Denby!" shouted Freddie. "Hey, someone out here wants a job. Who knows why." Beverly looked to the right, past Freddie. She could see a dining room with blue chairs and blue tablecloths, and a big window that looked out on the ocean. The brightness of the room, the blueness of it, hurt her eyes. She remembered, suddenly, that Buddy was dead. And then she wished she hadn't remembered. Excerpted from Beverly, Right Here by Kate DiCamillo All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.