In 1963, Danny Prescott is an ordinary 16-year-old boy in Banning, Iowa, who is unaccustomed to being noticed by the likes of Brent Arrington, a star high school football player and the “closest thing Banning had to a celebrity.” So Danny, who is also on the football team, is surprised when Brent asks him for a ride to the home of Loretta Tinsley, a 13-year-old girl in junior high. While there, Brent and Loretta disappear into a hay loft, where Brent rapes her and casually emerges unperturbed by her anguished cries, grotesquely satisfied by his conquest. Danny does nothing to help her and even gives Brent a ride back to town. Danny quickly becomes emotionally overwhelmed by his cowardly inaction, which finally leaves him “shimmering with shame and humiliation,” an ignominy sensitively depicted by Whipple. Loretta presses charges, and Brent is arrested for rape while Danny is considered an accessory to the assault. Danny desperately wants to atone for his part in Loretta’s agony, especially after she attempts suicide, and tells the truth about what he saw. He even pines to testify against Brent. But Danny becomes the town pariah—some hate him because he won’t defend Brent, who makes a state football championship possible, and others because they see him as the star athlete’s accomplice. The school’s principal, Mr. Larson, tries to expel Danny, and local mothers take up a petition to remove him from school. Coach Esker discourages Danny from continuing to play football, and many of his teammates, Brent’s “loyalists,” shun him. Even worse, Brent assaults him brutally and threatens to kill him if he doesn’t keep his mouth shut.
Whipple’s moral drama is layered with complexity—the Prescotts have a long and fraught relationship with the Arringtons. This is especially impressive given the ordinariness of this town—Danny calls it a “grease spot on an Iowa map”—which serves as a perfect stage for the story, a small place that gives birth to big sins. At the heart of the novel is a delicately portrayed maturation of Danny—this unassuming virgin who longs to escape the aching provinciality of his life is compelled to grow up fast and ask himself hard questions about what it means to be a man. Whipple’s writing is generally poetically unembellished, but its plainness is the source of its gathering power, and it brings into sharp relief the averageness of those who participate in this moral contest. Here, Loretta’s father, Evert, confronts Danny regarding his responsibility for her rape: “Why didn’t you help my little girl? They say you’re a good kid. Why didn’t you help her when she cried out?…Why would someone she considered a friend…bring a monster to our farm?” This is an absorbing look into the ways even the most ordinary human beings can suddenly become key players in a terrible drama.
