CAPE

A child grapples with loss.

A Black boy sits on his bedroom floor, holding his knees, looking bereft. Along with “a new haircut and suit for today,” he has a red cape hanging from his chest of drawers—an item of clothing also worn by the brown-skinned action figure next to him. As he walks downstairs, red cape billowing out behind him, he comments, “Got my cape…in case I remember.” After his auntie hugs him, a grayed-out parade of cars drives to the graveyard, where “We…place you by the stones.” During the funeral and the repast at the house, the mourners’ faces are indistinct or seen from behind, awash in grays or blues, representing the boy’s refusal to engage with them emotionally. Dynamic hues fill the pages as he imagines himself fighting off memories with his cape, soaring through space and diving deep under the water—before suddenly finding himself surrounded by joyful memories of a loving Black man, presumably his dad (an author’s note states that the story is rooted in Johnson’s childhood experience of losing his father). Thomas’ striking illustrations have a rounded softness, tempering the intensity though never sugarcoating it—this child’s rage, sadness, loneliness, and love are palpable. Johnson’s terse prose brims with emotion as the boy, amid his own mourning, covers his grieving auntie with the cape and promises, “I’ll never forget.” (This book was reviewed digitally.)

A resonant child’s-eye view of grief—and hope.