I recently finished Lee Martin’s novel Break the Skin. Like his other books, this one is replete with characters who are grimly – even painfully — real.  In my next blog, I’ll review Break the Skin in detail, but for now, I want to focus on two characters from the story who found their way into my heart, in part because I have known such people in my own life.

Nineteen-year-old Elaine MaryKatherine Volk works a check-out line at Walmart in Mt. Gilead, Illinois, but she could be doing so much more. Laney has an incredible singing voice, one that her mother believes would cause angels to “fall from the sky, struck dumb with envy.”  That singing talent led to her playing the female lead in her high school’s production of The Music Man. That same amazing voice might have taken her places after high school — to college, maybe even Broadway. Unfortunately, Laney lacks the self-confidence to capitalize on her talent. By her own admission, “I was too shy, too afraid to leave New Hope (the small town where she lives with her mother), too worried that in a bigger place I’d find out I was what I’d suspected all along — no one, no one at all.” So Laney drops out of high school. After tension builds between her and her mother, she goes to live in a trailer park with a co-worker. Later in the story, Laney is given a second chance of sorts. She returns to her mother, who encourages her to pursue a GED at the nearby community college.  A call to the community college, where her mother works, shouldn’t have been that difficult for Laney — but it is. A combination of fatigue from working the night shift at Walmart and  the persistent fear of failure keep Laney from making that call for the longest time. And when she finally does muster the courage to enroll in the college’s GED program, she never attends the classes, being too upset over the sudden disappearance of her boyfriend Lester.

I had more than a few young women like  Laney Volk come into the basic English class I taught at Columbus State. They had usually been out of high school for awhile and were fearful they would not be able to pass my class. That fear often came out in the assigned essays they wrote and in post-class discussions I had with them.  I recall one young woman who burst into tears when telling me she just didn’t think she had the ability to get through the writing assignments I’d given her.

In high school, Laney had bad experiences that resulted in her heart being “stomped.” Many of the discouraged young women who came into my class also had bad experiences in high school that clouded their perception of what would happen to them at Columbus State. For her part, Laney, at least, had a supportive parent. Many of the young women in my class (and at least some of the men) did not have that. On the contrary, they often had a parent, friend, or co-worker telling them they didn’t have the “brains” to pass a college class and would fail if they tried. Yet, those who stayed in my class to the end nearly always passed and some — like the one who shed tears — earned A’s. While reading Break the Skin, I felt the same would be true of Laney. She could earn her GED and go on to better things if she only TRIED and DIDN’T QUIT!

Another Break the Skin character who seemed familiar to me is Gerald “Poke” Hambrick.  Poke lives with his grandfather in a house near Laney’s mother, and though he is only 15 years old, he knows everyone in the little town of New Hope and what they are up to. He knows about Rayanne Fines’ obsession with UFOs, Reverend Gibson’s Russian pen pal, and Jess and Libby Raymond’s troubled marriage as well as the daughter they lost in a drowning accident. Much of Poke’s knowledge comes from his habit of peeking into people’s windows. He also has a knack for turning up in unexpected places, such as the backseat of Laney’s car just as she’s about to leave for work.

Poke brought to mind a former member of the State Board of Education who represented several counties in southwest Ohio. I visited his Clermont County home shortly after he left office, and while I was there, Cy treated me to a road “tour” of the rural community where he lived. As we bounced along in his truck, Cy pointed to the different houses we passed and told me something about the people who lived there. Here, in this house, the family struggled with a mortgage they couldn’t pay. Next door, the family prepared for the wedding of their daughter, while across the way, the father of another family had recently been diagnosed with cancer. While I don’t suppose Cy peeked in windows like Poke, he undoubtedly had his own channels of information that kept him “in the know” about his neighbors’ lives. I suspect that lots of small rural communities have at least one Poke or Cy in their midst; someone who by hook or by crook knows what everybody else is doing.

One reason Lee Martin’s stories hit home so effectively is because his characters are so painfully, done-to-earth realistic. Even if I didn’t know people like Poke and Laney, I would find them quite believable. Like so many people, their past struggles and failures influence their behavior and ultimately play a key role in determining their respective fates.