It's easy for a plot-driven book to beguile its readers, but a character-driven book? That's much more of a rarity, not to mention a blessing. Francisco X. Stork's THE LAST SUMMER OF THE DEATH WARRIORS is just such a book -- you reach the last page despite yourself because, truth be told, you hate to bid farewell to the characters he has created.
Pancho is an angry young man whose fury with life becomes confused by circumstances. He's a tough 17-year-old kid who knows how to fight and even loves the release of hitting and being hit. Worse still, in the course of the last year he's lost his father to natural causes, his mentally-handicapped sister to murder, and life as he knew it to an orphanage that he longs to escape.
Enter the "Death Warrior": Daniel Quentin (D.Q.), a precocious 17-year-old with one year to die (because we're all dying, he insists) due to brain cancer. D.Q. meets Pancho's anger and cynicism with unrelenting optimism and hope to the point where Pancho becomes confused and, yes, even more angry at times. It's no small task, but Stork creates D.Q.'s character with deft strokes which dodge sentimentality and embrace gritty, realistic humor. The exchanges between these boys are typical of teenagers with insults, brutal honesty, and grudging respect.
In a reverse of expectations (something this book offers in spades), it is D.Q. telling Pancho to stop his whining. Writing a manifesto about "Death Warriors," D.Q. creates a fantasy world of ninja-like goals where death must be accepted, invincibility must be dismissed, and love must be used as a weapon until the Grim Reaper's embrace can no longer be dodged. Pancho has to listen to this nonsense because he is paid to serve as D.Q.'s assistant. This job is one major headache for Pancho, whose less-ideal goals include hunting down his sister's killer, vigilante-style, and murdering him in cold blood.
Stork weaves in compelling complications. There's the beautiful Marisol, whom D.Q. idealizes as a romantic lover who might accept him despite the cancer. When Pancho starts to fall under her allure as well, he meets an opponent he has more difficulty in knocking out -- a love which can only make him "soft" and distract him from his murderous mission. And, at the children's hospital in Albuquerque where Pancho has traced his sister's murderer, we meet Josie, an irrepressible girl with leukemia who says unfiltered whatever she thinks and figures out, and she thinks and figures out a lot -- most of it embarrassing. Meanwhile, there are tense episodes of violence as Pancho cannot seem to quench his thirst for fighting. At times you wonder if HIS days will be shorter than D.Q.'s, whether from mixing it up with lowlifes on the city streets or from his doomed mission to murder a murderer.
This is a rare treat in the YA genre: a novel that blends philosophy with pugilism, cancer with candor, and anger with attraction. The ending is unflinchingly realistic and the book destined to become a classic character study in its field. Highly recommended for mature middle school, high school, and, yes, adult readers.
