THE LAST LAST

Leaving behind a beloved Caribbean island home, a child confronts fears of change and the unknown.

With plaited ponytails hanging playfully from pink hair ties, the brown-skinned protagonist looks on unhappily as Mum and Grannie pack up, surrounded by smiling friends and family. “But I don’t know what to take!” says the young narrator. The child decides to go for one final walk, meandering barefoot with a heavy heart past chickens and loose dogs, beneath birds, and toward the beach to enjoy a few final “lasts”—the “last chew of sugarcane, last smell of sweet roast corn.” By the sea, the youngster is enchanted by a “swirly shell”: “Now I know what to pack.” McCarthy’s richly hued gouache and acrylic illustrations exude warmth: The inviting blue of the water nearly matches that of the vast sky, while fuchsia, green, and orange florals pop off the page. She continues to employ bright, dynamic colors as the family travels by plane to an unnamed city, a yellow taxi contrasting with the rest of the traffic. The family’s new home is “enormous,” but the protagonist, hair now in loose coils and tied up in a blue bow, maintains a connection to natural spaces, even befriending a blue jay. Whittingham’s delicately charming tale comes to a gently hopeful conclusion; the depiction of a youngster independently making sense of the turmoil of relocating will speak to children confronting similar changes, big and small.

Affecting and optimistic.