Ellen Birkett Morris’s novel Beware the Tall Grass (Columbus State University Press, March 2024) weaves what appear at first blush to be two disconnected stories together in ways that are alternatingly troubling, thought-provoking, and, ultimately, deeply sad and resonant as the novel reaches its conclusions.
The worlds of the two stories are seemingly far apart—in terms of time, distance and most other measures. In one we have a contemporary couple and their young son. In the other, a young man in 1960s rural Montana experiences the loss of his beloved horse and best friend, first love, graduating high school, and shipping off to Vietnam. When the couple’s child begins to suffer traumatizing nightmares and to manifest knowledge of that distant war—down to the names of places, battles, weaponry and more—his parents are deeply divided over how to help the boy. His mother, Eve, seeks professional help and guidance, while the father basically says it’s just a boy “playing war” and that she’ll only encourage more of such behavior by making a big deal out of it.
Throughout the novel, chapters rotate between Eve’s point of view and that of Thomas, the young man in Montana. In the opening pages, Eve has just become a mother to Charlie. At eight, Thomas, a loner and only child, acquires his beloved horse Beau, who becomes his best friend and confidante. Years later, on an afternoon ride, Beau is startled by a snake, rears, and comes down too hard, snapping a bone in his foreleg:
“I thought about getting Dad, but I couldn’t leave Beau like that. He knew and trusted me.
Beau lay on his side, sweaty and restless, his eyes wild with fear. I leaned close rubbing his head. I fed him a sugar cube. I whispered to him.
“I’m here buddy, I won’t leave you. I’m here.”
I stared deep into his eyes until all I could see was the black of his irises.
We kept a gun in the pack for rattlesnakes. I was a good shot when it came to aiming for soda cans and clay pigeons. I never wanted to hurt anything.”
This one act of necessary violence foreshadows the senseless violence of war.
After Thomas loses Beau, a recruiter shows up at the high school. Thinking there’s nothing for him in Montana anymore, Thomas enlists, a decision he regrets when he falls in love and suddenly has everything to live for.
At five, Charlie, the couple’s little boy, is having increasingly vivid dreams and waking recollections of horrific events in Vietnam, events he should logically have no knowledge of. Eve takes him to psychiatrists and past-life specialists, while coping with suspicious friends and an angry husband who continues to maintain she’s only making matters worse.
In the final scenes, Thomas’s reality on the war front and Charlie’s awareness of the horrors Thomas faces come to their awful resolution. Fortunately, Charlie finds some satisfaction.
Having been a teenager and young adult during the Vietnam War years, Beware the Tall Grass resonated with me, particularly the aspect of this young man, barely out of high school, fighting for his life in a war he didn’t understand or believe in, leaving life and love behind. While some readers may find the premise implausible, the material is presented in a straight-forward manner that allows for that perspective.
The craft is strong, both points of view are well executed as are the varied descriptive passages. It’s no surprise that this debut novel was a prize winner.