We first met Beverly Tapinski on page 5 of Kate DiCamillo's 2016 novel, "Raymie Nightingale":
She "stared straight ahead, not looking at anybody in particular, and said, 'My name is Beverly Tapinski and my father is a cop, so I don't think that you should mess with me. … When you're the daughter of a cop you see everything. You see it all.' "
Beverly Tapinski, tough as nails, cold as ice, 10 years old.
In that book, Beverly, Raymie and wispy little Louisiana Elefante become close friends, so close they call themselves the Three Rancheros. As in so many of DiCamillo's novels, all three girls had fractured home lives. Raymie's father ran off with a dental hygienist. Louisiana lived with her batty old grandmother. And Beverly — stoic Beverly showed up now and again with bruises on her face and no explanation.
The girls' stories continued last year in "Louisiana's Way Home," in which Louisiana lost her grandmother and gained a family. And this month comes a third book, this one devoted to Beverly, now 14 years old but pretending to be 16. And folks still probably shouldn't mess with her.
"Beverly, Right Here" opens grimly, with Beverly burying her dead dog, Buddy, and then leaving home. "My dog is dead," she thinks. "They can't make me stay. … No one can make me stay."
She hitches a ride to Tamaray Beach, Fla., with her cousin, Joe Travis, a roofer who drives a red Camaro and who is clearly no match for Beverly.
Beverly is supremely capable. She is never fazed. She can drive a car. She is afraid of no one. She may not know it, but her tough upbringing is her biggest strength.