My Abandonment: A Novel

By Peter Rock

NOW A MAJOR FILM, LEAVE NO TRACE. Inspired by a true story, a riveting and unsettling novel about a girl and her father who live off the grid, in the shadows at the edge of civilization.

Thirteen-year-old Caroline and her father live in Forest Park, an enormous nature preserve in Portland, Oregon. They inhabit an elaborate cave shelter, wash in a nearby creek, store perishables at the water’s edge, use a makeshift septic system, tend a garden, even keep a library of sorts.

Once a week they go to the city to buy groceries and otherwise merge with the civilized world. But one small mistake allows a backcountry jogger to discover them, which derails their entire existence, ultimately provoking a deeper flight.

Told through the startlingly sincere voice of its young narrator, My Abandonment is a riveting journey into life at the margins and a mesmerizing tale of survival and hope.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Open Road Integrated Media
• Release date: Apr 2, 2010
• ISBN: 9780547488646

Peter Rock

PETER ROCK is the author of several novels, including My Abandonment, and a collection of stories, The Unsettling. He teaches writing at Reed College. 

Book preview

First Movie Tie-In edition 2018

First Mariner Books edition 2010

Copyright © 2009, 2008 by Peter Rock

Discussion Guide Copyright © 2010 Houghton Mifflin Harcourt

Copyright © 2009, 2008 by Peter Rock

Discussion questions written by Erin Edmison

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

For information about permission to reproduce selections from this book, write to [e-mail] or to Permissions, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt Publishing Company, 3 Park Avenue, 19th Floor, New York, New York 10016.

hmhbooks.com

Portions of this work were previously published in Tin House, volume 9, number 3, 2008.

Photograph on title page courtesy of Stephanie Margaret Hinshaw.

The Library of Congress has cataloged the print edition as follows:

Rock, Peter, date.

My abandonment / Peter Rock.

p. cm.

1. Teenage girls—Fiction. 2. Fathers and daughters—Fiction. 3. Homeless families—Fiction. 4. Survival skills—Fiction. 5. Forest Park (Portland, Or.)—Fiction. 6. Wilderness areas—Northwest, Pacific—Fiction. 7. Psychological fiction. I. Title.

PS3568.0327M9 2008

813'.54—dc22 2007044412

ISBN 978-0-15-101414-9 (hardcover)

ISBN 978-0-15-603552-1 (pbk)

ISBN 978-1-328-58871-5 (Movie Tie-In)

Cover design by Mark R. Robinson

Cover photograph © Bleecker Street Media LLC

eISBN 978-0-547-48864-6

v4.0320

While the author was inspired by real events as the starting place for his story, this is a work of fiction. Caroline and her father, and all other characters, places, organizations, and events are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously for verisimilitude, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

For Ida Akiko Rock

It is remarkable how many creatures live wild and free though secret in the woods, and still sustain themselves in the neighborhood of towns, suspected by hunters only.

—Henry David Thoreau, Walden

Very soon after, I saw a little snake, He was crawling along. When I see snakes, I like to stop and watch. The dresses they wear fit them tight—they can’t fluff out their clothes like birds can. But snakes are quick people. They move in such a pretty way. Their eyes are bright, and their tongues are slim.

—Opan Whiteley, The Singing Creek Where the Willows Grow

One

Sometimes you’re walking through the woods when a stick leaps into the air and strikes you across the back and shoulders several times, then flies away lost in the underbrush. There’s nothing to do but keep walking, you have to be ready for everything and I am as I follow behind Father down out of the trees, around a puddle, to the fence of the salvage yard. It’s night.

Caroline, Father says, holding open a tear in the fence. You come through here.

He begins to sort and scavenge. He wants rebar, metal to support our roof. I watch the road, the gate and also behind us where we came through. Cars and big trucks rush and rattle past on the highway, the people inside staring straight ahead and thinking about where they are going and what will happen next and probably things they’ve done before but they’re not thinking of or looking at us. There are no houses near the salvage yard. An electrical station humming inside its own fences and then on the other side Fat Cobra Video, which Father says is a snake store but I don’t think it is. In the window are pictures of ladies with their shirts off, holding their breasts in their hands.

Now he is pulling out the long thin metal bars, setting the scraps of sheet metal aside. I hold Randy, my toy horse, in one hand. If I set him down it’s never for long. Randy and my blue piece of ribbon are always with me.

You see, Caroline, Father says, all the work I’m doing here for these people, organizing all these different things. This is how we are paying them back for what we’re taking.

Yes, I say, squinting across the highway to the dark trains in the railyard, the tiny lights of the cars on the bridge over the river.

The rebar and wire are happy to be with us since we will put them to better use and not forget them to rust in a pile. Father bends back the fence so you’d never know we were here. In one hand I carry a roll of wire that will help hold up the roof or which we can bend to a hanging shelf or another secret thing he might make and in my other hand is Randy softly rattling with the things I put inside his hollow body. My finger is over the round hole in his stomach.

Caroline, don’t lag.

I’m right here, I say.

Father keeps backtracking since it’s hard to carry the long pieces of rebar through the trees in the dark. They keep snagging on things, turning him sideways.

If you look up at the sky, I say, you can see the spaces between the trees that way and see where to walk.

Thanks, he says. Who do you think taught you that?

At night the air smells less dry, the coolness in the trees. A branch clatters down, becoming a stick. Squirrels up there? An owl? Everything in the darkness reaches out, in its way and at night we wear shoes so it’s harder to feel how things are. We go deeper into the forest park, further from the edge where the city leans in. I know where we are. I know the way home and where I would end up if I walked thirty minutes in any direction through the forest. If I hold my breath and let Father walk away I can’t even hear his footsteps, even in his shoes. That’s how good he is.

Then the air is thick and rotten. Father’s hand is on my arm. I hear the click and then his headlamp is bright and round on his forehead. He holds back a tangle of blackberry and I step through and on the ground is a deer with its neck bent back and its eyes missing and blood on its black nose. The light is a five inch white circle sliding across the deer. Its head, its hooves, its tail. The deer is about the size of me, its tan fur smooth, flies bouncing and buzzing. Its stomach is open and some parts are missing.

That’s her liver, Father says, pointing with a stick, sharp black against the light. Lungs. Heart.

The dogs did this? I say. The smell.

Hold your breath, Father says. I doubt it was dogs, or coyotes. Someone might have shot her, or disease, or she could have even fallen down here and broken her neck. Even animals can fall down sometimes.

I know that, I say.

Look carefully, Caroline. There’s a lesson here. It’s better homework than being in school, that’s for certain.

Father turns his neck to look at me before I can shut my eyes against the brightness and it blinds me. I hear the switch so I know it’s off but still the light is in my eyes and they take a moment to clear and we can walk again.

A little further on Father stops at a good place where it is finally not so steep and sets everything down. He pulls up the ivy around and over it even though almost no one would come here or find or want or be able to carry it.

There, he says. We’ve done it again, Caroline.

We step only on the stones, closer to home. I on every one, Father on every second one. To not beat down the grass. We come around the side and carefully he takes away the branch across the front door and then we sit on the edge of the mattress for a moment before he strikes a match and lights the lamp. The lamp is made out of a glass bottle with fuel in it and a string stuck through into it. Its light shines and deeper back in the cave the gold letters on my encyclopedias shine back. I only have up to L but I haven’t read past E. I go into F or G or the future ones when something’s mentioned that starts with that letter. My dictionary is there, too. It is a paperback book and smaller.

Inside the ceiling is tall enough that I can stand on my knees but Father has to sit down or crawl. He pulls the branch back across the door and looks at me.

We’re lucky, he says. We’re the lucky ones.

We are, I say.

We have to be so careful these days, he says.

Why?

People.

No one knows where we are, I say.

If you think that way, Father says, that’s when you get caught. Overconfident.

No one’s ever caught us, I say. No one could.

That doesn’t mean anything, he says. You know better than to look to the past, Caroline.

I set Randy on his wooden base with the one metal post the size of a pencil that fits in the hole in his stomach. I turn his white side out so I can look up and check on him in the darkness and he’ll be easy to see from the mattress.

The dinner dishes are all dry now and I stack them on their shelves. Father takes off his dark forest pants and mends a rip with a piece of dental floss and a needle. Then he writes down things from the books he’s reading in his tiny handwriting in his little book and I do some homework he’s given me and I also write on the scrap paper some of this journal and things I’ve seen and thought. Father, his hand spread out is wider than this sheet of paper, wider than the plates we eat off, his fingertips hanging over. It makes a book look tiny when he holds it.

We brush our teeth and spit in the chamber pot and change out of our clothes and lie down on the mattress. Father stretches his hands over his head so they almost reach the flat stone and the green Coleman stove. Sometimes in his sleep his hands cross and his wrists come together and his bracelets ring softly. They’re supposed to help him be stronger. When I tell him I need help to be stronger, he says that I haven’t seen all the things or had the problems he’s had. He says I’m too young to wear jewelry. He turns over to kiss me, his scratchy cheek.

If a paragraph is a thought, a complete thought, then a sentence is one piece of a thought. Like in addition where one number plus another number equals a bigger number. If you wrote down subtraction you would start with a thought and take enough away that it was no longer complete. You might write backward, or nothing at all, or less than nothing. You wouldn’t even think or breathe. A comma, that is a place you breathe, or think, which is how breathing and thinking are the same. They collect, or are places to collect. A semicolon is a strange kind of thinking that I don’t understand. It is more than one sentence inside one sentence. It makes more sense to me just to let each sentence be a sentence. Father says both the pieces on either side of a colon should add up to the same thing, even if one side is just a list. Some of the things I need to write about: Randy, the lookouts, bodies, names, Nameless, people when they think they’re alone, snow, trampolines, helicopters.

Wake up, I say. You were having a dream. Was it the helicopters?

Whoa, Father says. I guess it was a dream.

I can’t see the moon, I say. It’s dark outside tonight.

Clouds, he says. Maybe it’ll rain tomorrow.

Was it the helicopters?

Oh Caroline, he says. They swarmed all down over the trees, rattling and tearing at everything. They had loudspeakers and from above they cast the sound of a baby crying, so loud, crying, the edges breaking up.

Why? This was in your dream?

No, this was before. I don’t know.

Why would they do that? I say.

Exactly. I don’t know. Sleep, Caroline.

In the summer like now we sleep on top of the sleeping bags with only a sheet over us and in the winter we zip the bags together since it’s warmer that way. When my body was smaller there was lots of room but now even when it’s too warm I cannot get away, our legs touch, our arms. I can’t fall asleep and I can’t tell if Father is asleep or not. I keep thinking of the deer, dead, lying half a mile away, listening while different animals drag parts of her away. Father does not grow but he is the largest man in the forest park that I have seen, bigger than anyone in the city except very fat men who cannot move like he moves. I am also quick but much more slender and five feet tall, my dark hair long and snarled and my skin white so it can flash in a darkness if I’m not careful.

All at once there’s a whining, a snarling and then a snuffling as a snout pushes through the branch across our door. It’s the dogs, some of them, racing through our camp, and Father shouts once and bangs a pan with a spoon and they’re gone that fast but I know that he’s awake.

I named the head dog Lala, I say.

If she’s such a good friend of yours, he says, you could tell her that we try to sleep around here at night.

I was thinking about the deer, I say. The dead one.

What about her?

Nothing, I say, the bottoms of my feet on his leg. What is your favorite color?

What’s yours?

Yellow, I say.

Why?

The way it makes me feel. It’s bright and not still.

Exactly. It draws attention. I like green.

You would, I say, and he laughs and holds me close.

And what was my mother’s favorite color?

Yellow. Just like yours.

So she taught me that, for it to be my favorite.

Probably, he says. Kind of, some way. You’re very much like her.

And we have the same name.

Had, he says. Yes. Caroline.

Why did you give me the same name?

Because I loved her so much. Now go to sleep; it’s the middle of the night, Caroline. I always tell you that.

I wish I could have met her.

She wishes that, too, he says. Good night, yellow.

Good night, green.

Since I am thirteen I am allowed to get out of bed whenever I wake up. Even before the sun, like now. Father sleeps on his stomach with his face in the pillow and his arms stretched out underneath it, his big hands on the ground. If he sleeps on his back he snores and I have to wake and tell him so he’ll turn over in the night since snoring is a sound.

The zipper is cold but the morning is not too cold. I pull on my black jeans and my dark green sweatshirt over my nightshirt and I get Randy off his stand and leave him with his horse’s head on my pillow, safe in the bed with Father. I take the chamber pot I used once last night and the water bucket and I slip out not knocking the branch over, the branch that goes across the door when we’re not here and sometimes when we’re sleeping. In the winter we hang a wool blanket across, inside, to hold in the heat of our bodies.

The bugs are already up in the warm air and I only need my two shirts. Father says now I have to wear an undershirt under my other shirt even if my breasts are almost flat. In the winter I wear sweaters and a dark raincoat. At the men’s camp people wear garbage bags with arm and head holes torn out but Father says that is not right. I also in the winter wear tights beneath my jeans. Father wears waffled long underwear all year around. The legs are gray and the top is red. He wears a dark plaid shirt that smells like wool and him, his hair and everything.

I hop across the stones and walk out under the trees, past my hidden garden. The lettuce is easy, even if it’s hard to clean. The beans want more sun than they get and I am impatient and dig up the radishes before they’re ready.

A chipmunk darts quicker than a squirrel but a squirrel’s more aware, his head jerking around from side to side, perched on a branch. Squirrels fall sometimes even if watching them it seems impossible.

Little maples try to grow up through the ivy that Father hates. The ground is all steep and rough and sometimes I’m hardly thinking as I go and then sometimes inside I’m saying Quiet, Caroline. Look at this. Caroline, careful, you lucky girl.

Our stream is narrow, especially in the summer. Here is the pool we dug to get drinking water and down below there’s another for washing on hot days. We have tubs and barrels that collect rainwater in other places. The latrine, a trench with a bag of lime hidden in the bushes, is further away and we dig a new one every two weeks. There are right ways to do everything in the forest park so you won’t draw attention. If you sharpen a pencil you pick up the shavings. If you burn paper there’s still ashes.

Back toward home I switch the full water bucket from one hand to the other, the empty chamber pot in the tired hand. I look all around as I get close. We have moved three times since we came to live in the forest park and I don’t want to move again. There’s not even anyone in the trees except the birds and they’re singing now that the sky is getting brighter.

Father is sleeping, exactly the same. He twitches all of a sudden like maybe the start of a helicopter dream and then he settles. Sometimes right when he’s falling asleep he’ll jerk his arms and legs too and he might wake himself up or kick me a little.

Silent I set down the pot and bucket. The flat stones are still cold so I stand

Reviews for My Abandonment

[jasonchambers · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Caroline and her father live a simple, meager existence, shrouded in Forest Park, a nature preserve in Portland, Oregon. Ostensibly homeless, they have built a secluded home in the woods, complete with garden, library, and shower. Caroline reads the encyclopedia and runs barefoot in the forest, exploring the boundaries of her domain. Occasionally, she and her father visit the nearby town for food, the library, his SS check, but mostly stay out of the reach of other people.


Peter Rock's My Abandonment is really a huge surprise. This slim novel examines their lives with dazzling, electric prose, starting with the childish naivete of the opening pages, to the shock of her father's subsequent unraveling, to the quiet mournful remembrance at the end. As each chapter unfolds, a stranger, more twisted history evolves, yet Rock writes with a tenderness that belies the darker truths.

Read this. Jeez, it will only take an hour. Okay, maybe two, but it's worth it.

jc

[addunn3 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

A young girl tells of her life in Forest Park in Portland, OR living with her dad.

[gaillamontagne · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I was drawn to this book because it is based on a true story from my hometown, Portland, OR. It is the dramatization of the sensational story about a hiker who discovered a 10 year old girl, Caroline, living/hiding in Forest Park, a large natural wooded area within the Portland city limits.Their support came from monthly disability checks and hidden gardening done in the park. Helping them survive, every month they made their "trips into town" which meant walking over the St. Johns bridge to the PO box, the bank and Safeway. The hiker who accidentally found Caroline, brought back police who arrested her father, a Vietnam vet with PDST. With questioning, the police were able to find out that the father and daughter lived together in the cave for 4 years but it was determined by authorities that the two should be placed on a horse ranch where her father could work and Caroline could attend school . Caroline had not been abused in any way as shown by a thorough medical exam and oddly, when tested, Caroline scored above grade level although very naive about life.

[adrianburke_1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

The ending doesn’t quite hold up and goes off half cocked.

[charlie68_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

A unique story from a unique perspective, that of thirteen year old girl living the life of the homeless with her father. My emotions ebbed and swayed throughout the narrative, which veered into places unexpected, a lot of questions remain unanswered, but still a good read.

[lynnb_64 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This is a story about survival.Thirteen-year-old Caroline and her father live in the forest. For Father, this is a question of survival -- he must escape the system; the "followers" who are watching him. Caroline loves her father, who teaches her to survive in the wilderness; to become invisible.Throughout the book, Caroline must learn to survive different situations. The plot is excellent, with deeper layers of the relationship between Caroline and her father being revealed in unexpected ways. Great writing, wonderful characters. I really liked it!

[debs4jc · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This book is enthralling in the way that you can't look away when you witness a horrible accident. From the beginning you wonder just what is going on, as you follow the exploits of Caroline, a 13 year old girl who lives with "Father" in Forest Park, a huge nature preserve in Oregon. They live "off the grid"--they have a hidden camp and spend their days making sure very few people notice them. So while Caroline excels in wilderness survival skills her knowledge of certain things is limited to what she has learned from her encyclopedias and her lack of human relationships beyond her bond with her Father made me ache for her. One day a runner accidentally discovers their camp and Caroline and her Father are taken in by the authorities. What happens next is a story full of ups and downs where the reader is rooting for Caroline to survive and find a place where she can be herself yet feel at home with other people. This book sparked quite a lively debate at our discussion group as the readers had strong emotional reactions to the events of Caroline's life. It's also intriguing that this novel was inspired by a true story of an actual father/daughter pair that were discovered living in Forest Park. They disappeared after shortly after they were resettled, leaving behind a real life mystery. The ending of this book also leaves some unanswered questions, which also makes it a great book for discussion since the readers can all share their opinions on what they think "really" happened. Peter Rock definitely has a wonderful imagination and I'd recommend this to anyone looking for something just a little different and thought provoking.

[eliz12_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I absolutely fell in love with this book - I checked it out from the library but was ready to go buy my own copy - until about 3/4 of the way through when, like another reviewer below, I became disenchanted with the incident at the yurt, and everything after that.I loved the characters, who seemed odd but still quite believable. I especially loved Caroline. At times I found her conversation a bit unrealistic (my daughter is 12 and speaks nothing like this 13-year-old), but I was willing to let it go, considering the girl's curious upbringing.My frustration was chiefly the near-ending and ending, which seem to wrap things up a bit too tidily - but not concretely. The language here is beautiful, and I understand the basics, but I was left with so many questions I felt unsatisfied.

[pidgeon92_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

What an odd - but ultimately interesting - story.

[coolmama_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Caroline is 15 years old and lives in an underground cave/hut covered with leaves, inside a public park in Portland Oregon with Father, who suffers nightmares of helicopters from some unnamed War. They live in the wild, forage, keep to themselves away from any part of society. Caroline is homeschooled by Father - with a set of encyclopedias (up to the letter L) and a dictionary. She is very bright, aware of both herself and keenly aware of her surroundings, and has a deep attachment to Father.Told from a 15 year olds perspective who remembers very little before life in the woods four years prior, this beautifully told and somewhat creepy (based on a true) story was a really good read!

[weeziesbooks · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

My Abandonment by Peter Rock tells the story of Caroline, a 13 year old girl and her father, living in self made camps in Forest Park, a large nature preserve near Portland, Oregon. There was a true case, documented in the newspapers in Portland of a father and his young daughter in very similar circumstance. This story was part of the key idea this for Rock’s book and has many key ideas that are similar to the true event that took place in Oregon. Caroline was the narrator of the book and the story is told from her perspective. Rock does a very good job of keeping the tone of the book true to the thoughts and actions of what a young girl might be experiencing and feeling. This is no easy task. I was privileged to hear Mr Rock read from his book for ‘Woodland Reads, a local citywide read in Woodland California. I believe the book was an excellent choice for use in our schools as well in our community. From the description of homeless camps to the involvement of outside agencies, the progression in the book is smoothly transitioned. For Caroline’s father, the challenges of making a new home hospitable and safe, having few resources and staying below the radar of others, the scenes Rock portrays are compelling and rich in detail and interest. This book can evoke and foster discussions of relationships, the impact of traumatic events on individual lives and the importance of education and family. I would recommend this book to YA and adult readers alike. I give it a 4 star rating.

[mjspear_1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

At one level, a tale of 'back woods' survival; on another, a psychological study of a daughter and father relationship and shifting needs and loyalties; on yet another level, a look at what it is to live beyond social norms. All of this, plus wonderful writing (shades of Cormac McCarthy) makes this one of the most memorable books this reader has encountered in a long time. Caroline and her father live simply in a large city park -- homeless but resourceful, their days have a kind of quiet rhythm and they lack for little. When they are discovered, they are imprisoned (briefly), forced to live on a farm (from which they ultimately escape) and begin a real life on the lam. There are dangers and disasters, many twists and turns, yet the end is surprisingly upbeat. Many questions remain: who is Caroline, really? Who is her "father"? Is their relationship simply that of a father and daughter? Is Caroline really happy or is she a victim of the Stockholm Syndrome? What price must be paid to fit into society?

[sharlene_w · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Inspired by a true-life incident where a father and daughter were found living off-the-grid and then basically forced to integrate into society and then mysteriously disappeared again. I found the story interesting and believable up until the yurt / cave incidents. It slid downhill from there with a storyline that seemed unlikely, disconnected and unbelievable. I did enjoy the father-daughter characters, however. I would like to know who they really were, why they chose that lifestyle and what really happened to them. I doubt if this contrived story is anything near as interesting as the true story. (Listened to audiobook)

[justpeachy_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

In 2004, a man and his 12-year-old daughter were discovered living in Portland's Forest Park, where they had been staying for the past four years. Authorities discovered that they were happy and healthy and so they offered them a home and employment at a Washington County horse farm. But after a short amount of time, the father and daughter left the farm and haven't been seen again. Intrigued by the story and how little was known about them, Peter Rock decided to write a fictional story about the pair. The first half of the book embellishes on the known facts of the story, and the second half of the book speculates on where they went after they disappeared. The story is told from the perspective of 13-year-old Caroline, who dutifully follows her father's lead, rarely questioning his actions or motivations. He loves and cares for his daughter, even though other people see his purposefully homeless lifestyle as being detrimental to his daughter's well-being. This is a simple but well-told story that will leave you thinking about the characters long after you've finished the book.

[tigerlms · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

13 year old Caroline isn't experiencing a typical childhood. She lives in the woods of a large park near Portland, Oregon. It's the only existence she's known, and she's well schooled in the art of avoiding notice, keeping their semi-permanent home of tree branches and tarps well hidden, and being able to pack up and move at a moment's notice. Yet one afternoon Caroline makes a small mistake and their home is discovered, which leads to the father and daughter being brought in for questions and a battery of wellness tests for Caroline. This is a dark take on a childhood, and the ending is not what most would hope to see.

[megrockstar · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I had heard of this book on NPR. It is mysterious because I never read or saw anything about it elsewhere yet the few people I mentioned it to( avid readers and some less than..), they had also heard of it in different places. I was very interested in the mysterious aspect of living "off the grid" and this father and daughter definitely do that. The story is told through the voice of the daughter and The author; Peter Rock has a great sense of a young girl and can get really portray her spirit well and she is a very likable character. The father is a bit of a mystery. There were a few unanswered questions at the end but I guess they were a thread among the whole story.It was very fast read and my second kindle purchase. I do recommend this title. I am not a mystery(genre)reader but the small thread of wonderment was enough to hold onto. Very much a "what is going to happen next" type of book.

[lynnsigman · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Combined listening and reading, although didn't love reader. Interesting story of thirteen year old girl living outside society with her father in Forest Park, Oregon. When they are "caught", she has trouble reentering society. Ending kind of left open to interpretation. Good for YA readers.

[alebarbu · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

"My Abandonment" takes the reader deep into the world of a father and his thirteen-year-old daughter Caroline who live in a nature preserve on the outskirts of Portland, Oregon. They have set up a cave shelter in the park, and organize their lives so as not to make their presence in the park noticeable. Once a week, they go to the city to buy groceries (thanks to a disability check the father receives), and check books out from the library. They have been living in the park for four years when a small mistake allows them to be discovered. They are put in the care of social services. This changes their entire existence, and although well-meaning, the people who are trying to set them on a path to a "normal" life cannot even begin to comprehend the world of Caroline and her father who only want to be left alone, and live according to their wishes. Instead of submitting to what is seen as appropriate by society (having a home and a job), the father gives in to his penchant for homelessness, and takes Caroline farther away from the world. In doing so, he puts both their lives at risk.This book is quite haunting because it is disturbing. It makes us see the world from the point of view of those who live at the margins of society, often forgotten by it, and longing to be left in their "abandonment". The book is narrated from the point of view of Caroline, and little by little, we learn bits about her and her father's past. Her voice is sincere, and her thoughts quite profound for her age. It is the reflection of the different life she has been living. We sometimes think that Caroline might be less "extremist" than her father, and it seems that once in a while she wishes for the easy comfort of a life in a regular house. Yet, the way she lives at the end of the book shows us how much she has been affected by those few years spent living in the woods with her father. We understand that her way of seeing the world and envisioning life is quite different from what we are used to, and that, although she has integrated into society through studies and a job, she will never quite live life like a "regular" person.This book can be of interest to high schoolers because they might relate to the young narrator, and high schoolers might find its portrayal of a different way of life appealing. The writing is usually quite simple since it is supposed to be the voice of a thirteen-year-old (there is even a "mise-en-abyme" in the text when Caroline tells us about writing the very book we are reading). Yet, the complexity and deepness of her reflection at times is at once striking and mesmerizing. I recommend this book for grades 10-12.

[fig2_1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Based on a true story of a father and his teenage daughter who actually lived in Forest Park in Portland, Oregon for six or so years. No one knew they were there and the city residents really were affected by their story when it finally came to light. Peter Rock is a writing professor at Reed College in Portland, and he has obviously done his research, as well as understanding the outcry of the city residents on behalf of the family. His prose is spare and slight, yet heavy with meaning; a seemingly impossible task that he pulls off with complete grace.There are a couple of surprises toward the end that I did not see coming at all and I actually *gasped* out loud! Rock managed to find a way to twist his little book in a totally different direction than I had anticipated. Well done, Mr. Rock!This little beautifully written gem is excellent and absolutely perfect!

[slatta_5 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Thought-provoking, beautifully told, often disturbing. Although the narrator is 13 years old, it's not a YA novel. It could very well be a crossover novel for some teens, however. Inspired by a true story. One of the best books of 2009, IMO.

[bobbieharv · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

A very strange book. I really liked the beginning, about a supposed father and daughter living in an urban wilderness; going into town to collect his checks and buy food; and how they managed to hide from everyone. Why they had to hide isn't clear till the end, when it gets a bit creepy. I wish there had been more detail about what it was like in the beginning, before she got Stockholm syndrome (I guess that's what we're supposed to think - it was a bit unclear).

[esta1923 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

My Abandonment by Peter Rock is based on fact. He has extrapolated from actual news items about a father and daughter who for several years lived outside of society, quite near a metropolitan area. In an interview (available on You Tube) he tells us that his preparation for the novel involved spending time in the park area where they’d been discovered, and actually going to places where he imagined they might have gone when they fled.Rock’s portraits are believable, including the dialogue. Given an intelligent (although traumatized ) man, and an impressionable pre-teen daughter their years together might have been spent as he reports. The latter chapters are heartbreaking. That Caroline can make her way after her father’s death is something readers will hope for.~~~I received this book as a gift from an LTf riend, and I thank her here.

[mckait · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

"Valor consists in the power of self discovery"There are many such quotations in the book. A book filled with both bits of wisdom and mounting horror. Caroline is a thirteen year old girl. She and her father are homeless, and living in a public forest. It doesn't take long to realize that her father is both mentally ill and very protective and loving in his own peculiar way.Caroline is "home schooled" meaning that her father, who is not unintelligent, sees to her education. They visit the public library in the town nearest to them. Caroline has encyclopedias which she reads, and she is taught math and an odd sort of philosophy among other things, by her dad.Although Caroline has been warned to stay out of sight at all times, they do live on public land, and inevitably, one day she is spotted. What follows is enough to give you hope that she will somehow be given an opportunity to live a more typical life.The characters in this book are compelling, especially Caroline. I was impressed to find a teenage girl so well portrayed by a male writer. There was something very unique about the writing style of this book, the cadence of the text. I found this book to be difficult to put down. It is so easy to become deeply involved in the story, you just want to go on and on. I will recommend this to friends, it is a very good read.

[alexann_1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Haunting story of a young girl making her way in the world--her own way, not somebody else's. Caroline lives with her father in the forest. They are not quite homeless--they build comfortable shelters, and learn the ways of the forest. Caroline learns to walk silently through the woods, to climb trees where she spends time observing the natural world around her. Her father is wise in many ways--but perhaps not as stable as he would like Caroline to believe. Their life is idyllic--until someone from the city catches sight of Caroline, and realizes that she and her father are living in the forest and she is not going to school. Beautifully written and a stunningly unusual story!

[frisbeesage · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

My Abandonment is a stark tale of what happens to people who live outside what is considered the norm. Caroline and her father live hidden away in a 5,400 acre park outside Portland, Oregon. They live by their own code, never stealing, respecting the world around them, and with Caroline being homeshcooled by her father. They are safe until a small slip allows the authorities to find them and force them to live in a way more acceptable to society. This is a frightening yet fascinating look at the lives of people living on the edge. Caroline is forced to grow up fast and to be stronger and more resourceful then any person should ever have to be. My heart ached for her while I admired her at the same time.

[sfisk_8 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

A very fast paced read. Almost immediately you are hooked by the narrators unique view of the world around her. As her story unfolds you understand why she has had to develop that perspective, living outside society by choice.She lives almost exclusively in her head, and there is no display of emotion regardless of what hardships they must endure. Yet there is a depth and almost a warmth in the precise, analytical way she recounts events. Never judging, and always recalling a memory or "lesson" that explains the situations they find themselves confronted with.All in all it was a fascinating look into a life we can't even imagine, but is not so far removed to be implausible. I enjoyed it thoroughly !