The Juvie Three (review)

Doug Healy wants to give something back to society in return for the break he received as a troublemaking teen, and after a long battle with the juvenile justice system, he lands a grant and permission to take three incarcerated teen offenders into an experimental halfway house. Doug doesn’t know fully what he’s getting into; in fact, after the boys accidentally push him off a fire escape, Doug doesn’t know much of anything at all, particularly his own identity. The trio gets him safely to a hospital, but they’re too scared of pursuit to come forward with the facts, and while Doug slowly climbs out of a coma and into a state of retrograde amnesia, the boys decide their best course of action is to stick with the prescribed draconian schedule of school, community service, and counseling in hope of flying under the system’s radar until Doug reclaims his memory. Yes, it’s easy to see where this one’s going—of course the boys will make good when they’ve set their own bar and set it high. This is a Korman novel, though, so nothing is that straightforward. In a fabulous “No good deed goes unpunished” twist, everything they do right raises their profile while burying them deeper in trouble. Gecko, who takes on hospital volunteer work as he keeps an eye on Doug’s progress, lands a rich girlfriend whose father sends a high-ranking policeman to break the pair up. Arjay meets a high-school teacher who encourages his guitar talent, then joins a band that catches an agent’s eye, and he is pressured to sign a contract. Rico, the one who resists reformation, finally decides to break ties with the gangbangers, but they won’t let him off the hook. Nobody is more aware than Korman himself of the narrow line between possibility and improbability his characters walk: narrator Gecko whines, “It’s like all this is a bad movie, hatched from the twisted imagination of some sadistic screenwriter who specializes in worst-case scenarios.” But for Korman fans, twisted imagination is a good thing.