The Campbell cousins always spend summers in Crystal Springs, in the Florida panhandle, visiting Granny, Ain’t Pitty and Uncle Ben, and assorted other ain’ts and uncles. The area was known as – you guessed it – the Wiregrass, so named for the type of grass that grew there which is – another big surprise – very wiry and sharp and difficult to walk on in bare feet.

This is a coming of age story, set in the deep south in the early 60s, when central air conditioning existed, but few people had it. And when it was still safe to let kids run free, as long as they stayed in the neighborhood and were home by dinner time. And stayed together. Their Momma warned them every summer, “This is a place where angels and demons dance, so be careful whose toes you’re steppin’ on.” Are you old enough to remember those days? I am, and I think it’s sad that we cannot give children that same kind of freedom today. I think it robs something from their childhood. But no doubt every generation thinks that of the next one.

The cousins are serious pranksters in the summer. Everyone know the TPings, doorbell jammings, etc. are done by the Campbell kids, but Ain’t Pitty just says, “If you have proof it was them, let me know.” But they’re growing up and they know the pranking is coming to an end, they know this is the last summer. So they cling tenaciously to that part of their childhood. Didn’t we all do that? For all that we want to grow up and be like the adults, part of us sensed we were at a turning point and there was no going back. That’s where these kids are in this story. Except for the two 6-year-olds, who are only involved in the daytime activities, not the pranking.

Nettie, the first-person narrator, is 14 and is mortified by the “half lemons,” as she dubs them, sitting on her chest. Her 15-year-old sister has whole lemons on her chest and seems to actually like it, which is way – which is to say, about a year – beyond Nettie.

Until she meets her first crush. The most beautiful boy she has ever seen. Mitchell. Suddenly, holding hands isn’t disgusting. This is the first summer Mitchell’s been in town and, being the only other kid in town their age, the kids and the ain’ts and uncles take him in just as if he were a real cousin. The kids know there is something wrong in Mitchell’s life. They soon put things together and figure out that he is being abused and molested by his father, who may or may not have killed his mother.

Nowadays, even the suspicion of abuse would be reported. In fact, in certain professions, it’s a legal obligation. Back then, if the child didn’t complain – and they never do – there was nothing the authorities could do. Nostalgic as you may be for the days of your childhood, no one wants to go back to those days.

That is part of Ms. Webber’s point in writing The Wiregrass. She is dedicated to helping abused children and getting the abuse to stop. But this book is in no way a soapbox. It’s just a really good story. The helicopters of Ft. Rucker are a leitmotif in the book. They are safety, they are reliable, and they are free.