Seventeen-year-old Ellie learns in the novel’s first few chapters who murdered her cousin Trevor: Dr. Abe Allerton of Willowbee, Texas. Her goal, then, becomes figuring out both how Dr. Allerton killed Trevor and how to get justice for her cousin—and what justice even looks like in this context. Ellie recognizes that since Trevor was a working-class Native American and his murderer is a wealthy and powerful white doctor who killed Trevor using magic (which isn’t considered reliable evidence in court), it’s very unlikely that the court system will give Trevor the justice he deserves. Indeed, as expected, the coroner rules Trevor’s death an accident. Thus, it falls to Ellie and her family—including Trevor’s ghost—to navigate what kind of justice is suitable in this particular situation (and how to get it).
As a ghost, Trevor suggests that the only correct answer is violence: Dr. Allerton, and everyone else who dares consider harming another Native person, must suffer and die a gruesome, terrifying death. While Ellie initially wants Dr. Allerton to suffer, she ultimately realizes that allowing Trevor’s ghost to brutally murder him and the complicit Willowbee townsfolk doesn’t actually get anyone justice. Rather, this violence will just beget more violence. Thus, she instead decides to show the complicit townsfolk mercy and takes Dr. Allerton to the underworld, where he’ll be tormented by all his victims who, like Trevor, never received justice. In this way, she seeks a certain amount of retribution without getting carried away. In other words, Ellie finds a way to individually punish Dr. Allerton—and, in doing so, protect his future victims—without going overboard by responding to injustice with extreme, wide-sweeping violence. While Ellie and her family are painfully aware that this won’t return Trevor to his family or compensate them in a meaningful way, it does mean that Dr. Allerton won’t continue to exploit, hurt, and kill other innocent victims. In addition, showing the complicit townspeople mercy will perhaps guide them toward making better choices in the future. In an imperfect justice system, the novel suggests, this is perhaps the best anyone can hope for.
Related Themes from Other Texts
Justice ThemeTracker
Justice Quotes in Elatsoe
Hopefully, it happened through a police investigation that led to an arrest that resulted in a successful trial by jury and a murder conviction. However, the justice system was imperfect. Many crimes remained unsolved, especially violence against Natives. Plus, Trevor’s death was so strange, magic might have been involved. That was a potential death blow against justice. Magic, as energy from another realm, corrupted and altered the fabric of reality. The defense for Abe Allerton could argue that any trace of magic at the crime scene negated his chance for a fair trial, since there was no way to trust the evidence beyond a reasonable doubt. Nine times out of ten, that argument worked for people with million-dollar lawyers. Strangely, it rarely worked for anyone else.
It took a while, but the Leech was finally dead. Ellie had finished Six-Great’s task.
It should have been a proud moment, but Ellie also felt profoundly sad. The Leech was the last of its kind. The monsters of her ancestors had been replaced by different threats. Invasive creatures, foreign curses, cruel magics, and alchemies. Vampires were the new big bloodsuckers.
Ellie couldn’t use the rings, however, because all portal travel had to be approved and facilitated by fairy folk, and fairies didn’t like “strangers.” Strangers, in their opinion, constituted anybody without familial ties to at least one interdimensional person, commonly known as “fae.” That wasn’t Ellie. Every time she had to pay for an expensive airline ticket or miss a field trip, her disdain for the otherworldly snobs increased. It seemed cruel that humanoids from a different realm could discriminate against her—and others—on her own homeland. The “fair” in “fairy” didn’t stand for justice, however, and they didn’t care about any rules but their own.
“Here,” Lenore said, handing Ellie a velvet-wrapped parcel. “He wanted you to have this.”
Gingerly, Ellie unwrapped Trevor’s Swiss Army knife. “He used to carry this during hikes,” she said. “Every hike. Even little ones in Grandma’s yard. Just in case.” She held it carefully. “I’ll always carry it, too.”
“That’s Trevor,” Lenore said. “Prepared for just about anything. It didn’t help him in the end.”
“The two made off with four hundred dollars, Marlboros, and ten bags of dried meat. I remember a news reporter saying, ‘They killed a man for just four hundred dollars.’ And I thought that the word ‘just’ was completely unnecessary. No amount of money would make the crime less heinous. I don’t care if there was four billion dollars in that register, Ellie.”
“Nathaniel Grace learned a lesson from the fire. He made friends with other Pilgrims by hurting the people who frightened them more than he did.”
Page five continued, with a picture of a boxy building, “Nathaniel Grace made a hospital with the money he earned. He saved many lives.”
[...]
The final page displayed an anatomically accurate drawing of a leech. It belonged in a biology textbook, not a historical biography. Brett concluded: “Nathaniel Grace is a great American because he saved the lives of many people like presidents and war heroes. Without him, the country would not be the same and there would be no Willowbee. He founded the town to be a good home.”
“Be patient. Have faith.” Vivian put her arms around Lenore and Ellie and pulled them into a hug.
“Faith in what?” Lenore asked, and she sounded genuinely curious and a little bit spiteful. “Justice?”
“Family,” Vivian said. “It’s all we’ve ever had.”
“Only one kind of monster uses guns,” Vivian said.
“He’s just one man.” Trevor leaned forward, rooted to the grave. “There are millions more who will continue to treat our family and land like garbage. Think of them like pests.”
“Pests...”
“Termites in your house. Locusts in your field. It doesn’t make any difference if you crush just one insect. The swarm will devour your home.”
Ellie always reasoned that Six-Great lived in a more violent era, one that transformed pacifists into warriors. Six-Great didn’t fight because she enjoyed it; she had to protect her family and friends from genocide.
There were still people to protect. That, Ellie now realized, would never change.
“Everything I do tonight will be for him. For justice.” The exorcist corpse’s head flopped to one side, as if trying to study Ellie with its cloudy eyes. “He loved you,” the emissary said. “He loved all his family.”
“I love Trevor,” she said. “Always will.”
“Someday, you’ll be reunited,” the emissary promised. “If you want that day to come sooner rather than later, interfere with my vengeance.”
“Vengeance?” she wondered. “Didn’t you say ‘justice’ a moment ago?”
“In this case, they’re the same.”
“I am a neutral force,” Dr. Allerton said. “My healing balances my harm. Ellie, I tried to help you and your family. Did you know that I collected scholarship money for Trevor’s child? Well? Enough to pay for college! For grad school! You just wouldn’t let it go. Everything is a mess now.”
“Shut it,” Ellie said. “All the scholarships in the world can’t be a father to Gregory.”
How long would it take for the earth to heal? When would the sap on the metal-scarred tree harden into amber? It seemed odd that an act so violent and cruel could leave gemstones in its wake.
