The Pipo Problem
Most middle-grade books have a bully who steals lunch money or a mean teacher. Pablo Cartaya goes bigger with Wilfrido Pipo. He is the ultimate "smarmy land developer" villain, a guy who uses charm and flashy renderings of a luxury high-rise to convince a neighborhood that their history is disposable.
Watching Arturo try to fight a guy who has more money, more influence, and better hair is where the book finds its teeth. It moves the story away from a simple "save the restaurant" plot and into a more complex look at how cities change. If your kid has ever seen a favorite local spot get replaced by a sterile chain pharmacy, they will feel this. It turns gentrification into something personal rather than a vocabulary word from social studies.
Poetry as a Power Move
If you tell a twelve-year-old boy he’s going to read a book about poetry, you might get an eye roll. But the way Arturo uses the work of José Martí isn't about rhyming or flowery metaphors. It is about protest.
Arturo is awkward. He’s a junior dishwasher who gets tongue-tied around Carmen. The poetry gives him a framework to say the things he’s too nervous to speak out loud. It’s a smart pivot that makes "literature" feel like a tool for rebellion. By the time he’s using Martí’s words to stand up to Pipo, the poetry feels like a weapon, not a homework assignment.
The "If They Liked X" Calculus
This book sits comfortably on the shelf next to stories where kids realize the adults in charge don't always have the best plan.
- If they liked the "kid against the system" energy of Front Desk by Kelly Yang, they will recognize Arturo’s hustle.
- If they appreciated the punk-rock rebellion and cultural identity in The First Rule of Punk by Celia C. Pérez, the Miami-Cuban vibes here will land perfectly.
- If they are into "the summer that changed everything" stories like The Crossover, they will dig the pacing.
The Emotional Gut-Punch
While the Amazon reviews sit at a high 4.7, some readers might be caught off guard by the tonal shift in the second half. This isn't just a wacky summer caper. The decline of Abuela is the real emotional weight. It is handled with a lot of grace, but it’s the part of the book that sticks.
We see Arturo realize that saving a building is one thing, but holding onto a legacy when a person is gone is a much bigger job. It’s a heavy lift for a 13-year-old, but Cartaya trusts his readers to handle it. You aren't just reading about a kid trying to win a fight; you're reading about a kid learning that some things can't be saved, and that's exactly when you have to find your own voice.
