In this gritty and fragmented narrative, we are drawn into the life of Tracey Berkowitz, a 15-year-old teenager grappling with profound vulnerabilities. She is first glimpsed hiding behind a tattered shower curtain on a city bus, completely exposed in her turmoil. Her quest to find her younger brother Sonny—who has become lost in an elaborate fantasy—propels the intricate story forward.
Tracey navigates her existence with a caustic sense of humor and biting sarcasm, battling the constant challenges posed by her verbally abusive and neglectful parents. Their attempts to reach out are well-meaning but deeply flawed, only widening the chasm between them. At school, she endures relentless bullying but finds a sliver of comfort in her psychiatrist, Dr. Heker, whose initial detachment slowly evolves into an empathetic understanding of her plight.
As the narrative unfolds, we are plunged into a tapestry of fragmented flashbacks that unravel Tracey's troubled past, including a particularly haunting moment at a police station during a frantic search for Sonny. We discover that Sonny's quirky behavior—his newfound tendency to mimic dogs—originated as a sibling game but spiraled uncontrollably, straining family dynamics.
Despite grappling with an upheaval at home and social rejection, Tracey's connection with Sonny remains a beacon of hope. This bond is poignantly exemplified when he gifts her a cherished necklace for her birthday. However, his abrupt disappearance during a freak blizzard sets off a chain of events intertwined with an older boy she secretly admires, Billy Zero.
As Tracey's realities and daydreams begin to blur, she imagines herself as “Estuary Palomino,” the dynamic lead singer of a metalcore band, wielding bleached-blond hair and a captivating stage presence. This escapism becomes a necessary refuge as she desperately contends with her brother's vanishing and the enigmatic circumstances surrounding it.
In her daily exploration of Manitoba’s stark landscape, Tracey finds herself on a relentless mission across the buses—her quest for Sonny eclipsing all other pursuits. Dr. Heker becomes increasingly captivated by the complexity of Tracey’s behavior, contemplating the possibility of borderline personality disorder. Flashbacks introduce us to her earliest memories, sharing the tale of Sonny's birth as narrated by their father, who weaves a myth about Sonny’s mother—a canine who succumbed to fate in the frozen north—leaving Tracey enveloped in mystery.
In the city’s bus network, she discovers a community of misfits and outcasts, all grappling with their own struggles for connection and understanding. As she immerses herself in this newfound realm, she witnesses a raw display of human flaws: violence, addiction, and the intoxicating nature of life. Her yearning for intimacy leads her to request to rent a room from Dr. Heker, only to face a compassionate yet firm rejection based on ethical grounds. Seeing Tracey’s plight, Dr. Heker encourages her to mend familial ties, but instead, Tracey finds herself captivated by Lance's apartment, where a scheming crow that frequents a broken window piques her interest.
As she attempts to navigate the adult world, the line between fantasy and reality becomes increasingly hazy. A disturbing encounter brings her to the brink of exploitation, prompting her to improvise a defense with a rusty tin can lid. Clad only in a flower-print shower curtain that serves as her worn cloak of dignity, she escapes the situation, irrevocably altered.
In a poignant climactic flashback, the heart-wrenching truth about Sonny's disappearance unfolds: on the night of the blizzard, Tracey, grounded yet determined, escaped under the pretense of taking Sonny for a walk to rendezvous with Billy. Unfortunately, this meeting culminated in tragedy, leaving Sonny lost amid the chaos. The crushing grief becomes a heavy burden. The narrative closes with a stark contrast—an image of a Winnipeg park illuminated by moonlight, a silent testament to the seasons that have passed since Sonny's fateful disappearance.
