David Baillie

Hamilton, Ontario, 1953. A nine-year-old boy meets with a horrific death at the hands of a sociopath; his little body is then hidden away in a soon-to-be-sealed tenement coal chute where it lies for two decades. The remains, discovered by contractors rerouting a pipe in 1974, make for sensational news; the fact that ten small bones are missing causes further speculation. But interest in the cold case fades quickly—except in the imagination of a tragically lonely boy named Scott Campbell, a resident of that sad building who suffers (equally) from undiagnosed Selective Mutism and the terrible neglect of his mentally ill mother. In the building’s furnace room, Scotty meets his one and only friend: a child’s playful, coal-black shadow that follows him through a litany of foster homes and into adulthood. Now, in 1987, thirteen years after the discovery of those remains, Scotty is an enigmatic street artist who makes strange sculptures out of found objects, which he leaves in the forgotten and overlooked corners of the city. Scotty’s social worker, Simon, despairs over Scotty’s plight: the mute will soon be completely on his own, for he aged out of government-sponsored aid almost two years ago and is now living on the remnants of a miracle extension arranged by Simon’s boss. Simon also has his own dilemma: as a Mohawk with invested interest in the Six Nations of the Grand River, he feels like he is betraying his own community by working for the government-funded Children’s Aid Society in Hamilton. Caught between pressure at home and the impending end of Scotty’s meagre support, Simon is losing faith in both the System and himself. Little Bones is a heart-rending tale of loss, redemption, and the cruel consequences of investing in that most beautiful of lies—hope.

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