When Crickets Cry [NOOK Book]

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Overview

A man with a painful past. A child with a doubtful future. And a shared journey toward healing for both their hearts.



It begins on the shaded town square in a sleepy Southern town. A spirited seven-year-old has a brisk business at her lemonade stand. Her latest customer, a bearded stranger, drains his cup and heads to his car, his mind on a boat he's restoring at a nearby lake. But the little girl's pretty yellow dress can't quite hide the ugly scar on her chest. The stranger understands more about it than he wants to admit. And the beat-up bread truck careening around the corner with its radio blaring is about to ...

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Overview

A man with a painful past. A child with a doubtful future. And a shared journey toward healing for both their hearts.



It begins on the shaded town square in a sleepy Southern town. A spirited seven-year-old has a brisk business at her lemonade stand. Her latest customer, a bearded stranger, drains his cup and heads to his car, his mind on a boat he's restoring at a nearby lake. But the little girl's pretty yellow dress can't quite hide the ugly scar on her chest. The stranger understands more about it than he wants to admit. And the beat-up bread truck careening around the corner with its radio blaring is about to change the trajectory of both their lives.



Before it's over, they'll both know there are painful reasons why crickets cry...and that miracles lurk around unexpected corners.

Editorial Reviews

Kirkus Reviews
Christian-fiction writer Martin (The Dead Don't Dance, not reviewed) chronicles the personal tragedy of a Georgia heart surgeon. Five years ago in Atlanta, Reese could not save his beloved wife Emma from heart failure, even though the Harvard-trained surgeon became a physician so that he could find a way to fix his childhood sweetheart's congenitally faulty ticker. He renounced practicing medicine after her death and now lives in quiet anonymity as a boat mechanic on Lake Burton. Across the lake is Emma's brother Charlie, who was rendered blind on the same desperate night that Reese fought to revive his wife on their kitchen floor. When Reese helps save the life of a seven-year-old local girl named Annie, who turns out to have irreparable heart damage, he is compassionately drawn into her case. He also grows close to Annie's attractive Aunt Cindy and gradually comes to recognize that the family needs his expertise as a transplant surgeon. Martin displays some impressive knowledge about medical practice and the workings of the heart, but his Christian message is not exactly subtle. "If anything in this universe reflects the fingerprint of God, it is the human heart," Reese notes of his medical studies. Emma's letters (kept in a bank vault) quote Bible verse; Charlie elucidates stories of Jesus' miracles for young Annie; even the napkins at the local bar, The Well, carry passages from the Gospel of John for the benefit of the biker clientele. Moreover, Martin relentlessly hammers home his sentimentality with nature-specific metaphors involving mating cardinals and crying crickets. (Annie sells crickets as well as lemonade to raise money for her heart surgery.) Reese's habitual muttering ofworldly slogans from Milton and Shakespeare ("I am ashes where once I was fire") doesn't much cut the cloying piety, and an over-the-top surgical save leaves the reader feeling positively bruised. Deep schmaltz in the Bible Belt.

Product Details

  • ISBN-13: 9781418526726
  • Publisher: Nelson, Thomas, Inc.
  • Publication date: 4/4/2006
  • Sold by: Barnes & Noble
  • Format: eBook
  • Pages: 352
  • Sales rank: 13,063
  • File size: 724 KB

Meet the Author

Charles Martin
Charles Martin
Charles Martin is the critically-acclaimed author of The Dead Don’t Dance and Wrapped in Rain. He and his wife, Christy, live a stone’s throw from the St. John’s River in Jacksonville, Florida, with their three boys: Charlie, John T., and Rives.

Read an Excerpt

Prologue

I pushed against the spring hinge, cracked open the screen door, and scattered two hummingbirds fighting over my feeder. The sound of their wings faded into the dogwood branches above, and it was there that the morning met me with streaks of sunkist cracking across the skyline. Seconds before, God had painted the sky a mixture of black and deep blue, then smeared it with rolling wisps of cotton and sprayed it with specks of glitter, some larger than others. I turned my head sideways, sort of corkscrewing my eyes, and decided that heaven looked like a giant granite countertop turned upside down and framing the sky. Maybe God was down here drinking His coffee too. Only difference was, He didn't need to read the letter in my hand. He already knew what it said.

Below me the Tallulah River spread out seamlessly into Lake Burton in a sheet of translucent, unmoving green, untouched by the antique cutwaters and Jet Skis that would split her skin and roll her to shore at 7:01 a.m. In moments, God would send the sun upward and westward where it would shine hot, and where by noon the glare off the water would be painful and picturesque.

I stepped off the back porch, the letter clutched in my hand, and picked my barefoot way down the stone steps to the dock. I walked along the bulkhead, felt the coolness of the mist rising on my legs and face, and climbed the steps leading to the top of the dockhouse. I slid into the hammock and faced southward down the lake, looking out over my left knee. I looped my finger through the small brass circle tied to the end of a short string and pulled gently, rocking myself.

If God was down here drinking His coffee, then He was on his second cup, because He'd already Windexed the sky. Only the streaks remained.

Emma once told me that some people spend their whole lives trying to outrun God, maybe get someplace He's never been. She shook her head and smiled, wondering why. Trouble is, she said, they spend a lifetime searching and running, and when they arrive, they find He's already been there.

I listened to the quiet but knew it wouldn't last. In an hour the lake would erupt with laughing kids on inner tubes, teenagers in Ski Nautiques, and retirees in pontoon boats, replacing the Canadian geese and bream that followed a trail of Wonder Bread cast by an early morning bird lover and now spreading across the lake like the yellow brick road. By late afternoon, on the hundreds of docks stretching out into the lake, charcoal grills would simmer with the smell of hot dogs, burgers, smoked oysters, and spicy sausage. And in the yards and driveways that all leaned inward toward the lake's surface like a huge salad bowl, folks of all ages would tumble down Slip'n Slides, throw horseshoes beneath the trees, sip mint juleps and margaritas along the water's edge, and dangle their toes off the second stories of their boathouses. By 9:00 p.m., most every homeowner along the lake would launch the annual hour-long umbrella of sonic noise, lighting the lake in flashes of red, blue, and green rain. Parents would gaze upward; children would giggle and coo; dogs would bark and tug against their chains, digging grooves in the back sides of the trees that held them; cats would run for cover; veterans would remember; and lovers would hold hands, slip silently into the out coves, and skinny-dip beneath the safety of the water. Sounds in the symphony of freedom.

It was Independence Day.

Unlike the rest of Clayton, Georgia, I had no fireworks, no hot dogs, and no plans to light up the sky. My dock would lie quiet and dark, the grill cold with soot, old ashes, and spiderwebs. For me, freedom felt distant. Like a smell I once knew but could no longer place. If I could, I would have slept through the entire day like a modern-day Rip van Winkle, opened my eyes tomorrow, and crossed off the number on my calendar. But sleep, like freedom, came seldom and was never sound. Short fits mostly. Two to three hours at best.

I lay on the hammock, alone with my coffee and yellowed memories. I balanced the cup on my chest and held the wrinkled, unopened envelope. Behind me, fog rose off the water and swirled in miniature twisters that spun slowly like dancing ghosts, up through the overhanging dogwood branches and hummingbird wings, disappearing some thirty feet in the air.

Her handwriting on the envelope told me when to read the letter within. If I had obeyed, it would have been two years ago. I had not, and would not today. Maybe I could not. Final words are hard to hear when you know for certain they are indeed final. And I knew for certain. Four anniversaries had come and gone while I remained in this nowhere place. Even the crickets were quiet.

I placed my hand across the letter, flattening it upon my chest, spreading the corners of the envelope like tiny paper wings around my ribs. A bitter substitute.

Around here, folks sit in rocking chairs, sip mint juleps, and hold heated arguments about what exactly is the best time of day on the lake. At dawn, the shadows fall ahead of you, reaching out to touch the coming day. At noon, you stand on your shadows, caught somewhere between what was and what will be. At dusk, the shadows fall behind you and cover your tracks. In my experience, the folks who choose dusk usually have something to hide.

Customer Reviews

Average Rating 4.5
( 129 )

Rating Distribution

5 Star

(82)

4 Star

(25)

3 Star

(17)

2 Star

(4)

1 Star

(1)

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See All Sort by: Showing 1 – 20 of 131 Customer Reviews
  • Posted March 18, 2012

    Good Story- well written.

    I really liked the storyline of this book. A young girl needs a heart transplant and a brilliant heart-transplant surgeon just happens to meet her while he's hiding from his past. It's written with a couple chapters in the present then a couple in the past for back story, which worked nicely. I got a little bored about 2/3 of the way through- and a little more than a little frustrated with the medical lingo- the detail was nice at first, but then seemed to take over when the story got more involved with the hospital side of things. . . From there I just got more and more frustrated at the predictability and how everything fell a little too neatly into place in order to make the story as heart-wrenching as possible. . . I would recommend this but wouldn't rave about it.

    1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted April 17, 2011

    WHen crickets cry

    WAS A BIT BOGGED DOWN IN BEGINNING, too much off track. IT got much better halfway through and was heart warming.

    1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted June 6, 2009

    Expected it to be so much better

    This book was disappointing because it could have been so much better if not so simplistic and contrived. From the very beginning it was obvious that the plot would follow a certain course and the ending was never in any doubt. However, that the author chose to play games with his readers ruined the book for me. The coincidence of a tornado, the failure of Annie's heart and the appearance of a heart for transplant all at the same time was just too much to swallow. Then, even worse, the "trick" ending to fool the reader and then the almost unexplained real ending was an insult to the reader. This book could have been so good if the author had treated his readers as adults and not written it as if hoping it would become a Hallmark movie.

    1 out of 2 people found this review helpful.

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  • Posted May 23, 2012

    Wonderful book!

    Wonderful book!

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  • Posted February 17, 2012

    Highly Recommend

    THis was a unexpected Read. Could not but it down. Felt like I new the charactors in the book. Laughed-Cried and rejoiced at the end.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted February 13, 2012

    AWESOME!!!!!!!!!

    I love this book, it is my favorite. I couldnt setbit down and it was verrrry suspencful. :)

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  • Anonymous

    Posted December 23, 2011

    Keeps me wanting to read more!

    Rich descriptions made me feel like I was in a quiet little town and personally watching moments in the lives of wonderful people. They kept me reading late into the night. (They also caused my daughter, who is not an avid reader, to put the book down and search for another) For a few hours each day I was in love with two amazing gentlemen, walked the shores of a beautiful lake, found hope in the eyes of an adorable little girl and cheered on an Aunt who gives all she has and all she is to her niece.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted January 23, 2012

    Wonderful!

    A heart gripper!

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  • Anonymous

    Posted October 4, 2011

    Highly recommended.

    I loved the book. It was thought provoking and yet offered humor in the various personalities of the characters. Wonderful, heartfelt story!!

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  • Anonymous

    Posted September 24, 2011

    My new favorite author

    I love Charles Martin. His stories captivate me from the beginning lines. He writes deeply and emotionally. He "paints" words as an artist paints a landscape.

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  • Posted August 30, 2011

    A little disappointing.

    Slow and repetitive in spots

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  • Posted July 10, 2011

    excellent read

    while alot of reads are extremely wordy which just fills pages When Crickets Cry is wordy in some parts but explains the heart of this book. Charles Martin is new to me but I am sure I will check out more of his work.Very good book for a club.

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  • Posted June 9, 2011

    Great book!

    Such a great story- very well written! It pulls you in and tugs at your heart.

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  • Posted June 8, 2011

    Yup

    I ggotta read this book over the summer for the honors program i am in. Hope its good!!!!

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  • Posted March 16, 2011

    LOVE LOVE LOVE this book.

    This book has been on my to read list for a while now and once I started reading I could not stop. Anyone looking for a book that will touch your heart and make you really think this is the one!

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  • Posted December 28, 2010

    Highly Recommended - A Must Read!!

    Fabulous Read and tenderly written. The author pulls you in with every word. Telling you stories of the past and present. His words take you through emotions of happiness, sadness and anger. Laughing out loud at times, tearful at others, or simply looking up and really thinking about what was just written. But in the end, you will be smiling contently.

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  • Posted September 19, 2010

    WOW! What a great writer.

    Many emotions involved. Stayed up most of one night to finish, what an amazing read!

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  • Posted March 20, 2010

    A Five-Star Winner

    I don't usually give any book five stars, but this time I'm sorry a ten-star rating wasn't offered as an option for "When Crickets Cry."

    This is Charles Martin's best book ever and, along with "The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society," one of the two best-written books I've read recently.

    So as not to give away any plot lines or surprises in the book, I'll only address Charles Martin's writing style and his vast knowledge of the things he chose to write about in this novel. Note: Although "When Crickets Cry" is fictional, Mr. Martin's research is thorough and his facts are true.

    The plot is one you'll enjoy peeling away one layer at a time. Mr. Martin's descriptions of the settings are thorough but never boring. Each time he adds another tidbit to your knowledge of the area and the people who live there---which are germane to the plot---you'll wish that you, too, could live in that town, drive your boat on that beautiful lake, and have characters like those in this book as your neighbors.

    His main character's "calling" is described in much the same manner...in depth but in a way that's easy to understand and relate to.

    The appeal of this novel crosses gender lines. My all-female book discussion group had a lively discussion about this book, which they liked immensely. My husband and my older brother both loved it, too. So, whether you're male or female, I feel sure that you'll like it, too.

    Once you start "When Crickets Cry," you'll still be reading into the wee hours of the morning; it's that hard to put down. You won't mind missing a little sleep this one time; you'll be up early the next morning, anyhow---searching online for more information on Lake Burton, Georgia!

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  • Posted October 28, 2009

    Beautiful

    Beautiful book. Kind of hard to follow along at first but very interesting throughout! Makes one rethink about how "bad" their life really is.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted September 12, 2009

    a good read

    I liked it - thought it kept my interest - wanted to keep reading - and
    enjoyed the story line alot - very interesting -
    would recommend it to others
    Easy read too

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See All Sort by: Showing 1 – 20 of 131 Customer Reviews

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