56 pages • 1 hour read
Alex FinlayA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
The Night Shift opens with an epigraph from A Farewell to Arms, by Ernest Hemingway. It reads: “The world breaks everyone and afterward many are strong at the broken places” (vii). This quote introduces the importance of trauma as a thematic concept. Alex Finlay’s exploration of trauma, its lasting effects, and the ways in which people try to heal focuses on three characters: Ella, Chris, and Jesse. A deep dive into Ella’s experiences offers a thorough look at the legacy of trauma, for her story demonstrates that trauma inflicts long-lasting damage. Little is said about Ella’s earliest trauma (her brother’s death), but this event significantly changes her life. She begins attending public school instead of an elite private school, and she even works a part-time job despite her family’s wealth. In turn, she survives a mass murder at that job. In the dramatic present, 15 years later, Ella’s unresolved trauma has saddled her with a variety of problems, fears, and behavioral issues. Subtext and the narrative tone make it clear that these problems—hair-pulling, a Xanax addiction, and a compulsion to cheat on her fiancé with strangers—are all products of her trauma. In a significant exchange with a therapy patient, she and the patient discuss how exhausting it is “[p]retending all the time. Faking the smiles and cheerfulness” (242) in an attempt to convince everyone else that nothing is wrong.
Later, Ella reveals some of the past effects that her trauma has forced her to endure, such as having nightmares and waking up in terror. One of the most prominent descriptions of trauma’s effects on her comes from a memory that is triggered when she enters Central Park:
Another image comes to her. During breaks from college, trolling the park after midnight. A perilous endeavor, even in the much safer era of NYC. Essentially, tempting someone to try it. She’d find the darkest sections—the Ramble, the North Woods, the ruins—and walk alone. Pepper spray at the ready, she’d think: go ahead, just you try. It was her way to take back control, but it never eradicated the fear in her bones (268).
Through Ella, the trauma of the Blockbuster murders has ripple effects on her family, causing trauma for some of them as well. For example, her father was so distraught over the fact that Vince got out of jail that he abducted and killed the boy. This action became its own trauma, haunting Ella’s father until he became so overwhelmed with guilt that he ended his own life.
Ella’s efforts to recover and heal from her trauma begin well before the book’s dramatic present and will likely continue long after the story’s end. Her choice to become a therapist represents a significant step in her healing process, for rather than allowing her trauma to consume her, she uses her unique experience to understand others’ traumas in a way that most counselors cannot. Talking about trauma with her clients triggers painful thoughts and memories for Ella, but it also pushes her to confront her own issues rather than running from them, as Chris has. Ella finds meaning by giving back to the community and helping other victims and survivors. Although things are going well for her when she joins Chris as a travel vlogger at the novel’s end, the narrative also implies that her recovery is an ongoing journey.
The Night Shift depicts characters who face various types of abuse in the present or confront the abuse from the past. In part, Finlay includes these depictions as a way to shape the main plotline. Two separate mass murders in a small community do not occur in a vacuum; they are the culmination of a breakdown of social safeguards and a proliferation of deeply problematic relationships. The story therefore works to bring several different types of abuse into focus, including the emotional neglect on the part of a parent, the ravages of domestic violence perpetrated by a parent, bullying through malicious gossip, and the sexual exploitation of underage girls by their teachers. These portrayals offer a reminder that children and teenagers are vulnerable to many forms of abuse from the adults they trust, and the narrative emphasizes that these experiences can lead to lasting trauma.
Non-sexual abuse is less central to the murders at the heart of the story but equally important to the thematic message about the broader impacts of abuse. After the tragedy of the Blockbuster murders, for example, Ella is clearly traumatized and in need of support. However, the narrative reveals that her mother, Phyllis, “never had the fortitude to hear about that night” (124), and the lasting damage of this approach becomes fully apparent when she tells the adult Ella to simply move past the experience. Ella resents her mother for depriving her of the love, empathy, and comfort that she desperately needed at that time in her life. In Phyllis’s typically undemonstrative manner, she eventually acknowledges that she should have been there for Ella.
This theme is further explored in the character of Jesse. Following Jesse’s victimization by a teacher, her classmates add to the abuse by spreading malicious rumors about her, claiming that she seduced her teacher and made a porn film with him, when in reality, he drugged and sexually abused her. The emotional harm and humiliation that this experience and its social fallout cause Jesse become fully apparent when Jesse confesses her experiences with bullying and social ostracization to Ella and sobs, showing genuine emotion for the first time. Jesse has remained aloof and emotionally distant in the wake of her attack and arrest, so her tears demonstrate how profoundly this bullying has hurt her. The narrative therefore suggests that such gossip also contributes to a culture of blaming and shaming victims, making others less likely to come forward when they are abused.
The most prominent form of abuse in the book is sexual exploitation, which lies at the heart of the murder mystery. Even secondary aspects of the novel point to this issue. Although Chad Parke is not the killer, he is a high school teacher who has taken advantage of a girl who trusted him. Ella calls him “a predator who took advantage of a young girl who needed a father figure” (240). Mr. Parke’s lies about his actions add insult to injury, unfairly discrediting Jesse and casting doubt on her integrity. The community also makes things worse by questioning Jesse and making her feel as though she has done something wrong by suffering abuse. Katie and Hannah are also victimized by a trusted adult male on their school faculty. Mr. Steadman’s sexual abuse leads to emotional harm for both girls, a pregnancy for Katie, and finally, to their murders. The events that horrify the community all stem from this abuse. Though Ella escapes the Blockbuster murders with her life, Mr. Steadman abuses her in the aftermath. In Chapter 1, for example, when he asks her to help Jesse, she “wants to protest. Wants to make an excuse. But she can’t. Not after everything Mr. Steadman has done for her” (8). He has insinuated himself into her life and has gained her trust as a way to manipulate and control her years after he committed the Blockbuster murders. Because he, as the murderer, is posing as a trusted mentor and support system for Ella, even this emotional betrayal is a form of abuse. The novel’s array of abuse stories provides a vivid reminder of the need to protect children and shore up their safety networks.
Dale Steadman is portrayed as the metaphorical wolf in sheep’s clothing. Everyone sees him as the cool teacher and competent principal who is loved by students and parents alike. In his public persona, he portrays himself as being dedicated to his work, and he professes to be too gentle to use words any harsher than phrases such as “for goodness’s sake” (57). In truth, he is a sexual predator and a serial killer, and Jesse struggles with the idea that he is “a monster in plain sight” (304) that she failed to recognize. However, a comment of Keller’s casts events in another light and clarifies the novel’s broader message about people’s true nature. She says, “The sheep spends its life worried about the wolf, only to be eaten by the farmer” (304). This metaphor applies to Mr. Steadman because he works so hard to cultivate a persona of innocence to hide his brutal agenda. Thus, he is the metaphorical farmer who raises the sheep and marks them for slaughter.
The revelation that Mr. Steadman is the killer is meant to come as a twist. However, the stories of Chris, Jesse, and Ella include seemingly unrelated examples of people who prove to be other than they seem, and these many incidents develop a message that implicitly hints at the killer’s true identity. For example, Chris’s work as a public defender helps him to see the error of judging people by appearances and stereotypes. He notes being “surprised to learn that many pimps aren’t fur-jacket-wearing clichés, but domineering spouses in abusive relationships” (51). On the other end of the spectrum, he knows that the wealthy clients represented by elitist corporate lawyers are not all they pretend to be, and his experiences prove that criminals don’t always look like criminals; most hide behind respectable façades.
Jesse’s conversation with Ella at the coffee shop in Chapter 12 is another good example of how people hide their less socially acceptable traits. Jesse points out the fact that Ella’s fiancé makes sure that everybody knows what a good guy he is on social media. In response, Ella tells Jesse, “People who virtue-signal are much more likely to have what they call the ‘dark triad’ of personality traits—Machiavellianism, narcissism, and psychopathy” (59). Although Ella’s fiancé does not fit this description, Dale Steadman does. Thus, Finlay provides a template with which to evaluate the various characters involved and determine who the true killer might be.
Ella’s job, like Chris’s, lets her see another aspect of false personas: the pain and dysfunction that her clients hide from the world. Just before meeting with Jesse at the coffee shop, Ella has therapy sessions with a student who is about to flunk out of college but is hiding this from her parents, and a “seemingly perfect mother of two who purged every piece of food that entered her body” (56). Seeing this, Ella has more insight than many people into the fact that people’s private lives contain hidden depths. Even so, it is difficult for her to avoid making assumptions at times. When Jesse reveals her side of what happened with Chad Parke, Ella finds it hard to believe because, as she observes, “Jesse is extremely smart and world-wise for someone her age. She also seems to be unusually manipulative” (240). Fortunately, Ella’s past experiences also enable her to apply compassion to her observations and realize that despite Jesse’s faults, she is still “just a kid, a teenager” (240). This allows Ella to give Jesse the benefit of the doubt. These examples reinforce the idea that people are not always what they seem to be. By extension, if the supportive, gentle principal seems too good to be true, he just might be a wolf—or a farmer—in sheep’s clothing.