One night two souls went walking A novel

A hospital chaplain working the night shift recalls encounters with patients, coworkers, and a therapy dog named Bobo Boy in Cooney's illuminating latest (after The Mountaintop School for Dogs and Other Second Chances). The unnamed 30-something chaplain, who wears her white collar with bright-colored blouses rather than clerical black, first became curious about the nature of souls in her childhood. She mentions her large family and two ex-lovers, but her focus is on the ill, injured, and dying strangers she's assigned to help--such as the bus driver involved in a crash where four people died, the bank teller who wants to be sure the angel carrying her into the afterlife is strong enough not to drop her, and the 91-year-old stroke victim nurses believe suffers from dementia. When a therapy dog escapes his handler, the chaplain remembers Bobo Boy, the beloved deceased mixed-breed therapy dog with a gift for providing comfort and a tendency to break loose. Brief, vivid portraits of Bobo Boy, doctors, nurses, patients and the chaplain herself form a memorable collage of souls in need. Cooney's uplifting novel captures extraordinary moments of sadness, pain, and grace, as one woman brings light to life's darkest moments. (Nov.)

Cooney's brief but compelling novel--in which an unnamed chaplain takes readers on her rounds during one night at a large Northeastern hospital--explores issues like mortality, spiritual survival, and human connection. The 36-year-old Episcopal chaplain, frizzy-haired and pear-shaped, has what her boss calls a natural gift for telling people what they need to hear. Her instinctive ability to soothe becomes increasingly evident as she travels from one patient to another. She is spiritual but practical. While she asks "What is a soul?" in the novel's first line--and returns to the question in different guises throughout--the narrator's spiritual quest does not cause her moral qualms about lying when necessary, whether to soothe a doctor who fears she's sinned or give hope to a dying chef who expects his former restaurant patrons to visit en masse. Her favorite patients are an elderly, deeply lonely librarian and a 15-year-old boy who's survived a catastrophic accident physically shattered but with his gentle magnetism intact. Less appealing characters, like a lawyer who is rude to the staff, also receive her understanding. Each has a story. Often the stories lead the chaplain to stories from her own past. A subtle plot takes shape almost between the lines concerning the chaplain's unresolved relationship with Plummy, a neuroscientist 10 years her junior now living in Germany, who's fascinated by out-of-body experiences, what he calls oobs; confronted during her shift with two possible oobs, the chaplain is forced to reexamine the idea of soul yet again but also to reconsider her relationship with Plummy. Those oob walks of the title may stretch credibility, but Cooney does a remarkable job structuring a novel of vignettes and stories within stories into a cohesive whole. Equally remarkable is her portrait of the chaplain as a personification of the potential for human goodness. Though introspective, the narrator is never self-absorbed. Her voice, funny and direct, keeps sentimentality at bay. The perfect novel to combat pandemic angst. Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.