On the Mexican Border

I’ll admit, I approached *On the Mexican Border* with skepticism—religious fiction for kids can often feel like a sermon in sheep’s clothing. But within minutes, Aimee Lilly’s narration had me hooked, her pacing as brisk as the Rio Grande’s current. She nails the Gang’s dynamic, especially the wisecracking Poetry (whose terrible puns land better in her delivery than they have any right to) and the earnest Dragonfly, whose wide-eyed wonder she conveys without a trace of condescension. The real surprise, though, is how Hutchens uses the border setting to stretch his characters. The tent revival scene, where the gang encounters a boy evangelist, could’ve been cloying, but Lilly’s restrained performance—softening her voice just enough to suggest awe—makes it feel genuine. Even the criminal chase through the grapefruit grove, a plotline that risks veering into slapstick, stays grounded thanks to her ability to sell the stakes. That said, the audiobook isn’t without flaws. The abrupt shifts between high-stakes action and reflective moments can feel whiplash-inducing, a pacing issue the print version might mask better. And while Lilly’s character voices are strong, her Mexican accent for a minor character borders on stereotypical—a misstep that stands out in an otherwise polished performance. Still, the production’s strengths outweigh these quibbles. The lack of background music or effects might disappoint listeners accustomed to lavish audio dramas, but it forces you to lean into Hutchens’ vivid descriptions, like the ‘sizzling’ heat of the border or the ‘tinny’ twang of a revival hymn. For families who want adventure with substance (and a side of grapefruit-related chaos), this is a gem. Just be prepared to explain to your kids why *no*, they can’t chase criminals through the produce aisle.