Set in a fictional prairie town (in what could be Canada or the U.S.), Alberta author David A. Poulsen’s Numbers finds Andy “Alamo” Crockett trying to figure out whether his Grade 10 Social Studies teacher, Mr Retzlaff (“Mr R”), is good or evil.

Alamo has been told by his drunkard uncle that Mr. R is a Holocaust denier, but Alamo doesn’t even know what the Holocaust was. And Mr R is just so cool: he hangs with Alamo’s clique of outsider friends at the school dance; he always remembers everyone’s name; he engages his students, challenging them to never accept the status quo.

Anti-Semitism is the central issue here, but Poulsen elevates Numbers above the status of “issue book” through his funny and sympathetic depiction of contemporary teenage life. There is no shying away from realities. Alamo swears, he drinks booze at parties (other kids smoke pot), he has sex – but all this is just treated as part of the normal fabric of his life. He has a solid home life and hardworking parents (though that uncle is a bit of a blight). He is torn between two girls – one manipulative, one good. He gets decent grades and is a capable athlete on the wrestling team. Most importantly, he is probably more intelligent than he gives himself credit for.

This is significant, because where the book really shines is in Poulsen’s depiction of Alamo’s slow realization that he can, and should, think for himself. What gives the book its engrossing, ironic tension is that this spark is provided by the manipulative Mr. R, who is all the while feeding him pernicious anti-Semitic ideas. By the end, Alamo’s entire world turns on a single decision: to participate or not in an abominable act.

Numbers is a deeply moving, nuanced, and fascinating depiction of how confusion and vulnerability can sometimes cause damages that can never be fully repaired.