BLACKBERRIES IN THE DARK By Mavis Jukes. Illustrated by Thomas B. Allen. Unpaged. New York: Alfred A. Knopf. $10.95 (Ages 8 to 12) IN a complicated world where children often land at the bottom of the heap it is comforting to find a book about a child who participates in decisions and who makes crucial connections about events and emotions. ''Blackberries in the Dark,'' by Mavis Jukes, a Newbery Honor Book author, while sometimes overly subtle and flat, deals with some important issues, among them loss, loneliness and the need for tradition.
Nine-year-old Austin and his grandmother, alone together for part of a summer after the death of the boy's grandfather, make tentative attempts to understand their separate losses. Not only must they deal with the absence of grandfather, they must deal with each other. Initially Austin is bewildered and blunt. When a family friend offers to take him fly-fishing he declines: ''I've never fished with anybody but Grandpa.'' There is a directness in his answer that is true to childhood, a poignancy in how respectfully separate Austin and his grandmother are. She does not make indulgent overtures to him; he does not move in to accommodate her needs. The grandmother, however, is honest. Early on she refers to grandfather as having ''died.'' When Austin asks her about his grandfather's fishing gear she does not hide her pain. ''I haven't had the heart to go through the barn. Everything's in there, just like it was.'' She thus allows Austin the freedom and privacy to find his own grief.
Austin has solid ties and memories connecting him with his grandfather; a memorable evening when they fished and picked blackberries in the dark for a pie eaten in the middle of the night; a fishing knife of his grandfather's left in the corner cupboard - Austin sees his own reflection in the blade. Perhaps most touching is a moment in the barn, clearly the world of his grandfather, when Austin sees ''a line of photographs stapled to the wall, all dusty and with curled edges - and all of Austin.'' How many of us are given the gift of a look at ourselves through the eyes and heart of someone who loves us?
Austin's grandmother has provided another link to the past. When she shows Austin an antique doll, ''passed from mother to daughter in my family for generations,'' he is at first not interested. His grandmother explains, ''I didn't have a little girl to give it to - I had your father. And he had you.'' The string of coral beads around the doll's neck breaks and Austin's grandmother suggests he restring them. He gently refuses: ''I'm not good at threading needles, Gram.'' But Austin is wrong. He has already begun to thread a past life with his grandfather together with a future, this future that includes the grandmother he is just beginning to know. With her help he is able to confront and consider the questions - unspoken yet evident between the lines of this story - What could I have done? Could things have been different if I had known my grandfather was dying? How could I have known? With honesty and grace Austin's grandmother frees him - frees them both. '' 'Nobody knew, Austin.' She closed her eyes and shook her head. 'Nobody knew that would be the last summer we'd all have together.' ''
With this Austin and his grandmother can come full circle, and a bit farther. Encouraged to continue the tradition of the blackberrying, Austin goes to the fishing stream. But he is not alone. His grandmother appears wearing his grandfather's fishing clothes and New York Yankees cap, carrying his fishing gear. Together they explore the world that traditionally belonged to Austin and his grandfather. They discover the delicate hand-tied flies grandfather made (''I always said Grandpa would have made a good seamstress,'' Austin's grandmother tells him). They decide to stay and fish even though it will be dark soon, and Austin suggests they eat the blackberries for supper. '' 'Good idea,' said his grandmother. 'Blackberries in the dark! It's a family tradition.' '' They catch their first fish together, then throw it back for good luck as grandfather would have done. It is Austin who finally says the words that allow them to move on. ''Grandpa would like us doing this - wouldn't he.'' It is not a question, it is a statement. In a touching, understated last scene Austin makes a choice that takes his relationship with his grandmother beyond the present. He chooses the doll - to restring the coral beads, something his grandfather might have done. It is a signal to his grandmother that not only are the old traditions intact, but there are new ones as well.
The illustrations by Thomas B. Allen, often vague and unfinished in the beginning - perhaps intentionally so - evoke the feeling of a beloved farm. Though it may distress some readers that the grandmother, in her appearance at the stream, seems foolish rather than strong, it may be that she is secure enough not to care. One luminous picture (Austin fishing in the middle of the stream, the grandmother wearing the grandfather's wading boots and a dress) communicates an essential ingredient of their experience and this story - human relations go beyond roles.