To no one's surprise, I don't do beaches. It's not the water - I love water, as well as the concept of water. It is a necessary part of living, so I like water in that sense. And a peaceful wave crashing on sand in the middle of the night is a wonderful thing. I would prefer to live near the water. Despite that, I don't do beaches. I don't do bikinis. I don't do boys flexing at everyone around them. I don't do the sun. I don't do lifeguards. I don't do sunbathing. My ideal waterline situation involves overcast weather in serenity or a busy port with tourist traps. This is no middle ground.
However, it's time to pack that tote bag with a sarang, pop on some sunglasses, and strap on sandals because R. L. Stine is taking us to the beach - and all I can sea is blood in the water.
Our protagonist, Adam, crashes into waves on what Stine calls a "scooter." I thought they were called "Ski-Doos." My partner told me that they're called "Sea-Doos" or "Waverunners," the generic term is "jetski," and he'd never heard anyone refer to them as "scooters." Even that delineation is a matter of some debate, mostly whether or not one stands up or sits down on the watercraft. For this review, I'm going to stick with "jetski," but keep in mind that Stine calls them scooters like they're Italian vehicles.
Going back to Adam, he's on a jetski with his girlfriend, the ludicrously named Mitzi. She falls off the jetski pretty quickly and gets cut. Then Adam falls off the jetski and it cuts his leg. They're just floating in their own blood and he's trying to save his girlfriend, but it's no use - the waves take them.
Adam jolts awake - it was all a dream. Sort of. His roommate, Ian, suggests he switches psychiatrists. Adam has been seeing a TV psychiatrist named Dr. Thrall since the accident a year before and he is still experiencing nightmares and general jump-scare-related hallucinations. What? You're telling me that a talk show doctor is not the most scrupulous mental health care professional? The devil you say!
Still, Adam thinks his legs are suddenly gone. It's another hallucination, of course, and he sees Dr. Thrall. To my surprise, the doctor is not an Orc Shaman from Orgrimmar. He's a doctor who says weird things like the following:
"You have to listen to your subconscious mind." He tapped his fingers on the desk and glanced at me sharply. "It may be trying to tell you something. I think there's something inside your brain struggling to get out."
I thought Freudian psychiatry was dismissed, but here we are. The Id has something to say, I guess. Adam, drop this guy, but right now, it's time for work.
We meet Leslie, the girl that Adam is currently courting, to use a parlance contemporary to Freud, since that outdated thinking is present in the novel. And speaking of outdated thinking, we also meet the other lifeguard, Sean.
End of part one. Yes. You heard me. End of part one on page twenty. And we're switching points-0f-view!
We switch to Sean, who also sucks, but in a different way. Adam is boring and his only personality trait is that he sees his dead girlfriend everywhere. Sean is one cashier telling him that he has to wear his mask away from being a mass shooter. His favorite hobby is assaulting the girls on the beach, particularly a girl named Alyce.
"Let go of me, Sean! You really are an animal."
"You love it!" I insisted. I turned her around and kissed her on the mouth. "You know you love it."
"I do not love it!" she snarled. She shoved me away and scowled at me.
I reached for her, but she hopped backward. "Oh, you want me to chase you?" I asked.