Jenny Jeffers had a rough time last autumn, but even though the creep stalking her and other babysitters in town is dead, Jenny can't get beyond the trauma of the experience. Every night, it's the same dream: she's at the abandoned rock quarry where her nemesis met his brutal end, but he's still there, still alive, dragging himself out of the pit, assuring her that he's on his way as he crawls towards her like a zombie, getting closer and closer until she wakes up screaming.
"Jenny, I'm back."
Jenny's tried to put the past behind her. Donny and his family moved out of town. She broke up with Chuck (who didn't take the news very well), but her sleepless nights leave her unable to hold down a steady job. She spends her days talking with her psychiatrist, and hanging out with her friends Claire and Rick when they're on break at the mall.
"Are you all alone, Babes?"
Money's still tight, and that's why Jenny's taking a new babysitting job. It's nothing like the Hagans'--the Wexners live only a few blocks from her house, and their son Eli is ten years old so he wouldn't require as much attention as Donny did. Two days and two nights a week at $5 an hour (over $9 an hour in today's money) is simply too good to pass up.
"Jenny, it's me.
Until the phone rings. It's the same voice. The same words.
The same threats.
"Company's coming."
Jenny's told any number of people about her experiences last year, but only her mom, the police, and Chuck know the words the stalker rasped to her over the phone. Is one of them playing a cruel joke? Or are her dreams premonitions of a would-be killer returned from the grave?
* * * * *
So I have to give Stine props right off the bat for having imagination enough to even conceive of a sequel to The Babysitter. I know he gets a bad rap for churning out books the way Frito Lay churns out delicious Spicy Nacho Doritos (they're both roughly equal in nutritional values to boot), but if nothing else, seeing the existence of not just The Babysitter II, but also The Babysitter III and The Babysitter IV piqued my curiosity enough that I had to dive right in.
Stine opens the book with Jenny recounting the details of the last book, especially the ending, to her counselor, Dr. Schindler (whom I can't picture as anyone but Liam Neeson now, so thanks a lot, Mr. Stine). It should go without saying, but if you haven't read The Babysitter, you're going to get a spoiler-riffic recap in the first five pages.
Jenny's much more of a sympathetic character this time around. Not that she was unsympathetic last time, but like I said in my review, much of the story relies on Jenny simply going about her routine and waiting for things to happen so she can react. That's not the case with this story, as either by herself or with the help of her mother, she's taking charge of her life, making decisions, and pushing herself to grow and move on. Does she still do some bone-headed things? Absolutely! This is Point Horror, you should expect it. But in between those moments of derp, Jenny evolves and learns from her mistakes. And those bone-headed things? They're mostly forgivable by her being a teenage girl, still inexperienced in life, trying new stuff, and (at the end) standing up to her antagonist.
Ah yes, the antagonist. Either I'm getting too good at getting into the author's head, or else Stine was too clever by half in this story, because I figured out who was behind the new phone calls much faster than I did in the first book. There's a hint dropped far, far too early in this one that made me say, "Yeah, that's who's doing it." Stine does his best to cover this and offer up a lot of suspects, but if you home in on the important clue, he won't shake you off. I'm not saying any more because it's a really good choice on his part, and I'm not altering my rating because less-alert readers will gloss right over the clue and be kept wondering right up until the big reveal. In fact, had I been reading this when I was younger, I'd have homed in on the wrong person and had the rug pulled out from under me later.
The Babysitter II is superior to its predecessor in almost every way. It's rare when a sequel tops the original, but I can honestly say I enjoyed this one more than the first even if I did figure out the twist before I probably should have. Eli's a delightfully demented charge, Jenny's growth as a character is believable (even if she still makes an occasionally dumb move), and Stine really ramps up the gross-out factor. While The Babysitter could have been filmed as a PG-rated teen thriller, transferring The Babysitter II to celluloid unaltered would have resulted in a PG-13 at best, and possibly an R, as Stine doesn't shy away from showing Jenny's fevered imagining of the corpse of her original stalker in graphic detail: missing eyes, gouged and gashed skin revealing the bones beneath, and veins weeping clotted blood. They might only be dreams, but still, Stine's not afraid to spray a little gore in this one.
I'm anxious to get into The Babysitter III now.
Best Scene:
Two come to mind, actually. The first is Jenny's first interaction with Cal, who is described as tough-looking and wearing an Aerosmith t-shirt. Jenny asks if he likes them, and Cal replies he doesn't, he just got it for half off because nobody else wanted it--not sure if Stine's offering up his own personal indictment of Steven Tyler et al. there, but if so, ouch. That's not the funny part though. The funny part comes a couple lines later, when Cal suggests that Jenny must not like heavy metal, to which Jenny admits that she "[U]sed to like Def Leppard a little."
Apparently Def Leppard and Aerosmith qualify as "heavy metal" in the Stine-verse. I hope Iron Maiden's feelings weren't hurt too badly.
The second is almost a throw-away gag. The aforementioned Cal asks Jenny if she wants to attend a party with him on the weekend, and deciding to take the bull by the horns, Jenny agrees. They arrive to find your basic frat party in progress: dim lighting, couples making out everywhere, rap music blaring, and the host nowhere to be found. Jenny's ready to leave as soon as she gets there, and Cal agrees. On the way out the door, though, they walk by the kitchen where they see a group of guys huddled around a keg they've acquired, trying to figure how to get the alcohol out.
I have no earthly idea why this made me laugh so hard, and it's a blink-and-you-miss-it sort of thing, but damn did I get a kick out of the image of four underage teens, trying their hardest to emulate the behavior they've no doubt seen in countless college party flicks that will elevate their cool factor to the max, but utterly mystified at the workings of the little metal drum.
I should probably get out more.