Horror Review: The Sleepwalker (Fear Street #6) by R. L. Stine (1990, Pocket Books)

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I'll be honest, the only reason I picked up The Sleepwalker was to get it out of the way. Compared to the other Fear Street books in my gigantic reading stack, this one looked so...pedestrian. Not 'boring' as such, but the write-up on the back does this one no favors. A girl's sleepwalking...gosh, what a nightmare. It's also an early Fear Street entry, and after having been somewhat disappointed by The Overnight, I figured I'd slog through this one so I could move on to something hopefully better. They always say 'never judge a book by its cover', and I'm sure my low expectations going in played a factor, but I'll be damned if The Sleepwalker hasn't become one of my favorite entries in the Fear Street cannon yet, and if any one of these that I've read so far deserves to become its own 90-minute low-budget movie, it's this one.

It's summer, and Mayra's found what sounds like the ideal job for a teen in 1990: some in-home care for the aging Mrs. Cottler. In exchange for her time reading Dickens, accompanying her on walks, and preparing simple lunches, Cottler's willing to pay $5 an hour. Doesn't sound like much, but to put this in perspective the minimum wage in the US was $3.80 an hour, so Mayra's making out like a bandit doing easy work while the rest of her friends slave over the fry cooker or put up with the public in some other retail position for less money. And that money's a good thing: Mayra's mom's a single woman trying to raise her two daughters while working as many shifts as she can at the hospital. Since five bucks an hour is gravy, Mayra considers herself lucky, especially since there's some history between her mother and the old recluse.

There's something off about Mrs. Cottler. She hasn't quite been the same since her son drowned so many years ago in the lake near her home. Her cat, Hazel, is downright weird, following Mayra around and hissing at her if she goes somewhere she shouldn't. And her house is filled with all manner of odd knickknacks you wouldn't expect to find in the home of a normal old woman. The collection of long, black candles creeps Mayra out the most though. They're the sort of thing only a witch would keep in her home.

Mayra's initially not to keen to dwell on such things though. After all, her boyfriend Walker will be back from his vacation before too long, and given that her ex-boyfriend Link has been hanging around more than usual, that will be a welcome treat. Unlike Link, Walker's more quiet and reserved, except when he's performing his magic tricks. Walker's dream is to be the next David Copperfield, performing his act on stage, wowing a live audience. Until he gets there, though, he's got Mayra to practice his card tricks and sleight-of-hand on, and she couldn't be happier.

Shortly after taking the job with Mrs. Cottler, things start to go downhill. After an explosive argument with her next-door neighbor over the placement of a peach tree, Mayra sees Cottler in a trance, holding the man's handkerchief. The next day, the paramedics arrive to carry the man away--he's fallen and broken a hip. "I warned him something bad would happen," Cottler tsks-tsks as the stretcher is wheeled away.

Holy crap, Mrs. Cottler's a witch!

But that's the least of Mayra's worries. Now she's not sleeping, and when she does, she goes walking after dark. The first incident saw her awaken in her front yard. But every time she sleepwalks, she winds up further and further away from home. At one point, she wanders all the way down to the lake where Mrs. Cottler's son drowned, and it's only luck a passing fisherman manages to yank her to safety.

Why is Mayra sleepwalking, and more to the point, is there any way to stop her before something bad happens?

Now this was a freakin' good visit to Fear Street. It's more suspense than horror, but it has a phenomenal twist at the end, and unlike some times when Stine leaves some plot thread dangling, the question which remains unanswered at the end of this one is one I'm perfectly willing to leave without knowing. For some reason, it just works here, and damn it, I loved it even if it is cheesy. Unlike the wacky ending of The Wrong Number which involves a lunatic with a chainsaw, The Sleepwalker's is simply insidious. The revelation of what's behind Mayra's odd behavior comes out of left field, and even if it's technically inaccurate, I'm willing to suspend disbelief enough for the purposes of the story because Stine both pulled the rug over my eyes and didn't cheat to do it. There are clues, but if I missed them on the first go-round, it's likely you will too.

So while I started this one expecting to be bored out of my mind (and granted, it does take a few chapters for the real action to hit), I ended it with a new-found respect for Stine. When he's good, he's really, really good, and in my opinion, The Sleepwalker is R. L. Stine on point. Seriously, this one would have played right at home on a TV show like Are You Afraid of the Dark?, and it's a shame this one languishes in relative obscurity. It's not the best story ever, but for Fear Street, it's just perfect.

Four-and-a-half nightmares out of five.

Crossover Moment:

Man, Suki Thomas really, uh, gets around, doesn't she? Just three books ago in The Overnight our dear platinum-haired punk was dating Gary. Now it looks like she's all done with him, as she's putting the moves on Walker at the pizza place. Really, Suki, could you be a bigger slut? Mayra wasn't kidding when she called you "probably the trashiest girl at school". D-R-A-M-A!!