The Bookworm: The Fire Game and Ski Weekend

The Fire Game by R.L. Stine. 145 pages. Pocket Books. March 1991.

Ski Weekend by R.L. Stine. 165 pages. Pocket Books. January 1991.

Even Max was wearing swimming trunks, his pudgy body overlapping the waistband only slightly. [The Fire Game, page 24.]

First of all, I want to say it was a great pleasure to read mindlessness young adult fiction after enduring 700 pages of shameless mass murder. With Evans’ Third Reich trilogy tucked away on my shelf, I once again found myself in good ol’ Shadyside and in the company of its airheaded teens — some of which are blossoming pyromaniacs. (Who would have ever guessed?)

Before writing about The Fire Game and Ski Weekend, I should explain the opening quote. Do not ask me why, but it was the only thing I remembered from the Fear Street series. Much like “Why, Pt. 2,” I could not recall which book it appeared in but remembered a character with a little fat hanging over his waistline. Most likely, it was memorable because I was always a pudgy kid and probably blushed like hell when I read it; Stein could have been describing me. It is a great description, but I no doubt thought it unflattering and rude.

In The Fire Game, Jill and her friends (including Max and his chubby midsection) become enamored with fire after accidentally setting a wastebasket alight in the school library. Their interest is only a passing joke until the mysterious Gabe moves to Shadyside from “the city” and takes the fire game to the next level. As the back cover says, “When one of their fires ends in murder, the game ends — and the real terror beings.” A classic, Fear Street whodunit unfolds and I was left wondering, though correctly suspicious, until the last few chapters.

While on a Wikipedia adventure, I stumbled on the page for “Thriller (genre).” Check out the picture at the top and read the caption. That, my friends, is a Fear Street whodunit to a tee: the protagonist is always unaware and unsuspecting of the antagonist’s true colors. When the culprit is at-large, and all the evidence points to one person, who pleads their innocence, it usually turns out to be the person you least suspect. He or she has been planning things all along, deflecting suspicion and planting evidence to implicate others. Both The Fire Game and Ski Weekend are classic examples of it.

The Fire Game is set in the spring — probably late-April or early-May. Flowers are blooming and the gang takes a break from setting fires to picnic at a lake and enjoy a cabin owned by one of the characters’ parents. Though this winter has been surprisingly balmy, The Fire Game got me jonesing for spring greenery and camping.

Ski Weekend, as the title suggest, brought be back to good ol’ winter — the kind of winter I want and expect. Returning from a ski weekend — which is already a strike against the book since it does not take place during the eponymous ski weekend — Ariel, Doug, Shannon, and Red, a guy they met at the ski lodge and are giving a ride (you know where this is going right away), are stuck in a massive snow storm and need to wait it out at the home of perfect strangers. Needless to say, they are not Larry and Balki. After the first night the phones are dead, Doug’s car somehow ends up at the bottom of a ravine, and another storm bares down on them as their gun crazed host becomes drunk and combative. Then, as the back of the book says, “a shot is fired and the real terror begins…” (Where have I heard that before?)

Ski Weekend is plausible in the fact that one could find himself snowbound with welcoming but belligerent strangers, but the premise begins to unravel as the plot evolves. Too much convenient coincidence becomes involved for it to be believable. Should I expect anything else? However, I was once again kept wondering until the final few chapters. Nothing made sense and I eagerly waited for the pieces of Ski Weekend’s puzzle to come together.

Along with the textual improbabilities, the cover is very deceiving. First of all, the cover art features skis and ski boots. Neither are mentioned or used in the story. Skiing time is over from the very beginning. Personally, I find the masked man outside the window — who makes me think of the IRA — very creepy. However, in the story he turns out to be one of the characters who is inside and looking out on the cover. (Which opens a totally different can of worms.) How can he be inside and outside at the same time?

Ski Weekend is unique in the sense that, like Lights Out, it does not take place in Shadyside. Ariel, the main character, lives on Fear Street so the connection is maintained. The book also offers a hint regarding the geographic location of Shadyside. One of the characters notices the Jeep owned by their host has license plates from Alabama, not Vermont. I assumed their ski weekend took place in Vermont, and the gang stopped about an hour into their five to six hour trip home, so I think it is safe to say Shadyside could be located somewhere in the northeast, perhaps upstate New York. Mentions of “the city” in The Fire Game could be vague references to New York City.

Like most of the other Fear Street books I have reread, The Fire Game and Ski Weekend both feature female protagonists. Though none of the main characters die, each book features one murder, raising the reread death toll to eight.

Overall, The Fire Game and Ski Weekend were your run of the mill Fear Street books. There was nothing special about them, so I hope the next pair I read are better.