I have a NOOK. I really like it, and use it a lot. The other day when I was NOOK book shopping for myself, I came upon the e-Book, "Mile 81" by Mr. King. It only cost $2.99, so I bought it, downloaded it, and soon discovered that it really should have been called an e-Short Story. It's only 36 or 37 pages long with really big print. The book claims to be 52 pages long, but that includes a half dozen introductory pages, and a 7 or 8 page preview of his newest novel at the end.
SPOILER WARNING: If you think you might read "Mile 81," then read no farther. I'm about to give the plot away. O.K. The title of this work refers to an abandoned rest stop near the Mile 81 milepost on I-95 in Maine. A 10 year old boy named Pete, left alone to play by his older brother, decides to go explore it, because he has heard it is a place the big kids hang out and do things. He bikes off on this adventure carrying among other things some Oreos and a heavy duty magnifying glass, with which he enjoys setting things on fire. On his way to the rest stop, Pete finds half a bottle of vodka. Gaining access to the interior of the place, he finds drug paraphernalia, dirty mattresses used for you know what, and a poster of Justin Beiber that has been serving as a dartboard. Sadly, the boy is unimpressed by this stuff. Actually, I was unimpressed, too. So, he takes three hits on the vodka bottle, becomes drunk and falls asleep. I probably should have done the same thing.
Outside, a non-descript, filthy muddy station wagon, windows so foul you can't see inside, crashes through the orange cones blocking the entrance and stops in front of the rest stop. Suffice it to say that it is a person-eating car. It eats in a very short time, a good samaritan, a religious fanatic, a grossly overweight lesbian, a suburban mom and dad, and a cop. Left alive are the mom and dad's kids, a three year-old boy named Blakie and a six year-old girl named Rachel, who are relatively traumatized. Actually they're in pretty darn good shape for the bloodshed they've just witnessed. Inside the rest stop, our hungover, ten year-old hero wakes up and hears a strange noise. He comes out, witnesses a bit of the cop being eaten, and immediately surmises that this car thing is from outer space. You gotta hand it to him. He also knows how to get rid of it. He burns its rear end with his super magnifier, and whoosh, the car monster flies off, cursing in alienese, to outer space. Is Pete thrilled that he has saved many earthlings from being eaten up? A little. But he's more worried that his parents will smell the vodka on his breath, so in the story's concluding moment he bends down to little Rachel, who should be curled up in the fetal position in deep shock because she had witnessed her parents getting devoured, and breathes in her face and asks if she smells anything. Somehow wise beyond her years, she "actually smiled," and told him, "You'll be okay. . .maybe get some mints or something before you go home." "I was thinking Teaberry Gum," Pete said. "Yeah," Rachel said. "That'll work." These are the final words of the story. Talk about one cold little tyke.
Having just reread my plot summary, I think that maybe my retelling makes it sound better than it is. No, it doesn't. It's bad. It's kind of dumb, and like so much recent Stephen King, it's derivative. Let's count the previous King elements: 1. brave little boy on an expedition ("The Body aka "Stand by Me), kids burning things up (FIRESTARTER), killer car (Christine), alien thing (THE TOMMYKNOCKERS), cute little kids in jeopardy (THE SHINING and many more) plus a liberal dose of pop culture like Justin Beiber and Teaberry Gum. I tried to find reason behind the story, which read like one of the spooky spoofs that King created in his pre-Graphic novel "Creep Show." I tried to figure out a thematic plan for the people devoured by the car and could find none, and I was sorely disappointed because. . .
. . .a few years back Stephen King was my #1 modern writing hero. I loved the stories he told, the depth of his description, his great true-to-the ear dialogue, and the sense of place he gave to his part of the world, Maine 'SALEM'S LOT is my all time favorite horror novel. I think that at the least THE SHINING and "The Body" from DIFFERENT SEASONS transcend the horror genre into the realm of "serious literature," whatever that may be.
Despite my sadness, I await Christmas morning with great excitement because I hope to receive King's new novel, "11/22/63," which tells the story of a man from our time, who travels back to 1963 to prevent the assassination of JFK. I've heard good things about it. Let me repeat that I can't wait for this book, and I have dropped enough hints to dent the floor, so I'm pretty sure it will be lurking under the tree. I want very much to love it, to be whisked back to the days when everything that Stephen King, or Richard Bachman for that matter, wrote pleased me thoroughly in that can't-put-this-book-down way that great reads can provide. Last year, I got his novella collection FULL DARK, NO STARS and ended up skimming most of it, it was so cheerless, dark, and uninterestingly ironic.
I always give Stephen King another chance. . .and always will, I think. I look forward to Christmas morning and my new King novel, unless, of course, Santa gets eaten by that crazy flying alien station wagon. Now, that sounds like a good idea for a story.
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