Unleashing My Inner Teenager

The Fog
Caroline B. Cooney
1989, Scholastic

You can get lost in the fog.
In the fog things can happen that no one sees.

Characters

• Christina Romney — Our Fearless Heroine; a 13-year-old island girl starting junior high on the mainland
• Anya Rothrock — island girl; senior in high school; dating Blake
• Benjamin “Benj” Jaye — island boy; in high school
• Michael Jaye — Benj’s younger brother; in junior high
• Dolly Jaye — Benj and Michael’s younger sister; Christina’s BFF
• Jonah Bergeron — Christina’s classmate; has a crush on Christina
• Blake Lathem — Anya’s boyfriend
• Arnold Shevvington — principal of mainland school; runs Schooner Inne with Mrs. Shevvington
• Candy Shevvington — English teacher at mainland school
• Miss Schuyler — math teacher

Damn, there are a lot of characters in this book. And a lot of stuff going on in only 218 pages. A lot of creepy stuff. I’m taking Alana’s advice and breaking the recap up into parts, so as not to overwhelm you fine people with a 20,000-word post. A word of caution: I really got into this book, to an almost embarrassing degree. I swear, Caroline B. Cooney has cast some sort of voodoo spell on me, because I cannot get enough of her lately. Embarrassing much?

Alright, on with Part I of the recap.

It’s the last week before school starts, and OFH Christina Romney is packing up. Christina lives on Burning Fog Isle, “Maine’s most famous, most beautiful island.” Burning Fog is a totes fictonal island, of course; I guess Ms. Cooney thought the name sounded more poetic than some of Maine’s real islands, like Cow Island, Squirrel Island, and (my personal favorite) Smuttynose Island. Only 300 people live on Burning Fog Isle year-round, so once the young’uns finish sixth grade, they get shipped off to the mainland for junior and senior high. We learn that Christina has tri-colored hair: dark brown streaked with silver and gold. Hmm…sounds like another young fictional heroine I know.

Going to the mainland with Christina are two brothers, Benjamin and Michael Jaye (a sophomore and a freshman respectively), and Anya Rothrock, who will be a senior. The kids will be boarding at Schooner Inne, a former sea captain’s house that has been converted into a bed and breakfast and is now owned by the high school principal Mr. Shevvington and his wife. Anya is all fidgety and weird, talking about how the sea captain’s wife killed herself. Christina’s just worried that she won’t fit in, because she’s heard that mainland kids tend to be cruel to the island kids. OK, if we delete the words “mainland” and “island” from that sentence, it would still be totally true. Teenagers are evil, yo.

Before the kids leave for the mainland, they decide to buy posters from the souvenir shop, which is run by a really creepy old woman. Creepy Old Woman hands a poster tube to Anya, saying it’s the perfect poster for her. DON’T TAKE THE POSTER, ANYA. For god’s sake, don’t these kids ever read YA horror? To be fair, Anya and Christina both try to resist the poster, but COW insists. Safely away from COW, Christina unveils the poster — it’s of “the sea at its cruelest.” This book may be called The Fog (or just plain Fog, depending on which version you have), but it’s really more The Sea. Or, to be more precise, The Sea Craves Human Sacrifices and Will Hunt You Down and Kill You in Your Sleep. This is why I’ve always preferred the Pacific to the Atlantic, my friends. There are “blurry figures” beneath the water’s surface in the poster, which Anya claims are “the bodies of the drowned,” and their fingers are “scrabbling at the surface.” Cree. Pee. Christina throws the poster to the ground (good call!) but then picks it up again (bad call!).

The fog is thick on the day the kids leave. We learn why Burning Fog Isle got its name: apparently a “trick of the atmosphere” (thanks for the super-detailed scientific explanation, Ms. Cooney) occasionally causes the sun shining through the fog to look like fire. As the kids are boarding Frankie’s boat to the mainland, Dolly Jaye (Benj and Michael’s little sis, and Christina’s BFF) cries at the unfairness of it all. Dolly, I have the wisdom of having read this book, so I feel secure in saying this: consider yourself lucky. We’re treated to an amusing little back story: when Dolly was only four weeks old, Mrs. Jaye let the island’s Christmas pageant use her (Dolly) as Baby Jesus, where “a ten-year-old Mary dropped Dolly headfirst into the manger.” Luckily, Dolly suffered no ill effects. I love this part, because it’s totally the kind of random bit of trivia that a small community like Burning Fog Isle would use in defining one of its own. Dolly gives Christina a package of blank cassette tapes for Christina to use as an audio diary - Dolly will be doing the same on her end, and the friends will exchange their tapes via Frankie. These days the girls would keep in touch via podcast, or maybe Facebook (status: Christina Romney is trying to avoid being attacked by an anthropomorphic sea!). While boarding, Anya accidentally knocks into Christina, causing the package of tapes to fall overboard into the water. Foreshadowing FTW!

On the mainland, we are introduced from afar to Schooner Inne, perched atop Candle Cove. Christina notes that “tide at Candle Cove was twenty-eight feet.” Sweet Baby Jesus headfirst into a manger! My primary ocean-living experience was when I lived on a tiny island in the middle of the Pacific, where the highest point on the island is about 20 feet. I can’t imagine a 28-foot high tide. I did some Googling and learned that the highest tides on Earth are in Nova Scotia’s Minas Basin, where the high tides can reach up to 52 feet. I am in love with the ocean, and like any sane person who loves the ocean and has
spent much time in and around it, I am also terrified of it. I would literally shit myself lifeless if confronted with a 52-foot high tide. Note to self: Avoid Minas Basin AT ALL COSTS.

Where was I? Oh yeah…Schooner Inne. That superfluous “e” is killing me, by the way. Christina thinks that “nobody in his right mind would build on Candle Cove.” Sounds like a lovely spot for a B&B business, eh? What does their brochure say? Come get swept away at Schooner Inne. No, we mean that literally. You will be sucked into the Atlantic and die. Ask us about our honeymoon specials!

Just as the kids are getting tired of waiting around to be picked up, Mrs. Shevvington arrives. This is where the creepy tinkly-piano music would pick up, were this a movie. Mrs. Shevvington is described as “a large thick post with hair on top.” Say what you will about Caroline B. Cooney, but she can sure as hell paint a picture in very few words. Ugly, shapeless Mrs. Shevvington starts in immediately with her house rules, such as no bickering, no dillydallying, and no “sloppy thinking or acting.” Gee, I wonder why Mr. and Mrs. Shevvington are childless? She’s irritated at the amount of luggage that the kids have brought with them, claiming that she doesn’t know where she’ll store their “old tattered suitcases.” What, so they should have packed nine months worth of clothes and belongings into one suitcase each? Bitch. Christina’s not having it. She points out that the Shevvingtons own an inn(e), for fuck’s sake, and therefore should have plenty of storage space. Christina is awesome, and only grows awesomer as the book goes on.

Mrs. Shevvington makes the kids walk up a steep, unterraced hill (uncreatively called Breakneck Hill) with their luggage. Again…bitch. Michael points out a man in a brown wet suit walking in the mud by the channel. They all pause to watch Brown Wet Suit as the tide starts creeping in. Benj runs to the cliff edge and yells at BWS to get the hell away from the water. As the tide comes rushing into the cove, BWS starts climbing a ladder on the cliffside, and he just barely beats the tide to the top. By the way, BWS will pop up several times throughout the book, so don’t think you’ve seen the last of this dumbass.

At the inn(e), Christina is entranced by the cupola. She’s disappointed to learn from Mrs. Shevvington that the cupola has no floor and is forbidden to the kids. Mrs. Shevvington gives the kids a pseudo-tour of the inn(e), which basically consists of her telling them how expensive and historic everything is, and how the kids aren’t allowed to go in most of the rooms because they’re for paying guests only. I get the impression that Mrs. Shevvington hates children. I don’t like children, either, but then again I don’t teach at a school or let children board in my house. I do what normal people who don’t care for children do: avoid them at all costs. Not good old Mrs. S., though. I mean, I know she and her husband have ulterior motives (SPOILER ALERT), but maybe they’d just be happier if they surrounded themselves with adults instead.

The kids are allowed the use of an ugly kitchen and a very sad, dark little room with a tiny black-and-white TV and “a worn stack of last year’s magazines.” Heh. Even my doctors’ offices have magazines from the current year. Christina, who “ha[s] never made a habit of staying silent,” is poised to go the fuck off on Mrs. Shevvington, when suddenly Mr. Shevvington enters the room. He’s handsome and well-dressed, and he smiles at all of the kids and condescends about what good little children they are. He says to his wife, “Candy, we’re going to enjoy Christina, aren’t we?” OK, this would be my cue to get the hell out, because adults only say that when they’re planning to cook and eat children. Or, even worse, try to indoctrinate them into a fundamentalist religious sect.

Mr. Shevvington tells Anya that he and the Mrs. expect great things from Anya this year, and Anya says emotionally, “I’ll do anything you say.” GAAAHHH CREEPY TO THE MAX. Christina’s not impressed. She may be the first protagonist to truly deserve the previously-only-meant-ironically moniker of “Our Fearless Heroine.” Christina likens Anya to “a puppy in a litter, wagging a tail for [Mr. Shevvington].”

The kids’ bedrooms are on the third floor. Do I even have to tell you that they’re crappy? Benj and Michael don’t care, because they’re boys. Anya’s just relieved that the rooms aren’t as horrible as the bedroom she had last year when boarding on the mainland. Christina basically thinks the rooms are equivalent to child abuse. Wait until you experience the wonders of the college dorm room, Chris. The girls hear the tide, and Anya says that it sounds like “somebody puffing out birthday candles.” An interesting simile. They look out the window and see Brown Wet Suit standing on the opposite cliff of the cove. BWS waves at them. Anya points out a package in the water, and says to Christina that it’s her present from Dolly: “The ocean knows where you are. It followed us here.” Ms. Cooney makes a point of telling us that Anya “laughed madly,” but I could have figured out that part on my own. Anya has lost her goddamn mind, yo.

Lunch is red flannel hash with poached eggs. What the hell? I am a Southern girl and know not of these strange Yankee foods. Hash to us is either hash browns or, in some Southern states, barbecue pork over rice. So I Googled “red flannel hash,” and it doesn’t sound too horrible, except for the corned beef. I must say, though, that “red flannel hash” would be a good name for a variety of pot grown in Seattle. Anyway, where was I? Christina can’t eat the hash and eggs without wanting to vomit, and she can’t drink the whole milk that she’s served either. I’m with you, sister. Like me, Christina drinks only skim milk. She asks Mrs. Shevvington if she can make a sandwich instead, and Mrs. Shevvington shoots her down. Christina presses on, saying that she doesn’t like “corned beef and poached eggs.” I think I would get along well with Christina. We could eat peanut butter sandwiches and drink skim milk, and then push Mrs. Shevvington off a cliff. Mrs. Shevvington tells Christina that, as a poor uncultured island girl, one of her tasks on the mainland is to “learn civilized behavior.” If I were Christina, I would just eat the damn hash and eggs, and then projectile vomit all over Mrs. Shevvington. But then, I’m passive-aggressive like that.

That afternoon is spent unpacking. Anya is very neat and organized. Christina doesn’t see the point in being neat. Another reason why Christina and I are obviously soulmates. Anya notices that the poster of the sea is up on the wall, but neither she nor Christina put it there. Cue the tinkly-piano music o’ doom! Anya says she can hear “them” calling to her. “They” are obviously the poor drowned people that Anya saw in the poster. Anya goes into a weird trance, reaching for the ceiling, talking about fingers. Fortunately the weirdness is broken when Benj and Michael come running into the girls’ room and pounce on them. No, there’s no hot teenage foursome, just some pillow-fighting and wrestling.

That night, Anya and Christina are awakened by the tide rushing in. It starts with a strange slushing noise, then increases to a cacophony of furious sounds. After it quiets, Anya says that now “you can hear the voices of the drowned.” Anya needs some serious medication. She then tells Christina,

The sea keeps count. The sea is a mathematician. The sea wants one of us.

The idea of the sea as a mathematician cracks my shit up. Mathematicians are, like, the least scary people in the world. Anya’s basically saying that the sea is logical and geeky and maybe a bit obsessed with Hodge cycles, and it probably likes to tell really lame jokes about logs and adders. In short, the sea is my dad.

And with that bit of lunacy from Anya, I shall conclude Part I of my recap. We will open Part II with the kids’ first day of school on the mainland.