Home Alone 2

  A novelization by Todd Strasser

  Based on the screenplay by John Hughes

  For Adam, Matthew, and Maggie Brenner

  Prologue

  On a cold, dark Illinois night, a police car stopped at a railroad crossing. The icicles hanging from the flashing crossing lights broke and fell as a long freight train rumbled past. In the back of the patrol car, Marv Murchens' head throbbed where old man Marley had smacked him with his snow shovel. Next to him, his partner Harry Lyme stared angrily ahead at the slow-moving boxcars. Harry's face was swollen and bruised, and the top of his head was raw where his hair had been burned away with a blowtorch.

  All Marv could think about was that blond-haired McCallister kid grinning and waving as the cops put them into the back of the patrol car. If he ever got his hands on that kid again he'd . . . aw, what was the point? By the time they got out of prison the kid would probably be a grandfather.

  Suddenly Harry nudged Marv and revealed a lock pick he had hidden in his hand. Marv grinned. Maybe they'd get that kid after all! While the cops sat in the front seat, listening to the loud clanking of the freight train, Harry picked the car door lock and the two bad guys quietly slipped away.

  That night Kevin McCallister stayed up late cleaning his house. He picked up the toys the bad guys had slipped on, and went to get the electric barbecue starter, which was still hanging on the front door. He wished he could have seen Harry's face when he grabbed the red-hot doorknob.

  Crash! Without warning, the door burst open and there stood Harry with a nasty, toothless grin on his face. Next to him, Marv was reaching for Kevin's throat.

  "Merry Christmas, little fella!" Harry chuckled.

  "Ho! Ho! Ho!" Marv imitated an evil Santa Claus.

  Kevin didn't have time to ask how they escaped from the cops. He was still home alone and these guys wanted to carve him into little pieces. It was time to run!

  "It's all over for you, pal!" Harry shouted as he and Marv raced after him.

  "Yeah!" cried Marv. "You're all out of tricks, kid!"

  Maybe not. Kevin dashed out the back of the house and ran through the snow to the side door of the garage. He managed to get inside just an instant before Marv reached the door. Kevin grabbed the remote garage door opener and then climbed up into the small storage attic that covered the back half of the ceiling above the cars.

  Outside, Harry ran to the garage door. It was closed and the handle to open it was missing. As Harry stuck his finger in the hole where the handle used to be, Kevin pressed the automatic door opener. Suddenly the garage door began to rise. Harry tried to get his finger out, but it was stuck. The next thing he knew, he was rising along with the door!

  Crash! Marv smashed the side window with his elbow, then reached inside and opened the door. Stepping into the garage, he looked up and saw two sneakered feet hanging over the edge of the storage attic. Thinking they were Kevin's, Marv grabbed them and pulled.

  "I got him!" he shouted. But the body he pulled down wasn't Kevin's. It was a child-size mannequin. And there was a rope attached to it. Suddenly Marv heard an engine cough to life above him.

  Behind Marv, trapped between the ceiling and the raised garage door, Harry watched the blades of an old self-propelled lawnmower begin to churn as the mower rolled toward the edge of the storage attic right over his partner's head.

  "Marv!" Harry shouted. "Heads up!"

  Marv looked up just in time to see the churning blades appear above. His eyes bulged and his mouth opened to let out a scream, but it was too late! The lawnmower tipped over the edge and came crashing down!

  December 1992

  The Illinois State

  Penitentiary

  Nighttime

  "AHHHHHHHHHHH!" In a dark cell, Marv Murchens screamed in his sleep and woke up terrified. His heart was pounding and cold sweat poured down his face. He jumped out of bed and dashed across the cold concrete floor to his cell mate's bunk.

  "Excuse me." Marv tapped the man on the shoulder.

  "Whadya want?" snarled his cell mate, a huge brutish man, who thought Marv was a wimp.

  "I just had a bad dream," Marv gasped. "Would you mind if I crawled in with you?"

  Wham! The next thing Marv knew, he was sailing backwards. Thunk! Marv's head crashed into the wall and he sank down into his bunk, unconscious.

  In a cell nearby, Harry Lyme heard his partner's head hit the wall with a sickening crack. Harry had also had a nightmare about the McCallister kid. The dream had ended with Harry looking up an old rain gutter and seeing a rusty ten-pound barbell come sailing down straight at his skull.

  Harry slid out of his bunk and walked toward the thick bars at the front of his cell. His ulcer throbbed painfully in the pit of his stomach. He had a plan and, if it worked, both he and Marv would be busting out of this joint in a couple of days. Then they'd have to get some money and leave the country fast. Only one thing could slow them down. Harry's fists tightened around the cold steel bars of the cell. If he ever saw that McCallister kid again . . .

  December 22

  Oak Park, Illinois

  6 P.M.

  The ground was covered with a white blanket of snow, and the houses were lit with colorful twinkling Christmas lights. On the outside, the large brick McCallister house resembled the other stately homes on the block, but inside was a tornado of pre-travel chaos as everyone rushed to pack for their holiday trip.

  "Has anyone seen my sun block?" shouted Tracey, a pretty dark-haired high school senior, as she tried to get down the center stairs. Her path was blocked by her younger sister Sondra, who was lugging her snorkel and fins upstairs.

  "What's the point of going to Florida if you're going to use sun block?" Sondra asked.

  "Yeah," chimed Megan, who was trying to get down the stairs behind Tracey. "I don't care if I age like an old suitcase, I'm getting toasted."

  "So you'll just be a skag with a slightly darker shade of skin," said her older brother Buzz, who was big and wore his red hair in a flattop crewcut. Buzz was pushing his way up the stairs as if he thought he were Refrigerator Perry of the Chicago Bears.

  "Buzz is jealous because he doesn't get tan," yelled Linnie, who was fourteen and blond. "His freckles just connect!"

  At the base of the stairs, Fuller, the youngest member of the McCallister clan, watched the human logjam while sipping a can of Pepsi. Kevin had given him the soda after recording a big burp on his personal Talkboy tape recorder.

  Now, a chubby, bald man with bad posture came into the room. His name was Frank and he was Fuller's father. That day he had driven his family from Ohio to Oak Park so that the McCallister clan could all travel together from O'Hare Airport the next morning.

  "Hey," Frank said, waving a copy of the local newspaper at the crowd on the stairs. "Remember those robbers Kevin caught last Christmas? They just escaped from prison."

  No one paid any attention, so Frank turned to Fuller. "Hey! Who gave you the Pepsi?"

  "Kevin did," Fuller replied. "He said he didn't care because we weren't sharing a bed tonight."

  "You still better go easy on the fluids, pal, because the rubber sheets are already packed," Frank said. Then he looked at his watch. "Oops! Time to take a shower."

  Fuller watched as his father started to push his way up the stairs. Jerk, he thought.

  The only member of the McCallister clan who wasn't in a rush to prepare for the trip was Kevin. He was content to sit on the bed in his parents' bedroom and play with his Talkboy recorder while he watched TV.

  Near him, Kate McCallister was busy packing. Kate was a pretty woman with reddish hair and too much on her mind. During a commercial for laundry detergent, Kevin turned to her. "Mom," he said. "Do my ears stick out?"

  "Of course not," Kate
replied as she continued packing. "Whatever gave you that idea?"

  "Buzz made fun of them," Kevin said.

  "Well, I'll talk to him," Kate said.

  Kevin sighed. His mother was always saying she'd talk to that big dork. Buzz always promised he'd change, but by the next day he'd be the same bully again.

  "Aren't you nervous about your solo with the children's choir tonight?" Kate asked.

  "That's the third time you've asked," Kevin replied, annoyed that she was making such a big deal about the dumb Christmas pageant choir.

  "I'm just concerned," his mother said.

  "How come you're concerned if I'm not?" Kevin asked.

  "I guess you're right." Kate shrugged and went into the bathroom to get her makeup kit.

  "Are you packed?" she called from inside the bathroom.

  Kevin whispered something into his Talkboy and then quickly rewound it. "Yes, Mom," the Talkboy said.

  "All the stuff I put out for you?" Kate asked from the bathroom.

  Kevin played the Talkboy again. "Yes, Mom."

  Kate came out of the bathroom with her brushes and makeup kit and laid them on the bed. "Oh, I forgot to show you what Grandma Penelope sent you for the trip."

  Kevin rolled his eyes. She never got him anything good. "Donald Duck slippers?"

  "Much better than that," Kate said, taking a plastic package out of her suitcase. "An inflatable clown for the pool."

  "Just what I always wanted," Kevin groaned.

  "Now, Kevin, you know it's not the present that's important," Kate said.

  "Sure, Mom, it's the thought that counts." Kevin sighed. Did she really expect him to believe that old line? He turned back to the TV. Ben Brenner, the debonair host of Celebrity Ding-Dang-Dong! was waving good-bye to the television audience.

  "And thanks for joining us," he said. "We'll see you tomorrow on the new Celebrity Ding-Dang-Dong!"

  No, you won't, Kevin thought sadly, because I'll be in Florida in the sweltering heat and practically no ozone layer, playing with my new infiatable clown.

  A grand-looking hotel came on the TV screen. It looked like a huge mansion with tall columns and flags in front. "Guests of the new Celebrity Ding-Dang-Dong! stay at the world renowned Plaza Hotel. It's New York's most exciting hotel experience. For reservations, call toll-free, 1-800-759-3000."

  Now that would be a cool place to go, Kevin thought as his father, Peter, entered the bedroom carrying the family's silver Christmas bell ornament. Peter was a handsome man of medium height with short brown hair. Sometimes it was hard for Kevin to believe that he and Uncle Frank were actually brothers.

  Ding! Ding! Peter shook the silver bell, and both Kate and Kevin looked up, recalling Christmas morning the year before.

  "Every time I hear that bell I remember finding you home alone," Kate said with motherly love in her eyes. "You were such a brave little boy."

  "Sure, Mom." Kevin rolled his eyes. He was tired of hearing about what had happened last Christmas, when he captured those two dumb robbers. It wasn't right to dwell on the past. A kid had to get on with his life.

  "I thought you'd like to take this along," Peter said, handing the bell to his wife.

  "You're right." Kate packed it into her suitcase. Kevin turned back to the TV and started watching a news show about credit card fraud. A guy who looked like Karl Malden was saying that the illegal use of stolen credit cards was one of the fastest-growing areas of crime in the country and the police were really starting to crack down on the offenders of all ages. Suddenly Peter stepped right in front of the TV, blocking Kevin's view.

  "Hey, look out!" Kevin said. "What're you doing, Dad?"

  "Looking for the camcorder battery," Peter said.

  "It's in the charger," Kate said.

  Peter reached behind the nightstand and pulled out the multiple wall plug, not noticing that he was disconnecting the digital alarm clock on the night table. He removed the battery charger and replaced the plug in the wall socket. Instead of reading the correct time, the alarm clock just flashed 12:00 over and over. Peter straightened up and turned to Kevin.

  "Don't you think you better get your jacket and tie on?" he asked.

  Kevin looked up from the TV. "No."

  "We have to leave for the Christmas pageant in a few minutes," Peter said.

  "My tie's in my room and I can't get it," Kevin said.

  "Why not?" Kate asked.

  "Because Uncle Frank's taking a shower in the kid's bathroom," Kevin explained.

  Peter turned to his son. "Just run in and get your tie. It's okay."

  Kevin turned off the TV. "Does Uncle Frank have a lot of muscles nobody knows about?"

  "Only in his head, honey," Kate replied with a smile.

  As Kevin left his parents' bedroom, he found his cousin Sondra and sister Megan dragging their suitcases down the hall.

  "Where's your suitcase, Kevin?" Megan asked.

  "In my room," Kevin said.

  "Well, Dad said we have to have our suitcases down by the door before we go to the Christmas pageant," Megan the know-it-all said.

  "Are you my new mother?" Kevin asked. He couldn't stand it when she nagged him.

  "Remember what happened last year?" Sondra asked.

  Kevin felt his teeth clench. He hated the way they all loved to remind him how he'd missed the trip to Paris and ruined the vacation for everyone. Instead of replying, Kevin aimed the Talkboy at the girls and pressed "play."

  "Blurgh!" The loud belch he'd recorded earlier came out.

  Megan wrinkled her nose. "You're totally nauseating!"

  Kevin just laughed. The girls pulled their luggage past him and down the stairs. Kevin went to his room and pushed the door open. He could hear the shower running in the bathroom and Frank singing something about a "cool jerk."

  Wow, I never knew anyone could sing so badly, Kevin thought. He snuck over to the bathroom door and pushed it open a little. Through the translucent curtain he could see Frank wiggling around as he sang. Kevin aimed the Talkboy toward his uncle and started to record the terrible off-key singing. Suddenly Frank noticed him and yanked the curtain aside.

  "Get outta here, you nosy little jerk!" Frank shouted angrily. "Or I'll come out and slap you silly."

  Kevin slammed the bathroom door, grabbed his tie, and raced out of the room. Didn't anyone have a sense of humor anymore?

  December 22

  Oak Park

  Elementary School

  7 P.M.

  A little while later Kevin stood with the children's choir on the stage at his school. Each member of the choir held a small glowing electric candle. Buzz stood on a riser behind Kevin, and behind Buzz was a row of Christmas trees. The auditorium was lit with holiday lights, and its walls were adorned with wreaths, ribbons, and ornaments. The seats were filled with families of the choir members, and Kevin spotted his parents sitting next to Uncle Frank and his wife, Aunt Leslie.

  Down in front of the choir, Ms. Wickersham, the silver-haired music teacher who accompanied the choir on piano, smiled and nodded. The choir began to sing:

  "Christmas tree, my Christmas tree

  Lit up like a star

  When I see my Christmas tree

  Can loved ones be far?"

  In the audience Kate watched Kevin and Buzz with great pleasure and pride. She was especially excited for Kevin.

  "Kevin's solo is coming up," she whispered to Peter. "Tell Leslie."

  Peter leaned to his sister-in-law, who was even chubbier than Frank and had frizzy bleached blonde hair. "Kevin's solo is coming up. Tell Frank."

  Leslie leaned toward her husband, but saw that his head was tilted back, his eyes closed, and his mouth agape as he snored loudly.

  "Wake up!" she hissed, smacking him on the arm.

  "Wha—?" Frank opened his eyes, startled.

  "Kevin's going to do his solo," she whispered.

  "Oh, great." Frank yawned and went back to sleep.

  On the stage, the ch
oir continued to sing:

  "Christmas tree, I'm certain

  Wherever I roam

  The glow from your branches

  Will light my way home."

  Kevin swallowed nervously and straightened the knot of his tie. He'd never sung a solo before such a large crowd before. Behind him, Buzz was also aware that Kevin's big moment was approaching. As usual the little twerp was getting all the attention, and it ticked Buzz off. If only there was some way he could mess Kevin up . . .

  Buzz had an idea, but it would take another electric candle. He grabbed one from the kid singing next to him, and smiled to himself. This was going to be good.

  In front of the choir, Ms. Wickersham nodded at Kevin and winked. Kevin took a deep breath. This was it. His big solo. He began to sing:

  "Christmas time means laughter Toboggans in the snow . . ."

  Some of the audience started to smile and giggle, but Kevin tried to ignore them and kept singing:

  "Caroling together

  With faces all aglow . . ."

  No sooner were the words out of his mouth than a bunch of people burst out laughing. Kevin's ears burned with humiliation. Even Ms.

  Wickersham was grinning. Kevin forced the next lines of the song out:

  "Stockings on the mantle,

  A wreath on the door."

  By now most of the audience was howling with laughter. Even the other kids in the choir had joined in. Kevin couldn't believe how rude they were being. Could his singing really be that bad? And why did his ears feel so hot?

  "And my merriest Christmas

  Needs just one thing more . . .

  People were laughing and pointing at him. Suddenly Kevin began to suspect something and turned around. Buzz was holding two electric candles and grinning like an idiot. Now Kevin knew why his ears felt so hot. That big jerk had held the candles behind them, making Kevin's ears glow in the middle of his big solo!