Beneath the Dock

CW: Contains themes and/or references to adult language, physical violence, gore

1980:

Daphne heaved her duffel bag into the sandy dirt and turned back to her parents, who hadn’t bothered to get out of the car to say bye. Her dad rolled down the driver’s-side window of the station wagon with a few swift cranks.

“I put your bible in your bag. Don’t bring home any of those bugs you collect.”

“Bye, Honey,” her mom’s head poked out from behind her dad’s stern face, “make some friends. And please be good.”

With a short wave, her parents were backing through the trees. Daphne let out a deep breath as she watched her parents disappear under the sagging “Welcome Campers” sign. The scent of evergreen trees and salt filling her lungs. She was happy to be away from the constant masking, and to spend the summer far away from anyone she knew. She had begged her parents to pay for Summer Biology Camp, and they agreed after Daphne alluded to an interest in a college degree. The Alabama camp sat in a muggy coastal marsh filled with salt tolerant plants and diverse wildlife for the high school students to study.

A red-tailed hawk scouting the treetops caught Daphne’s eye. The hawk took flight towards the distant marshes, the flat campground giving way to tidal creeks and cordgrass just beyond the rows of log cabins. A rumble of laughs pulled Daphne from her thoughts, and she became aware of the group of teenagers waiting in front of two check-in tables.

Girls with tight blonde ponytails whispered in each other’s ears to her left, and Daphne followed their eyes to a group of boys in football shirts across the crowd. The boys were clearly the source of laughter that stole Daphne’s attention before.

Unease lifted from Daphne’s stomach into the back of her throat, and she began to worry if she would make any friends this summer.

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Check-in was a blur of clipboards and cheering counselors. After being directed to the Reptile Cabin, Daphne walked through the screen door to a window-lined room. The interior was modest with plaid bunk beds in a row against the far wall and a bathroom to the right. A salty breeze moved through the room, rustling the beads in her long braids.

She claimed a bottom bunk with a toss of her bag and explored the woody home. No one else had been assigned to the Reptile Cabin yet. She wandered to the single rusted mirror hanging in the bathroom and examined her amber face for pimples. Should she have brought lip gloss? She wouldn’t have usually worn lipgloss outside in the summer heat, but she wanted to feel different this summer. Embrace the things she wanted to do even if they seemed trivial, like having full glittery lips for the first dinner at camp.

The screen door creaked open, and heavy footsteps came from the other room. A tall girl with cropped black waves walked into the Reptile Cabin. Her light brown skin was sunkissed, and she had a piercing above her right eyebrow. The girl’s gaze fell on Daphne, and Daphne felt her cheeks get hot.

“Hi, I’m Gale.” The voice that came from the girl’s lined lips was lower than Daphne expected, and she felt a flutter in her stomach introducing herself to her roommate. Daphne hurried over to her bunk and began unpacking the contents of her duffel into an old chest at the foot of the bed.

Gale tossed her suitcase onto the ground and turned to the bunks neighboring Daphne’s. The tall girl swiftly climbed to the top bunk, settling onto her side and resting her head on one hand. Daphne waited for her to say something, but Gale sat staring as Daphne finished unpacking her clothes. Daphne quickly stuffed her underwear into the musty trunk, wondering why she didn’t bring anything cuter.

Other girls came in and claimed their bunks, a redhead named Tammy taking the bunk above Daphne. The girls talked and laughed, bonding over a shared love of frogs or bugs or plants. Every now and then, Daphne would glance up to see Gale staring at her. She learned from listening in on the girls’ conversations that Gale was 17, visiting from North Carolina for the summer, and planned on going to college to be a marine biologist.

The sound of a trumpet signaled dinner, and the girls quickly changed into their camp uniforms of green t-shirts and khaki shorts before walking down the dirt path to the mess hall. Daphne piled chicken fingers, mac ‘n cheese, and a milk carton onto her enamel tray as the camp counselors announced their activities for the summer: insect collecting, nature crafting, birding, canoeing. Daphne fell asleep quickly that night, dreaming of grasses and Gale.

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In the weeks following, Daphne spent her days pinning insects, updating her birding journal, and making crafts from the seabird feathers she found on the campground. One of the jocks, he seemed quieter than the others, had complimented Daphne’s field journal sketch of a salamander during the day’s herpetology workshop. The boy’s name was Collin. Daphne thought that he enjoyed being at Biology Camp more than he let on to his friends.

Nighttime brought giggles shared over card games and truth-or-dare with Daphne’s bunkmates. When a game of spin the bottle became imminent, Daphne and Gale snuck out of the cabin, slipping through the screen door so it wouldn’t squeak. They found themselves walking barefoot through the mudflats beyond the camp. The night was quiet, and they listened for croaks from within the muddy marsh grasses. Something moved underneath the mire, and Gale reached her fingers into the mud.

With a wet glop, Gale pulled a small American alligator from its resting place in the shallow tide. It was no bigger than a cat. Gale held the gator’s narrow mouth to her face and examined it in the moonlight. A hissing sound rose from deep within, but it stayed still within Gale’s grip.

“Put it down, Gale! It’s just a baby.” Daphne stumbled backwards. “We don’t know where it’s momma’s at. It's gettin’ creepy out here.”

Gale allowed the creature to slip from her fingers back into the muddy tide.

A few hundred feet from the marshland, Gale showed Daphne to an old wooden dock she stumbled upon while tracking an early morning heron. It didn’t seem like the camp used the swimming hole, but the dark wooden boards of the dock remained intact.

“Is it deep?” Daphne wasn’t a good swimmer, and she preferred staying in the shallows.

Gale grabbed Daphne’s hand and led her to the end of the dock. Sitting criss-crossed, they looked to the stars and talked about their favorite constellations. Daphne let Gale place a menthol between her lips and light it with the strike of a match stashed in the cigarette pack. Daphne pulled the cigarette from her lips, coughing, and tried not to look like this was her first one. With a loud laugh, Gale grabbed Daphne’s face and kissed her.

__________________

The muggy July air hung heavy one afternoon, and the girls of the Reptile Cabin lounged in front of a box fan blowing hot air from their cabin window. Tammy fanned herself with a magazine while Daphne and Gale lay with Daphne’s headphones sitting in between them, trying to ignore the sheets becoming wet from sweat.

“It’s hot as hell in here.” Gale said to no one in particular as she peeled off her t-shirt to reveal a thin white tank top underneath.

“Let’s go swimmin’.”

“You know I’m no good at swimmin’. And the beach is too far anyway.”

“We don’t need the beach,” Gale hinted at the wooden dock where they had shared a kiss nights before.

The girls both giggled, and Tammy raised her auburn eyebrow in protest.

Daphne and Gale grabbed their swim towels and snuck behind the row of cabins towards their swimming hole. Daphne thought a group of boys smoking behind the mess hall had seen them run past, one of them whistling with fingers between crusted lips. The worry quickly left her mind when Gale grabbed her hand and began running down the overgrown path. Dark water waited beneath when they arrived at the dock.

The girls stripped under the smoldering summer sun, the thought of grabbing swimsuits slipping their mind in their frenzy to beat the heat. It was quiet here, the only other sounds being the slow waves of the water or the occasional call of a marsh swallow.

Daphne’s stomach turned with anxiety.

“I think I’m fine sittin’ here with my feet in the water.” Daphne looked down into the brackish water, her black nail polish hidden under the waves.“I don’t think I can do this.”

Gale gave her a reassuring kiss on the forehead.

“Babe, you don’t have to worry about anything. I’m right here and we’ve been herping downshore from here all summer. The water’s gonna feel so good!”

Toes hanging from the edge of the dock, Gale cannonballed into the still water. Sweat slid down Daphne’s back, and she looked at the girl smiling in the water before her. With a giggle, she was slowly descending into the water, sliding her legs in first and letting herself fall into Gale’s waiting arms.

The water was cold and salty, instantly cooling her from the afternoon heat.

“It’s not so bad, huh? Try swimmin’ by yourself. I’ll be right here.”

Daphne reluctantly let go and floated a few feet from Gale. She noticed a buttonbush growing full along the legs of the dock, its hairy white flowers dipping into the water with every gentle wave. Gale floated on her back with her eyes closed, not seeming to care where she ended up in the endless meandering streams that flowed through the marsh grass.

The sound of reeds crunching underfoot came from the shore beyond the dock.

“What was that?” Daphne’s heart raced at the thought of a marsh creature finding they’ve disturbed its home.

A group of boys emerged from the trees. The group of jocks had followed them.

“Well, well what’s going on here?” A fat boy with greasy brown hair stomped onto the dock. Daphne was sure it would collapse under his heavy feet.

“Looks like we’ve stumbled onto some lesbian lovers,” said the boy who had whistled when they ran past. Daphne noticed Collin among the group, standing behind the others with his hands shoved into his pockets.

With a smirk and a look back to his posse, the fat boy grabbed their undergarments and began walking back towards the waiting boys on shore. A roar of laughter came from the group, and Gale yelled names at them from the water.

Would the boys tell anyone? Would the camp tell her parents? Daphne’s breathing became faster, and her legs felt like lead pulling her under. Her head slipped beneath the water, her arms failed to keep her afloat, and she couldn't take a deep breath without water filling her throat. She looked for Gale, for relief.

Their eyes met for a brief moment, and Gale began swimming quickly towards her. Barely able to see above the water, a long shadow rose in Daphne’s vision. A whimper left her lips as Daphne watched the scaled nose glide up from the depths, curved white teeth shining underneath the Alabama sun. The giant alligator’s mouth opened to envelop Gale’s entire upper body, her torso ripped from her waist left floating in the black water.

Daphne stared—she wasn’t sure how long—at Gale’s blood slowly filling the marsh. Then she was being yanked from the water, not by the alligator, but by Collin. She thought he asked if she had been bit, but she was frantically searching the water for any signs of life. Colin wrapped a towel around her naked body and carried her back to camp.

1983:

The smell of bacon filled the kitchen as Daphne moved quietly about the dimly-lit kitchen. She rested a hand on her swollen stomach, waiting for the familiar flutter that came with the first meal of the day. Collin wouldn’t be awake for another hour, and Daphne savored the silence of mornings alone before the baby arrived.

Four years earlier, when she lay a shivering teenager in a hospital bed, Collin had visited with a fistful of flowers and eyes full of hope. In that moment, Daphne realized what he offered: safety. His arms were steady, his skin pale and unremarkable. With him, there would be no need to hide in reeds and shadows, no midnight meetings at the water’s edge.

Her parents found him charming. He went to church on Sundays. It was easier this way—easier to marry the man who fit into everyone else’s fairytale. Easier to accept the version of her story people wanted: the rescued girl, the lucky bride, the happy mother-to-be.

But every morning, in the quiet before Collin woke, Daphne saw the sudden spray of blood, Gale’s body sinking beneath the water, the silence that followed. The marsh had taken Gale, but it had also taken Daphne’s future. What remained was a life built on safety, on secrets, on choosing not to drown again.