Short Story: Dawson City

Dawson City has claimed my heart, amongst other things, burning like embers carried in the wind. Like fairies— spinning and dying, short-lived, oddly familiar. 

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His name was Garrett, a heartbreaker like no other. With such a reputation, I should’ve known what I was getting myself into at the beginning of summer. College was where we’d part ways, but being able to say I’d experienced Garrett Tobias would be worth the pain. But those three magical months were anything but predictable. 

Our first date was at a drive-in movie. His hand rested steadily on my knee, his thick, cheap cologne choking me with each inhale. I held my breath as he leaned over and kissed me, tasting of butter and salt. His elbow honked the horn halfway through by accident. The guy in front of us, tangled up with a lady in his rusted red Ford, leapt out with arms thrown to the sky. He cursed us with a mouth a sailor would’ve envied, daring Garrett to fight. Coaxing him with insults and assaulting the front of a car he valued like a child.

Garrett went home with a black eye and swollen lip. He didn’t call me for a week. 

Our second date wasn’t a real date, but a party at Garrett’s summer cabin when he was sure his parents were getting wasted in the next town over. I was the only one sober, refusing to touch any liquor as it passed my way. 

His best friend kissed me, hands sliding up and down my body as if looking for good fortune and I was the genie’s lamp. But there were no wishes to be granted other than mine, and I saw it take the form of a teenage boy’s vexation. Garrett charged over, glassy intoxication and bloody murder playing in his eyes. It didn’t end as quickly as hoped their antics had the house caught in a breath of silence, horrified as blood sprayed from their lips. Bold and foolishly, I stepped between them. I wore the black eye that time, Garrett’s friend apologizing until he was knocked unconscious. My hand burned with pride.

My parents had been away that night, as well. Garrett pressed an ice pack to my face while we watched old movies. As we sobered, anger simmered into giggly fits, recalling the shock of his friend when my hand imprinted into his face. We fell asleep in each others arms, Garrett’s heart beating against my chest. A steady anchor as the night drifted through us.

We discovered just how beautiful a sunrise could be, and how deeply my father could frown when he discovered a boy in my bed. Garrett, ever charming, snaked his way into my mother’s heart and bonded with my father in under ten minutes. He sat with us for breakfast and walked away with their respect.

We celebrated Garrett’s birthday mid-July, pressed against each other in the dry grass, stars shining overhead, the only bodies existing for miles. Our hands were interlocked, shoulders tight, eyes on the sky. His dark hair—soft and messy from fingers running endlessly through it— never looked better. Whispering in my ear, gooseflesh rippled down my back with every word. 

“You’re beautiful, Deb. You’re absolutely stunning.” We were wrapped up in each other until our lips were numb and our bodies cold, but we didn’t go home. We sat in the bed of his truck layered in blankets and mosquito bites, talking about life after college. He didn’t have a destination, but he had a goal: to never become his father, a poor drunk with a million kids from different mothers, and past due court appearances. He made me promise not to let him do something stupid this summer. To steer him from any choices that would screw up college before he had a chance to attend. That night, I wished upon every star I found that Garrett Tobias would lead a normal life.

The summer carnival brought bad memories in the form of Garrett’s ex-girlfriend in the bare minimum of fabric, her lusty eyes dusted in neon pink eyeshadow. She purred every word, hands exploring Garrett’s chest and licking her lips in failed attempts to seduce him. In a flat tone, he told her to leave, but Eileen pursued him still. 

Stepping between them, I seized her wrists, pressing myself in the narrow space between them. Pressed against my back, Garrett’s fingers danced across my stomach, chin rested on my shoulder. Eileen’s eyes snapped to a glare. 

“He’s mine,” I whispered, tightening my grip on her bony wrists until she squirmed and wiggled, grimacing in pain. “Touch him again, and the next thing you’ll be seen in is a coffin.” She spat curses and told us that, “Psychopaths attract psychopaths,” before trotting away. I turned back to Garrett, expecting our summer fun to be cut short by anger or disgust. His eyes shone with an unnameable glint. He pulled me into him, kissing until we were dizzy.

We were quickly crowned ‘Couple of the Summer.’ We didn’t deserve that title, though. We both knew this fling wasn’t born of attraction, but rather two people with a fear of loneliness and a quick cure. Summer flings never went further than the change of season. I felt closer to him then I did my own skin, thoughts of him overtaking me all day and night. I grew to worry not only about my future but his, wondering if Garrett would make a name for himself outside of his bloodline. I knew he would. Wherever he went, he’d make a splash. I just wished I could be there to see it. 

He brought me home to meet his younger sister Nellie and older brother Tyler. The former was still in her elementary years, wearing stained overalls when I walked in. Her curiousness won over her shyness, a coy smile on her lips. “You’re pretty,” she said softly. I claimed the spot next to her as Garrett rooted through the fridge for something non-alcoholic, per my request. “If I’m pretty, you must be a princess,” I whispered. Nellie gasped, covering her mouth with her hand. She giggled ferociously, “No!” 

Taking her hand, we laughed together, assuring her that she was the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen. Nellie hugged me, her tiny arms circling my body. “Thank you,” she said, laying her head in the crook of my neck. A tear slipped from the corner of my eye. Tyler was well into his twenties, but would die in the same room he was raised in. He slapped Garrett on the back before bouncing down the hall, humming a tune.

Every graduate attended the summer send-off at Bear Lake. Wearing a two-piece with a backup sweater tied around my waist, I was one of the more modestly dressed. Refusing every beer offered to me was a feat in itself, but Garrett followed in my sobriety. He’d packed us sodas snacks, remembering all my favourites. 

Despite dark waters below, people still lined up to jump from the jagged cliff. Splashes and proceeding howls were the only indication they’d made it. Garrett was ushered away by a group of friends, but he fought to ask my permission between their teasings. With a quick kiss and a slightly longer kiss, he ran off to complete the daring jump. 

Holding my breath as he lined up the jump, gearing into a run. My heart surged as he took off, disappearing from view. For a few heart pounding seconds, everything felt  too quiet and too loud, all at once. Until a familiar chorus of deep laughter sprung from below, and I could breathe again.

I fell behind, not wanting to be caught in the crowd. Thinking I’d bumped into someone, a hand clasped onto my shoulder, and I went to turn into an apology. But then another slapped over my mouth, locked around my body, dragging us from the crowd.

Drunk and rowdy teenagers were blind to my struggle. Garrett was still in the water. I dropped my drink and pushed fiercely against the attacker's arm. Sucked past the cliff and into the woods, I fought hard to chomp down onto their hand, my teeth sinking deep enough to draw blood. 

And as they yelped, sucking their hand back to cradle the injury, I finally saw the assailant: Garrett’s ex-friend. I could still feel the momentum of the swing as my fist connected with his jaw after an unsolicited kiss. 

“Back for more, Rogers?” I croaked. He grinned wickedly, his face lit only by moonlight pouring down. The glint in his waistband wouldn’t of been so obvious, had he not pulled back his shirt and lifted the knife to the light. I didn’t know how this would end: bloody or peaceful, quietly or in a duel. But my parents would not lose their child like this.

I ran, following the bass of nearby speakers. Even at my fastest, his steps were longer and quicker, his arm hooked around me quickly. I let out an ear-piercing scream trying to attract the attention of someone sober enough to help. ‘Garrett,’ I thought. My first thought was of him, splashing in the water, blissfully unaware of my situation. 

“Your boyfriend can’t help you, Deb.” Luke whispered raggedly, breath hot with alcohol. “Nobody will ever see your body again, and poor Garrett will go on for the rest of his life, always questioning what he could’ve done differently.” 

A sharp, familiar laugh broke the tension. “Anybody touches a finger on my girl, I know. You’re damn stupid if you thought otherwise.” My boyfriend stood broad-shouldered, soaking wet just ten feet away, fists clenched. 

My elbow swung back into Luke’s gut and he bent in two, knife dropped. Frozen a second too late, I wasn’t the first to grab the knife. Garrett lunged beside me, his grip tight on the cheap handle. He played with it, testing the weight in his hand, eyes dark.

I grabbed his arm. “Don’t.” One word, an obvious meaning. I had promised him I wouldn’t let him do anything stupid this summer. If he broke that promise in these woods, Garrett would face more than college troubles.

“You embarrassed me that night, Garrett. You ruined my reputation.” Luke growled. I kept my distance, hiding beside Garrett’s solid figure. 

“You were a rat to begin with. Now everyone else knows. I didn’t do anything to you; I just helped it come out.” Slow, Garrett pointed the knife at Luke. His hands shook slightly. 

Garrett looked back at me, eyes softening. “You’re okay?” I nodded, but it wasn’t enough to satisfy. As though Luke Rogers was poisonous to the touch, the very notion I’d been tainted by his hands seemed to urge Garrett further on. It was then that Luke jumped, but the dark forest was no place to fight, and he impaled himself on the knife still clutched in Garrett’s hand. 

Luke stumbled, with little shock. But as blood sputtered from his silent lips, skin paling, he and Garrett met eyes. Luke fell to his back noiselessly, dying in a mess of dirt and leaves. Garrett stood still, breath heavily, his empty hand still outstretched. 

Leaves crunched as bodies wandered into the woods far behind us, flashlight shining dimly. There was no time to be scared. No time for shock. I held back a gag as blood gushed from the open wound when I removed the knife, wrapping it in my sweater. 

“What are you doing, Deb? What are you doing?” 

I thrusted the bundle into his hands. “Run,” I told him. “Get rid of it. Don’t show me where.” Pushing and pushing him to snap him from his daze, Garrett stumbled, but caught his footing and took off in a jog. 

I held my breath as the small crowd came closer, ducking as their light fanned our way. Only once they branched off to the left did I breathe again. Garrett returned ten minutes later, out of breath. “Where?” I asked. He pointed in one direction, so I turned my sight the opposite way. “We’re going uphill. Grab an end.” 

We carried the unexpectedly heavy body, spending the better part of an hour in silence. We came to a cave hidden behind a scattering of bushes, and decided that it was the best place to lay him to rest. Luke’s body would be returned to nature sooner than later, with such an outrageous population of wild animals and insects abuzz. We returned to the site of the party, leaving without a single goodbye. 

We vowed to never tell anybody, and Garrett said nothing but “okay,” the whole ride. He dropped me home without a kiss or a hug or a smile. His eyes never met mine as I walked to the door, and his truck remained parked in the drive until I locked the door behind me. I held my breath until his headlights sunk from view, and then I collapsed onto the floor, crying. I cried until I could no longer breathe without it coming out raspy, until my throat was sore and my face red. 

Dawson City now had a permanent resident, sleeping in a cave, eyes open in an immortal frown while I lay in bed replaying the night’s events. A cry. The surge of blood. His dead eyes. His hand over my mouth and the open wound in his gut. Dawson City has claimed my heart, amongst other things, like the steady pump of blood through Luke Roger’s body, and all the aspirations of a young and dumb teenage boy. 

September came quickly, and I was still deeply in love with Garrett Tobias, but we both knew that it wouldn’t work, as I had known before it started. Of course, I didn’t know that it would end this way. We knew that we could never see each other again, and never return to Dawson City. If we distanced ourselves from the town and the people associated, maybe we’d eventually forget. 

Garrett grew to be a successful lawyer, marrying a blonde saleswoman at the age of 28. They had three kids, and they looked exactly like him, from their dazzling eyes to their goofy grins. My biggest regret was never going after him when college let out, and my heart sank when the wedding photos appeared online. It had to be that way if we were to live our lives unburdened. Even if we were on opposing coastlines, he would always be at my side. Whenever I closed my eyes, I could still feel his hands on my waist, feel his lips on mine, and still see Garrett’s face, half moonlight and half shadow, as he delivered a fatal blow. 

I didn’t settle, never staying in one place long enough to be known. That night in the forest haunted me every waking hour, and I could only hope that Garrett got off better. 

The memory didn’t erase itself, as I knew by the grim look on Garrett’s face in a candid photo his wife had posted, that he was suffering just as much as I. And when the news broke that the body of Luke Rogers had been found after a 15-year long search, his parents begging for any information, the phone never rang.