Turtles All the Way Down (the Grim Dell)
The Legend of the Mighty Grim Dell Snapping Turtle
ZACH LUTZKY // FLAT HAT MAGAZINE
It was late on a groggy spring afternoon. The rain relentlessly shelled me from all directions. My aeon-long chemistry lecture had nearly killed me, and now I rushed to circumnavigate the Grim Dell on my way to warmth and safety. But the universe had other plans. In the distance, an ominous figure emerged from the fog, obstructing the pathway home. I struggled to comprehend exactly what I was witnessing; a blinding cascade roared over my face. My opponent combined the swift belligerent mobility of a hippopotamus with a stealthy low profile that would make German Panzers cry for mercy. From such a distance I could scarcely discern a razor edged-tail and iron-clad armoured plates. Terror seized me. I prayed the Almighty Zeus might strike me down at that moment. In severe agitation, I tiptoed forward to confront this beast, my waterlogged boots weighing down each agonising step.
My umbrella wrung in my hands like the neck of a Louisville Slugger – I approached. Just when my dilapidated stance could carry me no further, I finally understood the true nature of what I was up against. Looking back, I am frankly ashamed that I was ever afraid. For when I approached, I could see the creature did in fact possess a razor-sharp tail and heavily reinforced armour, but so is the nature of a mere snapping turtle! I decided then to let down my guard, loosening my death grip on the umbrella. My friend stood aloof, basking in the torrent of glorious moisture descending from the Heavens until I stood mere meters away. Without my beckoning, the turtle craned his neck as if to bid me his salutations. His beak appeared to cast a faint smile. I did not want to disrupt my new friend’s beauty hour, so I reciprocated his greetings and continued on my way. But ever since that fateful afternoon, all too many of the thoughts passing through my racing mind have become entirely consumed by the mysterious yet docile figure that is the Grim Dell snapping turtle.
ZACH LUTZKY // FLAT HAT MAGAZINE
After slogging my way home and drying off, the thought occurred to me that I might have not been the first nor only student to encounter the strange and magnificent animal. I immediately got on the horn and buzzed a few friends. A few had heard rumours of the infamous snapping turtle, but none of them knew anybody that had lived to recount the experience. According to legend, all of the campus had feared the turtle for its grimacing long teeth and piercing snout. At the time of the turtle’s birth in the Grim Dell, the water became so agitated a crossing ferryboat nearly sank, and lovely maidens walking along the bank scattered in fear. The long-toothed turtle began to grow not by the day but by the hour! Before long, he routinely crept out of the water and feasted upon the local squirrels – for he could sniff them from afar. He would snatch them with his mighty teeth and they were as good as gone. Students recounted hearing the violent wail of a squirrel as its bones crackled between the turtle’s long teeth. What were the poor squirrels to do? If the turtle were allowed to continue on, they would all be gone before the spring semester. The squirrels confided in the William and Mary Student Assembly to devise a solution to rid their lands of the ravenous snapping turtle. Amid the haggling, no remedy seemed imminent. Suddenly, one brave squirrel silenced the crowd and prepared to speak. It was none other than Jefferson Redbush, the son of a duke – among the highest nobility in the college woods. He presented his testimony in a booming holler, “Dear gentlemen of the College and the wood, I have listened to you ponder and rack your wits to no avail. All of us in the peninsula have grown weary under the tyranny of this malevolent beast. He continues to gobble up squirrels and not Peggy Agouris — in Minecraft of course! There is no life for us any longer in this swamp! Let us move to a more secluded part of the wood and build our enterprise anew. The turtle will cease to terrorise us and we will live happily and beget many children.” The delegation was silent for a moment, then rapturous applause broke out. Arrangements were made hastily to relocate the campus of William and Mary to a safe and hospitable location, like Newport News, however, while the new campus was being constructed, local huntsmen would creep out of their cabins at night and pick off the newly ripened squirrel population one by one. They enjoyed a gourmet squirrel stew nightly with their sons and mistresses. As many of the squirrels had feared back in Williamsburg, none of their kind survived to see the spring semester. In due time, the huntsmen began to starve. So goes the tale of the ravenous snapping turtle of the Grim Dell, though according to this fable he came to a bad end himself.
One local huntsman, Norge Croaker, was desperate to feed his ailing child. He wandered into the desolate wilderness of Williamsburg one night hoping to stumble upon squirrel scraps left behind at the deserted old campus, however, the turtle had grown hungry himself since the squirrels had moved away. On this same night, the turtle emerged from the Grim Dell in search of a sparrow carcass that had once been served at The Caf. As fate would have it, the turtle could not see very well in the dark – his hunger guided him right under the muzzle of the desperate huntsman’s rifle. The huntsman returned to the village with a turtle stew that was universally acclaimed, for the flesh of the turtle was very succulent. With the danger passed, the students of William and Mary returned to their historic campus never to be threatened again.
ZACH LUTZKY // FLAT HAT MAGAZINE
Of course, this story is bullshit. While alligator snapping turtles are notoriously opportunistic carnivores, it is often easier for them to catch prey under the water such as fish or the toxic waste-infested muskrats of the Grim Dell. That’s not to say this turtle would not eat a squirrel should it get its claws on one, but the squirrels could have just have easily climbed up one of the many available trees on campus rather than picking up everything and leaving town. Furthermore, snapping turtles almost exclusively hunt at night and therefore don’t characteristically have problems seeing in the dark. He wouldn’t have just clumsily stupefied under the huntsman’s gun. What’s more, the huntsman’s soup would not have been beloved by all the townspeople. While turtle soup was once a popular dish among humans, it was ultimately ruled too dangerous to consume due to concern over environmental pollutants embedded in the turtle’s flesh. Besides, the people of Newport News have persisted on a steady diet of Bojangles and Wawa iced mocha for centuries now. Lastly, the alligator snapping turtle is an indigenous species to the eastern United States’ coastal plain. It has cohabitated these lands with the squirrels peacefully for millennia. If this story had taken place in Czechia, Bavaria, or Hungary, where alligator snapping turtles were released illegally and have become an invasive species, I might have been inclined to believe it.
But if the turtle is not a menace to our society, how should we view it? It still possesses such dubious powers incongruent with the William and Mary Honour Code, such as the ability to amputate a finger or toe with a simple clench of the jaw. I must point out, however, that this is a two- way street. As much as the turtle can hurt us, we can hurt it. For starters, rumblings have persisted across the administration for years about a potential removal of the famed Grim Dell floating mattress. While alligator snapping turtles are not currently listed as an endangered species, such egregious destruction of habitat would certainly not bode well for the continued sustenance of similar animals looking to relocate to Hampton Roads. Moreover, we must understand that the turtle always remains two steps ahead of us and any attempts made against it, inadvertent or otherwise, should be in vain. College students are insecure, angsty weirdos by nature.
Conversely, snapping turtles are adapted to be top-of-the-food- chain predators, causing them to physically be less likely to feel fear in confrontational situations. Not to mention that on my walk home in the rain, the turtle probably had eyes on me long before I spotted it – an ambush would have been a piece of cake. With that said, I don’t believe this friend of ours has any cruel intentions. It had no good reason to let me walk away with my life that fateful afternoon, yet it did. Why? Perhaps instead of an agitator, this mysterious animal serves us as a protector. A sort of Batman to our Gotham. You might take the reclusively of the turtle as a sign of hostility at first, as I did, but know that its menacing appearance is only for show. In reality, this animal is quite docile, unless you fuck with it. Thus, we should do all that we can to enter into its good graces and pray that one day we might be deemed worthy. Sometimes I lie awake at night and think of the time I encountered the turtle on the path. I know now that it was not fate that brought us together, but the will of the turtle himself. Why I do not know. What I can say is that should we ever meet again, I will have abandoned my fear. I shall have accepted him as one of my own. Those of you readers that will be lucky enough to be one of the select few to make his acquaintance, as I was, do not fret. For in that moment, you will be right where you are supposed to be – at home with the beast of the Grim Dell.
