Chapter 2: Much Ado About Muffing

Velma banged on the bathroom door for the umpteenth time, her patience finally worn thin.

"DAPHNE! HURRY THE FUCK UP!JESUS!"

Daphne was surprisingly an early riser, and as such had gotten the bathroom before Velma in the mornings. Which meant Velma was left with cold water and about ten minutes for herself. Daphne had an entire ritual that took over an hour each and every morning.

Daphne's "at least a day" had quickly turned into a week. Velma didn't mind, although it did take some time getting used to Daphne's constant presence. The quietude Velma so cherished was harder to come by now, but before long she was enjoying Daphne's usual discourse.

Velma's parents were even more excited. Maybe too excited. Every night was a movie night, and every movie night was Nicholas Sparks (or Nicholas Sparks-adjacent). Velma always joined, if only to chat with everyone.

Daphne was taking to the Dinkleys quite well: she's already established a spot at the dining room table, and the Dinkleys made sure to eat together at the table every evening. Mr. and Mrs. Dinkley had essentially gained a new daughter, one who was much less bookish, but much more bubbly.

The speaker in Velma's bedroom played a lot more Taylor Swift than it usually did. Velma listened to Daphne lecture about making sure not to stream Scooter Braun's versions. Velma was impressed with Daphne's concern for what seemed like an ethical issue.

On this morning, the seventh of Daphne's stay, all four current occupants of the Dinkley household were gathered round the table, feasting on scrambled eggs that weren't seasoned enough. After a while, Mrs. Dinkley spoke up:

"Velma, are you working at the shop today?"

Velma nodded. "I'm scheduled at noon until seven."

Daphne's brow furrowed. "What shop? You didn't tell me you had a job."

Velma was chewing, but she nodded her head. "Just down at the curio shop, down by the lake."

"Curio?"

"It's a museum with a gift shop. Trust me, it's a tourist trap."

"What do you do there?"

"Sell knick-knacks, make sure people don't steal, et cetera. Nothing special."

Daphne seemed antsy, shifting in her seat, tapping her feet.

Velma suppressed a sigh. "Do you want—"

"Yes."

The Dinkleys could barely contain themselves. Mr. Dinkey was beaming with pride. "This is great! You're free to 'intern' as long as you're here! Velma will show you all the ropes."

Velma supposed Daphne would serve as a good distraction to combat the boredom she felt at work.

What's the worst that could happen?

Velma, no, she thought, arguing with herself. That mindset is only asking for trouble. Just try to keep it as unspectacular a day as possible.

...And try she did, but to no avail. Her efforts were futile in the face of Daphne Blake. While trying to "show her the ropes," Daphne was already conversing with tourists as if she'd been working here all her life. She gave long, detailed explanations for each exhibit—and they were all accurate, so Velma couldn't really chastise her for it. While Velma sat behind a cash register at the gift shop, Daphne was giving expansive tours of the premises.

She'd probably fit right in at the Myrtle Plantation.

The first four hours of the shift provided Velma with a whopping three customers. Meanwhile, Daphne has gathered quite a crowd. She led her congregation through the rows of exhibits while Velma stared into space.

Then, a little after 4:00 p.m., there was a considerable ruckus in the parking lot. Velma leaned over the gift shop counter to find the source of all the noise. What she saw was a large green tractor, practically quaking with the power of its engine. Whoever was driving was trying to fit it into a parking spot, and having a hard time doing it. Eventually, they maneuvered the monstrosity on the side of the lot nearest to the lake, taking up four parking spots in the process.

Dear Lord, please don't let them come in.

The door swung open, ringing the bell. In walked two men: a large, tan-skinned, middle-aged man wearing nothing but overalls and caked in dirt and grime; and a younger man, probably around eighteen, also wearing just overalls, also covered in dirt to the point that it bordered on blackface. The two barefoot men walked up to the gift shop.

The younger man said, "Excuse me, miss, where's y'all's manager?"

Oh, shit.

"That'd be me, sir." Velma tried not to crinkle her nose as the men's scent wafted over to her: an acrid stench containing within it (but certainly not limited to) bovine manure.

"Well," the boy continued, "do you think you could lend us a hand?"

"Sure thing. What's the problem?"

"Well, ya see, my paw here left his cellular here a few days back."

Days.

"Oh, okay, let me just check in the lost-and-found bin for you."

Velma walked into the "Employees Only" back room and knelt down to expect the plastic bin full of misplaced items. Unfortunately, she didn't see a single cell phone. She returned to the counter.

"It doesn't look like it's in the lost-and-found," she said, faux-regret mixed in with her voice. "Does your paw remember where he last had it?"

The boy got on tiptoe and proceeded to whisper in the older man's ear. The older man listened with a blank stare on his face. Then, he let out a sort of primal grunt, then turned to whisper back to the boy. The boy nodded, adding a few "Mhmm"s.

"He says he was fly fishing down at the lake."

Mmmmmm.

"I see..." Velma struggled to think of what to say next, but before she could say anything, a flash of red hair interrupted her train of thought.

"Hey, there!" Daphne stood grinning ear to ear, hands behind her back.

The cogs in Velma's head started to turn. "Ah, Daphne, come see me for a minute. I need your help with something."

"Sure thing, co-worker." If Daphne smiled any more, the corners of her mouth would split open.

Velma ushered Daphne into the back room.

"Daphne, the two gentlemen up front are looking for a lost cell phone."

"Ooh, fun!"

"Yeah...anyway, will you help me find it? They say they last remember having it down by the lake."

"Even better! I'm dying to get some sun. Let's go!"

Beads of sweat started to collect under Velma's bangs as she walked down to the lake with Daphne and the two farm boys. Even the autumn chill didn't help cool her off—today, the sky was cloudless, and shone down oppressively on Crystal Cove.

On the other hand, Daphne might as well have been a kid at a playground. She ran out in front of the group, gracefully cantering down the steep incline. When the group finally reached the shore, the boy said, "My paw says he was stationed over yonder." He pointed just a little ways over north.

"Affirmative," said Daphne, turning around to jog in front of the group again.

The four of them eventually found where the boy's "paw" allegedly was. Paw stood there with the same blank expression on his face as he gazed off into space. The boy was kneeling on the ground, looking for the phone, while Daphne was on flat on her stomach, rummaging through the grass.

After a few minutes of searching, Daphne piped up:

"I've got a trail!"

"A what?" said Velma.

"See for yourself," said Daphne nonchalantly. She gestured for the others to come look. Sure enough, there in the hardening mud was an imprint of an open flip phone; and right next to it was a set of prints.

"The prints almost look like baby hands," said Daphne. "Probably reptilian."

"Ya think so?" asked the boy.

"Pretty sure. There's only one way to be positive: c'mon, let's get tracking."

So Daphne's a ranger.

Daphne stayed low to the ground as she followed the apparently reptilian prints further along the shore. After what felt like ages of watching the ginger-haired girl crawl army-style on the ground, the group had arrived at a particularly overgrown pile of rocks. At the front, there was a small opening. The track led inside.

"Guys, I'm goin' in," said Daphne.

An alarm sounded in Velma's head. "Hold on. Are you sure about this? What if it's an alligator or something?"

Daphne scoffed. "Velma, I'd be able to tell if it was an alligator. Trust me." Before she could protest, Velma watched as Daphne disappeared into the tiny cavern. Only the sound of her hands and feet on the ground were audible. Velma knelt down with the boy and Paw, though none of them could see through the dark.

Then: "Eureka!" accompanied by more scuffling sounds. Within a few moments, Daphne emerged feet first from the little cave. When her head finally popped out, she reached out a hand. She was holding a dilapidated Jitterbug phone. The boy grabbed the phone, saying, "Gee, thank you, madam!"

Still, Daphne wasn't moving any further. Velma thought it looked as if she was struggling with something. She was grimacing, pulling against something.

"Oh, no ya don't," she said, finally getting all the way out. She had her hands gripped around a scaly tail.

Mother of God.

With a little more struggling, she wrenched the creature out of its cave. In her hands was a monitor lizard. Daphne gripped its mouth closed and held its body with her other hand.

Velma's mouth hung open.

"Lordy be," said the boy.

Paw gazed off into the distance.

The group had trekked back up to the parking lot. Paw and the boy were jumping up into the tractor. Daphne was perched on the tractor as well, no longer holding the lizard's mouth shut. It seemed to have taken a liking to her.

"Really, ma'am, I can't thank you enough," said the boy.

"It's not problem, sir," said Daphne, her smile having returned in all its glory. She turned to Velma and said, "You know, monitor lizards aren't indigenous to this area—he's probably somebody's pet that got lost."

Velma was still processing the past few minutes. "Well, we can't leave it in the lost-and-found, Daphne."

"I know, I know..." Her tone was mournful. She shook her head a bit, bringing the grin back and turning back to Paw and the boy, who were now seated in the tractor, starting it up. "Well, anyways, I'm glad I could help you two gentlemen!"

"Say, are you from around here?" asked the boy as the tractor hummed to life, quaking once again.

"No, not originally, but I'm here for the time being. Why do you ask?"

"I just thought I'd remember seein' you 'round these parts is all."

"Oh, please, don't flatter me."

"You sure do seem to know a lot about tracking. You ever worked in a park or somethin'?"

"No, just a natural talent, I guess." Daphne flipped her hair.

"Well, if you're ever interested, we're tryin' to find a coyote that's been snatching our chickens away."

Paw maintained his blank stare in the passenger seat, but at the mention of the lost chickens, there seemed to be a hidden tragedy behind those eyes.

Daphne continued: "Oh, well, that does sound very interesting. Are you guys local or—Jesus motherfucking Christ, that's hot!" Suddenly she was shaking her hand and wincing.

"Uh oh, I think you were holdin' onto the muffler, ma'am," said the boy. "But don't worry: it only just got started, so it shouldn't be too serious."

"Yeah, I think you're right," said Daphne.

After countless more farewells, Daphne hopped down from the tractor, and the boy drove out of the parking lot.

Velma put her hands on her hips. "Okay, well, I'm here 'til seven."

"Sounds good," replied Daphne. "I'll catch you at home."

Velma returned to the cash register as Daphne departed in the Mystery Machine.

I don't know what she's up to, but...

Actually, no, I'd really just rather not know.

Late in the night, Velma awoke to a thump at the bottom of the stairs. She slipped out of bed to investigate. Daphne was gone.

Please, sweet Holy Mother of God...

Velma crept down the stairs and peered into the kitchen. There was Daphne, wearing her nightgown, crouched down with the back door open.

Velma didn't have her glasses on, but she didn't need them to know exactly what the fuck Daphne was doing because of course she was. She could make out the shape of a bag of kibble in Daphne's hand. She reached a hand into the bag, grabbing a handful of the dry food, and stretched the hand out.

"There you go, buddy," she whispered. "Ooh, no snapping—there, that's a good boy!"

And thus, the Dinkleys added a fifth family member.