Leech Incident

The Leech Incident is the most visceral and psychologically scarring event of the boys' journey to find Ray Brower's body, a sudden eruption of bodily horror that shatters the fragile camaraderie and bravado they have maintained since crossing the trestle. Occurring on the second day of their hike, it transforms a moment of innocent relief and play into a collective trauma, leaving Gordon Lachance with a lifelong phobia and marking a point of no return in the adventure's descent from a lark into a grim ordeal.

Discovery of the Beaver Pond and the Swim

Around nine-thirty on the morning of the second day, Teddy Duchamp and Chris Chambers spotted water ahead and shouted to the others. It was a clear, shining pool created by a beaver dam that had sealed the right end of a large-bore culvert running under the railroad embankment. The beavers had cemented sticks and branches together with leaves, twigs, and dried mud, and their houses—described as looking like wooden igloos—humped up out of the water. A small creek trickled into the far end of the pool, and the bordering trees were gnawed a clean bone-white to a height of almost three feet. Chris noted that the railroad would eventually clean out the dam because the pool could undercut the line, but for the moment, the water was an irresistible temptation in the oppressive heat. Chris was the first to dive in, kicking off his sneakers and stripping off his clothes in a single motion. He came up shaking his head, shouting that it was "fuckin great." Vern Tessio followed, then Gordon. The water was clean and cool, and for a brief time they goofed off, swimming and ducking each other, loving the silky feel of having nothing on but water. They did not know that the pond was full of bloodsuckers.

The Discovery of the Leeches and the Panic

The idyll ended when Vern swam into the shallower part, went under, and stood on his hands. When his legs broke the surface in a shaky but triumphant V, Gordon saw that they were covered with blackish-gray lumps—the same kind of lump he had noticed on Chris's shoulder earlier but dismissed as mud. They were leeches, big ones. Chris's mouth dropped open, and Gordon felt all the blood in his body go as cold as dry ice. Teddy screamed, his face going pale. All three of them thrashed for the bank as fast as they could. The narrative explains that freshwater slugs carry a local anesthetic and an anti-coagulant in their alien saliva, meaning the host never feels a thing when they attach themselves; if unseen, they will feed until their swelled bodies fall off or burst. Teddy went into a hysterical paroxysm as he looked down at himself, screaming as he picked the leeches off his naked body and threw them as far as he could. Vern, still in the water, was puzzled until Teddy screamed the word "Leeches!" and then Vern cried out "OhGodOhGodOhGod!" as he stumbled out. Gordon, trying not to lose control, picked half a dozen leeches off his arms and several more off his chest. He then turned Chris's back to him and pulled five or six more off, describing them as running down his back like grotesque black buttons. He brushed even more off his own legs and had Chris do his back.

The Granddaddy Leech and the Breaking Point

Gordon was starting to relax a little when he looked down at himself and saw the granddaddy of them all clinging to his testicles, its body swelled to four times its normal size, its blackish-gray skin gone a bruised purplish-red. That was when he began to lose control—not outside, at least not in any big way, but inside, where it counts. He brushed its slick, glutinous body with the back of his hand, but it held on. He tried again and could not bring himself to actually touch it. He turned to Chris, unable to speak, and pointed. Chris's cheeks, already ashy, went whiter still. Gordon said through numb lips that he could not get it off and asked Chris to do it, but Chris backed away, shaking his head, his mouth twisted, saying he was sorry but he could not. He turned away, bowed with one hand pressed to his midsection, and was sick in a stand of juniper bushes. Gordon, alone, told himself he had to hold on and get it. He reached down, picked it off, and it burst between his fingers. His own blood ran across his palm and inner wrist in a warm flood. He began to cry. Still crying, he walked back to his clothes and put them on, unable to stop the tears. Then the shakes set in, making it worse. Vern ran up to him, still naked, twirling in front of him like an insane dancer, asking if they were off him. Gordon nodded that they were and just kept on crying, feeling that crying was going to be his new career. Little by little the tears slowed, and then stopped. Chris walked over to him, wiping his mouth with a handful of elm leaves, his eyes wide and mute and apologetic.

Aftermath and Lingering Horror

When they were all dressed, they stood looking at each other for a moment before climbing the railroad embankment. Gordon looked back once at the burst leech lying on top of the tromped-down bushes where they had danced and screamed and groaned them off. It looked deflated, but still ominous. The incident left a permanent scar: Gordon still has a tiny crescent-shaped scar on his testicles from the leech, a scar he later lied to his wife about. The horror of the leeches also triggered a fainting spell a short while later, as waves of whiteness came over his sight and he fell down on the crossties. The others, worried, considered taking him back, but he recovered. The memory of the burst leech returned to him fourteen years later, on his first trip to New York, when he looked down from the Staten Island Ferry and saw scores of used condoms floating on the water. For one second he was literally in the past, pausing halfway up that embankment and looking back at the dead, deflated, but still ominous leech. The incident became a touchstone for the way the most important and horrifying things are the hardest to say, and how words diminish them.