Summer Souvenirs

(August 16, 2015)


From the Journals of Dipper Pines: Wendy and I walked back to the shack, the beach blanket sort of folded up and under my arm, at 1:20 in the morning. Woodstick had finally closed for the night. A few more acts are going to play this morning, and at about 1:00 in the afternoon, they'll fold everything up and drive away until next year. Wendy and I plan to use our VIP seats again tomorrow, or rather later today—as I'm writing this, it's nearly 3 AM, and I'm still not sleepy!

Anyway, as we got to the parking lot, Teek's silver car pulled in. "Mabel's out past curfew!" I said.

Wendy, sounding amused, asked, "Oh, really? What deadline do your folks set?"

"Eleven," I said. "On weekends, eleven. Nine-thirty on school nights. And it's Mom, not both our parents, who lays down the law on that."

"Good thing your mom's not here, then," Wendy said as Teek parked. He got out on the driver's side and started around the car—I think he was going to open the door for Mabel—but before he got there, the passenger door popped open and she bounced out and came running toward us. "That concert was beyond legendary! It reached MYTHOLOGICAL status! Wasn't it great? Brobro, why are you carrying a beach blanket? What have you been up to, you rumptumblers, you?"

"What?" I asked. "What did you call us?"

"Chill," Wendy said. "Mabes, Dip an' me had some serious things to talk over, so we went out to the clearing and just laid down, looked at the stars, and talked, that's all. Well, kissed some, too, but we tumbled no rumps."

I was still a little upset. "Mabel, where did you even get that word?"

"Hey," Mabel said, "I don't ask where you get YOUR words, do I? Hmmm?"

Teek put his arm around Mabel. "I think you're getting on Dipper's nerves," he said in a soothing tone.

"Meh," Mabel said, "If not him, who CAN I tease? Kiss me, Teek!"

They clinched and kissed for a long time. I looked away. Bugs whirled around the lights up on the poles in the parking lot, and bats dived in and had a midnight snack.

Nobody was sleepy. We sat in the yellow light of the big lantern on the edge of the front porch, outside the Museum, where we wouldn't wake anybody up, and talked for a while, me snuggled next to Wendy, Teek next to Mabel. "Gonna be a long dry stretch," Mabel moaned. "Teek, couldn't you drive down to Piedmont every other week or two?"

"I don't think I could afford the gas," Teek said. "It's close to 1200 miles, there and back. It'd take me twenty-four hours of driving just to make the round trip! Then we wouldn't have more than a day together."

"Not practical," Wendy agreed. "But Dip and me were talking about maybe another Thanksgiving in Gravity Falls. He says your folks want to have Christmas at home this year."

"Mom does," Mabel said, sounding a little resentful. "We're having Grunkles Stan and Ford down, and Graunties Lorena and Sheila. I'd much rather come up here, but you can't tell Mom anything."

I told Mabel about the idea of our trying to see if we could come back for the days between Christmas and January 4, when our school started again. "Soos and his family are all going on a vacation to Mexico," I said.

That was the first she'd heard of it. Wendy explained that Soos wanted his wife and kids to meet Abuelita's relatives, and this year they were in good shape to take a two-week vacation. It's not like that would cut into business. The Shack would be closed until April, anyway. "They need a caretaker, though," Wendy said. "Somebody to keep the lights on make sure the plumbing doesn't freeze. I'll probably do it, but it would be great if you guys could come up and—"

"Smooch Teek for over a week!" Mabel said. "Turn the Mystery Shack in to the Love Shack! Yes!"

"That was actually not the idea," I said. "No offense, man."

Teek shrugged. He's used to Mabel by now.

She was bouncing around on another tangent: "Oh! Oh! I didn't tell you! Pacifica was at Woodstick tonight. I got her and her date into your VIP seats—you don't mind, do you—after you left!"

"I don't mind," I said. "Adam, huh?"

"No, no, that's the cool thing," Mabel said. "Adam couldn't make it, so she came solo, but I fixed her up with this neat guy that I know from three years back, and he's perfect for her, all cultured and smooth and everything! His name's Dirk, he's gorgeous, he's got old-school manners, he's crazy about blondes, and he's a vampire."

I slapped my forehead. "Burying the lede, Mabel!"

"A REAL vampire?" Teek asked, sounding surprised. "He didn't say anything about that! I mean, I saw he was pale—"

Mabel overrode him: "Yeah! But it's cool! He's a vegetarian vampire! I met him when I was twelve and he was sixteen—"

I remembered that Mabel had once upon a time told me she'd run into a couple of cute vampires. I'd thought she was kidding. "Wait, what?" I said. "A VEGETARIAN vampire? Seriously? How does that even make sense?"

"Well, that might not be the right word. He and his folks don't drink HUMAN blood. They live on, like, you know, uh, beef blood and sheep blood and stuff. They raise their own animals and don't even slaughter them. Just tap them. Like milking!"

"Not very much like milking," Teek said, sounding queasy.

"Anyway, Pacifica's sixteen, he's still sixteen, so it's a great match! Now she'll always have something to do after dark!"

"Yeah," Wendy said, "until she's, like, thirty and he's still sixteen!"

She and I were holding hands, and I thought –Ouch!

Wendy sent a thought back to me: Lot more difference between thirty and sixteen than between eighteen and sixteen, Dip! I never notice OUR age difference any more!

Of course, Mabel didn't hear any of that. "I never thought of that," she murmured. "Yeah, might be a long-term problem, there."

We talked a little more about how we were going to miss each other until next year. We started reminiscing about the summer, you know how you do: "Remember that one time when," and "Hey, did I ever tell you about the night," and all that. We laughed, but it was sort of sad, too, letting go of the summer days.

It was getting real late, and Teek had to go, but before he left, he went to his car and came back with something. "I was going to give you this on your birthday," he said, handing the wrapped package to Mabel. "But since we're getting kind of sentimental, and this is, I guess, a souvenir—here. This is for you."

She unwrapped it under the porch light. It was a photo album—Teek had been taking tons of photos all summer, and he'd filled the book with them, pictures of about everything he and Mabel had done together. "Aw, I love it!" Mabel said, clutching it to her chest. "I have something for you too, but you'll have to wait for it until I can wrap it. Monday?"

Monday's our off day at the Shack.

"You don't have to," Teek said.

She held onto his arm. "I want to. Don't leave yet. First let's go for a little walk. Yoink!" She snatched the beach blanket from me.

"Don't go too far," Wendy warned. "And stay covered! Mosquitoes are bad tonight!"

"And be good!" I told them.

Then my Magic Girl and I had a few good-night kisses. She rested her forehead against mine. "Dipper, man, I'll see you tomorrow. We'll go back to Woodstick for the big finish. And then Monday let's spend more time together."

"I'd love that," I said.

"But remember also on Monday—we start running again! I'll be over here seven o'clock Monday morning, and I'll expect you dressed out and in your running shoes!"

"Then we'd better get some sleep," I told her.

One last kiss, and then inside, and now I'm just about to


Dipper woke up sore and stiff at 5:30 Sunday morning. He had fallen asleep sitting at the table he used for a desk, the last sentence unfinished and his face lying on his Journal. He got up and staggered to the bed for another couple of hours of much-needed sleep.

When he woke again at 7:30, he got up, showered and dressed, and went down to find everyone else already at breakfast. They teased him about staying out so late. Mabel looked a little down. "What's wrong, Sis?" Dipper asked.

"Aw, Teek called me a few minutes ago. He sort of got chewed out for coming home at nearly three in the morning," she said. "His dad and mom are gonna let him go to Woodstick this morning, since we already have tickets, but then he's grounded for the rest of the week. He can't go out after seven in the evenings. It's all my fault. I should've let him go home earlier, but I got sort of jacked up over the music and all, and then it's so horrible that we probably won't see each other until next June, unless—oh, you know."

"Yeah," he said. "I know."

He'd been thinking. "Soos," he said, "listen, man, can I borrow some of the sound equipment you use at dances and things?"

"Sure, dawg," Soos said cheerfully. "Any time. What's up?"

"Well—I want to give Wendy a souvenir of this summer. I was thinking about recording a kind of album for her of some of the songs I've written—"

"You gonna put the one about me and Weirdmageddon in?" Soos asked eagerly.

Dipper smiled. "Sure, 'Handyman of the Apocalypse,' why not. And I'll do a new cut of our song, the one I wrote for her, and I've got about five or six others. Funny I haven't made up any new ones this summer, but it's been hectic. I have one in mind, though, about when we went hunting for Mermando's wife. Maybe I can put it together. Anyhow, between now and the end of the month, I'd like to record them, and I'd like them to sound as good as possible."

"I'll help out," Soos said. "I'll be, like, the Sound Editor of Destiny!"

"Great," Dipper said.

"I've made Teek seven sweaters," Mabel said. "But nobody say anything to him! That's a big secret until tomorrow! But in the winter when we're apart, I want to keep him warm every day of the week."

"That's so nice!" Melody told her.

They had just finished when Wendy breezed in, dressed more conservatively than she had been the day before. "No leather pants for me?" Dipper asked her, secretly relieved.

"Nope," she said. "We made our fashion statement yesterday. So today, just sort of casual." She herself wore a scoop-necked top, bright red, over laddered jeans.

Mabel put her hand on Dipper's shoulder. "Go ahead and wear a V-neck," she told him softly with a broad smile. "It's the last day of Woodstick. I won't make fun of you."

"Or you could try a W-neck, dude," Soos suggested, hope in his voice.

The music was due to start at ten. A somewhat subdued Teek showed up, the four got together, and they rode the first tram over to the concert, feeling sad that the summer was ending, but happy that they were together for at least a few more days.


The End