Chapter 1: Moon Trap

When the Mystery Twins (junior edition) had first arrived in Gravity Falls for their third summer there, Dipper had settled back into his routine of a pre-breakfast distance run pretty easily—especially with Wendy Corduroy as his running companion and coach.

Some days they ran downtown—between seven and eight in the morning, they always had very little traffic to contend with—and other times they ran what they called their nature trail, past the Bottomless Pit and then the bonfire glade, through gentle rolling meadows (once heavily wooded, but a forest fire some years back had cleared the trees, Grunkle Stan said) past bushy red-currant plants with their cascades of red flowers and tall grass dotted with violets—both violet and a yellow variety—and other wildflowers, out to Moon Trap Pond, nearly three miles from the Shack, around the pond, and then back home.

"Why's it called Moon Trap Pond?" Dipper asked on one Tuesday morning in June as they topped a hill and in the broad valley ahead the pond came into view, still and blue.

"Mm-oh," Wendy replied. Dipper suspected she had picked up that form of "I don't know" from Mabel.

"No legends or anything?" Dipper asked as they ran downhill toward the waiting quiet water.

"None that I know about, man. Looks sort of funny, though, doesn't it? I mean, not pond shaped at all. More like a great big round mirror. Just about a perfect circle."

"Want to go over and have a closer look?" Dipper asked. They usually did a wide turn around the pond for the sake of adding distance to their run.

"Sure, if you want to."

Deer and perhaps elk, along with the inevitable cottontails and jackrabbits, kept the grass right around the pond nibbled so close it almost looked mowed. A pair of wood ducks, drake and hen, leaped to their feet—well, it was only a two-inch leap for creatures with such short legs, but still—and then took to the sky in alarm at their approach, the male quacking, the female seeming to taunt the human couple by calling them "Weeeeeeak! Weeeeeak!"

Dipper and Wendy paid little attention, and in moments the ducks had flown out of sight. The teens jogged up to the edge of the pond, and Dipper began to feel the goose-flesh prickle on his arms and neck. Even from up close, Moon Trap Pond did look perfectly circular—and perfectly calm. It wouldn't take very much to persuade him that what lay before him wasn't a body of water at all, but a huge mirror reflecting the clear blue sky.

"Must be, like, a spring feeding it," Wendy said. "Funny that there's no little creek running out of it, though. Most springs have outlets."

Dipper shaded his eyes, but he still couldn't penetrate the mirror-like surface of the water. "Wonder if there are any fish in there."

Wendy shrugged. "Probably, dude. They're, like, everywhere. I mean, me and Dad and my brothers have been at these wild campsites where there's like a small creek running over rocks or something? And nine times out of ten, Dad can go catch trout in those skimpy little trickles. 'Course he doesn't use a rod 'n reel. He just intimidates them until they give up and come out with their fins up."

Dipper stretched, working out a minor stitch in his side. "OK to walk for a little way?"

"Sure, dude. Tell the truth, I think you're in pretty great condition now, after a year of this routine. Tomorrow's our next day off, though, so we'll do like a round of the pond just strolling, then run the rest of the way so's not to break training. Deal?"

"Deal," Dipper said. He looked around for a pebble to toss in the pool, but couldn't find one. The centuries of forest growth, and maybe the ashes of the old forest fire, had buried any stones deep beneath the surface. "I wonder if that shape's natural. I mean, I don't think anybody would really come all the way out here and dig a pond or anything, but it's so circular! I guess it might be a sinkhole that filled up with rainwater, or a small meteorite crater—"

He broke off and gave Wendy a quick, guilty look. "I shouldn't have said that. Sorry."

With a sigh and a shake of her head, Wendy replied, "Dip, man, don't obsess over upsetting me when you got back from the crater! I already told you and told you I understand you weren't exactly in your right mind when you yelled at me."

"I still feel bad," he admitted.

Wendy had fumbled in her shorts pocket. "Hey, lookie here. I found a penny. Wanna toss this in?"

Dipper realized she was trying to tease him out of his bad mood, and to a degree it worked. "You do it. And make a wish," he suggested with a grin.

"Might as well! Gravity Falls, man, you never can tell!" She stopped and thought a minute. "OK, I wish that me an' Dipper will get so close that nobody can separate us! How's that?" She tossed the penny in a high arc, and it fell tumbling, flashing copper circles until it plunked far out into the pond.

The water accepted it.

"There you go! Boosh!" Wendy said. "Didn't see any fish jumping, though."

"Me either. Maybe there aren't any."

"I see a frog up ahead there," Wendy said, and the brown frog, speckled with darker brown and peppered with black spots, made a sudden leap into the pond, landing with a gloop!

"Columbia spotted frog. Well, where there's a frog, there's a fish," Dipper told her.

"Weird thing to say, dude."

With a shrug, he said, "Sometimes I have weird thoughts."

They picked up their pace, jogged and then broke into a full run, and headed back to the Shack. They both took quick showers, Dipper upstairs, Wendy in the guest bathroom near Mabel's room and then they dressed and met in the dining room for breakfast. "Hiya, dawgs," Soos said cheerfully from his seat at the table. He was feeding Little Soos oatmeal with banana cut into tiny baby-sized bites in it, and the six-month-old gobbled down cereal and fruit with eager nom-nom sounds.

"He's hanging around Mabel too much," Dipper said, laughing. "Anybody else up?"

Soos was doing the airplane coming in for a landing bit, and the hangar nearly nipped his fingers. "Well, Melody's driving Abuelita into Hirschville for an appointment with her podiatrist, and Mabel's sleepin' in, so for breakfast it's just, like, us."

"OK for me an' Dip to cook up some breakfast?" Wendy asked.

Soos laughed. "Do you even have to ask? Sure thing, Wendy! Make me some too, OK?"

Wendy glanced at Dipper, raising a lazy eyebrow. "Whattaya thinkin', dude? Scrambled eggs, bacon, and—hey!"

Because in perfect harmony with her, Dipper had said, "Scrambled eggs, bacon, and—hey!"

"You were gonna say 'cinnamon roll-ups!'" Wendy said, smiling.

"Yeah, I was! Good guessing. That sound OK, Soos?"

"Sure, dudes, sounds great. Only how about some hash browns to go with it?"

"You got it!" Wendy said. "Dip, come on an' learn how to cook breakfast just the way I—"

She broke off, because Dipper had just said, "Yeah, just the way you like to—huh."

"This is gettin' a tad strange," Wendy said.

Mabel came in, rubbing her eyes and yawning so wide that her uvula dangled and bounced. "That guy really freaks me out," she said, scratching her butt the exact same way that Stan did in the mornings. Her eyes narrowed. She said in a slow, confidential tone, "I used to think he was nice, but I've decided I don't trust anybody who's so normal. That's abnormal! What'd you say you were cooking for breakfast?"

Together, Wendy and Dipper said, "Scrambled eggs, turkey bacon, cinnamon roll-ups, and hash browns."

Mabel laughed. "Aw! You guys are so cute! Sounds good. I'll shower and get dressed while you cook it." She bent over and pulled up Little Soos's shirt, making him squirm and giggle with anticipation. "Good morning, you prince of Oregon, you king of the Northwest Territory!" she said before pressing her lips against his round belly and blowing a farty-sounding raspberry. Soos's son squealed with delight, his voice reaching a pitch that within a three-mile radius set every dog to howling.

In the kitchen, Dipper peeled a half-dozen potatoes while Wendy took a big lump of sourdough from the vat where it fermented. She kneaded it, working in sugar and cinnamon, and then rolled it out and cut it into strips and brushed on melted butter. Dipper diced the peeled potatoes while she got out pots and pans.

"Better make some coffee—" They had both said it simultaneously. Dipper rubbed his arm nervously. "Uh, Wendy? I think—"

She stared at him. "—Moon Trap Pond must have—"

He blinked. "—done something—"

They finished together: "—to us."

And then, also in perfect unison, they said, "Weird!"

"OK," Wendy said, holding up her hand for silence. "Just keep quiet. Let's just cook without talking for a while. It'll probably go away on its own."

So she started the hash browns while Dipper got the coffee maker going. They put the cinnamon roll-ups in the oven, and after a few minutes Dipper cracked a dozen eggs—only four people were eating, but two were Mabel and Soos—and then he chopped some sharp cheddar cheese from a hoop wedge to go in them. He whisked in the cheese, added salt and pepper, then started to cook them over a low flame, carefully keeping them stirred, while Wendy put strips of turkey bacon on the grill.

This is very strange, Dipper thought. We're not even talking but we're doing everything—

"Just like a team," Wendy said aloud. "OK, Dip, this is—"

"—a mystery I have to look into, dude. Oh, man, did I—"

"—just say 'dude?'" Wendy blinked. "An' now you're thinkin' about sex?"

"Can't help it," Dipper groaned. "When I'm—"

"—with me." To his relief, Wendy shrugged. "Hm. Actually, the way you're thinking about it is kind of romantic." She giggled self-consciously. "It's not like I hate it!"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Dipper said. "If this keeps up, you're gonna know—"

"It's OK," Wendy said. "You're gonna know my secret fantasies, too!"

"I'll start trying to figure this out today," Dipper said. "But first—"

"—let's eat. And try to act like everything's—"

"—normal, especially in front of—"

"—Mabel." Wendy shook her head. "Oh, man! I can't tell who's thinking what!"

Dipper swallowed hard. "Uh, are you thinking about, uh, us fooling around in—"

"—the water, yeah, that's one of mine! But you—"

"—can't swim that well. Oh, man, I'm—"

"Don't be sorry, man! I tossed the freaking penny!"

"OK, we have to—"

"—just play it cool—"

"—until I can find a way—"

"—to fix this."

They stared at each other. Then Dipper felt a sudden wave of affection—whether his for her or hers for him he could no longer tell. They impulsively kissed each other. "Mm," she said, pulling back. "Just then I think I could totally—"

"—feel what you're feeling!" Dipper finished for her. "Oh, boy."

Breakfast that morning was a cheerful, but very odd, meal. The good food—and it was very good, even delicious, including Dipper's scrambled eggs, which for a change turned out light and pleasantly fluffy instead of dense and rubbery—the good food distracted Mabel so she didn't ask any awkward questions. Soos didn't need distracting. Food and his son together kept him focused on other things—especially when he tried Little Soos on a bit of scrambled egg, and the youngster loved it.

Mabel hardly looked up from her plate, shoveling eggs and potatoes in, taking not one but three of the fat cinnamon roll-ups and making short work of each, and constantly making her "nom-nom-nom" sounds of appreciation.

Meanwhile Dipper tasted cinnamon—he hadn't yet bitten into his own roll-up, but Wendy had just taken a big bite from hers—and he fought like a hero to avoid thinking of a certain redhead and how terrific she looked in a certain tight-fitting red swimsuit.

He knew he had lost the battle when suddenly she gave him a melting smile and said, "Aw! Wish I'd known then! Heh! 'Best seat in the house!' A joke! Didn't catch it back then. Thank you, man."

Mabel looked up sharply, and Dipper cringed. But all she said was, "More bacon, please!"