I do not own the show GRAVITY FALLS or any of the characters; both are the property of the Walt Disney Company and of Alex Hirsch. I make no money from these stories but write just for fun and in the hope that other fans enjoy reading them. I will ask, please, do not copy my stories elsewhere on the Internet. I work hard on these, and they mean a lot to me. Thank you.
Among the Missing
(June 2, 2017)
1: Destination Zero
Though Mabel drove faster, Dipper and Wendy kept catching up to her and Grunkle Stan and passing them, only to be passed in turn.
For one thing, Stan wasn't the speedster his grandniece was, and during his stints at the wheel, he stayed behind but within sight of Dipper's new used car, and for another, about every two hours Stan and Mabel stopped to walk Tripper. So far he had no accidents in their car—well, now just Mabel's car, and Mabel didn't intend for him to start.
The four stopped once, in northern California for lunch, at a restaurant with outside tables where a leashed Tripper was welcome. They weren't rushed, and they got to the Oregon border in mid-afternoon.
Talking of prospective camping trips and places to explore in the coming summer, Dipper and Wendy had just passed through the medium-sized town of Bend, only a little more than an hour from the Falls. Soon they bypassed Morris and then were on the real home stretch. That was when Dipper's phone rang. He was at the wheel, though, and couldn't answer. "That's Grunkle Ford's ring tone," he said. "Can you get that? I forgot to power up my Bluetooth—"
"Got it," Wendy said, reaching across and fishing Dipper's cell phone out of his shirt pocket. "Hi, this is Mr. Dipper Pines's secretary, he's busy at the moment—Oh, hi, Dr. P. What's the matter? You sound—huh? Why? OK, sure, I'll tell him. Yes, in the rear, I understand—What? Well, last time they passed us, like five minutes ago, I saw that Mabel was driving, so I'd call Stan. Yeah, sure—but—well, OK."
"What's up?" Dipper asked.
"He wouldn't say," Wendy told him. "Something weird, I guess. Anyhow, he wants us not to go directly to the Falls, but to stop at his Institute. Man, it's just like us to be planning a great summer and have something come along and ruin it first thing. Gravity Falls's way of welcoming us back."
"If Ford's upset, it must be something paranormal," Dipper muttered. "I hope it's not too bad–"
"Watch the road, Dipper. We need to find a place to turn around."
"All right," Dipper said. "The intersection's only like twenty minutes from here, and it's not too far out of the way. Something really strange must be up. Unless—" he chuckled. "I think I know."
"What?" Wendy asked.
"Surprise graduation party!" Dipper said. "That's got to be it. You're in on it, aren't you?"
"No, man. Ford sounded pretty upset."
"Put your hand on my neck and tell me that," Dipper said in a teasing way.
Wendy cupped her warm palm against his neck. Straight up, dude, I don't know anything about a party. And Ford sounded a little, um, anxious and scared. It's got me worried.
With that skin-to-skin contact, Dipper immediately knew that Wendy wasn't kidding. A pang of remorsesent a twinge through his heart.
—Oh. I'm sorry, Wendy, I—oh, my gosh, what's happening, then? It must be something intense for Ford to warn us off. The werewolves? Think they've invaded the Valley? Or maybe—
Dude, pull over. There on the shoulder, before you get to the bridge. Come on, pull over and let me drive. Your heart rate's way up there. Seriously, I don't want you to smash up you new wheels 'cause you're anxious. Let me drive, OK?
—Yeah, OK.
Dipper pulled his Land Runner—he had not christened it, the way Mabel had immediately named their Carino Helen Wheels—off onto the broad shoulder. It looked like one of those spots where trout fishermen pulled off to climb down the bank to the stream, Graccius Fork as it was called—pronounced like "Gracious"—to stalk the elusive trout.
He parked, checked the rear-view to make sure nothing was coming up from behind, and climbed out as Wendy went around back. He got in on the passenger side, and she took the wheel. "Seatbelt, Dip."
He had already clicked the latch. "Got it. Go. Maybe I should call Ford."
"Yeah, I think maybe so." Wendy started the engine, checked for oncoming traffic, and they crossed the bridge. "Tell him we ought to be there in, like, a quarter hour." Not far north of the bridge she found a pull-off wide enough to let her safely reverse course.
As she started back southward, Dipper tried the call. Ford's phone went directly to voice mail. Trying not to sound flustered, Dipper said, "I think it's busy. I guess I can wait until we get there. I'll be glad to stretch my legs a little, anyhow."
At about the same moment, Stan's phone chimed. Grumbling a little, he reached into his jacket pocket, dragged it out, and answered: "Stanley Pines here. If you're trying to sell anything, forget it. Who's this?"
"Stanley, it's me!"
"Ford?" Stan asked. "How can it be? The real Ford would say—"
"It is I, Stanley!"
Stan snorted. "Yep, that's Mr. Stanford Grammar Pines, all right. Hi. You already get home? We're about fifteen minutes from—"
"No, listen," Stanford said. "I want you to turn around and go back to the fork. Take the Morris Road and come to the Institute for Anomalous Sciences. It's urgent. Park out back."
Stan blinked. "Huh? Listen, we're way past that already, Mabel's drivin', and her dog's getting' all excited 'cause he knows we're gettin' close to the Shack. Can't this wait?"
"What?" Mabel asked. "Can't what wait? A surprise welcome party? Ooh, no, wait, great idea! A surprise graduation party! I always wanted a surprise party! I hope there's cake. Is there cake? What kind of icing? I like buttercream! Are my bffs gonna be there? Sure, they're gonna be there! Is there ice cream?"
"Sweetie, just a sec," Stan pleaded. Then he said into the phone, "OK, Sixer, I'll tell her and I guess we'll do it. But what in the hey is—"
"Do you have any money on you?" Stanford abruptly asked.
Stan blinked. "Don't tell me you've been kidnapped! I got walkin' around dough, but I ain't got enough on me for ransom—"
"Stanley! How much—wait, first have Mabel turn the car around."
"We're nearly at the entrance to the Valley," Stan said. "We'll wheel in there and turn around. Safer."
"Grunkle Stan?" Mabel asked.
Stan said, "Just a second, Sweetie. Hey, at the turn-off to the Falls, do a uey and head back south, the way we just came."
Ford's insistent voice: "How much actual cash do you have, Stanley?"
Mabel, sounding really scared for some reason: "Grunkle Stan!"
Stan waved her off. "Can't take my wallet out right now and count, but I guess between a hundred-fifty and two hundred, but what in the heck—?"
"Grunkle Stan!" Mabel yelled. "Where's Gravity Falls?"
"Pumpkin, I'm talkin' to Ford—wait, what?" Stan blinked, not able to believe what he saw through the windshield.
The landscape was as familiar as the back of his hand. Almost everything looked just the same. They had just passed the home of the oddball retired Admiral who had a miniature military museum on his lawn. And he spotted the big boulder off to the left. The familiar tall firs lined the highway, interspersed with pines. In fact, only one thing had changed.
Stan saw, but could not believe, that no road turned off to the west. To his left in the breaks between tall pines, he could see only dark basaltic bluffs, their crests sprouting green pines. No overhanging cliffs, between them where the old trestle used to be, no metal sign saying WELCOME TO GRAVITY FALLS.
"Ford, what the heck is goin' on?" Stan asked. "Mabel, you didn't accidentally drive past—?"
Mabel said, "No! What did you say? Go back?"
"Uh, yeah, Ford wants us to meet him at his school—"
Ford again: "Stanley, does Mabel have any cash?"
"Huh?"
"Ask her, Stanley!"
Stan relayed the question to Mabel.
"Cash? Oh, yeah," she said in a worried voice. She reached a straightaway, pulled off on the right shoulder, and wrenched Helen Wheels around so they were driving south, fish-tailing a little. "Graduation presents. About five hundred bucks, but that's—"
"She says five hundred," Stan told his brother.
"Good. I forgot to ask Mason, but when he and Wendy get here, I'll see what they have."
"Why do you got to have cash money, Sixer?" Stan bellowed.
"What? Oh. To pay the motel bill. Our credit cards aren't working. I'm even surprised that my computer phone is functional. Luckily, Fiddleford and Mayellen were out of the Valley when it happened. I got in touch with them—"
Stan all but bellowed, "When what happened?"
"I'll tell you," Ford said, "when you get here." A pause. "Stanley—don't be surprised at anything you see!"
"What the heck?" Dipper said as his car rattled over a rusty chain that had been unlocked from two iron pillars and left lying across the deteriorating asphalt driveway.
"Where are all the buildings?" Wendy asked.
"I—don't know!"
Stanford Pines had launched his Institute of Anomalous Studies on the site of an abandoned high-school building. And that was what they saw—no dorms, no other new buildings, just the derelict high school, a forlorn brick structure, obviously not in great shape, standing amid a forest of tall weeds and scraggly saplings. Wendy said, "He told me we should park behind."
Behind the school was a former loading area for the school cafeteria. Now it was hardly more than random pans of blacktop ground down into the earth, rank weeds colonizing every crack and crevice. Ford's Lincoln stood parked there, and Wendy pulled up beside it. As they were getting out of the car, he and Wendy heard another approaching, and in a moment the fluorescent green Carino, Helen Wheels, came into sight. Mabel didn't really park, just braked diagonally behind the Land Runner and shut off the engine.
Stan got out of the passenger side, and Tripper leaped out his door, too. Mabel stood beside the driver's side door, shaking a little. "Brobro, what the heck's going on?"
"Don't know," Dipper said. "Maybe Grunkle Ford can explain."
They had to wait for Tripper to water a couple of clumps of weeds, and then they went to the loading-dock door. It was unlocked. They stepped into the musty-smelling hallway.
"Wow," Dipper said, his voice echoing the way voices do in an empty building. "It sure looks different from the Institute!"
Wendy reflexively flipped the light switches, but nothing happened.
"No juice," Stan said. "It's OK, there's some light leakin' in from the glass doors."
Nothing was quite the same as Dipper remembered. But they found the main hall, went down it between ranks of rusting lockers, their doors hanging open, and down to the room that bore a flaking sign above the door: PR N IP L. Dipper remembered it as Room 101, really a suite of rooms: a reception area, a conference room, and Ford's office—he was President of the Institute.
The outer door was locked. A shadow loomed on the door's frosted-glass window, and Ford's voice boomed through it: "Who's there?"
"It is I," Stan said. "Still sounds wrong. Open up, Ford, it's me and the kids!"
They heard a key turn, and a haggard-looking Stanford Pines opened the door. "Thank God you're all right, at least. Something utterly incredible has happened. Or un-happened."
"What is it?" Dipper asked.
"Come into my–well, into the office, please." Ford had obviously pillaged a few abandoned rooms for furniture. Five rickety wooden chairs stood inside on a floor scattered with a fall of plaster and grit. Daylight struggled through the broken and bent slats of Venetian blinds on the front window. Standing in front of a decrepit old desk, Ford said, "Be seated please. I'll try to explain, and then I'll need to borrow some money—"
"I got a hundred or so," Wendy said.
"I have six hundred and twenty," Dipper volunteered.
"Well—I'll need about two hundred to secure the motel rooms. Dipper, your accounts are in Piedmont, so your bank cards should still be working. I—forgive me, I'm thoroughly shaken. Let me put this as simply as I can. Gravity Falls no longer exists."
"What?" Dipper asked.
Mabel started to shake. "We saw it was gone," she whispered.
"The Valley is not there," Ford said. "It's as if the alien craft never crashed, never blasted out the crater that over millions of years became the Valley. So—many things concerned with it have changed, too. My Institute, as you see, was never built. Fortunately, I never throw anything away, and I have the original keys, which still work—"
"Yeah, we're so lucky!" Stan growled. "Look Sixer, does this mean—no Mystery Shack? No Soos? Our houses are gone?"
"My family?" Wendy asked, her voice panicked. "Oh, my God, what's happened to Dad and the boys?"
"I—I'm not certain about anyone who lived there, or even what this event means," Stanford said. "But the cash you lend me will buy us at least a little time. We'll have to find out—and soon. I surmise that, being outside the boundary of the Valley at the moment when whatever did happen happened, we retain our memories of the reality we know. However, that may change! We must act fast, before the time comes when we're unable to recall that there ever was such a place as Gravity Falls!"