Trans Pacifica

Chapter 1

"So why can't I just pay somebody to win these games for me?" Pacifica Northwest pouted, jigging the joystick and frowning at the console screen.

"Ha!" Mabel glanced sideways from her game controller. "Good one, Pacifica! Oh, wait, you weren't joking, were you?"

"Should I say, like 'Smiley Face!' before I make a joke so you can tell?"

"Yeah. That would help."

"NO Smiley Face," Pacifica replied as her game made the discouraging you-lost sound of deedle-dum-dee-dum-dum. "Seriously, this is so boring!"

"Well, don't play 'Petty Larceny Auto,'" Mabel suggested. "This one's better. It's called 'Shoe-ray!' In it you shop for shoes!"

"But I have people to do that for me," Pacifica complained, standing behind Mabel to watch. "Let's do something else. It smells like boys' deodorant and feet in here."

On a weekday afternoon in July, the arcade wasn't nearly full, but even with only a dozen kids at the consoles the racket filled the air: dings and bleeps, buzzes and the skid of tires, machine-gun fire and the chuckle of friendly little elves, depending on what was being played.

"Just a second, just a second," Mabel said, her tongue lodged in the corner of her mouth. "Gotta get to the counter first . . . come on, come on, run up the down escalator . . . . YES! Sales table! Fight my way through these screaming middle-aged women—Ha! Those ballet flats are MINE, sucka! New high score! New high score!" She manipulated the joystick to enter her initials as Pacifica tapped her foot impatiently. "MAP? So what's your middle name?"

"The A's not my middle name, silly," Mabel chuckled. "It stands for AWESOME!" She turned away from the game and leaned on the console, fanning her face with both hands. "Whew! That was intense! You wanna try this one?"

"No, thank you," Pacifica said. "I just don't see the attraction."

Mabel shrugged. "OK. People like different things. Next let's do something you like to do. What's that?"

"Well—ride my pony. Dance with a hot boy. Umm . . . read the financial section of the newspaper . . . ."

"Whaaat? You don't like to do any kid-type stuff? You ought to do some retroactive silly things, Pacifica. We're thirteen. We won't be able to get away with kid stuff for much longer. Do it before it's too late! Do it! Do it! Do it!"

Pacifica interrupted her chant: "Sheesh, calm down! Let's go have a soda or something."

"OK!"

"But not a Pitt's!"

"Oh, man! You really have a limited definition of fun, Pacifica!"

"Well—if you had my family, you'd understand."

A few minutes later they sat in the soda shop, sipping on their drinks—a CoCoNutz Fizz for Mabel and a chocolate frappe for Pacifica. "Having a good summer?" Mabel asked between gulps.

Pacifica shrugged. "So-so. I actually like our new house out in the country. Dad's not leaning on me so hard now—he's trying to rebuild his fortune, and he's always busy at the office. Mom's Mom. If I'm not bleeding from my ears and nose, she assumes I'm happy." She sighed. "I miss my other ponies. I mean, Desperado is the best one of the bunch, and I got to keep him, but we had to sell the others . . . and then I guess I found out that some of my friends liked my money better than they liked me. Dad sold the big boat, so now when we go to the lake, we just swim, and suddenly Brittany and the other girls are always too busy to go with me."

"I'll go to the beach with you some time," Mabel said. "And so would Dipper, I bet. And maybe Grenda and Candy . . . but they're a little scared of you."

Pacifica gave her a sharp look. "Scared of me? What 's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, you remember last summer? You know, you won the dance-off and the party crown? And you kinda . . . well, kinda made fun of them."

Pacifica sighed. "Yes, I guess I did. Before all that crazy ghost stuff happened, it was hard for me to think of other people as being people, really."

"Yeah," Mabel said. "Poor Sergei."

"Oh, he's okay," Pacifica said. "He escaped from the miniature golf course eventually. Bill Cipher captured him during the never-mind-about-all-that, but he was freed with the others. I think he's gone to New York. He wants to be a dancer in a Broadway show for some weird reason."

"Well, you intimidated Grenda and Candy."

"Tell them I'm sorry, OK? I'm ruining your day too, now, aren't I? I'd probably better go home."

"What? The day is young! Hey, speaking of Sergei, how about a round of miniature golf, no cheating this time?"

"No, thank you!" With a shiver, Pacifica said, "Those little golf-ball people weird me out! And Dad's lawyer said I couldn't even sue them, 'cause they're not human."

"Yeah, I had the same problem with Gnomes," Mabel said. "Attempted kidnapping, but I let it blow over. Grunkle Stan doubted that any lawyer would touch the case, and even if we won, he said, Gnomes don't have any money to pay damages. And I actually sort of like them now. I mean, I wouldn't want to marry a bunch of them, but they're really OK down deep."

"You are a strange girl," Pacifica said.

"Thank you!"

They both laughed. "Sometimes I wish I could trade places with you," Pacifica admitted with a shake of her head. "I mean, get to stay at the Shack, no rules, people who'd really pay attention to me at home, all that junk. Your great-uncle was really kind to me when we all had to shelter there from Bill Cipher and all his craziness. Plus, I'd like the chance to hang around with Dipper and all. I shouldn't tell you this, but I kind of had a crush on him for a little while there. It's so strange! I don't understand it myself. He's not the kind of boy I'm attracted to at all—not tall, not really good-looking, not a smooth dancer, and he dresses—well, you know."

"Preachin' to the choir, sister," Mabel said. "I don't know how many cool sweaters I've knitted for him. Dozens. I think he wore two of them, one time each. And he still wears the same clothes for too many days at a time." She sipped the last of her soda and then asked, "So—you're not interested in him any longer?"

Unhappily, Pacifica shrugged. "Oh, I don't know. Not romantically, I guess, but I'm kind of wondering about him. He can be so sweet sometimes. And brave. And he's kind of a dork, but smart."

"Yep, you got him pegged. I mean, I love him like a brother, but he's such a nerd sometimes. Not like me. Just between you and me, I can sometimes get a little silly," Mabel said, jamming two soda straws up her nose.

Pacifica stared at her. "No!"

"It's true!" Mabel pinched her nose and was able to produce a sustained C note through the straws. "Ouchie!" She took them out, a couple of tears leaking from her eyes. "Worth it! Anyway, Dipper is hardly ever silly. Too serious, most of the time, that's his trouble. So, you know, together we balance out. He gives me a dose of reality when I need it, and I drive him nuts when he needs it." She rubbed her nose. "That's gonna sting for a while," she said. "I've never in my life ridden a pony. Is it fun?"

"I love it. Desperado is the best of all the ones I've ever had. He really enjoys running all-out, and it's very exciting to be in the saddle."

"Hmm. Y'know, I really do love animals. Just askin', Pacifica, but would you really like to trade places with me? Like for just one day?"

"Oh, sure, like that could happen," Pacifica said, smiling.

"Well," Mabel said with a wicked grin, "there is this carpet . . . . "

When they got to the Shack, Wendy told them that Dipper was off in the woods somewhere, trying to track down the elusive and fabled Venus' Woodpecker Trap, a carnivorous plant that grew to huge size and lived on attracting, ingesting, and absorbing woodpeckers.

They found Soos making new labels for some of the exhibits. As usual, he greeted them cheerfully: "'Sup, dawgs?"

Mabel said, "Soos, I'm real worried about Dipper. I think he's planning some strange experiment with that body-switching carpet, remember? The one that put you into Waddles's body for a while."

"Whoosh, dude, how could I forget! Even though parts of it were a lot of fun. Not the part where Old Man McGucket wanted to turn me into bacon, though. So why's Dipper wantin' to fool with that thing?"

"Who knows?" Mabel asked. "But you won't let him get it, will you?"

"No way, José!" Soos shrugged. "But don't worry about it, Hambone. It's like hidden where he can never find it."

"I don't know," Mabel said. "Dipper's pretty good at finding things."

"Yeah, but Stan rolled it up and stuck it in the attic storage closet," Soos said. "That thing is like triple-locked."

"And the keys are hidden well?" Mabel asked.

"Oh, sure! I like taped 'em to the bottom of the cash-register drawer. Nobody'll ever find 'em there."

"Good work, Soos! High five!"

Pacifica said, "Uh, yeah, you're like some kind of savant genius, uh, Soos."

"It's a blessing and a curse," Soos said solemnly. "Hey, Pacifica, high five? Don't leave me hangin'."

Gritting her teeth, Pacifica gave him a hand slap.

Back in the gift shop, Mabel asked Wendy, "Slow, isn't it? Gettin' bored there? Hey, I'll watch the counter for you if you'd like to take a break."

Wendy, never one to turn down such an offer, gave her a thumbs up. "Thanks, Mabes! I would like to stretch my legs and get a snack. Be back in a couple hours!"

Then it was quick work to hit the "No Sale" tab, pop out the drawer, and peel off the tape.

The real problem was finding time to do the rest of it. Sporadic tourists came wandering into the museum and the gift shop. Melody came through making a list of things to restock. Abuelita came in and vacuumed and talked to them about her telenovelas and the new women's club she and Gideon Gleeful's mother had recently formed. Its badge was a brass vacuum cleaner. And Soos led groups of tourists in from the museum and pitched the merch, as he'd learn to call it from Grunkle Stan. Pacifica and Mabel rang up the sales and explained to Soos that they were just covering for Wendy for a few minutes.

Finally, though, the afternoon lull came, Wendy returned and thanked them by giving them a bag of Mabel's favorite candies, and they were able to duck into the hallway and up the stairs to the second floor, then to the attic.

Properly speaking, the storage closet opened in the wall to the left just at the top of the stair; the attic room that Mabel and Dipper had shared was a few steps across the landing. Mabel quickly unlocked all three locks, including a padlock. They opened the door and saw the rolled-up carpet propped inside against the wall. A lot of other junk cluttered the closet—it was long, running back for ten or twelve feet, but the ceiling was sharply slanted (it was just the underside of the roof) and the closet was only about six feet wide.

"Okay, let's do it," Pacifica said.

They hauled out the carpet, unrolled it on the landing, and she asked, "Now what do we do?"

Mabel explained, "Just shuffle our feet on it, then touch each other. It hits you like a static-electricity shock."

"Ew!"

"C'mon. It doesn't hurt. Much."

They shuffled around in a circle. "Now," Mabel said. "High five!"

Slap. CRACK!

Mabel sat up, looking stunned. Or Mabel's body did. Pacifica's body asked, "So how'd it go, Pacifica?"

"Oh. My. God." She held up her hands, then pulled out the sweater and stared down at the appliqué of a pink pig. "I'm you!"

"Let's get this thing rolled up and stashed away before somebody finds us," Mabel said.

Pacifica wailed, "Be careful! Don't get dust on my clothes!"

The two girls rolled the carpet back up, tied it with twine, and stuffed it back into the closet. "I'm gonna close the door and hang the padlock again, but I won't lock it," Mabel said. "Look, if I boost you up, can you unscrew that one light bulb? Dipper'll think it burned out, and he's way too lazy to replace it. That'll keep him from noticing the padlock's not really closed."

"Let me boost you," she said. "I think this body's stronger than mine is."

But that was no good—they couldn't reach the bulb. Mabel went into the attic bedroom and came back with a tall wooden chair. "Hold this steady," she said, and she climbed onto the chair bottom, then up the ladder-rungs of the back, until she could reach up and unscrew the bulb. "Ow! Hot, hot, hot!"

"Don't burn my fingers!"

"Got it." Darkness fell—not complete because of the light from downstairs and from the triangular attic window, but losing the light made the attic landing gloomy. Mabel clambered down and replaced the chair.

As the two girls headed downstairs, Dipper came hustling in and started up, two steps at a time. He stopped when he noticed them. "Uh—hi, Pacifica."

"Hello, Sir Dippingsauce!"

He blinked. "Sir—Mabel, don't tell Pacifica about all the silly names you call me!"

Mabel blinked at him. "Oh, forgive me, brother. I won't make that mistake again."

Dipper shook his head. "You are freaking me out, Sis."

Pacifica said, "Dipper, we were just looking for you. We wanted to see if you might wanta do something. Maybe play a round of mini-golf on the course we made?"

"Not right now," Dipper said. "I want to make some notes in my Journal."

Pacifica shrugged. "Cool beans. Mind if we get the golf clubs and balls? They're under your bed."

"Huh, no, you—wait, how did you know where they are?"

Mabel said, "Don't get mad at Pacifica, brother dear. I told her."

Dipper closed his eyes. "Fine. Go get the clubs and the golf balls and clubs. And please, Mabel—don't give me any more of this weirdness."

Mabel started to speak, but Pacifica nudged her, and they got the clubs and the balls and went out as Dipper settled down with his Journal.

Wendy was away from the counter, and nobody was in the gift shop, so Mabel—in Pacifica's body—quickly replaced the keys.

The girls played nine holes of mini-golf, but they were so excited that they paid no attention to keeping score. They exchanged vital information—Pacifica gave Mabel the code for unlocking her phone (1MFABuLOU$), and Mabel made Pacifica practice calling Dipper "Brobro" and told her about Dipper's ticklish spots in case of emergency.

While this was going on, Waddles meandered over and Mabel insisted that Pacifica had to pet him and showed her how to scratch his ears the way he liked. Waddles didn't seem to notice any difference, which they took as a good sign.

As they golfed, the girls took turns instructing each other on how to behave. In Mabel's body, Pacifica said, "Oh, please. I think I can fool Dipper!"

"But remember," Mabel told her, "you're sleeping in the guest room, past the stairway on the first floor, then second door on the left, now. I stopped sharing the attic room with Dipper last month."

"Why?"

Mabel gave her a mischievous grin. "I think you'll find out tomorrow!"