Chapter Two: Mystery
Dipper and Mabel descended the stairs stealthily; Mabel had pressed her back against the wall of the stairwell, humming the Mission: Impossible theme under her breath and leaping around like Tom Cruise. Dipper simply walked slowly behind her and stepped on her foot once or twice. Mabel seemed to absolutely radiate energy; her braces flashed in the overhead lights and her hair was frizzy with excitement. Dipper reached up to feel his own hair under his hat only to be disappointed with its dry lifelessness. He pouted. "Dipper, look!" Mabel whispered, tugging his shorts to get him to bend down. She pressed her face between the railings so that her cheeks were puffy and Dipper bent down to peek through the bars to see three shadows in the den – his mother's, his father's and an unidentifiable silhouette. It was rather short and stocky yet well-built at the same time. It seemed, by the outline of his shirt, he was wearing that stained navy blue suit again but this time with a round, flat hat atop his head. He still had a full head of hair.
"What am I looking at, Mabel?" Dipper mumbled, looking down at his sister, but she tapped his cheek to silence him. "Sh! They're talking!" she said, bouncing with glee. And she was right; from the den and across the hall, his parents' voices echoed throughout the house.
"Oh, come on! They'll love me!" An unknown voice burst through the stillness; it was a man's voice, similar to thunder during a storm. Dipper thought it sounded like dragging a stick through gravel, but a thousand times louder. He sighed. "Stan, I don't know…what you do is –" This time the twins' father's voice rang out like a chiming bell, but was quickly interrupted by the unknown voice – Stan.
"Listen, Richard, what I do down at the shack is none of your business and you know it. I've told you countless times not to bring up work. I'm on vacation – so are those kids." Dipper winced. He was twelve years old and still he was being referred to as a kid; he was about to hit puberty! It wasn't fair! Underneath him, his older sister (older by nine seconds) pulled the collar of her sweater over her mouth to muffle her squeals. She let out a little sound like air being released from a balloon.
"The kids still have homework to do."
"Homework? On vacation? Ha!" Dipper winced again; he could tell that his great-uncle's voice was going to grate on him. He took another step down the stairs and made sure he made no sounds before firmly pressing his foot onto the floor. The adults' conversation continued.
"Dipper needs a little work experience, and I think working at the shack would be great for him. He'd make more friends and I'm sure he'd love to travel."
"He's a twelve year old boy. I think the only thing he's worried about is growing chest hair and acne."
"When I was Dipper's age, I already had a job selling vacuums. It wasn't a fun job, but working at the shack would be great for him! We have all kinds of attractions!"
"You mean hacks. They're just animal parts made of plastic glued to other animal parts." His mother's disdainful voice was paired with a sigh, and Stan's voice seemed to falter. "You don't know what goes on down at the shack." Stan's voice was grave. "Things go down in Gravity Falls. Lots of things your little brains couldn't comprehend or even begin to understand. It's almost terrifying how much you –" Crack. Dipper's heart froze as his great-uncle's sentence stopped, and everyone's attention was drawn to the cracking sound coming from the railing on the stairs – the railing Mabel had stuck her face through. Dipper stepped back quickly to see that her cheeks had become wedged between the railings; his heart sunk into the pit of his stomach and he could hear footsteps as the group in the den came rushing to help.
"Mabel! Dipper!" Dipper's mother's voice had risen three octaves. Dipper covered his ears instinctively to avoid the scolding. Dipper's father attempted to dislodge Mabel's face from between the bars, and the final stranger had burst out laughing. Dipper's great-uncle Stan doubled over in a loud fit of laughter, and Dipper felt the need to laugh too. This wasn't the first time Mabel had gotten stuck in something, but it was still scary nonetheless.
"My first time seeing these munchkins since their fourth birthday and they're just as clumsy!" Stan howled, slapping his knee. Dipper rushed to his father's side to grab butter and lube up Mabel's cheeks. Soon she came free with a small pop and she sat on the stairs rubbing her cheeks as they turned even redder and ruddier than before. "What made you two think it was a good idea to snoop?! Why didn't you just come downstairs?!" The angry voice of their father rang out, and Dipper felt his face light up in an embarrassed blush. "I'm sorry, Dad…I didn't mean to. It was Mabel's idea," Dipper began, turning to point at his twin sister, but Mabel was too busy bouncing on her heels in front of Stan. "Is this him?" she asked, poking and prodding at every inch of her great-uncle that she could reach. Glee ignited a fiery red color in her cheeks…or maybe that was the bruises. The twins' mother stood between Stan and Mabel to keep them separated; Mabel stepped back. "Kids, this is big news for all of us. Do you remember last week, when we told you to stay away from the man feeding the squirrels?" Dipper and Mabel nodded simultaneously. Millions of questions filled Dipper's head, while Mabel's filled with ideas of bonding exercises between her and her newly-acquainted great-uncle.
Stan had straightened up and wiped a tear from his eye, adjusting the pair of thick-rimmed glasses on his bulbous nose. "Ah, these kids are precious." Dipper's mother sighed and took a step away from Stan to introduce him properly. "This is your great-uncle, kids. This is Stan." Dipper smiled and started to float in the sea of questions in his head. He finally got to meet the strange man who offered to let him hold a two-headed goat at a family picnic, who promised him oceans of oddities if he convinced his mother to let him spend summer vacation in Gravity Falls, Oregon.