Chapter 2: Happy Landings
(December 26, 2015)
"Yum," Mabel remarked. "Rich people water!" She poured the Ivien Springs Mineral Water from its little bottle into her cup, swirled it around, sniffed it, made a circle with the thumb and index finger of her free hand, and said, "Oo-la-la! C'est si bon! C'est tres chic, oui oui."
"Yeah, it's OK," Dipper said as she knocked the glass back.
She waved the empty bottle and trilled, "Attendez-moi! Une autre bouteille d'eau, s'il vous plaît!"
Wincing at her accent, Dipper said, "You know, Sis, if you ever go to Paris, an angry mob will come after you with torches and pitchforks."
The flight attendant brought another bottle of mineral water, but asked, "Are you sure, miss? I think you've had enough already."
"I'll tell you when I've had enough!" Mabel said, taking the small bottle from her. She handed it to Dipper. "Hold this, Brobro. I need to go to the little girls' can again."
She unbuckled her lap belt and made her way back to the first-class restroom, which was only one row behind them. The attendant asked, "Is she always like this?"
"Just after she's had nine bottles of water," Dipper said quietly. "When she gets back, I'll tell her this is the last bottle aboard the plane."
"Thank you, sir!"
Mabel came back after five minutes. "Ugh! I not only peed, I puked! Ever puked into an airline toilet, Dip? You have to be a contortionist! Where's my water?"
"Make it last," Dipper said. "This is the last one they had in the pantry."
"Oh, great," Mabel said, opening the bottle and not bothering with the glass. "A girl could die of dehydration."
"Don't think so," Dipper said. "Not this time. The nose of the plane's slanting down, which means we're probably about—"
The pilot's voice on the P.A. cut in: "Ladies and gentlemen, this is Captain Mitchell. We're beginning our initial approach to Portland, Oregon, so I'm gonna ask you to secure your seat belts, close the trays and latch them, and return your seat backs to the upright and locked position. Flight attendants, prepare for approach and landing."
Mabel chugged half the bottle and belched. "It was interesting in the toilet how liquidy it was. Hardly any chunks."
"Too much information." Dipper told her.
"I usually have one of four types of vomit, but this was a new one—"
"I don't want to hear about this," Dipper said. He plugged his earphones into the jack and his ears and turned the volume up loud. It happened to be Babba singing "Mamma Llamo," catchy but not one of his favorites. It drowned out Mabel's re-enactment of her gastronomic adventures, anyway.
They landed, hurried to Baggage Claim, and just like last time, met Teek and Wendy. Lots of hugging and kissing ensued. "The McGuckets are expecting you guys," Wendy said as she pulled out of the airport parking lot. "Expect to get some late Christmas presents!"
"We brought some for them, too," Dipper said. "It's in the big suitcase. And we have some stuff for you and Teek."
"Aw, that's sweet," Wendy said. "I hope you didn't go overboard. I got you guys some small things, nothing great."
"I got something for Teek," Mabel said from the backseat.
"And I've got something for you. But we'll do that later," Teek said.
No snow on the ground in town, but once they had moved out into the open country before the mountains, it appeared, first as patches and streaks, then as a five- or six-inch layer. Thankfully, the roads had been cleared.
"How's life at the Shack?" Dipper asked. He knew from their frequent texts and chats that Wendy had moved in on December 24, when the Ramirez family had gone off to Mexico until the first week in January.
"Meh, lonely, dude. Everything all buttoned up for the winter. I'm the caretaker, but there's practically nothing to do 'cept feed Waddles and Widdles, eat, sleep, read my magazines, and watch TV. Couple-three years ago, that would've been like my dream life, but nowadays I get bored."
"Uh, we can visit you," Dipper said. "Great-uncle Ford wants me to check an instrument every day for him."
"Yeah, he mentioned something about that," Wendy said. "Cool! I got an idea—I'll run over and get you in the mornings, and we can run back to the Shack together."
She was being literal. Wendy was the one who'd talked Dipper into running for exercise, which led to his success as a member of the Piedmont high school track team. "Sounds great," he said, grinning.
"Wendy, Dipper and you aren't supposed to be together alone," Mabel reminded her.
"So? I'll be with Dipper, and he'll be with me. See, we won't be alone."
Sounding impressed but still not convinced, Mabel said, "I don't think that's how it works."
Teek suggested, "You could run with them."
"I don't know," Mabel said. "Sounds like pointless exercise to me."
"I can meet you at the Shack."
"Done deal!" Mabel said. "Maybe it'd be good for me. I've put on a few pounds since Thanksgiving."
"You're not fat," Teek said loyally.
"I'm not skinny!" Mabel shot back. "OK, Wendy stop at the mall before you take us to the McGucket mansion, please. I've got some Christmas money, and I'll need some running clothes!"
"You got it, girl," Wendy said. "Dip, you ready for track season?"
"As much as I'll ever be," Dipper said. "I'm back right around my personal best. There are some awfully good runners in our district this year, though, so I may not do as well as when I was a freshman." Owing to an injury in his sophomore year, Dipper hadn't equaled his first season on the JV team.
"We'll keep you in shape," Wendy promised.
"So," Mabel piped up. "What weird thing's happened in the Falls?"
"Weird, weird," Wendy murmured while slipping into the freeway traffic. "OK, there's this—just before Christmas, I think on the twenty-third, 'cause the next day he and the boys went off on their camping trip, my dad caught a glimpse of Gompers on Yikes Peak. That's odd because Gompers always hung around the Shack, and he's been missing since, like, Thanksgiving. Dad says it's a well-known sign of bad luck when a goat abandons a house, like a rat leaving a sinking ship."
"I never heard that," Dipper said.
"Probably 'cause it's an old legend that Dad just made up. He does that a lot of times."
"Grunkle Stan wanted us to try to find Gompers," Mabel said.
"Well . . . sort of," Dipper agreed. Actually, Grunkle Stan could take Gompers or leave him. Nobody owned the goat—he'd just showed up at the Shack one day a long time back, when he was just a kid, and ever since he'd hung around the place. Half the time, Stan was touting him as the world's strangest hybrid, with the head and forelegs of a goat and the hindquarters of a goat, but not the same goat! Once or twice he'd even given the rear end of Gompers a dye job to make it seem more plausible.
The other half of the time, Stan was complaining because Gompers would eat absolutely anything at least once—cans from the garbage, leftovers, pizza boxes, underwear, sweaters, you name it, he'd at least try it. That quality endeared him to Mabel, but it got on Stan's nerves.
"Come on, Broseph!" Mabel urged. "Let's mount an expedition! Operation Get Your Goat! Yikes Peak isn't far! Uh, Wendy, how far is Yikes Peak?"
"'Bout nine, ten miles from the Shack. You can't drive there, you have to hike in from a spot off a logging road, maybe three miles uphill through some woods."
"Well, what's a goat, anyways?" Mabel asked. Then for a moment she was silent before yelling, "All right! The guilt would kill me! I can't help it, it's my nature! We gotta get Gompers back, Dipper! He's married to Waddles!"
"That union isn't official," Dipper said. "And you did it just because you wanted to shoot a video."
"Anyway, come on, you have to help. You did promise!"
"I guess I did. Wendy, can you come along as guide?"
"Sure, man! Like I told you, sitting around in the Shack all day with nothing to do is driving me bonkers. I don't have to stay in the place 24-7 to take care of it. It mostly takes care of itself."
They were running into mountainous country, the Columbia River off to their left, bluffs to their right, hiding the snow-packed Mount Hood from sight. Wendy talked about the sights they really ought to go see next summer, several waterfalls (Bridal Veil, Multnomah, Wahkeena, and some others), some scenic stretches of the river, Glacier Lake, some other beautiful spots.
"We'll plan a road trip or two next summer," Wendy promised. "Get us out of the Valley for a few days. We'll see the sights."
In the backseat, Teek's and Mabel's conversation had died down to giggles and whispers. Dipper reached over to Wendy and touched her neck—easy with her shorter hairstyle—and sent her a thought via their touch-telepathy: I don't think they're listening to you, Wen.
–Guess not, Dip. Oh, well. We'll get to the Falls in time for an early dinner. I'm about sick of my own cooking and I've been craving pizza. OK with you if we stop?
Yeah, sure, and pizza's always OK with Mabel. So tomorrow you want to take us to Yikes Peak to see if we can pick up Gompers's trail?
–Yeah, sounds fine. You and Mabel are gonna have to buy some serious hiking boots, though. It's a climb. Not rock-face, just steep and mostly bare granite. I don't think you've spent much time in that part of the Valley.
We can pick up some boots when we stop for Mabel's clothing. I've got Christmas money too, and I'll help out.
–Good deal, and the pizza joint is right at the mall. Dipper—are you thinking naughty thoughts?
Just daydreaming. You look so mature without your long hair. I don't mean bad, it's good on you, but different. I can tell it's already grown out a little just since last month, though.
–Wait'll you see it next June! Shoulder-length or longer. You like it better long?
I like it any way, Magic Girl. I guess it's just always been long.
–I'll grow it long enough to wrap both of us. Keep us warm at night.
Please don't do that when we're in the car. Let's save it for alone time.
–You are such a sweet dork!
Yeah, I'm a dork. But I'm your dork.
–Damn straight, man!
"Whoa," Mabel said as they crossed over a pass. "Welcome to the North Pole!"
Not quite, but eight inches of snow covered the ground, blinding white "Not s'posed to have any more until the weekend, maybe," Wendy said. "If we're gonna go to Yikes Peak, we at least won't have to do it in a snowstorm."
"When do we leave?" Dipper asked.
"Mm, ought to go early, 'cause three miles uphill is no joke in freezing weather. I'd say plan to leave the Falls at nine, we'll get to the pull-off probably around nine-thirty. Hike up to the shoulder of the mountain, get there by eleven, should be warming up. Then we'll scout around for Gompers. I think if we spot him, he'll come to Mabel."
"Yeah! 'Cause I give him unconditional love!" Mabel proclaimed.
"No, 'cause he loves to chew your sweaters."
"That too!" Mabel said.
They made the turn, and then the next one, and before long they took the one road into the Valley. Wendy slowed. "Look up, guys."
Dipper ducked and stared upward through the windshield. Where the old railroad trestle had once spanned High Bluffs, now a bright, gleaming bronze framework had been built. They had even started on the sign—in big red aluminum letters, the partial word Weclom.
"Weclom?" Dipper asked. "Is that supposed to be 'Welcome'?"
"Yep," Wendy agreed. They're gonna redo it, but it's not the company's fault. Guess who wrote out the copy for the builders?"
"Deputy Durland," Dipper guessed, getting it in one try.
Wendy drove under the partly-finished sign, and they were back in the Falls and heading toward Gravity Malls. And to Dipper it felt like coming home.