It was the day of the big math test, and Mabel hadn't studied at all. She was going to fail! She nervously chewed her hair as she stared at the paper. She didn't recognize any of the equations at all. And why were there letters on the page? This was math, not English!
"Psst, could you help me out here?" Mabel turned and whispered to-
"Race you to the pool!" Mabel called. She sprinted towards the water, ignoring the "No Running" signs. At the concrete edge, she jumped up, tucked her legs in, and cannon-balled into the water. The water hit her like a slap in the face, in a good way. She sank down until her feet touched the bottom of the pool. Then she jumped off the bottom and shot to the surface in a cloud of bubbles. With her hair glistening in the sun, she tossed her head, sending a spray of water into the air. She looked around to see if she had beaten-
Mabel screamed as she rode in the golf cart, the ground shaking with the steps of the giant gnome made of smaller gnomes. The cart swerved back and forth to avoid the barrages of pointy-haired little men falling from the sky. Mabel punched a gnome in the face, then had to grab the golf cart's poles to avoid being tossed out by a particularly jerky turn.
"Warn me when you do that!," Mabel said to-
Mabel found herself cradled in a giant pile of sweaters, staring at a sky the color of marmalade. She sat up in the spongy pile of wool and raised her hands to her eyes to survey the landscape. Sweaters. Mountains of sweaters as far as the eye could see. Tangled heaps of fuscia, mauve, and aquamarine, with kittens and puppies that shared her face frolicking on the warm slopes. Sprouting from the sweater ground were trees that dangled yarn balls from their branches like fruit, and cellophane flowers in yellow and green towering over her head. Mabel was sure she'd never been to this place in her life, and yet it seemed so … familiar. Comforting. Like going to a coffee shop where everybody knows your name, and even the barista is glad you came.
Well, whatever this place was, she was going to explore the heck out of it. Mabel stood up to see if she could see sea, see. The sudden shift in weight caused her to lose her balance and she tumbled down the hill. Whee! It was like rolling in fresh laundry, but forever.
When she got to the bottom of the hill, Mabel grinned like a dork. Next to her was the cutest, fluffiest, sweater with the most adorable lamb on it. She just had to try it on.
"Well, who wants a lamby, lamby, lamby?" The childhood song echoed in her ears as soon as she got the sweater over her head.
"I do! I do!" Mabel sang along. Man, she loved the embarrassed look on the face of-
The sweater's collar was too tight around her neck. Mabel couldn't breathe. She yanked off the sweater and flung it away. The lamb applique came off in her hand. As she stared at the patch, she realized that a lot of the sweaters had holes in them. Not threadbare, like they had been worn to pieces, but sharp edges, as if someone had cut them with scissors. The yarn was unraveling, knitted cloth falling to pieces before her eyes.
Hot tears filled Mabel's eyes as she clutched the destroyed sweater. Why was she being so emotional over this? She wiped her eyes on the fraying cloth. "I know I'm being silly, but it's just so tragic! Who would do this? Now you can't even unravel the yarn to make another sweater," Mabel explained-
to whom?
"Don't cry, dear sister of mine." Mabel looked up from her tears to face a face that looked identical to her own, staring right at her. Mabel yelped, and fell backward. The person squirmed out of the sweater pile's embrace, revealing a boy wearing a jacket and a baseball cap with a pine tree logo.
"Who are you?" Mabel asked.
"You don't recognize me?" the mysterious boy said. "I'm your twin brother."
"But how? I'm sure I would remember if I had a bro."
"Would you, now? These memories look like they're in pretty bad shape." The boy picked up a sweater only to have the arm fall off. Mabel stared at the boy's clothes, his face, his … gross unwashed clothes smell?
That scent brought back a memory of Mabel dragging a struggling body into the bathtub. As she stared at the stranger standing in front of her, she could see the boy's face wincing as soap got into his eyes. She heard his voice whispering into her ear the answer to problem 2 on the math test. She saw him struggling to control a golf cart as little men rained from the sky. The missing piece of her memories.
"I found you!" Mabel launched herself at her brother, knocking them both over. "I missed you so much!" she said as she gave the boy the hug of her lifetime. He looked uncomfortable with this much physical contact and tried to squirm out of her grasp. But, they didn't call her "Death Grip" Mabel for nothing. He just had to wait until she had her fill.
"Where have you been this whole time?" Mabel cried, with joy this time.
"There's the rub," the boy said, while patting her back. "Unfortunately, I'm dead."
"Wait, what?"
"Yup, shuffled off the mortal coil, pushing up daisies, pining for the fjords, however you want to say it," the boy said casually. "I died, and now I'm a ghost, forever cursed to wander the earth."
"But that's terrible! There has to be some way to bring you back." There was no way Mabel was letting go of her brother now that she found him.
"Well, in my ghostly adventures, I did come across one way."
"Tell me! Do I have to beat up an angel? I would totally beat up an angel."
The boy grinned widely, and conjured up three battered journals in a burst of blue fire. Each journal had on its cover a metal plate with a six-fingered hand. "These three journals hold the key to unimaginable power. Power enough to rule the world, or bind others to your will, or even raise the dead."
"So all I have to do is get those three journals, and I can bring you to life again?
"Bingo! Got it in one! Give me those journals, and I'll be back in the human world before you know it." The boy held out his hand, which was wreathed in blue fire for some reason. That was kind of weird, but Mabel shook it anyway, just to be polite. She made sure to give him her firmest handshake, which caused him to wince a little. Yup, still got it.
"So where can I find these journals anyway?" Mabel asked. "Are they buried in a secret tomb somewhere? Do I get to wear a fedora?"
"The books are closer than you think," said the boy. "Just keep an eye out around the Mystery Shack. I'm sure they'll turn up." Mabel nodded.
"Now that that's settled, who wants to play Punch Tag? Punch, you're it!"
"Ahh, well, would you look at the time. I'm a busy ghost, got things to do, so-" Mabel slammed her fist into her brother's shoulder.
"Punch brother, no punching back!" As she jabbed at the boy's gut, her hand went through his belly.
"What?" Her entire body was flickering and turning transparent. The world was fading into white.
"It looks like you're waking up."
"But it's too soon! I don't even know your name!"
"That's not important. Just remember to look for the journals. Remember."
Mabel floated to the surface of consciousness. When she came to, Waddles was licking the makeup off her face. The details of the dream were fading into a foggy mush.
But one fact was etched in Mabel's memory.
She had a brother.
She was not alone.
A/N: Questions? Complaints? Disturbing trivia? Leave a comment!