Three summers apart left a lot for Gideon and Pacifica to catch up on. While Gravity Falls hadn't changed much, being older meant that they had a lot more independence. So Pacifica took Gideon under her wing and decided to introduce him to the wonders of thrift shopping.
They went to Shop Thrifty, a shoebox of a store packed with items no longer wanted by their former owners. There was also a very real possibility some of those former owners were dead, leaving their possessions to Shop Thrifty.
Gideon didn't quite understand why thrift shopping was practical. Like who needed an entire jar of broken mousetraps?
Pacifica was in her element though. She buzzed around Shop Thrifty like an archeologist exploring a cave of treasures. "Take this pig whistle! True, I don't have a pig, but maybe this is the universe's way of saying I'll meet a pig someday!" Pacifica put the whistle in her shopping bag. "Also, it's fifty cents. That's even less than a chocolate bar!"
Gideon picked up a book with a sassy teen detective on the cover. "Betty Jupiter! I thought they stopped publishing these!" Girl detective extraordinaire from the olden days, Betty Jupiter was one of his favorite book series.
"See? Thrift shopping has something for everyone!" Pacifica said.
Two girls around Pacifica's age walked into Shop Thrifty carrying a stack of posters. Gideon and Pacifica paid them little mind until they started talking.
"Did you see Dipper last night?" the girl with a red bob said. "He looked so dreamy!"
Gideon froze.
"How is he so cool?" the other girl said. She had fluffy brown hair. She tacked one of their posters to a wall, revealing yet another advertisement for the Telepathy Twins show. "If I were him, I'd be a nervous wreak up on that stage!"
"It must be a showbiz thing. I heard the Telepathy Twins performed for royalty!"
"You're kidding!"
"You know what I'd love? A personal show, if you know what I mean," the redhead said, suggestively wriggling her eyebrows.
"Tell you what: I get Mabel, and you get Dipper," the brunette said.
"Agreed!"
The girls squealed and ran out of the shop. Pacifica pointedly rummaged through the bargain bin. They wouldn't be jumping up and down if they knew what the Telepathy Twins were really like. Ignoring them had gotten increasingly difficult in the past couple weeks. With the posters, TV ads, and even word of the mouth, the Telepathy Twins were everywhere.
Gideon voiced the same sentiments. "I can't believe they're still in town. I was hoping they were a traveling act." The Telepathy Twins had slowly pervaded into Gravity Falls and had shown no signs of leaving.
"Right? Ugh, that reminds me my parents are throwing a dinner party tonight," Pacifica said. "And guess who's the guest of honor?"
She nodded towards the poster. Gideon grimaced. "No way. Why'd your parents invite them?"
"Because they have zero standards," Pacifica said as she scraped gum off a perfectly good pair of heels. "I don't know, they always get so self-conscious whenever new people come into town. Like they have to put on a show, dazzle them, whatever."
"Are you going?"
"I have to. Although I'm not crazy about having Creepy and Creepier in my house." Pacifica casted a glare at the advertisement. "Not to mention their weird uncle."
The Telepathy Twins beckoned from the poster for guests to join their magic show. It was only a drawing, but the twins looked lifelike. Gideon feared Mabel might break through the poster and grab him by the throat.
"My parents said I could invite you, but I know how you feel after..."
"Mabel," Gideon said. Speaking the name felt wrong, like uttering Latin from an ancient summoning book. "But you'll have to deal with them all by yourself."
"Trying not to think about that. I mean, my parents will be there, and Lazy Susan's gonna be working the bar. They wouldn't turn me into Swiss cheese in front other people, right? At least I hope not." She instinctively touched her cheek where the knife had sliced past her. The cut had already healed, leaving only memories of what Dipper and Mabel were capable of.
Gideon still remembered that day with Mabel. Doting on her, wanting to cry out for help, but being physically unable to do so. He didn't like thinking about what would have happened if Pacifica hadn't investigated the Tent of Telepathy.
If Pacifica was in Gideon's position, she'd go to the party. She deserved the same support.
"I'll go."
"You will!?"
"I can't avoid Mabel for the entire summer."
Pacifica was practically glowing as she pulled Gideon into a tight hug. "Thank you thank you thank you!"
"Paz! Breathing!" Gideon squeaked.
"Oh, right." She let go. "Trust me, I'll make sure Mabel doesn't get any closer than ten feet to you. With you, me, and..." Pacifica ran to one of the bins and pulled out the first item she saw. "This banjo! We'll be unstoppable."
"There is literally no situation where a banjo is going to save us," Gideon said.
"Now that you've jinxed us there totally is! I've got a good feeling about this banjo." Pacifica strummed the banjo and one of the strings popped off.
They walked out of Shop Thrifty with a bag of junk and their trusty new (or old) banjo. Pacifica prattled on about decorations for the party and Gideon was content listening. Her animated chattering was strangely soothing. It served as a nice distraction for what Gideon would be facing later that night.
Likewise, Pacifica talked to distract herself from the very same thing. In the back of her mind though, Dipper Pines' warning echoed: Don't think this is the last you've seen of us.
She didn't know what she hated more: having the Telepathy Twins in her house or knowing Dipper was right.
On top of a hill overlooking the entirety of Gravity Falls stood an absurdly tiny house. It was made even more absurd by the size of the lot. Hundreds of trees had been cleared out. Against the wide expanse of open land, the house looked like a fleck of dirt.
The lot was never intended for such a small house. When Nathaniel Northwest commissioned the lumberjacks back in the nineteenth century, he had a grand mansion in mind. It would be a testament to the Northwest name, a small wonder of the world right in Gravity Falls.
Money had something different in mind.
After clearing the trees out, the lumberjacks discovered their employer didn't have the funds needed to complete the estate. They collectively walked out. One faithful lumberjack stuck around to finish construction. With only one set of hands doing the work, the lumberjack did his best to complete the house. The finished product was neither grand nor wondrous, but it would stay standing. The Northwests could settle for that.
Unfortunately, the fates punished the lumberjack for his loyalty. As he nailed down the last shingle on the roof, he got struck by lightning. To commemorate the lumberjack's untimely death, the Northwests turned their house into a bar and named it the Lumberjug. Legend had it on stormy nights when lightning flashed, the scorched outline of the lumberjack's body could be seen on the roof.
To Pacifica Northwest, the ramshackle house on top of the hill was simply her home. The same way it was her parents' home. And her grandparents'. And her great-grandparents'. And probably her great-great-grandparents'.
Storm clouds gathered over Gravity Falls as Gideon and Pacifica set up for the dinner party. Her parents at brought out their most decadent decorations for the party, which by their standards were about as lavish as a yard sale. Gideon shuffled through battered cardboard boxes dragged from the attic/Pacifica's bedroom. "Uh, Paz? Are you sure your parents wanna use Christmas lights?"
"If they still work, string'em up!" Pacifica said from the dining room.
He was about to ask if she wanted the Halloween decorations taken down before realizing the animal heads mounted on the walls were year-round.
Pacifica pried open another folding chair rusted at the hinges and dragged it to the large round table. A dingy polyester tablecloth gave the dining room a fraction of class. She counted out ten sets of mismatched silverware. Dipper and Mabel were seated next to each other, and Pacifica made sure Gideon's name card was far out of Mabel's reach.
The food was set out, the electric candles switched on, and the only thing left to do was wait for the guests. Since getting the news two days ago, Pacifica had been jittery about the Pines coming to her house. Now she was calm. Perhaps she'd shaken all the nerves right out of her body.
The doorknocker thudded twice. Showtime. "I've got it!" Pacifica yelled. She ran to the foyer.
The Pines weren't at the door; instead, it was Reverend McGucket. "Hello, Pacifica! I'm here for the soup drive." He held up a paper bag stuffed with cans of soup. "I brought the soup!"
"Excellent! You brought the appetizer!"
Preston Northwest came into the foyer in a leisure suit that had seen better decades. Like his daughter, Preston appreciated the brighter outfits in life. Also plaid. Bright, horrifying plaid. His style may have been horrendous, but Preston walked like he was wearing a custom-tailored suit.
Realization dawned on McGucket's face as he figured out the event he'd been invited to was not a soup drive. "Preston, you have got to stop doing this!" McGucket said. "You're setting a horrid example for your daughter."
"I must apologize, Reverend, I do believe I got the invitations mixed up!" Preston said smoothly. "Nonetheless, we could always use a man of your... repute at the party. You must stay!"
McGucket saw right through the lie but made no move to leave. "Very well. But all I'll be drinking is water."
"I wouldn't have it any other way!" Preston said.
McGucket went inside, Preston giddily shutting the door behind him. Pacifica rolled her eyes. As soon as McGucket was out of sight, she pounced on her dad. "Seriously? The preacher? Dad, I know you want to impress the Pines family, but come on."
"Pacifica, we've been over this. The Pines already have an adoring relationship with the people of Gravity Falls," Preston explained. "If we can curry their favor, it'll do wonders for the Northwest reputation!"
"Who gives a crap about reputation!?" Pacifica said.
Preston knelt down and put a hand on Pacifica's shoulder. In a calming voice, he said, "Some people do a lot more than they should. Pacifica, I know you don't like the Pines, but this means the world to me and your mother. I appreciate you helping out."
Beneath the bravado and the white lies, her dad always had good intentions. Like the time he set a wild horse loose during Pioneer Day. He'd only wanted to recreate the Wild Horse Rampage of 1872. Pacifica was mortified. But after the town let them out from the stocks, Preston took her to the mall and let her pick out something new and not secondhand.
So even when her dad drove her crazy with his social climbing schemes... Pacifica loved him all the same. "Thanks, Dad. And I'll help during the party too." Someone had to keep the Lumberjug standing.
"That's my little partner in crime, always toughing it out!" He gently rustled her hair.
"Dad, watch the hair!" Pacifica patted her hair back down. Even so, she harbored a tiny smile.
"All right, all right, I'm going to check in on the kitchen. And remember what I told you: it's not child labor, it's volunteer work!" Preston said.
Preston left Pacifica in the foyer. Back to waiting. She straightened a few grainy photographs on the wall, mostly to give her something to do. Out of curiosity, she peered through a stained window. No guests in sight. However, those storm clouds were getting thicker.
Meanwhile, Gideon had run into Pacifica's mom in the bar area. Eccentric fashion sense must have run in the family; Priscilla Northwest looked like she'd stepped straight out of a low-budget animation from the 60s. She'd meticulously applied her makeup for the party and had gone through several gaudy print minidresses before settling on a bright yellow and purple paisley one.
The only thing Priscilla prided more than her looks was her daughter. "And when she was five, she sold lemonade outside the Lumberjug!" Priscilla said, her dirty blonde beehive tilting dangerously to the side. "Only she wasn't selling many glasses, so I added a little something-something to suck in those customers, if you know what I mean..."
Gideon did not know what she meant but opted not to tell her. "That's mighty fascinating."
"Isn't it? My little Pacifica's so creative! You should have seen the fondue party she coordinated last year- oh dear, you probably don't care about that as much as I do." Priscilla leaned over the bar. "Lazy Susan, be honest. I'm rambling again, aren't I?"
Known for her lazy eye and her lazy work ethic, "Lazy" Susan Wentworth lived up to the nickname. She'd kept to herself during the entire conversation between Gideon and Priscilla. Now that Priscilla had dragged her into it, Lazy Susan was more than happy to indulge her boss. "You're rambling."
"I knew it! I just don't know when to quit!" Priscilla said. With a melodramatic sigh, she draped herself across the bar.
Lazy Susan didn't comment.
Gideon had mostly stayed away from Lazy Susan during setup. She'd made no efforts to converse with him anyways. Besides, every time he looked in her direction, his eyes fell on those creepy snake tattoos twisted around her arms. Not knowing what was underneath that lazy eye also put Gideon a little on edge. On top of that, Mabel was due to arrive any minute.
Still, Gideon couldn't ignore that annoying Southern tendency to make small talk during an awkward silence. "So... Susan, do you like working here?"
"No. The Northwests are paying me to work overtime," Lazy Susan said dryly, polishing the glasses. She stopped mid-polish and narrowed her good eye at Priscilla. "I am getting paid this time, aren't I?"
With a shaky laugh, Priscilla said, "Of course, of course! You'll be compensated in some way, shape, or form! We'll work out the details later."
Before Lazy Susan could object, Priscilla bolted to the kitchen, her white go-go boots clonking against the wooden floor. Lazy Susan muttered something under her breath. It didn't sound like English.
Gideon lasted two seconds alone with Lazy Susan. "Well, this is going nowhere." He returned to the foyer.
Pacifica was standing idly near the door. When Gideon came up behind her, she jumped. "Sorry. Thought you were them."
"Mabel would be the type to make a grand entrance," Gideon remarked.
"Agh, don't plant that idea in my head!" Pacifica said. "You ready?"
Was he? The more Gideon thought about being in the same room with Mabel, the more second thoughts he had. What was he supposed to do if she tried to talk him? Or even worse, what if she tried to get him alone? Was it too late to get a ride back to the Shack?
It was. Pacifica and Gideon heard a screech of tires followed by car doors slamming. There was a moment of silence, then the doorknocker sounded once.
It was a knock heard around the entire building. Preston and Priscilla rushed to the door, with Reverend McGucket trailing curiously behind them. Lazy Susan looked up from her position in the bar and craned her neck toward the foyer. Pacifica steeled herself. And Gideon, trembling and hyperventilating, made an important decision.
"I can't do this. Hide me!"
Pacifica scrambled for a hiding spot. She opened a cupboard and pushed aside some dishes. "In here!"
Gideon squeezed into the cupboard right as Dipper and Mabel Pines swept into the Lumberjug accompanied by their great uncle. Their presence brought the normally warm Lumberjug to a chill. Even Reverend McGucket looked discomforted. The Pines family had quite the entourage with them. Wendy came in right after them followed by Robbie and...
"Soos!?"
Soos walked in wearing a surprisingly snazzy tuxedo and a driver's hat. "Oh hey, Pacifica! The Pines hired me to be their chauffeur! How cool is that?"
"Don't talk to her," Dipper ordered.
"Sure thing, dude!" Soos said. He still gave a friendly thumbs up to Pacifica.
While Pacifica scrutinized the Pines from a safe distance, her parents made a beeline for the family. "Welcome! We're so delighted to have you here!" Preston said.
"The food's free, right?" Stan said.
"Grunkle Stan, that is no way to talk to our hosts!" Mabel admonished. She looked back to the Northwests. "The food is edible, right?"
"Certainly!" Priscilla said. The strain in her voice made it sound like even she wasn't certain about the food. "Come inside! Please!"
And so the mingling began. Preston and Priscilla hovered around Mabel and Stan like gnats. Only Dipper remained at the door, several feet away from Pacifica. Pacifica coldly crossed her arms. "Hope you're not in the mood for target practice."
"You think I'd risk pulling something like that around other people? If I wanted to do anything, I would have done so by now," Dipper said, his voice calm and even. Pacifica noted a thin white tie had replaced his amulet.
"How's not having a magic amulet going for you anyways?" she said.
"Sublime," Dipper retorted.
"My parents may have invited you, but that does not mean you are welcome here," Pacifica said.
"You're breaking my heart."
"Listen here Dipshi-" Pacifica caught herself. Gideon was in the room. "Dipshifter. I meant what I said. This isn't the Tent of Telepathy. You're in my house now. "
"Your house is a bar? That explains a lot."
"It has character!"
"Right."
Dipper left Pacifica fuming. If only the party had been sooner. She could have at least derived some satisfaction in seeing the black eye she gave him. On the bright side, Dipper hadn't made any outright threats. She'd keep monitoring him from a distance.
Meanwhile, Pacifica needed to micro-manage everyone else at the party. Northwest parties had taught her that party guests were like chemicals. Mix certain ones together, and the party could go up in flames. Dipper was under control for now; she doubted he'd cause much damage other than psychological damage. The wild card was his sister.
Speaking of, Mabel was nowhere in sight. Which meant she could find Gideon. Pacifica took off.
Mabel had actually sent Priscilla hurrying to the kitchen after mentioning her dislike for chocolate. In truth, Mabel loved chocolate. But like mother like daughter, winding up Priscilla was positively entertaining. Distracting her also gave Mabel a chance to explore.
Mabel floated through the rooms, fingers touching everything within reach. She liked knowing the space. When Mabel brushed her fingers against a dingy chandelier (those crystals were clearly glass), the object had more depth. It was like reading a book only much more satisfying. The surroundings might prove useful as well, especially when Dipper and Mabel got to their performance.
Her wandering brought her back to the foyer. The bartender was watching her. Fair enough. Mabel was watching her too. Just to get her squirming, Mabel looked directly at her and flashed an innocent smile. She hastily grabbed a glass to polish.
Before she continued her exploration, Mabel heard someone sneeze from... a cupboard? Wait. That adorable, kitten-like sneeze could only belong to two people, and her brother wasn't in the room.
Mabel dragged a perfectly manicured nail across the counter and rapped her knuckles above the cupboard. "I know you're in there," she purred.
After a moment of silence, Gideon Gleeful inched out of the cupboard and met Mabel's smiling face. "H-hey Mabel."
"Gideon! No one told me my little sugar cube would be here!" Mabel said, uncomfortably close to him.
"And you're gonna act like he's not."
Like a vengeful guardian angel, Pacifica Northwest strode through the foyer and firmly planted herself between Gideon and Mabel. "Of course you'd show up," Mabel said, no longer attempting to hide her disdain for Pacifica.
In turn, Mabel's open contempt for Pacifica meant Pacifica no longer had to feign courtesy around Mabel. Also she wasn't wearing her headband tonight which made talking back much less intimidating. Pacifica put her hands on her hips. "Gideon is off-limits. You lay one finger on him, I will personally kick you out of my house."
"Say, you wouldn't have a house to kick me out of if it burned down, would you?" Mabel said.
"I don't know what sick punchline you're getting to, but-"
"Oh, you didn't know?" Mabel spoke in the same tone used when talking to an exceptionally dumb toddler. "Wood is highly flammable."
As Pacifica processed what Mabel was insinuating, she took her exit. Pacifica let out a frustrated grunt. "I can't believe her! I hope our fire extinguisher still works."
"Did you see the way she found me?" Gideon looked over his shoulder, making sure Mabel wasn't hiding in wait for him to be alone. He couldn't forget the way Mabel's intense blue eyes bore into his. She looked at him like a lost possession she was intent on getting back.
"I know. God, if I can just get through this one night with the house still standing..." Pacifica started going over the status of the party guests. "Okay, Mabel's a potential arsonist, Dipper's smug but not a threat, Dad's talking to Soos - fine. McGucket's not important. Mom is..." Pacifica looked around. In the lounge, she caught sight of an auburn-haired woman with a camera slung around her neck. "Oh no."
"What is it?" Gideon said.
"Shandra Jimenez."
Gideon actually knew who this person was, if only by name. She'd snapped pictures of him and Mabel when she'd been parading him around. He'd assumed she wrote for Gravity Falls Daily, but he later found out she wrote for her own headline Gravity Falls Hourly. He didn't know if she actually wrote articles by the hour.
Trying to find some sliver lining, Gideon said, "Maybe Shandra can give some exposure to the Lumberjug."
"Yeah, if Shandra was a real reporter." Her mom was talking animatedly to Shandra. Shandra was going to bleed her dry if Pacifica didn't step in. "I gotta do damage control. Can you handle yourself?"
"I'll be fine."
As Pacifica headed to the lounge, Gideon gravitated to the one other person he knew well: Robbie. "Some party, huh?"
"That's one way to put it," Robbie said. He'd sanctioned off his own little corner in the bar area, safe to observe the party guests with minimum interaction. In case no one at the party wanted to talk to him, Robbie had also brought a poetry book.
"So the Northwests invited you too?" Gideon asked.
"Not exactly. Wendy did."
"They invited Wendy?"
"Actually, I think Dipper invited her," Robbie said, sounding uncertain on how the sequence of invitations played out. "Guess the Northwests couldn't say no to the guests of honor. Check it out."
Gideon looked around the Lumberjug and saw Dipper over at the punch bowl with Wendy. He stood comically shorter than the lanky redhead, made only funnier by him standing up as straight as possible. He appeared to be carrying on a one-sided conversation that Wendy had been cornered into listening to.
"And that's why the Black Death was such a success," Dipper concluded. Wendy took another disinterested swig of punch. "Do you need more punch- do you want more punch? I'll get you more punch."
Wendy crushed the red plastic cup with her bare hands and tossed it to the floor. "I'm good. Man, this place is even more of a dive than I remember."
Dipper laughed, a challenge for him. He wanted to sound like he found her remark genuinely funny but not too funny. "That is an accurate statement!" No, that didn't come out right. What was he, a robot? "I mean- sentences!"
Wendy raised an eyebrow.
"Excuse me."
He escaped to a window, one of the few remotely decent areas in this hovel. He hated the flush in his cheeks and beads of perspiration on his forehead. This type of behavior was unacceptable around other people. No matter - after a few minutes, he quietly recovered from the blunder with Wendy and returned to his usual state of cold aloofness. No one suspected a thing.
Except Mabel. Times like these she didn't even need a psychic connection to know what Dipper was thinking. She crept in out of nowhere. "Somebody's in love..."
"What? I am not," Dipper said. "Wendy's an interesting person, and I think it would be advantageous to spend time with her-"
"On a date?" Mabel said teasingly. That pink flush returned with a vengeance. "What's the matter? Afraid of humiliating yourself in front of your new GIRLFRIEN-!"
Dipper clamped a hand over Mabel's mouth. "Can you keep it down? You're gonna blow my chances with Wendy."
"Sure I am. You have to appreciate the irony of this situation, Dipdop. 'Mabel, he's just a boy! You need to focus more!'" Mabel said in her best Dipper voice. "'I'm Dipper Pines, and I never get distracted by girls!' Are we becoming each other? Am I going to start reading nerd books?"
"I do not talk like that," Dipper said. "I'm gonna get mingling over with. Hopefully talking with these hicks isn't too painful."
Mabel snickered. She knew enough about crushes to tell when someone reciprocated. Dipper's little crush on Wendy was going to crash and burn, and Mabel couldn't wait to watch the fireworks.
Meanwhile, she had other more important matters. She'd cultivated a few connections at the party, a miracle given who she had to pick from. Shandra promised a glowing write-up about Mabel's showbiz tips, and she'd even put in a good word for Dipper. She had Pacifica's parents under her heel from the moment she stepped into their mud pit of a home. Pity their daughter wasn't so easy to subdue.
Only Gideon remained out of her grasp. He was tantalizingly close, but he was afraid. Afraid of the potential their relationship held. There had to be some kind of grand gesture Mabel could do to win him over. She'd eradicate the sun if that was what he wished.
Except that wasn't.
Soos noticed Mabel staring out the window deep in thought. "How's it hanging, Miss Mabel?"
"Have you ever been in love?" Mabel asked bluntly.
"All the time! Like right now I'm in love with this dip!" Soos crammed another chip in his mouth. "What is the secret to such deliciousness?"
"But what if the dip wanted nothing to do with you?"
The question took him aback somewhat. Mabel had barely said two words to him in the car, let alone anything this thought-provoking. "That's pretty deep stuff, hambo- I mean, Miss Mabel. I guess I'd be pretty bummed out."
"Then what would you do?" Mabel said.
"Well... I'd respect the dip's wishes," Soos replied. He was so kind. Dipper would pity him. "Then maybe give the dip some space. Like it wanted!"
"But you're in love this dip- you're not just going to let it slip through your fingers!" Mabel said in a more aggressive tone.
Soos frowned. "I feel like I'm missing some subtext here-"
Mabel grabbed him by the collar and stood up on her tiptoes so they were eye-to-eye. "Jesús, you have one chance to make this dip love you again. You're really going to squander a lifetime of happiness because you don't have the courage to talk?"
"Well, when you put it that way... Okay, change of plans," Soos said. "I'd have a long, talk with the dip. You know, nice and intimate."
"So you're saying I should use intimate details of the dip's life to bring him closer to me?" Something intimate... Mabel's memory went back to a conversation with Pacifica of all people. She'd said something important about Gideon. That was what Mabel would use to get him back.
"That's not exactly what I said, but-"
"You've been immensely helpful." Her steps lighter and her heartbeat quicker, Mabel left Soos alone and confused at the window. She needed to inform Dipper of the change in plans.
Of the guests Dipper had talked to, the most tolerable of the bunch had been Reverend McGucket. He spoke eloquently despite the faint Southern drawl. Having lived in Gravity Falls for over thirty years, he was also a valuable source of information. At one point Dipper even... enjoyed their conversation. He didn't have to force himself to remember social cues and fight the urge to climb up to the roof for some solitude.
McGucket had been giving Dipper some insight into the Lumberjug itself. "The building is old enough to be historically significant, but the Northwests don't take proper advantage of it."
"So why do they still live here?" Dipper said.
"You've seen the ragged state of this place- I mean, I don't wish to speak ill of the Northwests," McGucket lowered his voice, "but everyone knows they couldn't afford to move anywhere else. The only reason the Lumberjug gets any real business is because it's the only bar within thirty miles."
Interesting. Dipper could tell from the worn state of Pacifica's clothes she wasn't rich, but he didn't know the Northwests were this poor. "Reverend, I'm curious. What would you do with the Lumberjug?"
McGucket took the bait almost instantly. "Truthfully, I'd like to turn the Lumberjug into a more respectable establishment. Perhaps a shelter. The church is in need of renovations, but if I had ownership of a place like this I could relocate altogether."
"Is that so?" Dipper said. He mentally stored away that juicy tidbit of information.
"That's merely a distant dream though!" McGucket laughed a little too lightheartedly. "I would never force the Northwests out!"
Dipper saw Stan headed toward him with a stern expression on his face. McGucket noticed too, and he tensed up. However, Stan reached them before McGucket could excuse himself. "Mabel told me about the change in plans."
"Change in plans?" Dipper said calmly. He knew by now Grunkle Stan loved to goad him into reacting - he saw it as a challenge.
"Something about 'soulmates.' I don't know the details, but she's looking for you. You'd best find her; I don't want this show bombing because you two aren't up to speed," Stan said.
Dipper didn't know why Stan was so concerned. They weren't exactly performing for royalty. "Very well. Nice meeting you, Reverend."
Reverend McGucket gave a shaky wave as Dipper left. The two men stood in awkward silence. Stan was a sharp man, and he could tell McGucket was fixated on him. "Do I know you?"
"No," McGucket said quickly. "I believe not. If you'll excuse me, I need to use the restroom."
On his way to the restroom, McGucket passed Shandra and Pacifica in a heated conversation with Priscilla trying to mediate. "You weren't invited!" Pacifica said, struggling to keep her voice down. "I don't even know how you got in here!"
"The backdoor was open," Shandra replied, cool as a glass of water. On the other hand, Pacifica was redder than a tomato. "Since when did your family develop standards anyways?"
"We don't have any!" Priscilla cut in. "No standards here- please stay, Shandra."
The underlying plea was Please don't write an inflammatory article about the party. A good reporter always knew how to pick out the subtext. Shandra smirked. "I'm simply doing my job, Priscilla. I follow the story, and I've got a feeling there's a big one happening at this party." She glared sharply at Pacifica. "And I think this story just got a pretty solid lead."
"At least wait until the Telepathy Twins have performed! Surely that's worth writing about!" Priscilla said.
"Oh, my main feature will be the Telepathy Twins," Shandra said. "Don't worry, the Northwest party will also feature on the front page - maybe under the Social Disasters column."
Priscilla paled. "But-"
"Mom, I think Dad was looking for you," Pacifica cut in. "You should go check on him."
"I- of course."
Once Priscilla had left, Pacifica made no efforts to be polite. "Don't you have anything better to write about?"
"You think it's easy finding stories in this backwoods town? I'm already scraping from the bottom of the barrel here," Shandra said. Her eyes lit up with an idea, one that she'd probably planned springing on Priscilla. "Perhaps my story would be favorable if I had an interview."
"You are a desperate, attention-grabbing leech, and I am never doing another interview with you," Pacifica hissed.
Shandra pulled out a tape recorded hidden in her shoe. Pacifica's stomach dropped; Shandra had gotten her. Again. "Maybe I'll go on home and write my article now. Which headline's more striking: Northwest Party More Disastrous Than a Bolt of Lightning or Northwest Daughter Calls Hapless Guest a Leech? I'm leaning more toward the second one..."
"Okay fine!" Pacifica said. "I'll answer one question."
"I deserve at least five."
"Two."
"Three."
"...fine."
Shandra sprung into reporter mode as if headlining a national news network. "Pacifica Northwest, was the party for Dipper and Mabel Pines solely to improve social standing?"
"No," Pacifica said.
"So your family has other ulterior motives? Good to know."
"That's not what I meant!"
Shandra ignored her. "Next question: the guest list for this party was awfully small. Did you unwittingly exclude most of the good people of Gravity Falls from the party?"
"Of course not." Pacifica realized how easily that phrase could be twisted around. "I mean we didn't knowingly-"
Too late. "The exclusive guest list was deliberate. Very interesting. You're doing great, Pacifica. Final question: if your family possessed more money, what would they spend the money on?"
"I don't know? My parents deal with money stuff."
"Not educating their daughter on financial matters? I can't say I'm surprised," Shandra with mock sympathy. Pacifica was too flabbergasted to respond. "And your parents intend to ask for money from the Pines family. I completely understand."
"NO! Not in a million- trillion years!" Pacifica sputtered.
Shandra switched off the tape recorder. "Thank you so much for your time, Pacifica. Look for the story in tomorrow's paper."
She began to walk away, but Pacifica wasn't about to let her slip out so easily. "That interview was completely biased!"
"I'm a reporter, not a scholar. What did you expect?" Shandra said.
Pacifica throttled back. She reverted to the same patronizing manner of speech Shandra specialized in. "You're right, I shouldn't have expected so much from you. After all, Gravity Falls Daily won't even hire you - you're only a freelance reporter.."
As an unofficial reporter, Shandra had trained herself to keep her cool on hot-button issues. Unfortunately, there was one word that drove her berserk. Freelance. She turned on her heel and jabbed Pacifica with a sharp red fingernail. "The work I do is just as legitimate as those hacks! I will walk out of here with a story. Even if I have to drag your family under the dirt to get it."
Shandra stalked off, her auburn hair swishing back and forth. Pacifica sighed. She'd known from the start Shandra wouldn't treat her kindly. In perspective, that interview could have gone a whole lot worse. That didn't make Pacifica feel any better.
A bell rang from the dining room. Dinner at last. Pacifica went out of the lounge and into the dining room, shutting the door behind her. The guests were all seated around the table. A sullen-looking Shandra stood in a corner. Dipper and Mabel sat side by side, and even though the table was round, they still somehow managed to be the center of attention. Pacifica slid into her seat between Gideon and her dad.
All of the lights had been turned off, save for the electric candles. They gave the dining room table a faint glow and shrouded the rest of the room in shadows. Three light blue candles (real ones to Pacifica's surprise) stood in a triangular formation at the center of the table. Within the candles formation was a small bowl of tomato soup.
The guests murmured amongst themselves, mainly wondering why their plates were empty. Dipper and Mabel surveyed the guests. They didn't speak a word, but their furtive glances at one another hinted at an unspoken dialogue. Dipper picked up his fork and clinked it delicately against his glass.
Everyone fell silent and looked to the Telepathy Twins. Mabel did the talking. "Before we begin the meal, my brother and I would like to perform a demonstration."
Pacifica knew this part of the night. Her parents had told her Dipper and Mabel would be performing a condensed version of their show. Something about more emphasis on intimate effects - she'd been reeling over the news to remember the details. She'd already seen one of their shows at the Tent of Telepathy; surprising her after that spectacle was near impossible.
"Does everyone at this table believe in ghosts?"
But not completely impossible.
Robbie whispered, "Should we tell them about Fred?" Gideon shushed him.
"I ask because if any of you don't, you'll need to step away from the table," Mabel said.
Reverend McGucket silently got up and moved to a corner of the dining room. Shandra slipped eagerly into the vacant seat. Had Pacifica not been there, Gideon would have gotten up too. Nonetheless, he stayed on the edge of his seat, ready to make an exit.
Once everyone had settled back down, Mabel continued. "Thank you. You're all very lucky. Tonight you have the rare privilege of participating in a séance conducted by us."
The guests gasped. With one sentence, everything Pacifica had prepared for became useless. And that made her very worried.
"We don't do this often," Dipper added. "But tonight we will communicate with a genuine spirit. And don't worry: Mabel and I will guide you through the entire process. For the spirits to flow into the space though, we need to be connected. Everyone join hands."
They did so. A spark of jealousy came over Mabel when she saw Gideon take Pacifica's hand, but she quickly batted it out. He would soon be hers anyways.
The guests held hands, now connected in a large circle. Pacifica felt... something in the might have been merely the power of suggestion. A shudder passed through Dipper and Mabel. "The spirits are active tonight," Mabel said.
"Now," Dipper said. "We need a singular spirit to summon. Someone who was close to the one of you."
Pacifica's left hand started trembling. She looked over at Gideon, his face white as hair, and saw his entire arm was shaking. Pacifica herself was on edge too. She didn't like how vague the twins were being. Suddenly she realized why Gideon was afraid. Someone close... they wouldn't.
Mabel tilted her head, a playful smile on her face. To her, this was simply another game. And she loved games. "Shy to speak? We'll find someone then."
Her eyes moved about the table, landing on each individual guest. She held hypnotic eye contact as if picking through each guest's brain the same way a child looked through a toy box. Some guests like Soos squirmed a little bit under her stare. Others like Shandra stared defiantly back without flinching. McGucket, despite not sitting at the table, deliberately looked away.
Then she focused on Gideon. By now, Gideon was shakier than a leaf. If this was a game, Mabel had just drawn an ace. "How about we summon... your mother?"
What little color Gideon had left drained from his face. "How dare you."
"Why not?" Dipper interjected. "A close relative who passed away is a perfect candidate for-"
"Don't talk about my mom like she's something you pick out of a catalog!" Gideon said.
"Gideon, we'd never dream of talking about your mother that way," Mabel said, making her voice as soothing as possible. "But haven't you ever wondered what your mother wants to say to you? How she's doing? If she's happy wherever she is? Surely there must be at least one thing want to ask her."
Pacifica gawked at the twins' audacity. She felt Gideon's fingernails dig into her hand. She looked over and saw his mouth hanging open speechless. He choked out, "I..."
A fervor took over Mabel. She craved a connection to the supernatural, and combined with her need to impress Gideon, she didn't care if the other guests were uncomfortable. Mabel drew forward, her blue eyes piercing into Gideon's. "I can do it. I can bring your mother back if that's what you wish."
"You have no idea what I want!" Gideon snapped.
Mabel didn't understand. If she were Gideon's position, she'd have a thousand questions prepared for the séance. "If you're scared, don't be. I'm very experienced-"
"You think this is some kind of challenge!?" Gideon wrenched his hands out of the circle, breaking it. "I don't care about your experience! You can't bring my mom back!"
"Well, we have to pick someone to summon for the séance to work," Dipper said.
"Then pick someone else!"
Gideon stood up. The first time since the confrontation in the Tent of Telepathy, the cracks in Mabel's stage persona began to show. Losing a soulmate would do that to her. "Wait, you can't leave!"
He kicked his chair back. "Watch me!"
Gideon stormed out of the dining room leaving everyone in stunned silence. Mabel looked like she'd been slapped across the face. The only person halfway composed was Dipper, and even he couldn't conceal his surprise. Pacifica couldn't take her eyes away from Gideon's empty seat. The nerve of the twins to... she needed to check on Gideon.
Attempting to bring the attention back to the himself and Mabel, Dipper said, "Well then. We'll have to find another spirit for the séance."
Pacifica let go of her dad's hand. "Screw the séance." She got to the door and stopped. After an entire evening of the twin's antics, she couldn't resist getting in one last word. "I hope you're happy," Pacifica said to them.
She didn't stick around for the twins' response.
Gideon half-walked, half-ran through the Lumberjug. The warm bearskin rugs and cushy armchairs now felt suffocating. The sturdy logs seemed ready to topple and bury him alive. He couldn't breath, he couldn't think, and the only thing in his head was a primal urge to get as far away from that room as possible. Getting outside was the release that got him breathing again.
Gideon inhaled and exhaled slowly as he stepped away from the Lumberjug and into the empty lot. He sat down on the grass and began counting the stars. He whispered one, two, three... and so on until he recognized a constellation. Then he started over. He forced his eyes to concentrate on the night sky. To think of only which number came next.
He heard Pacifica's voice behind him. "Hey."
He looked away from the sky and back to Pacifica. She shifted awkwardly from foot to foot, wanting to approach but waiting for an okay from Gideon.
"Hey, Paz."
Her words came rushing out like a flood. "I am so sorry about Dipper and Mabel. I should have stopped them- no, I shouldn't have let my parents invite them. I can't believe- scratch that, I can believe they would be so insensitive. If only I'd... I'm sorry. God, I am so, so sorry."
"It's okay. I mean, I don't feel okay, but what happened wasn't your fault," Gideon said. "Dipper and Mabel can go suck a lemon."
"I'll buy the lemons," Pacifica offered.
She plopped down next to him. Gideon quietly focused back on the stars. Pacifica gripped handfuls of grass, twisting the blades then letting go. A few times she opened her mouth, but what she really wanted to say got stuck on the edge of her lips. She was scared of pushing Gideon back into that dark place Mabel had wrenched him into.
Finally, in a delicate whisper she said, "It's been ten years, hasn't it?"
"Almost."
Ten years since his mom had passed away. Three thousand six hundred and fifty-three days. When Gideon broke it down, the number didn't seem like a very big one. Not compared to three million. When he thought of all the other decades he had left in his life, ten years felt like an even smaller number.
"Does it still feel weird? Talking about her?" Pacifica said.
Gideon had never been able to clearly explain how it felt. Before he even knew how to talk, the absence of his mom hung over his family. He didn't always feel sad; most of the time he felt confused or frustrated. Whenever he saw Bud gaze too long at his wedding ring or when he met Pacifica's parents, he knew something was missing. It was a blank space; the only problem was Gideon had nothing to fill it in with.
When Gideon turned five, Bud took him for ice cream and told him about the car crash. Between spoonfuls of strawberry pecan (with the nuts picked out), Gideon listened to Bud talk about someone who was essentially a stranger to him. Still, this stranger loved him, and even at five, Gideon realized that must mean something important. After the talk, Bud cried because of grief. Gideon cried because Bud cried.
That was how it worked, right? Crying lead to closure. And yet...
"It never stopped feeling weird."
Gideon leaned against Pacifica's shoulder, hit by the weight of their conversation. He'd never talked this seriously about his mom with Pacifica. Or anyone besides his dad. Even then, they hadn't talked about his mom like this in three years.
Their heart-to-heart was short-lived. Gideon and Pacifica heard a rumble from behind that sounded like a stampede. They stood up and saw the lights flickering in the Lumberjug. After blinking on and off several times, the Lumberjug went dark.
"That's strange. Did Mom and Dad forget to pay the power bill again?" Pacifica wondered out loud.
They heard a crash of something heavy followed by a high-pitched scream. The lights came back on. A few seconds later, Dipper Pines ran out. He looked around frantically, his fists clenched and his forehead sweaty. Almost like he was showing... real emotion?
If Dipper wanted sympathy, he shouldn't have come outside. Pacifica said irritability, "What do you want?"
Instead of throwing a biting remark to them, Dipper stumbled forward, his feet not quite knowing where to touch the ground. "Did you see her?"
"Who?" Pacifica said.
The question set something off in Dipper. He roughly gripped Pacifica by the shoulders and yelled, "MABEL! Did you see her!?"
"We haven't seen anyone!" Gideon said, pulling Pacifica out of Dipper's grasp.
Dipper backed away upon realizing Gideon and Pacifica couldn't help him. He began pacing across the lot, running his fingers through his hair. His meticulously slicked back hairdo became bushy and disheveled. "Oh, this is bad," he murmured to himself. "This is bad, this bad, this is bad..."
"What's going on?" Gideon said.
Dipper's pacing came to a halt. He stared glassy-eyed into the wide expanse of trees. A bolt of lightning flashed against the sky, followed by the low rumble of thunder. The first drops of rain began to fall.
"Mabel's vanished."
GSV NBHGVIB YVTRMH, GSV XOFVH ZIV HVG, GIFHG ML LMV, ZMW KOZXV BLFI YVGH.
A/N: This chapter was a mother to write. So many characters to introduce. So many motives. But on the up side, the Telepathy Twins are back! I did have a lot of fun coming up with ways to reverse all the characters in this chapter. I didn't mean for it to be this long, but like I said there were so many characters I had to fit in.
Once again, thanks for all the feedback! It really means a lot to me. I also keep forgetting to mention this, but if you need help with the cryptograms, shoot me a message. They're meant to be fun, and I don't mind dropping a few helpful hints. I'm working hard on the next chapter! Which is good because there's a lot left to write for it.
