How Is the Weather?


(February 2018)

7-What to Do

Dipper took the news in stride. Mabel, not so much. "I had to learn all sorts of crazy magic spells to make it rain that time, but you could do it all along? No fair!"

Wearily, Wendy said, "I couldn't do it all along, Mabes. It just . . . developed. Like growing in your pinky fingers. And I didn't ask for it or even want it. It's just . . . just a Corduroy thing."

"Don't pick on her, Mabel," Dipper said quietly. "This is something Wendy needs to get used to and understand."

"And not use," Wendy added.

"Why not?" Mabel asked. "I mean, if it was pouring rain and Dipper had a track meet, or if another thunderstorm terrified poor Tripper—"

With a sigh, Wendy said, "Corduroy women have these, I don't know, talents, I guess. Not all of them, I mean. I've got another aunt who never had anything like this happen to her, and Sallie tells me that only a few of us ever get abilities that amount to anything. But there's a dark side. The more you use your talent, the stronger it grows on you. I don't mean I'd get to the point where I could cause a hurricane or anything like that. It's just you get to depend on the power too much, and it twists you. You go crazy with it."

"Literally crazy?"

"Yeah, pretty much. Sallie says the trick is to contain it and control it and not let it control you. So until I learn more, I have to hold back on this. If I could get rid of it, I would."

Mabel said, "Howwwww do you do that?"

"That's just it," Wendy said. "Sallie tells me you can't. Or anyway, nobody's ever found a way to do it. So I have to keep from even wishing the weather was different. One thing, Sallie thinks I have to be real emotional, mad or upset or scared, to trigger it. That's why when I just wished for a change in the weather but wasn't emotional, nothing happened. The problem is that if I keep doing it when I'm angry or whatever, it grows until it just sort of takes over. I don't want to be a weather witch!"

"We ought to talk to the Hand Witch about this," Mabel said.

Wendy rubbed her eyes. "Not today. We need to head back home."

Fortunately, and without help from Wendy, the weather had warmed somewhat. The highways were clear, the skies were only partly cloudy, and the long drive back to Crescent City didn't present any problems. Wendy was tired—she hadn't turned in the night before until after 2:30, and Sallie, being a farm woman, had awakened her at 5:00. She sat with the dogs in the back seat while Dipper and Mabel took turns driving. Before many miles passed, she was dozing.

Out of consideration for Wendy, Dipper and Mabel didn't turn on the radio, and even Mabel conversed in hushed tones. "I don't know whether to congratulate her or feel sorry for her."

"I don't think Wen knows that herself," Dipper said. "I'll help her as much as I can. I'll read up on what the traditions of sorcerers say about controlling power—"

"It's really magic?" Mabel asked. "Not some undiscovered whatchummy of dimensional science?"

"Who knows?" Dipper said. "Grunkle Ford thinks that the weirdness of Gravity Falls comes mainly from its being a nexus. The—wait, do you know what 'nexus' means?"

"Sure," Mabel said. "When we were little and Mom and Dad took us to visit Santa in the store, we'd stand in line and when the last kid in front of us went, we'd say 'Nex us!' Don't look at me that way. I know that a nexus is like a connection point, OK? Like almost all the time flying from California to Atlanta on Delta, you have to make a stopover or even change planes in Salt Lake City, 'cause it's a nexus of routes. How'd I do?"

"You got a hundred," Dipper said. "Anyhow, it's like that, but Gravity Falls is a nexus of influences from thousands or maybe millions of other dimensions. The laws of science aren't the same in all of them. In some, energy is the underlying, uh, engine of how and why things work. In others, it's what we'd call magic. And Wendy was born and grew up in Gravity Falls, so she got some influence from that."

"I thought she got her mojo because she's a Corduroy."

"There's that, too," Dipper agreed. "Sallie says her ancestors were Scots-Irish. She has, oh, Druids and bards and sorceresses in her family tree."

"No sorcerers?"

"Sallie told her that Corduroy men don't have the same kind of magic as the women."

"Score one for our side," Mabel said.

"Anyway, combine her family history and Gravity Falls weirdness, and I suppose that sort of explains why she might get the gift. She says she'd rather have had something like her Aunt Sallie's Second Sight, though. See, she has to invoke weather, well, we'll just call it magic for now. She has to call for it. But Sallie just gets these flashes of understanding or visions of the future, without even thinking about it."

"I think I'd like to have time-stretching magic," Mabel said.

"What? There isn't any such thing," Dipper said, smiling at her.

"Oh, yeah? How did Bill Cipher make a couple of days seem like months?"

"You've got me there," Dipper admitted. "Shh. Wendy's sleeping. Let her rest."


Wendy had awakened when they pulled into the driveway. The dogs got excited—just as they did when one of their people was away for any period longer than ten minutes—at the prospect of getting back home after such a long, long trip. They had an urgent need to take off for the back yard to make sure everything was in its place and the squirrels weren't carrying away the hot tub or anything.

"Hey," Mabel said, "what do we want for dinner? Think of some take-out and I'll volunteer to go get it."

"Thanks, Sis," Dipper said. "Wen? You hungry?"

"Getting there," she said, glancing at the kitchen clock. "Nearly six-thirty. Not in the mood for Chinese, but what about something from the vegetarian place?"

"Green World?" Mabel asked. "Yeah, I'd go for that." She ran to her room and came back with her tablet. "Let me pull up the menu."

They agreed on sharing one of the big Eden salads—avocados, tomatoes, cucumbers, onions, and herbs, with a creamy dressing—plus a family-sized eggplant Parmesan (Green World allowed cheese and eggs in some dishes). The place also offered tasty ciabatta rolls. Mabel made the run and came back by seven-fifteen. The dogs had been fed, and they did not bother to beg—the aromas told them there was nothing in this for them.

Later, in bed, Dipper embraced Wendy and they exchanged thoughts and feelings. You have to help me get through this, Dipper.

I'm always here for you, Wen.

I feel so—different.

You're not. I can tell you're still you. Which means you're still wonderful You're strong enough and smart enough to handle this.

Thanks. But I don't know, even Sallie doesn't know, if sort of packing it away inside is good or bad. It's not like holding a grudge, I guess. It doesn't fester and get worse and worse. At least I hope it doesn't.

I don't think it would. It's not evil. It's not good. It's just neutral. A tool that you can use.

Yeah, like my axe. Can be used for good or evil.

It's all in the choices you make, I think. Even—

Wendy waited, but when Dipper didn't finish, she said, "Even Bill Cipher had choices, right?"

"Yeah, that's what I was thinking. Of course, he made all the wrong ones."

Wendy snuggled closer. "He was insane, though."

"Sure he was. What's your point?" Dipper murmured. "Seriously though, I think—no way of knowing, just my hunch—I think that the reason he was insane was he made all those wrong choices."

"Maybe he just couldn't help it."

Dipper worked that around mentally. "No, I think choice was always open to him. Otherwise, the Axolotl wouldn't have given him a second chance. Hey, Wendy, look at it this way: if Billy Sheaffer can contain Bill Cipher and still choose to do the right thing, you won't have any problem."

"I guess that's the point. What time is it?"

Dipper rolled to look over at the bedside clock. "Umm . . . ten-twelve."

"We need to be asleep by eleven to get up and go to school."

"Right."

"So . . . forty-eight minutes is long enough for a little loving."

"You read my mind," he said, kissing her.

Sure I did, Dip. Just like—oh, that's nice, I like that—just like you're reading mine. Mmm. That's so nice . . ..