Haven Days

(June 2020)

7-Uphill Struggle

"But we almost never have visits from other Gnomes," Jeff said.

Patiently, Dipper explained, "There's a new disease in the outside world."

"Uh—we almost all live outside now," Jeff said. "Except for the Ferals. They still live underground, but there's probably not even a thousand of them down there now."

Dipper glanced at Wendy, who raised an eyebrow and shrugged. Gnomes are notoriously literal-minded. "I mean for people who don't live in Gravity Falls or in the Valley," he said. "For us humans. It's new and it's dangerous, and Grunkle Ford doesn't know whether or not Gnomes can get it, but there's a chance."

"Oh," Jeff said, nodding. "I don't understand."

Wendy took over: "Dude, Mayor Pines has ordered that everyone who lives in the Valley has to stay here in the Valley for maybe months. He's put precautions in force to prevent people with—you know what germs are, right?"

"I've read books," Jeff said. "Yes, they're invisible small things that make people and animals sick, right?"

They were sitting in the bonfire clearing. The old log had become so overgrown with moss and toadstools that the previous year Soos, with the help of Manly Dan, had hauled in a new replacement log. Dan had even planed off the top side of the new rustic bench to make it more comfortable. It was a perfect June morning, warm and sunny. Jeff had come at Dipper's request after Ford had asked about Gnomes traveling outside the Valley.

Dipper had told him that they had done so in the past—they traded with their cousin Gnomes in the Southwest and in the Southeast, and from time to time they had had some contact with European Gnomes. Ford, who had at last found time to shave—though now he needed a haircut—had nodded and said, "I understand, and I'm far from certain that COVERT-19 would even affect Gnomes. However, we know that the virus can become endemic in minks, so prudency suggests . . .."

"Well," Dipper said to Jeff, "there's a chance that the same virus—that's a type of germ—that causes the disease in humans might make Gnomes sick, too. So we'd like to ask that the Gravity Falls Gnomes stop visiting Gnomes from outside the Valley, and not allow them to visit your realm."

"That's not much of a problem," Jeff said thoughtfully. "Can things like gems and mushrooms get the germ?"

"No," Dipper said. "But germs might, uh, ride in on them. The good news is that Grunkle Ford knows ways of removing them from things like food and other items. He can give Winzinger a set of instructions for that."

"Because we usually Blink trade goods in and out. All right, if you'll tell us how to pick the germs off, we'll do it."

"Fine," Dipper said. "We wouldn't ask you, but Grunkle Stan wants to keep the Valley safe. And we want to make sure that you guys are safe, too."

"It's a deal," Jeff said. "Oh, Gemma and I are bonding this summer. Uh, would you two like to come to the ceremony? Representing the Humans?"

"Oh, we're happy for you!" Wendy said. She didn't add that they were relieved. At one time they had expected Jeff to marry a squirrel, if he was going to marry at all. Gemma was a young, well, relatively young, Gnome whom they knew. "You ought to be very happy together!"

Jeff beamed. "It will be on Sunstill Eve, in the Gnome Gathering Place at sunset. Gnomes will be wearing ceremonial robes, but if the two of you would wear green Human garments, that would please everyGnome. You don't have to, though."

"We'll do it," Dipper said, smiling. "Tomorrow I'll make sure that Winzinger gets the list of instructions on how to sanitize food and other items. Stan will set up a site at the entrance to the Valley. If you could get your trade goods, uh, Blinked into that place, then they could get the germs removed in just a few minutes, and then they'd be safe."

"Oh, the place where all the human homes were built?" Jeff asked.

Dipper said, "Close to that, a little further out of the Valley. We have a Human facility set up there to make sure that Human goods and foods are sterilized. I'll show you."

"Hey, man, thanks for inviting us to your wedding. Bonding, I mean," Wendy said. "People give gifts on those occasions. OK to give you Gnomes something?"

"Mushrooms and small saws!" Jeff said. "One's delicious, and one helps our workers cut wood!"

"You've got it," Dipper told him. "Thanks, Jeff, and congratulations again."

"Oh," Wendy said, "one more thing. You Gnomes are super at keeping an eye on everything that goes on in the Valley—"

"We are good at that," Jeff said proudly.

"Yeah, so if you guys see any birds, especially migrating birds, that are sick, or any squirrels or minks or other animals that are strangely sick, or that have died for no obvious reason, let us know right away."

"But don't approach them," Dipper warned.

Jeff looked very serious. "I will let everyone know," he said. "Even the ferals."

Wendy and Dipper walked back to the Shack with their arms around each other's waist. "Plugged another possible leak," she said.

"Yep," agreed Dipper. "The news says things outside are still getting worse, but so far, not one case inside the Valley. Hey, tomorrow morning Teek's quarantine is up. We ought to think about a welcome-back party for him."

"Yeah," Wendy said, grinning. "Assuming Mabel will let him leave the house and come home!"

"It's funny," Dipper said, "but if you and I had spent ten days living and sleeping together before we got married, Mom would have disowned me. She's completely OK with Mabel and Teek, though."

"They are engaged," Wendy said with a chuckle.

"Yeah, and I think Mom gave up on trying to make Mabel trying to behave in one or way or another about three years ago." He paused and then added, "I haven't told you, but this morning I spoke to Mabel on the phone—"

"Dude," Wendy said. "We've kissed. I know. Mabes and Teek are gonna ask your parents and his for their blessing to bet married this summer."

"Can't keep anything from you," Dipper said. "What's wrong?"

Wendy had stopped suddenly, head down. "Uh. Just got a sort of mental flash. There's gonna be a kinda bad storm tomorrow morning. If we want to welcome Mabes and Teek, maybe I better try to delay it a little."

"Do you get the time?" Dipper asked. Wendy had somehow—her aunt Sallie said it was a genetic trait among Corduroy women—had developed an uncanny ability to affect the weather.

Wendy took a deep breath of the piney air. "Can't get that close a read. I think probably between about six o'clock and ten, more or less. I won't try to keep it from coming in at all—don't want to affect the normal climate of the Valley or anything—but I can cause it to move faster so maybe it'll pass by eight, or else slower so it'll hold off until maybe noon."

"Which is easier?"

Wendy thought about that for a moment. "It's easier to speed it up," she said. "Only I'm not sure it'll be out of the Valley by nine or ten o'clock. Maybe earlier, maybe later. It's a little harder to slow it down, but I think if I start right now I can hold it off until about noon. I think that would be better."

"Yeah, because Teek and Sis are planning to have breakfast with us," Dipper said. "That means probably eight-thirty if Teek's in charge of the schedule or nine-thirty if Mabel's setting it. I guess later would be good, if it won't put too much stress on you. So, yeah, hold it back a little. What's involved? Thunder? Lightning? Hail?"

Frowning, Wendy said, "I get some wind, not real bad, maybe some lightning, no hail. That's another reason for holding it back. If it sped up, the winds would come in harder."

Dipper took her hand. —Seriously, don't push yourself too hard, Lumberjack Girl. It's not worth a migraine.

No sweat, Dip. It's not nearly as much a strain just to speed up or slow down a storm as it is to dissolve one. I'll take it easy.

They walked until the Shack came into view, and then Wendy said, "Give me a little room and I'll do my voodoo."

Dipper stepped back. For a few moments Wendy stood with head tilted back, staring up into the blue sky and taking long, even, deep breaths. She straightened her arms downward and then opened and closed her fists three times. From nowhere a little invisible whirlwind sprang up, silently swirling her long red hair around in a cloud. She grimaced once and with a deep sigh, she relaxed. Then aloud she said, "OK, thanks for making the change, weather forces."

She reached for Dipper's hand again. "Takes it out of you," he said, feeling how tired she was.

They started to walk again. "Yeah, little bit. But it's getting so it's not as stressful as it was at first. Favor?"

He felt it before she even asked. He said cheerfully, "I'd love to give you a long, relaxing foot massage, Wen!"

She kissed his cheek. "And that's another reason I love you, man."

That evening before dinner, Soos was visibly upset. "Bad news from Abuelita," he explained.

"Oh, honey," Melody said. The kids were playing out in the yard because Aunt Wendy had warned them it would rain tomorrow, so their squeals and laughter floated in from the side yard.

"Is your grandmother sick again?" Dipper asked anxiously.

Soos shook his head. "No, she's sorta getting' over it. It's somebody else that I don't even know, dude. An old priest down there in Mexico, Padre Palo, just died from COVERT. I mean, he was a priest, but he wasn't like her priest, but she knew him. He was, like, Abuelita's age, and they were friends from way back when they were classmates in school. She's so sad. I just wish that I could hug her and—and you know, comfort her."

"Oh, Soos. We're so sorry," Wendy said.

"Yeah," Soos said, nodding. "See, Father Palo knew that lots of people who got sick, and when they were in the hospital and intensive care and so on, he couldn't even visit them or pray with them, but anyway he kept visiting people who had it but were not so sick, and like wore the mask and all, but anyway—he caught it. He got it bad and was only in the hospital for like three days before—you know. Anyway, I mean Abuelita and my cousin aren't from his parish, and she hadn't even talked to him in years, but he was an old friend and—he's gone now and she feels so bad."

"But she's getting better?" Dipper asked.

"OK, but she says she still can't smell things so good and food tastes weird and junk. But she's walking around the house exercising and getting her strength back." Miserably, the big guy added, "I just wish so much she could come home."

She was home, actually, down in Mexico in her niece and nephew-in-law's big white tile-roofed hacienda-style house not very far from Tepic and only fifteen kilometers from the farm where she was born. She had shown them photos, telling them, "Is very sweet to sit on the balcony in the morning and look out over fields and orchards where I was young. Or in the evenings to go to the other side of the house and see the blue mountains. I remember so strong."

Still, Dipper knew what Soos meant. He had been raised by his Abuelita and really hadn't known his mother very well and had only the vaguest memory of his dad from childhood. For Soos, Abuelita's home was right here in Gravity Falls.

Soos cheered up a little as they had dinner—his kids always lifted his spirits. Then a little later Dr. Setter, the local veterinarian, called on them. "Could I speak to Dipper?" he asked when Wendy answered the door.

"Sure," she said. "Come in, Doc. I'll get him."

"Thank you, but I'll just wait here on the porch. It's nice and cool with this breeze."

Wendy found her husband in the parlor, laptop on his knees. He set it aside and met Dr. Setter on the gift-shop porch. He was a little grayer than he had been, but still stood very straight and had an open, good-natured face. "Hi," Dipper said. "Nice to see you again. Come in?"

"No, that's all right," the vet said with a smile. "I'd rather just stand here and enjoy the evening. How are you, young man?"

"Doing well," Dipper said. "My wife and I just finished college. You know Wendy Corduroy and I got married."

With a chuckle, the vet said, "I couldn't live in Gravity Falls and not hear about that! Congratulations on your degrees, and I hope you're both very happy. However, I've come to ask a favor. You know where the Manotaurs live, I think?"

"The Man Cave," Dipper said at once. "Sure."

"I need to get a message to them," Dr. Setter said. "And you understand them better than most, so I'm asking you to be my messenger, if you will. Or maybe my diplomat. They need to understand this is meant kindly, and they need to know it's very important."

"The virus," Dipper guessed.

In the early dusk, the doctor nodded as he half-turned to gaze out over the trees. "You're very quick," he said. "I've just spent a couple of hours with Dr. McGucket learning about his diagnostic tools and how to use them. Your great-uncle Stanford has asked me if we can persuade the Manotaurs to be tested for the virus—I don't think we'll find any infection, because Geetaur drops in from time to time, and I would have heard from him if any of them were seriously ill. However, just to be safe, Dr. Pines would like to clear them and to inform them about conditions outside the Valley."

"I'll be glad to go," Dipper said. He smiled. "I probably should take them all the jerky in the Shack, too It'll probably be past the sell-by date when tourists start coming again."

"If you can arrange for them, or even a small group of them, to come and see me, I'll explain about the virus and the need for testing," Dr. Setter said. "Tell me, do they ever leave the Valley at all?"

"I don't think so," Dipper said slowly. "Chutzpar once told me the Gravity Falls Manotaurs are the last of their kind. They have their own territory, and I think they stick close to it. Only a few of them come to town generally. Younger ones, mostly."

"That's my impression as well," Setter said. "Well, if you can persuade the Manotaurs to come to my clinic, or for me to rendezvous with them somewhere they'll be comfortable about meeting me, the testing is painless and rapid."

"Painless won't impress them," Dipper said. "I'll tell them that the test will reaffirm their manliness."

"Good plan," the vet said. He gave Dipper a few more details, then walked off, climbed into his battered white pick-up, and waved as he headed out of the parking lot.

Later, up in their room, Dipper told Wendy about the mission. "I'll have to go early," he said, "so that I can be back for breakfast."

"I'll go with you," Wendy said. "At least part way."

"Um, I'd love to have you, but better not. They're touchy about not allowing females into the Man Cave," Dipper said. "But if you'd like, we could drive up to Tower Hill Road. From there I can cut through the woods on foot, following the ridge. It's about a thirty-minute hike, and going in that way, I won't have to leap over any gorges."

"Sure, Soos can lend us his Jeep, and we'll do that instead of our run. How early?"

"Mabel and Teek will probably be here between eight-thirty and ten. Let's plan to leave at five-thirty. That will give me time to talk to Chutzpar and the others and we can be home by a little after eight."

"Sounds like a plan." She wriggled her toes. "I'm feeling better now."

"I'm glad," Dipper said. "I can massage your feet any time you feel stressed. Or any other part of you."

She gently pushed him back. "Later, man. Got to make my phone call right now!"

It was Wendy's evening to call her Aunt Sallie, and they had a short face-time conversation. After their hellos, right away Sallie said, "You're messing with the weather again."

"Yeah, just a little," Wendy said with her lopsided grin. "No biggie, though, just nudging a rainstorm so it slows down some. You and the animals OK?"

"So far," Sallie said. "My Second Sight tells me we can come through this thing safe enough. But I'm cutting down on my farming a lot. Sold the cows, Mabel's pigs are down there again, I've given away more than half of my chickens. Got the goats still. Slimming down the critter population gives me less to worry about and makes for less work, but it gets lonesome."

Wendy said seriously, "You ought to come down to the Valley and stay with Dad and Ruby."

"You ought to know better than to say that to a stubborn old Corduroy," Sallie said, but good-humoredly. Then, sounding more serious, she added, "I've heard that the hospital in Mossy Run can't take any more ICU patients right now. Wish the doctors'd come up with the vaccine they keep talking about. And I surely do wish I could see you, Dipper, and Mabel face to face. Anyway, keep safe."

"You, too," Wendy said.

She snuggled up to Dipper, and he put his arm around her and for a while they just cuddled.

The Sheaffers had moved into the apartment that the McGuckets made available to them, and now the twins had their own room and Billy had one as well. It was between his parents' room, the big guest room where the windows looked out over the back yard and toward the mountains, and his sisters' room on the other side. Sometimes one of them would look in on him at night because they'd heard him muttering in his sleep.

He was having dreams again.

Strange dreams, too, though not exactly nightmares. Sometimes he saw flashes of light in the darkness—and the flashes took the shape of jagged red X's, dozens of them, whirling and flickering and then fading.

That night, late, he had such a dream.

But it was different this time—he was aware that all the X's were in fact quite tiny, microscopic.

And that night they didn't just shimmer and sparkle and go out. They moved like, oh, a cloud, maybe or more like a school of fish. Then something happened to them.

Billy woke up with a gasp.

The clock beside the bed told him it was nearly three o'clock in the morning.

All the same, he switched on a lamp, retrieved his phone from its charging stand, and started to punch in Dipper's number.

Then he hesitated.

"I gotta call Fordsy instead," he told himself silently.

Then, aloud, he said, "Dr. Pines, I mean. Why did I call him-?"

Maybe he'd better wait until daylight, at least.

Then he thought again. No. My human mind can't always remember dreams.

Human mind? What do I mean by that?

Didn't matter. He knew what he had to do. He climbed out of bed and quickly dressed.

Downstairs, barefoot, and to the side door, where he sat on the floor and pulled on his sneakers. From the hallway, the chair robot clattered up behind him.

"It's OK," Billy told Chair Main Miaow, looking over his shoulder. "I'm just going out. I may be some time."

"Be careful," the chair said in a Queen Anne kind of voice.

Out into the sleeping night. The sky, overcast, glowed dimly, reflecting the few lights of town. Billy trotted downhill, down the long driveway, then passed through the town, the stoplights blinking. It was about a mile from the farther town limit to Gopher Road, then uphill toward the Mystery Shack.

Before reaching that, Billy turned off and walked down a curving driveway to Stanford and Lorena Pines's house.

He hesitated on the front porch. Then he rang the doorbell.

He did not ring again, and in about two minutes the porch lights came on and Stanford Pines opened the door. "Billy?" he asked, sounding astonished.

"Please don't yell at me," Billy asked, suddenly finding it hard to speak. He stared down at the toes of his sneakers. "I—I have to tell you—I—"

"Come in," Ford said, standing back.

From somewhere in the house, Lorena called, "Dear? What is it?"

"I've got it," Ford said. "It's all right." He led Billy into the parlor. "Here, sit on the sofa. Billy, what's wrong? Do your parents know you're here?"

Without even moving toward the sofa, Billy collapsed, not passing out, but just dropping down to hunker on the floor. Then, in a higher-pitched voice, he said, "Sixer! Listen to the kid! While he's been sleeping, I've been meandering in the Mindscape. I've got news for you. And I think it's important!"

When Billy raised his chin, Ford shivered.

The iris of Billy's good eye—his only eye—was yellow. And the pupil was dark and slitted.