Wanderers from the Weird Side

(August 15, 2017)

7: Long Distance

When the crowd of tourists began to thin out a few minutes after four that afternoon, Wendy said, "OK, Dip, take off. I'll hold down the register while you go do your thing with Dr. P."

Though fewer shoppers browsed the gift shop at that point, the ones that were left loitered, taking forever to make up their minds. It took a little while for Dipper to get a clear shot about opening the hidden door with no customers around, but he managed it and hurried down into the lab.

He found Grunkle Ford working at a computer terminal. He nodded at Dipper and briefly held up a hand in a silent request for Dipper to wait. He sat in one of the chairs and watched his great-uncle keyboarding away, going very fast considering he appeared to use only four fingers.

After a couple of minutes, Ford leaned back and said, "Annnd . . . send. There. Sorry, Dipper, I had to approve the budget for the coming academic year and let the department heads know what they all have to work with. I'm very happy that the Institute is doing so well—we've had to turn students away!—but the minutiae of operations sometimes is annoying. However, now that my desk is now clear for the time being—what do you want to talk about?"

"I've been thinking about my theory," Dipper said. "I'm not sure about this. I need some confirmation before we go charging in with weapons."

Stanford chuckled. "I hardly thought this would be like a Wild West showdown. I hadn't exactly intended to gallop in with guns blazing."

Dipper didn't smile. "Yes, but if my guess is wrong, we may need to do something like that," he said. "I don't want to be responsible for anybody's getting hurt or worse. And I'm afraid whatever happens is going to be especially hard on Mabel, whether I'm right or wrong. You know how she handles guilt."

"To my memory, she shrugs it off," Ford said with a smile.

"She doesn't, though," Dipper said. "It's just that she doesn't show it until she's alone. If she feels she's done something wrong, she gets really, really depressed. She's had a tough time lately—the whole Woodstick thing wasn't her fault at all, but now she's second-guessing herself. I think she'll get over this pretty soon—the guys letting her sing on stage with them helped her a whole lot. But I don't want to add to her worrying."

Ford leaned back in his chair interlacing his twelve fingers. "Interesting. Stanley always told me you were the worrywart in the family."

Dipper smiled. "Yeah, he's right. I always have been, but that's me. I have tons of practice dealing with it. Mabel's always just done what she feels like doing at the moment. But more and more, after the dust settles, she frets about it when something goes wrong because of her, or because she thinks it was somehow her fault. And one big problem is she thinks she's a lot more responsible for things that really are just plain accidents."

"What do you propose to do about it?" Ford asked.

Dipper took a deep breath. "Well, I think there's only one person that can offer useful advice. But I can't seem to get in touch with him any longer."

Ford's expression hardened. "You mean Bill Cipher."

Dipper nodded. For a few seconds everything was so quiet that he could hear the whirring of a hard drive in one of the computers, and the soft rush of air as the air conditioner cranked up.

Stanford leaned back, his swivel chair squeaking, and gazed at the ceiling. "I'm anticipating his transition into the physical realm at the end of this month. I'm hopeful but uneasy. Since your link to him has decayed, I assume you're suggesting calling in the boy."

"Billy Sheaffer, yes. But it may be too early to involve him. I don't want to hurt him, either."

Ford was silent for a few minutes, musing. Then he said, "I suppose you want to call him and ask him to try to contact Cipher in his mind."

Dipper's voice sounded tight, high, and nervous even to him: "Yeah, something like that. But the first times that Bill spoke to me inside my head, it really creeped me out. And Billy's not used to it."

"Hmm. Is the Sheaffer boy suggestible?" Ford asked.

"I . . . don't know," Dipper said. He frowned a little as he thought. "He has a strong imagination, if that means anything. I've played video games with him and listened to him talk about stuff that he's excited about. I mean, you know, in a video game Billy really gets into it. Talks for the character he's playing and all. And he's the same way about topics that interest him. Dinosaurs. Ancient Egypt. When he talked about stuff like that, I could tell that he was putting himself back there in the Jurassic period, or back watching the Pyramids being built."

"That indicates suggestibility," Ford said. "Very well. He knows me. I don't know if he'd trust me—I behaved rather badly toward him when he once played the piano, a tune that has bad association for me. I think I frightened him."

"I really don't know," Dipper admitted. "He's never talked to me about you. But what do you have in mind?"

"Hypnotism," Ford said. "I've had training in the field and am a member of the ASCH. If I can put him under, I can walk him through attempting to communicate with Cipher and can leave a post-hypnotic suggestion that he forget the experience."

"That might work," Dipper said. "Would you have to be there? With him, I mean?"'

"No, not if we could do a two-way video talk with him. What do you call it?"

"Skype," Dipper said. "We can do that."

"Very well. Call him and see if you can persuade him to agree."

"OK," Dipper said. It wasn't exactly what he wanted to do, but something that he didn't think it was right to avoid.

Billy Sheaffer was surprised to get the call—he and Dipper texted each other pretty often, and he was hoping to come up in a week or so to watch Dipper and Wendy's wedding, but they rarely ever face-timed. Still, he was happy to talk.

"Listen," Dipper said, "can you get like an hour to talk to us, privately? Without being interrupted?"

"Yeah, I think so," Billy said. "I've just been hanging around, reading and stuff. Mom's taking my sisters for haircuts and then to shop for school clothes. I think they'll be gone until about six o'clock."

"Are you alone?" Dipper asked. He couldn't see much through Billy's phone camera, but he recognized the background—Billy was in their living room.

Billy said, "Um, yeah. I'm not supposed to answer the door if anybody rings the bell. I'm supposed to call your Mom if I need help or anything."

Dipper smiled. His own mother wouldn't have left him and Mabel at home alone at Billy's age. However, Mrs. Sheaffer was more trusting, and that was a bit of good luck.

Ford spoke to Billy, who didn't really seem to remember the event with the piano, and Billy came to understand what they were asking of him. "So Dipper needs me to try to talk to Bill Cipher?" he asked. "And you want to help me get into the right, uh, what is it?"

"Mind set," Dipper said.

"Yeah, that. And this is because Mabel's in trouble?"

"She could be," Dipper said. "That's what we're trying to find out." For a while there, Billy had held a pretty strong crush on his sister.

"Um. And I need to set up my laptop for the call and put it beside my bed and just lie there and follow your uncle's suggestions?"

"That's all," Ford said. "It'll be a big favor for Mabel. And afterward it won't bother you."

"Um. OK," Billy said.

Dipper set up the two-way communication on Ford's computer. In a few minutes they saw Billy's room—Dipper's old room, in fact—and then the boy's laptop computer was moved to a bedside table, so the picture focused on the bed and pillow. "Can you hear me OK?" Billy asked.

"Fine," Dipper told him. "Can you hear us?"

"Yeah, good."

"All right," Ford said. "Lie down on the bed and make yourself comfortable. Just listen to me . . . ."

Dipper sat quietly and listened to Ford's soft, reassuring voice. Billy turned out to be a good subject for hypnosis. Within minutes, he lay quietly on the bed, head turned toward the laptop, eyes closed, his breathing even and slow.

After a few minutes, Ford said, "Billy, your right arm feels very, very heavy. It's so heavy that you can't raise it. Try to lift it now."

Billy obviously struggled, but it was as though his arm really had become ponderously heavy. The bed even seemed to sag as he tried to raise his arm.

"Relax," Ford said. "Your arm is normal now. It feels completely normal. Raise it up to be sure. That's right. Now let it fall again and just relax. You're comfortable and safe. You're asleep, but you can hear me. You're feeling very well and happy. Now when I tell you, you'll be able to hear your friend Dipper, too."

To Dipper, Ford said, "He's in a deep trance. I'll turn him over to you. If he should become agitated, I'll step in. Ready?"

Dipper nodded. "All right," Ford said to Billy. "Here's your friend Dipper. Listen to him. As long as you listen to him, you'll be fine, and you'll be safe and comfortable. The next voice you hear will be Dipper's."

"Hi, Billy," Dipper said. "Listen carefully and do what I tell you." He described the Mindscape and told Billy to call out to Bill Cipher.

"Look for a yellow triangle," Dipper said.

"Yellow triangle," Billy repeated in a dreamy voice. "Bill Cipher. It's funny. It's like my house is all black and white. Like a real old movie."

"Look around," Dipper said. "Don't get up. Just imagine you're looking around your house. The triangle might be small."

"OK. Uh. Does it float?"

"Yes," Dipper said. "Do you see him?"

"Um, I think so. Hello? Bill Cipher?" A pause, and then Billy asked, "He says it's him. Did you hear him?"

"No," Dipper said. "You have to ask him to let you talk for him."

In a few seconds, Ford gasped as Billy smiled, his good eye opened, and his voice became high-pitched: "Oh, man, it's good to glimpse the physical world again! Hiya, Pine Tree! Sixer, long time, no seize! Ah-ha-ha! Don't worry, I'm being a good little polygon these days, trying to make up for being bad before. Good to see ya. What's up? Give me the low-down!"

"Bill," Dipper said, "I know you remember Weirdmageddon."

The talk lasted for twenty minutes. Then Ford took over, giving Billy the gentle suggestion that he would remember only a pleasant dream and not the details of what they had spoken about. Bill Cipher signed off with a sarcastic laugh and needled Ford with "See ya real soon, Sixer" and Dipper with "Hey, Pine Tree, be sure to give Red my best. Or your best, if you're man enough! Ah-ha-ha-ha!"

And then it was just a sleepy Billy Sheaffer, murmuring responses as Ford led him out of the trance.

When they were sure that Billy was fully awake and that he wasn't bothered or worried by what he had been through, Dipper told him he was looking forward to seeing him at the end of the month, and they said goodbye.

"Well," Ford said as the screen went dark, taking out a handkerchief and patting his face with it, "that was an experience I would not care to repeat. And this coming encounter may be much more dangerous than I had anticipated."

"Dangerous or not, at least it's going to be real unpleasant," Dipper said. "But we've got to do it."

"What time is it? All right, the business day ends in less than an hour. I suggest that we all gather up in your room immediately after the Mystery Shack closes. We'll need to strategize. All of us—you, Wendy, and especially Mabel—will have to be prepared for what we may confront."

"If they show up," Dipper said, "do you think they'll be—uh, aggressive?"

"Mason," Stanford said heavily, "I'm afraid the only way we're likely to discover that—is to show up and see what happens."