1925

The woman's long, long red hair, down almost to her waist, swished around her as she moved around her garden. Her shirtwaist was short-sleeved, revealing arms muscled and freckled, marking her as a hardworking farmer's daughter. Her dark green plaid skirt matched her eyes, which glinted with determination, as she tugged out a particularly stubborn weed. She was unusually tall for a woman, and her long un-bobbed hair, her unapologetically freckled countenance, and the frequency with which some rather unladylike language escaped her mouth all marked her as unique, but beautiful, unlike any woman—

"So, is she an elf?" Candy's cheeky voice was suddenly in Dipper's ear, "A witch? Is there an infestation of pixies in her bushes?"

"No," Dipper said, shaking his head.

"Well, if memory serves, we are here to observe the paranormal. So, what is it? What is so interesting about this woman that you're in her bushes?" Dipper sighed, knowing he was blushing violently. At the sound of Candy's voice, however, the woman turned her head towards them.

"Who's in my bushes? Come on out and show yeselves?" Dipper wanted to shrivel up of embarrassment but her tone wasn't angry, and even a slight bit entertained.

"I'm sorry, ma'am," He apologised, "I'm a researcher, and I've been–"

"Aye, I know," she answered, "Everyone knows about the two of ye. Mysterious, a wee bit odd, and always chasin' things up in the woods, and rarely in town. Can I invite ye in for a cup of tea?"

"We'd love that," Candy answered.

"Well, come on in," she waved her hand.

"Thank you, ma'am," Dipper said, but she cut him off.

"Wendy will do," she laughed, "Now, do ye have a name, or must I call you 'Sir'?"

"Oh, no, you can call me Dipper, Dipper Pines." he said quickly. Too quickly. "I mean, that's not my…but I guess you can–"

"You ramble a lot, aye?" Wendy said, with another chuckle as she lead them into the house, "And you must be Mrs Pines?" she turned to Candy.

"Oh, no, no," Both Dipper and Candy shook their heads violently and decisively, "We're not–no, no."

"Oh, sorry," Wendy was laughing quietly, "So, you're definitely not married then?"

"No," Candy said, with a cheeky glance at Dipper, "My friend is a very eligible bachelor. He's wealthy, too." Dipper glared at Candy, knowing what she was doing. Candy looked delighted to have provoked this reaction.

"So, I know you're not married, but I still don't have a name for ye, Not-Mrs-Pines?"

"Candy Chiu," she replied, "Research assistant and engineer."

"Nice to meet you, Candy," Wendy smiled, "So, what is it the two of ye are here to research? I can't see there being much out here besides trees."

"Well, I don't know if you've noticed, but there are some…odd things around here. Supernatural things."

"Now that you mention, my father and brothers have brought back many tales about mysterious creatures in these woods, but I just figured they were lumberjack legends."

"Don't discount lumberjack legends." Dipper said, "They're what brought us here. From what I could discover it sounds rather like this is the strangest place in the country, so where better for a pair of paranormal investigators to set up."

"He loves the sound of the words 'Paranormal Investigator' and will refer to himself as such as frequently as he can" Candy announced, seemingly determined to embarrass Dipper.

"Well, it does sound very impressive," Wendy said, giving him a grin, "So, your deal is that ye investigate oddities, aye?" They both nodded. "Because there's a cave not far from here, and there's some funny markings on the walls, if ye need somethin' to do."

"Maybe we will have a look at it," Dipper said enthusiastically, perhaps too enthusiastically if Candy's face told him anything, "It sounds intriguing."


So that night, Dipper and Candy, each armed with a flashlight, made their way down to the cave.

"Remind me why we are doing this by night?" Candy asked.

"Because darkness is the best time to observe the paranormal," Dipper said, "Also, we don't know whether the cave is on someone's property and we don't want them to know that we're trespassing."

"If you had led with the last reason, I would be in no confusion." Candy said, "I am perfectly happy to avoid getting in trouble with law enforcement. I wish Wendy had given us better directions though. Her description was frustratingly vague."

"We'll find it," Dipper said, "And her instructions were fine."

"You would say that," Candy grumbled, "They say that love blinds you."

"Love? Why are we talking about—"

"You are a silly idiot, Dipper," Candy shook her head, "I mean, a very intelligent silly idiot who I care about very much, but you can very often, be a very silly idiot."

"Candy, do you have any idea how many times you said the word 'very' in that sentence?" Dipper had always had a tendency to nitpick the factual and grammatical correctness in people's sentences, particularly when he wanted to avoid the actual content of what they were saying, a habit that had always infuriated Mabel. Candy, however, saw straight through him, as she always did.

"That's completely irrelevant, Dipper. You are being evasive in the extr–"

"Shhh," Dipper was peering closely at the cave wall, trying to make sense of what he saw. Painted there was a large ring, in ten segments, each with a different insignia inside. His eye was drawn immediately to one segment in which there was a pine tree symbol, somewhat like the patch that was stitched onto the trusty newsboy cap he still wore everywhere. But what really stood out to him was the centre of the circle, where there was a triangle figure, with one staring eye, and a top hat.

"Whoa," he breathed, "This is so weird…but so intriguing"

"It says DO NOT SUMMON HIM," Candy said, "I wonder who 'him' is. The triangular fellow, I guess?"

"Well, there's only one way to find out," Dipper replied, looking at the incantations written on the wall, and writing them in his notebook.

"No, Dipper," Candy scolded, "You are not going to do that,"

"But–" the thrill of discovery and the heat of curiosity was threatening to overwhelm Dipper's reasoning.

"It says Do. Not. Summon. Do you understand what those words mean?"

"But–"

"We are leaving," Candy grabbed his hand, "We have investigated this cave. The cave paintings are odd, sure, but not paranormal."

"Candy, that's terrible investigation," Dipper argued as they walked away, "You can't just dismiss it because you don't want to. That's really unscientific."

"Dipper," Candy said, turning to him with urgency in her eyes and voice, "I have a very bad feeling about this. That symbol–the triangular fellow–it sends shivers down my spine. We should not mess with this, Dipper."

"Okay, you win," he said, and followed her out of the cave, but his mind was still ticking over. What could this symbol, these incantations, mean? And surely I can handle whatever it is. This isn't the kind of mystery I can just leave unsolved.

"Don't even think about it," Candy said in a warning tone.

"I won't," Dipper lied. Oh, I will.


Meanwhile, over the last few years, Mabel had been making her way east, never staying in one city for more than a few months. This was partially to avoid the police on her back, but she craved the thrill of adventure, which as well as moving frequently, led to her undertaking more and more illegal activities. In addition to making her own alcohol, she'd taken a more active role in its distribution. Between the late nights, the danger and intrigue of breaking the law, and of course, all the homemade moonshine, it was easy for her to pretend that she wasn't lonely, that she didn't feel fulfilled in what she was doing. She was getting old, at almost twenty-six, to still be partying her nights away, and she was terribly aware that her life was slipping away from her. Most girls her age were married by now, most with children, and meanwhile Mabel instead seemed like the perfect example of what not to be: lonely, living paycheck to paycheck and a criminal and borderline alcoholic to boot. She sometimes wondered if she should try writing to Dipper again, but shook the thought out of her head. He never even wrote back the first time. He hates me. No, Mabel, you're just gonna have to get through this by yourself. It's time for good ol' Mabel the Indomitable to rise above.

After all, when you were this close to rock bottom there was nothing else to do but rise above, surely.