"Watch your step!" Mabel said, yanking Dipper back onto the sidewalk. Her brother had, once again, stepped off the curb, so engrossed was he in the journal covering his face.
"Hm?" Dipper said, looking up. He hadn't even noticed.
Mabel rolled her eyes. "Do you have to read that thing now? I mean, couldn't you at least wait until we're standing still or something?"
"Sorry," Dipper replied. "Just brushing up. I figure, if Gideon's death was due to anything, you know, supernatural, I'd like to be able to diagnose it as soon as possible."
His sister snorted. " 'Diagnose'? Sorry, I wasn't aware that you were Gideon's doctor." She threw an arm out to stop Dipper from walking into a crosswalk ending with an orange "Don't Walk" sign. "Besides," she continued as the sign changed to "Walk", "you don't even know for sure it was a magic-y death. We know that he died, but we don't know if he was killed by a curse, or stabbed, or just had a heart attack or whatever."
"I somehow doubt that a nine-year-old had a heart attack," Dipper answered. "And anyway, the news report said that the cause of death hadn't been ascertained, and they didn't know for sure if it wasn't natural. If he had been stabbed, there wouldn't have been any doubt."
"So you automatically figure it's gotta be something magic?"
Dipper shrugged. "This is Gravity Falls. Everything is something magic."
"Well, anyway, reading time's over," Mabel said. "The Tent of Telepathy is just around the-"
The twins turned the corner, and they both froze in their tracks. The entire street was packed with a barrage of cars, very few of which belonged to police. Yellow tape bordered the tent, but security guards were still having to take up posts to prevent the crowd of people from crossing. A select few members of the crowd seemed to be crying, some were yelling at the security guards, and nearly all of them were wearing light-blue Li'l Gideon T-shirts, or Li'l Gideon hats, or waving around Li'l Gideon flags.
"Right," Dipper muttered. "Nearly forgot Gideon had fans."
Mabel shuddered. "Ugh, it's so creepy," she muttered.
"What, the fan club? Says the girl who got kicked out of the Dream Boy High fan convention. Twice."
Mabel didn't so much as flinch. "If they didn't want enthusiasm, they shouldn't have had a fan convention. Anyway, there goes your plan to start looking for clues, huh?"
"Not necessarily," Dipper said slowly. He waved to Mabel to follow him. Together, they shoved their way through the crowd, and all the Gideon-plastered merchandise, until they had reached the front. Dipper put it his hands on the police tape and cleared his throat loudly at a security guard standing at the tent's entrance. "Excuse me!" he called out.
"Yeah?" the guard called back, not even bothering to move.
"I know this may not be entirely orthodox, but my sister and I, see, we were really close friends of Li'l Gideon, when he was alive, I mean, and we'd really appreciate it if-"
"You're not getting into the tent, kid," the guard cut him off, unfazed.
"Oh, come on!" Mabel piped up. "It's Mabel! You know, Gideon's girlfriend? I was in at least one magazine with him. Don't you recognize me?" She gave him an enormous, braces-filled smile.
The guard rolled his eyes. "Nice try. Look, if I were to believe this mob, every single person here was Gideon's closest friend, or his cousin, or whatever. In fact, I believe five different ladies behind you have come forth as the kid's grandmother."
"It's true!" an old woman shouted from several rows back.
"Aw, shut it, you're not fooling anyone! So, anyway, know. If you came to get a peek at the body or whatever, you're gonna be disappointed. If you want to stand at a distance and stare at the tent for hours on end like this lot, be my guest."
Dipper grumbled something and turned away. Mabel followed as he made his way back out of the crowd. "I think that went well," she said cheerfully.
Her brother raised an eyebrow at her. "Exactly how did that go well?"
"Well, we found out that it's definitely a crime scene, so we know for sure that it wasn't a natural death."
"I guess that's true."
"And we also discovered that Gideon has at least five grandmas."
Dipper slapped his forehead. "Right. I'll be sure to keep that in mind."
The two of them turned the corner back onto the main road, and began heading toward home. "So, what now, Dipping Sauce?"
"Well, we'll keep an eye on the news. Anything interesting comes out, we'll want to be on top of it right away. Still, the cops aren't going to be looking out for paranormal stuff. So, once the crowds clear and the police stuff winds down-"
"That's when we take over?" Mabel finished for him.
Dipper nodded. "Exactly."
Downtown, the gears had been turning in the setting up for the Midsummer Festival. Workers bustled about along town square and its surrounding streets, trying to keep track of which booth went wear and needed which materials. Several rides had been brought in on a parade of flatbed trucks, and sat half-assembled in the afternoon sun.
At the Community Center and Buffet, people milled about, setting up tables and centerpieces, with programs at each seat. Garlands of roses adorned the tops of the walls, their finishing touches being added by the workers on enormous steel ladders.
On the stage, a woman stood, nearly still as a statue. Dark brown curls draped her sharp face and fell halfway down the back of her slim figure. A bright white spotlight moved slowly across the stage and positioned itself so that she was in the exact center. "Got it!" a different woman called from her place on the balcony. She was dressed in simple blue jeans and a gray T-shirt, and had her honey-blonde hair in a pony tail. She shot thumbs up toward the stage her other hand still on the spotlight she had just finished adjusting. "That should be all the light cues for opening night, right, Miss Thorn?"
Rose Thorn looked around her, then shook her head. "I don't like it. Are you sure this was how we blocked it, Joanne?"
Joanne sighed. "No, it's not. But you said-"
"Well, I changed my mind. It's too blinding, and the spotlight will wash out the costume. Tell you what: how about we do two spotlights, one tinted red, the other blue, neither too bright, have them both on me at once? And maybe the footlights, too, not too much but enough for a nice effect."
"You mean, exactly what I suggested yesterday?" Joanne replied.
"Did you?" Rose asked, sounding thoroughly disinterested. "Hm, you probably should have spoken up, then. Either way, set it up." She snapped her fingers.
"Uh, Miss Thorn?" another voice, male this time, called from the wing of the stage.
Rose let out a dramatic sigh. "Yes, Kenneth?" she asked, clearly irritated.
"It's noon. You said that would be our lunch break."
Rose groaned. "I really just need to stop saying things, don't I? Fine, whatever, take your lunch break." She turned back to the rest of the hall. "Everyone, go ahead, you've got thirty minutes, no more."
The spotlight clicked off as the house lights slowly faded back on. Joanne rushed to the balcony staircase, as the workers in the main hall set down their tools and filed out. Rose stepped down off of the stage, then flinched as she heard a loud rustling behind her. She turned to see one end of the enormous, rose-emblazoned banner that had been draped along the top of the stage had dropped to the floor.
"And would someone please hang that back up?" she snapped. Silence met her, and Rose looked about to see that everyone had already left for lunch. "Oh, never mind," she grumbled, "I'll do it myself."
She lifted a delicate hand and pointed to the fallen end of the banner. At the flick of her finger, the banner shot up of the ground and snapped back into place, as easily as if she had picked up a tissue. With one last satisfied nod, Rose made her exit.
A/N: To my American readers, hope you had a great Thanksgiving! To my non-American readers... um, hello, I guess. Yeah, yeah, haven't updated in a while. Been working on my semester projects for classes. But, I'm done or nearly done with all of them now, so here, this year, you can be thankful for another chapter! Favorite, follow, and review!