One Week of Wonder
2. Scapbookportunity
(August 23, 2015)
Probably it wouldn't have happened at all if the five girls had got even one wink of sleep overnight. Or if, down in Mabel's room, Dipper hadn't finally gone to sleep, exhausted from the intermittent noises of laughter and Grenda-poundings up overhead, at roughly four A.M.
But the sleep-deprived girls kept coming up with plans for fun, and this was one of them. Mabel suggested it sometime after five in the morning. Nobody was sure about the idea, until Mabel turned it into a dare, and then everyone agreed—even Wendy, who knew that if she opted for "truth" that Mabel could ask her questions she didn't want to answer in front of the others. However, Wendy solemnly cautioned Mabel "Don't let this get out, ever, OK?"
"Of course not!" Mabel said, and, to give her credit, she really meant it.
And at five-thirty they all tiptoed downstairs. Soos had repaired the rickety stairs, so none of them got splinters in their toes. They moved stealthily down the hallway.
Mabel silently opened her bedroom door—earlier in the summer, she had oiled the hinges so there'd be nary a creak on those occasions when she wanted to sneak away without rousing Soos and Melody down the hall—and they peeked inside.
Mabel always kept a small, dim night light on, and in its feeble glow, they could see Dipper lying sprawled on his back, mouth open, taking the long breaths of sleep, but dead to the world. "Wait," Mabel mouthed, and she beckoned to Candy, who followed her to the kitchen.
Grunkle Stan and Vlad had been in the Shack the previous Friday, and the recycling wouldn't be taken up before Tuesday, so they quickly rummaged in the glass bin until they found what they wanted and returned to where the others, stifling giggles, were standing just outside the bedroom door. Mabel held up a hand, tiptoed inside, and arranged things.
Then one by one, the girls went in—Wendy, Pacifica, Grenda, Candy. Mabel knew her brother. He slept deep and sound just before time to wake up, and they didn't disturb him as they set the scene. Then Mabel went in and stood at the foot of the bed, gesturing for little adjustments. Finally, it was perfect.
Dipper still lay with his mouth wide open and his head tilted back, blissfully unconscious. On the bed next to his head and even on the pillow, Mabel had arranged three empty brown bottles she had rescued from the recycling bin. They had once contained Rimrock Beer.
Wendy lay next to Dipper, on her side, one arm over his stomach, her hand spread on his lower chest, one long leg crooked over his. On Dipper's other side, Pacifica reclined, her lips close to Dipper's cheek, where she had carefully placed a red lipstick kiss mark without rousing him.
Candy lay at Dipper's feet, her arm around his left calf, her cheek nestled against his knee. Grenda lay on her tummy across the bed, Pacifica's feet on her shoulder, her own head resting lightly on Dipper's right thigh.
Barely holding in her giggles, Mabel found the right spot, stepped up on a chair for elevation, and snapped the photo. The room was so dark that the flash went off automatically, and Dipper woke up—"Huh? What? What's—Wendy? What are—"
"Surprise!" the girls all yelled as Mabel flicked on the light. She had quickly hidden the camera behind her back.
Grenda boomed, "Mabel dared us to come down and give you a thrill!"
"We are pretending you are great lover!" Candy chimed in. "Like Lee Mong-nyong!"
"This is like a farewell party—in bed!" Pacifica added impishly, rubbing her nose against his left cheek.
Wendy kissed his right cheek. "No harm, man. Just a little prank!"
Dipper groaned. "Don't do this kind of thing to me," he begged. He grabbed his pillow, and the bottle rolled off. "What the—beer bottles? Have you girls been drinking?"
"No!" Pacifica insisted. She hitched herself up and breathed right in his face. "See? No alcohol!"
"Why did you do this?" Dipper had pulled the pillow from behind his head and clutched it against his middle. Well, a little lower than his middle.
"It's just a joke, Brobro!" Mabel said, still giggling.
Candy sat up at the foot of the bed. "But is it not a nice way to wake you up, as if you were master of a harem?"
"No," Dipper said, his voice firm but not yelling. "No, it really isn't. Please. Just let me go back to sleep."
"Come on, girls," Mabel said. "There's no pleasing Mr. Grumpy-Grump!"
She turned out the light again, and Pacifica, Candy, and Grenda went out, each carrying an empty bottle. Wendy said, "Leave the door open. I'll be along in a minute."
They did.
Dipper got beneath the cover, groaning. "This is so embarrassing! Why'd you let them do this to me?" he asked Wendy.
She kissed his cheek. "Truth or Dare, man. I'm sorry. It really was just a prank. Are you very upset?"
Dipper's heart was beating too fast. He sighed. "It's just—Mabel, you know? She won't ever let me live this down."
Wendy had pulled a blanket around herself. She was still wearing the revealing light-pink negligee that Pacifica had given her. "Dip, I'm sorry," she said. "I haven't slept at all, and I guess my judgment is off. Mad at me?"
He took her hand.
—No. But I just wish Mabel would think before she pulls stunts like this. It's humiliating.
Won't happen again, Big Dipper. Go back to sleep. I'll make this up to you somehow.
—You don't have to. But they're all gonna tease me at breakfast time.
No, they won't. I'll speak to them about that. Get some sleep, Dip. Love you.
—Love you, too, Lumberjack Girl.
For a long time afterward, the incident really did seem to be forgotten. The girls finally got a couple of hours of sleep. At eight, when Wendy and Dipper made breakfast for everyone, the others came down droopy-eyed but happy. Wendy must have talked to them all, because nobody said anything to Dipper about the trick they had played on him.
He and Wendy took the morning off from running, but they had a nice long walk out to the hill overlooking Moon Trap Pond and back to the bonfire glade, and they wiped out any unpleasantness that the morning had left lingering.
That should have been the end of it.
However . . .
The one photo that Mabel had taken remained on the memory card in her camera. She didn't print it out and vaguely meant to erase it after showing it to Dipper. But what with one thing and another, it slipped her mind and just stayed there, stored electronically, just waiting.
Waiting silently.
Like a time bomb.