Shot to the Heart
(August 1-3, 2014)
Chapter 6: "Off to Neverland"
Sweating like a stevedore on a Manilla dock, Love God worked the stage in the last song of his set, his musicians—the group called themselves Orfeus—laying down a heavy beat and a ringing guitar melody. He danced on the edge of the stage, fist pumping, encouraging the audience to clap along as he sang:
Loooooove tonight! Looooove's so right!
Geeeeet in tight! Baby, baby, Love me tonight!
Doooo it right! Blaaack or white!
Wronnnnng or right! Love me tonight!
Danny Orf whaled away, shredding his axe so hard his fingers must be bleeding. Pete Pane snapped his seventh drumstick, snatched up an eighth, and didn't miss a lick. Johnny Pollo, the bassist, kept up a funky rhythm.
The crowd was—well, no other word—was loving it. Everybody, including Manly Dan, was up, dancing, jumping, swaying, clapping their hands over their heads. As the instrumental part picked up even more steam, Love God screamed, "Yea-ah! That's what I'm talkin' about! Play it, guys!"
He hauled up a girl onto the stage—for all his pudginess, he seemed to have great strength—and they danced wildly together. Then he bent her back and kissed her hard on the mouth, the audience screaming and cheering. The musicians cut the sound back a little as Love God said into the microphone, "How was that, baby?"
"Oh!" the girl squealed, "I love you!"
"Heh-heh! See me after the show, babe! In my . . . van!"
The audience screamed as he set the girl down off the stage, waved a hand at his band, and the music crescendoed again as he hit the last part of the song:
Dousssse that light! I . . . wonnn't bite!—much!
Let your soullll . . . take flight! It's . . . all right!
Lettttt's not. . . fight! Girl, hit . . . the height!
Let's love, make love, sweet love—tonight!
Tonight! Let me hear you say it! Tonight!
When we gonna make love? Tonight!
Do the horizontal boogie! Tonight!
Guys, make her feel all right—
Tonight!
Tonight!
To-hoo-hoo-hoo-NIGHT!"
The crowd gave him thunderous applause, and he hoarsely yelled, "Thank you, Gravity Falls! Download my album! Peace and love, people! Peace and love!"
As the group took its last bow and went offstage, Dipper said, "Well, that happened."
"He's kinda dumpy," Wendy said—loudly, the crowd was still yelling—"but, man, he rocks! That was fun!"
"Hey," Dipper said, "is that Mabel?"
Wendy craned. So many people were on their feet in the audience that—despite their advantage of being on the hillside—it was hard to see the stage. "Yeah, I think it is! She must be announcing for Sev'ral Timez!"
Mabel had the microphone. "Give it up for Love God and Orfeus!" she said—three times, because the crowd noise was still drowning it out. They finally responded with applause and cheers.
Then Mabel said, "Yeah, he's a great guy! Well, how you doin'? Great! I'm Mabel Pines, and I'm here to bring on five guys who'll make you ladies get in the mood, you know what I mean?"
At that moment, Love God, still onstage but behind the curtain, stopped chugging an energy drink and did a spit-take. "Mabel Pines?" he asked.
Johnny Pollo, busy disassembling the drum kit (they were their own roadies) said, "Huh?" He hadn't had good hearing since 1066, when the group had played Hastings.
"I thought she looked familiar!" Love God said. "Well, at least she's not match-making any more!"
On stage, Mabel was saying, "I got a feeling a lot of you girls are gonna get all smoochie after this next set! An a lot of you guys are gonna get lucky! 'Cause I'm the greatest matchmaker in the world!"
And backstage, Love God's face turned scarlet. "What!"
"Plus," Mabel was saying, "my brother's favorite group can't be here, but hang on! Coming up is our tribute to BABBA! Bear with us! Literally! And now—if you're ready—they're ready! It's my pride and your pleasure—back again after too long—welcome Sev'ral Timez!"
"She's still doin' it!" Love God said. He peeked through a narrow gap.
The audience was cheering as the five members of Sev'ral Timez bounded out on stage, striking a pose and waiting for the shrieks of the girls to die down. Mabel was urging them on, waving her hands—though one gripped the cordless mike. "Little meddler!" Love God muttered.
"Now," Mabel said, "I'm gonna go find my special someone—he's here, he's dreamy, and he's all mine, so hands off! And together with all of you, I'm gonna enjoy Sev'ral Timez, one more time! Take it, Deep Chris!"
Two things happened at once. First Love God murmured, "You got a sweetie, huh? Let's make that interesting!" And he aimed a finger and sent a zap flying out.
And second, Mabel tossed the mike to Deep Chris and leaped off the stage.
The invisible beam barely missed her.
But . . . it did find a mark.
The group had come up with a brand-new song, "Together Again for the Very First Time (Yo!)" and they launched into it, harmonizing beautifully. The audience began to sigh and moan. Well, the girls did. Be fair, some of the guys, too.
Up on the hillside, Vanilla took Thompson's hand and said, "Oh, I used to love this group! This is so nice, Tommy!"
Tambry and Robbie, who had given a well-received set of seven songs earlier that day with Tombstone, had joined their friends on the hillside. "Huh," Robbie said in a grumbly voice. "I guess it's OK to like this song, if this song is the kind of thing you like."
"They're not gonna rock 'em the way we did, though," Tambry said, kissing Robbie on the cheek.
Pam said, "Shh! I wanna hear this. I had their picture on my bedroom wall!"
For a few seconds, they all listened to the songs, but then Wendy said irritably, "You guys!"
"What?" Cindy asked, sounding surprised. She was sitting on Nate's lap.
"You know," Wendy said, nearly growling. "Dipper, wanna walk me to the exit? I feel kinda sick."
"Oh, my gosh!" Dipper said. "What's the matter? Was it the churro? I shouldn't have bought you the churro!"
"Let's just go, OK?"
They made their way to the back of the crowd, then edged around them as Sev'ral Timez went into "You Got Me Ackin' So Cray-Cray" and a lot of the girls in the audience seemed to take that so much to heart they went cray-cray in sympathy. "Oh, God," Wendy groaned as they got near the exit. "There's Pacifica! Let's go before she spots you, man."
They went through the gate and Dipper said, "Should I call Soos?
"No, I'm OK," Wendy said. "I just—you know, the way the girls were acting back there. It gets me, man. I hate the way they go after a guy, you know?"
"Uh—OK," Dipper said. "You're all red in the face. Here, I'll get you some water."
"That would be nice."
Dipper ran to a booth where they were selling eight-ounce bottles of water for $7.50 each and bought one. At least it was cold. Then when he got back, he didn't see Wendy anywhere. He took out his phone and speed-dialed her.
A second later, she answered. "Hey, Dip."
"Where'd you go? I've got your water."
"Made a stop at the Portable Potties. Listen, I'm gonna leave a note for my dad in his truck, then let's just go to the Shack, OK? I must've overdone it."
"Sure," Dipper said. "Where should I meet you?"
"Head of the driveway into the lot. Wait there for me. I'll be just a minute."
It was more like ten, but finally she came striding along, hanging onto her purse—it had a long strap, but she didn't have it over her shoulder. "Sorry, man," she said. "'S what you get for datin' an old lady."
"Come on," Dipper said, laughing. "It was probably the churro. Here."
He opened the water and handed her the bottle. "You're so nice to me, Dip," she said. "You prob'ly get tired of waiting on me hand and foot. Speaking of which, that was a memorable foot rub, dude. Here's to you!" She raised the bottle and then took a long drink. "That's better. Maybe I was like, dehydrated. Feel like walkin' all the way to the Shack?"
That wouldn't be so hard—they ran nearly that far most mornings—but Dipper said, "Soos is coming down the street with the tram. We can just wait and hop on when he starts back."
"OK."
Another five minutes for the tram to unload—not that many people now that the festival was in full swing—and to come back empty except for Soos. "Climb aboard, dawgs," he said cheerfully. "There's, like, not much demand for the tram now, so I'm gonna operate on an on-demand basis. They call me when they want to be picked up, and I'll go get them. Oh, hey, guess what? We gotta close the gift shop in the Mystery Bus 'cause, like, we sold totally out of merch! Lucky I put in a rush order for new stuff before the suppliers closed Friday! Otherwise, when we open the Shack on Monday, we'll have nearly zilch to sell!"
"There's still the museum and the Mystery Tour, though," Dipper said. "You ought to get Gideon to be the Wolf Boy. I know he usually does that on weekends, but it'd be something for the tourists."
"Good idea!" Soos said. They made the turn and rumbled toward the Shack, going only a little faster than Dipper and Wendy could have walked it.
Dipper took Wendy's hand. Are you going home?
-Don't think so. My brothers are over at my aunt's house today and tomorrow. Don't want to kick around alone. Want to come with me, though?
Might not be a good idea. Manly Dan.
-Dude, he's mesmerized as long as Sev'ral Timez is gonna do another set tomorrow.
Yeah, but you never know.
-Dip? You love me, don't you?
What? Wendy! You know I do!
-Yeah, but—oh, never mind. I dunno what's wrong with my head today!
She pulled her hand away, making Dipper's throat tighten. What did I do? It must be the churro. I know it was the churro! Why did I buy her the damn churro?
They arrived at the Shack and Soos parked the tram. Today the lot was maybe three-quarters full. "Surprised Stan didn't insist on charging people to ride the tram," Dipper said.
"Yeah, but he's takin' like twenty bucks a head to park here," Wendy reminded him. "And about half of the people who do wind up goin' through the Mystery Bus. Stan's making out all right. Hey, let's go sit in the bonfire glade."
"Sure. Are you feeling better?"
"Meh, I've still got this weird buzzy thing goin' on, but yeah, I think it's a little better."
"Maybe we should drive over to the clinic. It could be food poisoning."
"Dude, I'm hardly ever sick. Just too much sun or something."
They walked to the glade—the day had heated up, and cicadas rasped in the trees. They sat side by side on the log, and Wendy sighed. "Pacifica would take you away from me in a heartbeat, Dip. She's really got a crush on you."
"I told her it wouldn't work out, though," Dipper said. "And she's got Adam."
"Man, she'd drop him like a sledgehammered cow if you smiled at her." Wendy took a long, unsteady breath. "She's pretty. Getting prettier. I think she's probably the prettiest girl in Gravity Falls."
Dipper put his arm around her. "Not to me. You're my Lumberjack Girl. You're my Magic Girl. Nobody can beat that."
"But if Pacifica really went for you—dude, I know guys. No offense, but you're all driven by hormones or some biz. It would be impossible not to give in."
"As Mabel would say," Dipper responded, "Pfffbbbbt! Fat chance. And you'd be surprised how well I could resist her."
"Yeah, but there's Tambry," Wendy said.
"Well, I—wait, what?"
"Haven't you noticed how she looks at you?" Wendy asked. "Between you and me, I think now that she and Robbie are, you know, sleeping together, she's starting to wonder if she might not have a better choice."
"Wubba," Dipper said. "Bah-buh-bubba." He finally got control of his tongue again: "Tam-Tambry? You think she likes me? I mean, TAMBRY? Come on!"
"She already took Robbie after I broke up with him!"
"Yeah, and they're crazy about each other. I mean, they're both Goth and all!"
"You just don't always notice. Cindy and Pam, too! I saw them glancing at you, man. That's also why Vanilla got those henna tatts, you know—trying to catch your eye. 'Cause all I got's these damn freckles!"
"Your freckles are beautiful!" Dipper said.
"Dipper? Would you go for a ride with me?"
"Sure. Uh—where?"
"Just ride around, clear my head. Now that everybody's out at the field, there's, like, no traffic. I know some quiet spots. I think that's what I need right now."
They walked back to the Shack and Dipper got into the passenger's seat of the Dodge Dart. Wendy opened the back door and put her purse back there. It seemed to take her a couple of minutes. Then she got behind the wheel. "Dipper," she said, "I love you."
"Love you, too!" Dipper said. "You know I do."
"So—I'm sorry I have to do this, OK?"
"Do wh—"
Wendy suddenly pressed a folded bandanna against his face and held him tight. She was a strong girl. "Shh, shh, this won't hurt. It's OK, Dip. Just breathe. It's fine, I'm with you, it's OK."
The bandanna had a sweet smell, with sort of an alcohol edge. Dipper struggled a little, panicking. Sounds started to be weird, almost like someone had put the world on a wah-wah pedal, fading and coming back and fading more. His lips felt numb, and then the world started to turn purple. "Weh—" he said, his voice muffled by the cloth.
"Shh. Shh. I got you, Dip." She kissed his forehead, but he couldn't feel it. "Breathe for me. In and out, in and out."
He couldn't feel his arms, either. The purple haze began to throb in his vision, growing darker each time his heart beat. Then he felt a weird kind of euphoria—nothing mattered, he was with Wendy, she'd make it all right.
And then the deepest darkness closed over him softly, as though he had been taken up in the palm of a giant wearing a black velvet glove, and the fingers of unconsciousness closed and for Dipper the world was gone.