Shot to the Heart

(August 1-3, 2014)

Chapter 7: "Nice Day for a Gack Wedding"

"Mabel!" Robbie said urgently on the phone, "where's Dipper?"

It was getting on toward break time—six o'clock—and the nostalgia block was coming to an end on the stage. Mabel looked up in surprise from where she sat on the hill next to Teek. "Huh? Dipper?" She stood up and looked around. Not far away she saw Nate, Lee, and Thompson and their girls, but Wendy and Dipper seemed to be AWOL. "Uh, I don't see him. Just a minute."

"Where are you going?" Teek asked, standing up and pushing his round glasses back into place. The afternoon had turned hot, and in addition to sporting a sunburn, he was sweating in the swelter and had a nose-slide problem.

"Be back in just a sec," Mabel told him. Into the phone, she said, "Checking now, Robbie."

The group looked up and waved as she approached. "Miss Smile Dip!" Lee sang out. "Cool show, huh?"

"Yeah. Guys, where's Dipper?" Mabel asked.

Nate shrugged. "Wendy and him checked out early, during Sev'ral Timez's set."

"Whaaat? They walked out on my boys?" Mabel remembered the phone. "Uh, Robbie, hi, apparently Dipper's already left. Why?"

"Oh, man," Robbie said with a groan. "We're about to go onstage to do that quick set of three numbers, and I specially wanted him to hear the first one!"

"Um—I'll do a video," she told him.

"Not cool. That's not allowed."

"It is if you're Mabel Pines!" She thumbed off the phone and ran back and grabbed Teek's hand. "C'mon, we gotta get up to the stage!"

She half-dragged him through the gate, around to the VIP entrance, back inside the fence, and then to the front left corner of the stage—inside the "Do Not Cross" tape, but she gave a thumbs-up to a Security guy, who grinned and nodded.

She held up her phone as the last nostalgia group took their bows and made their exit. "Rats, I'm not tall enough! Teek, could you lend a hand?"

"Sure," he said, reaching out. "I'll take the video."

Mabel shook her head impatiently. "Not what I had in mind. Turn around. Not completely, just face the stage. Comin' aboard!" She climbed up on his back. "Stand still, now!"

"Uh—I'll try," Teek said, feeling a little unsteady under her.

"OK, still need altitude, gonna sit on your shoulders! Bend your head forward! Hold onto my legs!"

"Uh, sure," Teek squeaked as she clambered up, using his ears for handholds while she clenched her phone between her teeth. He had never felt a girl's sweat-damp thighs against his cheeks before. For a dude who's about to turn sixteen, that is always a solemn and life-changing moment.

But, since he was made of stern Irish stuff, he gripped Mabel's shins and held on tight. She leaned her elbows on his bent head and said, "Perfect! Good as a tripod! Hold that pose. And hold onto me!"

She'd found her position just in time, because Robbie V. and the Tombstones made their entrance, slouching onto the stage to yells of encouragement. Tambry gave the audience the finger, and they went wild with approval. Then Robbie, with his hoodie hiding everything but his face, came forward, glared, and grabbed the microphone off the stand. "You gonna listen or what?" he asked.

"What!" the audience yelled back.

Finally, he grinned. "Right on! Guys and girls!" he said into the mike, "There's gonna be, like, a forty-minute break for you to grab some eats, but first we're gonna play you some wind-down tunes! Something nice and mellow and, you know, sweet, to get your appetites workin'."

When the crowd booed, he grinned evilly. "Yeah, that was total BS! I'm Robbie V., these are the Tombstones, and we are gonna rock ya!"

He put the mike back on the stand, nodded at the band, and they ripped into an instrumental that Mabel didn't recognize at all—a new song for them, a fast-paced metal number with lots of percussion, Tambry working the keyboard like a maniac, and Robbie crouched over his lead guitar, producing unearthly and yet urgently stirring harmonics—and yet for some reason, to Mabel the melody that emerged from the chaos sounded a little familiar.

She recorded that one, and for good measure the next one ("In the Pits") and the final one ("Gloom, Meet Doom"), which were Tombstones standards. When the set ended, the crowd was cheering, Robbie grabbed Tambry and planted a kiss on her lips, and the band went off holding up their hands raised in hook-'em signs. The still-applauding crowd began to dissipate, Mabel climbed down from Teek's shoulders—"Hope I didn't hurt you," she said, and he muttered, "Made me a little stiff."

They went backstage. "I got the performance," she told Robbie. "I don't know where Dipper and Wendy went."

"Bummer," Robbie said. He sighed. "Well, maybe we can do it again for them tomorrow. I wanted the little dude to hear it and see what he thought." He frowned. "But they, like, totally left? I thought they were takin' a bathroom break or something, but that was a couple hours ago. They're not back yet?"

"Maybe Dip's chasing some monster or solving a mystery or something," Mabel said. "he gets distracted easily. Oh, look, a squirrel!"

Robbie sighed in his trademarked everyone's-against-me way. "OK, thanks for vidding, though."

"Huh? Oh, sure, no prob. C'mon, Teek."

The crowd was streaming out and down the long drive to the booths on what the attendees called the Chum Line, dozens of places selling everything from overpriced hot dogs and burgers to stir-fry, flatbread wraps, meat on a stick, and questionable churros. "Want to get something to eat?" Teek asked her.

"No, I want to find Dipper," Mabel told him.

"But you don't want to eat?" Teek asked. "That's a first."

"You can be replaced, you know."

He dropped his head. "I'm sorry."

She put her fingers under his chin, tilted his head up, and kissed him. "Don't be, I was kidding. I wanna find a quiet spot."

To do it, they went back into the performers' parking lot and sat on the running board of a maroon 1940 Lincoln touring car, the vehicle belonging to the Handlebar Bros., an unaccountably popular singing trio.

Mabel punched in Dipper's number. After four rings, it went to voice mail: "Hi, this is Dipper Pines. Leave a message!"

"Real creative, Bro," Mabel muttered, but when the phone beeped, she said, "Broseph! Where you at? Call me ASAP!"

"Not answering?" Teek asked. "Maybe he and Wendy want some privacy."

"He knows better than that! Nobody gets privacy when Mabel's curious!" She phoned Wendy. It rang twice, then someone picked up and immediately hung up again. Mabel held her phone away, staring at it furiously. "Whaaat? No, you didn't!"

She tried again, and this time she immediately got Wendy's voice mail: "'Sup? You nearly got Wendy. Tell me who to call back, 'kay?" Mabel didn't bother leaving a message.

"She turned her phone off! I don't believe it!" Mabel yelped.

"What's wrong?"

"They're in trouble!" Mabel said, jumping up. "Wendy would never cut off a call from me! Maybe somebody's kidnapped them and stolen her phone! Come on, Teek. We gotta find them!"

"Uh—don't you have the tracker app on your phone? I know you could locate Dipper—"

"I took it off! I needed the memory for tunes!"

"Uh—where do we start looking?

Mabel pointed to the sky. "We start at the Shack!"

"Mabel again," Wendy said, turning the phone off. "Man, I wish you'd wake up."

Beside her, Dipper lolled against the stone wall, still out of it. Wendy reached out and stroked his hair, then touched his bare chest.

—Dip? You in there? Dude, please wake up! I am so sorry! I had to do it, though, to keep you safe!

He didn't respond. She didn't even catch a flicker of dreams, as she sometimes did even when they weren't touching. Wendy gulped back tears.

"I am so sorry," she said out loud. "It's not your fault, it's them! We gotta do something, Dip. Don't worry, I'll think of something." She hugged him. "You're not too cold? I got you, Dipper. I'm holding you. It'll be OK. I'll protect you." She leaned her cheek against his head and hummed a broken tune, trying to reach him, or maybe to comfort him even if he just picked up on it subconsciously.

But at the same time, she was thinking, I'm going crazy! I'm losing it! What's the matter with me?

She remembered the weird space parasite that had, for a short time, made everything paranoid and fearful in Dipper come to the surface and dominate him. She wondered if she had one inside her—but how? The two Stans had seen the thing destroyed, and there weren't any more of them. Still—

"Dude," she said miserably, "I think there's something wrong in my head. What are we gonna do, Dipper? What are we gonna do?"

Then for a panicky moment, she thought, I might've killed him!

But no, his bare skin was warm against her arm and cheek, and he breathed regularly and normally. He would wake up eventually.

"I'll be here for you, Dip," Wendy promised, kissing his forehead, kissing his birthmark. "I won't ever leave you. I'm here for you, man. I'm here for you."

"Dipper?" Stan asked, frowning. He had come back to the Shack—"Just so much of that racket a man can take"—for a break from Woodstick and was relaxing in his old chair, watching the evening news on TV. "Nah, I ain't seen him at all today. What, is there some boogeyman on the prowl?"

"I don't know!" Mabel insisted. "He and Wendy left the concert and nobody saw where they went! Her car's not where she parked it this morning! They're not answering their phones!"

Stan shrugged. "Ya know what, Mabel? Sounds like young love to me! I mean, you and Dip, you're nearly fifteen, and I was fifteen when I lost my vir—um, my head over a girl, I mean. Don't get any ideas! That's the trouble with kids today, they get ideas! I never had an idea until I was out of high school!"

"Do you have the tracker app on your phone?" Teek asked him.

"Now you're just talkin' crazy talk," Stan said. "What's an app? 'S not even a word!"

"Wait a minute," Mabel said. "I think I have an idea."

"No!" Stan yelled. "What did I just say? Bad Mabel!"

"This has all the earmarks of a love spell," Mabel said. "Vanilla and Thompson said that Wendy was acting all weird and grumbly at the girls. And that was just after—oh, my gosh! Love God's gig! They said the two of them got up and left just after I went on stage to announce Sev'ral Timez!"

"Yeah, I gotta admit they were a big hit," Stan said. "So, they'll be worth their two and a half per cent."

"Three!" Mabel yipped.

Stan shrugged. "Meh, it was worth a shot."

"Come on," Mabel said. "Grunkle Stan, you have to take us back to Woodstick. I gotta talk to Love God!"

The first thing that Dipper felt was the hardness of the stone he sat on and leaned against. The second was Wendy's warm arm wrapped around him, and her cheek leaning on his head. The third was the rope that kept his hands tied behind him.

Um. What happened?

"Dipper!" Wendy kissed his cheek. "You're OK! Dude, I was so worried!"

"Where—where are we?"

"That cave, you know, the one where that monster took Mabel. I brought you here to keep you safe from them."

The Gack of Doom? Safe from who? What's happening? Aggh! Why am I naked?

"You're not, you're not," Wendy assured him. "I just needed to make sure you wouldn't try to run away before you understand what's going on. Your clothes are in my car, but I left your shorts on. The black boxer briefs. Mabel's idea?

"How'd I get here?"

"I carried you, dude. Fireman's lift. You're heavy!"

Dipper's head seemed to be spinning. "Wait, I'm woozy—hey, I'm tied up! what did you do?"

"Chloroform," she admitted. "Just a little, not as much as you'd use on a bear. Took it from my dad's truck before we left Woodstick, 'cause I knew you'd want to stay and fight it out, but we can't risk it!"

"Untie me!"

"Gotta wait until you feel totally recovered," she said, her voice high-pitched and unsteady, as though she were a little drunk. "I don't want you to hurt yourself!"

"Wendy—please, go slow! I don't understand!"

She sat beside him on a round boulder, her arms around him. They weren't far inside the cave—he could see the opening, like a long, downcurving mouth, and the sandy floor littered with fallen stone from the time when the alien craft had blasted off with the captured monster inside.

Wendy was nuzzling his cheek. "Dude, the girls! They were all eyeing you so hard! I know what they had on their minds. They want to take you away from me! And I can't let that happen. Listen, while you were sleepin', I've been thinking about the whole mess. I've got a lot saved up. We could run off and get married! I mean, there are states where kids fifteen can marry with their parents' consent, but we don't even have to worry about that. See, the kids at school talk about this guy who makes these great forged IDs, not just drivers' licenses, but birth certificates and passports, even. Costs a couple thousand, but I could get him to do you a set—"

"Uh—Wendy?"

Feverishly, she overrode him: "We can go like real far away—maybe Vermont, or Canada, even—and I can get us a place and find a job and keep you at home, and you won't ever have to go out, and they can't see you—"

"Wendy, we can't do that!"

Wendy was crying, not sobbing, but he could feel her tears falling hot on his bare shoulder. "There's something bad wrong with me," she said. "Something's busted in my head, man! Listen! We can't let anybody come between us! I love you too much! We—we could hold hands and jump into the Bottomless Pit! Like Romeo and Juliet, be together forever—"

"It doesn't work like that for people," Dipper told her. "I thought I explained it once—you fall for close to half an hour, always going down, but then you pop right back out the top again."

"We'd have half an hour alone!" Wendy said. She reached all the way around his back, and he squirmed as he felt her fingers tweaking his left nipple. "Mm. I could make you feel real good, Dipper. Make you forget those other girls!"

"We—we can't do that!" Dipper said, squirming.

"I can tell you like this, dude! Mm. I don't want to wait! I know, we should wait! You're too young for this! I'd never do this! I want to do this! God, Dipper, I'm comin' apart!"

"I'll help," Dipper said. "Untie me. Please."

"But—the other girls—"

"They don't mean anything to me!" Dipper said. "Untie me and I'll show you."

Wendy hesitated, but finally she had him turn around, and he felt her loosen the knots, then pull away the rope binding his wrists. He turned to face her. "Take my hands."

She held onto them, and he could feel her trembling.

"Look in my eyes."

She did, leaning her forehead against his.

—Oh, Dipper, help me, please!

For a few seconds, he couldn't even get his breath. He caught the despairing wave of emotion rolling from her, overwhelming, blinding. He felt the edge of her distrust, her anger at Tambry and Cindy and Pam and Vanilla cutting into her mind like a cruel knife.

There's no one but you, Magic Girl. Only you. I'm totally open. Look in and see it.

"Oh, Dipper!"

For a moment, everything leveled out. Then, fiercely, Wendy snarled, "They're makin' you do this! I'll kill them all!"

And in that terrifying instant, Dipper felt that she absolutely meant it.