those days are gone
For the fourth time in the last half hour, Mabel skips up the stairs and knocks on the bathroom door. "Dipper? Are you dead yet?"
His reply is strained. "I told you, I'm not done!"
She sighs long and loud, resting her head against the doorjamb. "Come on, it's supposed to rain later!"
"Give me a minute!"
"You've had all the minutes."
"Shouldn't have eaten that Brown Meat," he mutters. "What was I thinking?"
Mabel's eaten more than her fair share of things she shouldn't have. She knows his pain. "You gotta let it flow, bro. You'll run out eventually."
"Eventually," he sighs. Then, more stridently, "Don't tell Pacifica."
"Meh, she'll understand. Everyone gets the Hershey squirts."
"Oh, geez, do not tell her that!"
"It's cool. I'll tell her you can't get ice cream 'cause your butt's exploding," Mabel assures him.
"Mabel—!"
She leaves him hollering at the door and goes back downstairs. She pokes her head into the gift shop, where she sees the counter is manned by Soos.
"Soos, have you seen Grunkle Stan?" she asks.
"He's taking a tour through right now," Soos says. "Hey, serious question: Do you think I should get some rad tattoos? I feel like they would make me more mysterious."
"You should get a third eye right on your forehead—nobody would ever know what you were looking at!" she advises.
He paws around the countertop, extracting a sheaf of paper from somewhere under the register. "Dude, I gotta write this down."
Mabel manages to catch Grunkle Stan in a lull while a gaggle of gullible tourists snaps pictures of his latest attraction. He's leaning on his cane, his eyepatch propped open as he counts a fat stack of bills.
"Is that Dipper upstairs?" he says when he spots Mabel. "He keeps it up, he's paying this month's water bill."
"Me and Pacifica are going to walk to town to get ice cream," Mabel tells him.
Stan immediately tightens his grip on the money. "You know they'll keep givin' you free samples if you're loud enough."
"We got it covered. See you later!"
Stan waves her off and turns back to task of separating the tourists from their cash.
Mabel returns to the living room long enough to switch off the TV and then makes her way through the hall to Pacifica's room, assuming the other girl is still getting ready. But when she knocks on Pacifica's door, it swings open to reveal the lights are off. Mabel doubles back to the kitchen; no sign of Pacifica there, either. Where could she be?
Mabel runs out to check the couch on the porch. When this fails to produce Pacifica, she whips out her phone and texts the blonde girl.
Mabel: Where u at?
Pacifica: Basement
"Huh," Mabel says, surprised. Since when does Pacifica go down there by herself?
The vending machine is in place over the doorway, since there are tourists about. Ford's lab is no longer a secret, exactly, but he's also not accepting random visitors. Mabel makes sure all the guests are in the museum before punching in the code and shutting the machine behind her. The elevator takes her down into the musty depths; the doors slide open to reveal the entryway has been rearranged yet again, with several new tables taking the place of the old consoles. One of the tables has a new-looking laptop surrounded by piles of yellowed papers.
Mabel follows the sound of voices, turning the corner into the large space formerly used for the portal. Pacifica is seated on a stool while Grunkle Ford stands nearby with his journal in hand, taking notes; between them is the green stone heart made of little vibrating cubes that was taken from the center of the magic maze. It's held in a cradle of wires, suspended over a small table.
"It's always wiggling, which is gross, and it's kind of hard to hold on to… It's like a Cubic's Cube, but it's alive and the pieces pop out instead of just turning," Pacifica is saying. "Dipper thinks it made the maze."
"I believe he's correct," Ford says as he jots something down. "I've only begun to study it, but it's definitely a device, not anything organic. Someone designed and built this heart."
Pacifica wrinkles her nose. "Why?"
"I haven't a clue!" Ford says happily. "It doesn't correspond to any technology I've seen before. You say it created the maze when you accidentally sat on it?"
"I sat on a rock," Pacifica retorts a bit snappishly, her hackles rising at even a hint of blame—though Mabel is positive Grunkle Ford didn't mean it that way.
"It may have been beneath the rock, or perhaps within," Ford muses. "Impossible to say how long it was sitting there without locating the exact spot."
"When we got out it looked like the maze moved the whole forest around," Pacifica says.
"I wouldn't be surprised. It's a powerful artifact." Ford glances up from his journal long enough to notice Mabel. "Mabel! Excellent, I've been meaning to speak with you."
As much as Mabel is always willing to chat it up with Grunkle Ford, she already has plans. That ice cream isn't going to eat itself! "Can we talk later? We're on an important ice cream mission."
"That is important," Ford agrees. "I have a proposition: Bring something with chocolate chips back for me, and we can talk tomorrow. Deal?"
"Deal!" Mabel says.
The girls go to the elevator. When they emerge in the gift shop, Mabel heads straight for the door. Pacifica, however, hesitates.
"Wait, where's Dipper?" she asks.
Despite her teasing, Mabel isn't actually going to throw Dipper under the bus. Pacifica grosses out easily and Mabel doesn't want to mess things up in the romance department; that's the last thing she wants!
"Dipper isn't feeling good," Mabel says diplomatically.
"He's sick?" Pacifica says.
"His stomach's all whirly," Mabel tells her, delivering a half-truth which will hopefully keep Pacifica from checking on him. "He's fine, I already talked to him. Come on, let's go!"
Pacifica follows her, sparing Dipper any further humiliation.
The sun blinks in and out from behind intermittent bands of clouds as the girls walk down the lumpy furrows of Gopher Road. It's warm out but not hot, and a steady breeze makes things even more pleasant. To the west, the horizon lies beneath a heavy ceiling of angry dark grey, storm clouds gathering and rolling towards the cliffs; the air beneath them has the bluish haze of distant rain. The storm is still too far out for thunder to be heard in the valley, but it won't be silent for much longer. Mabel knows the stormfront is supposed to reach Gravity Falls by late afternoon and rumble on through the night. Unfortunate for anyone wanting to be outside on a fine summer's day, but a relief for a town parched in the mini drought that has followed the Windigo's departure. Greg was a pain in the butt, but he'd been great for the flowers.
It's nice to walk over to the town every now and then. Mabel enjoys her time in the woods, but while Dipper seems content to split his time between the lab and adventuring, Mabel likes a little civilization now and then. Or, at least the closest thing on offer in the valley. Despite Pacifica's proclivities, it's not surprising she hasn't spent much time in town; she's been consistently reluctant to do so without the company of the twins. Mabel is still hoping Pacifica will get over it before long. After all, the rejection the Northwest heiress always seems to expect has yet to come. Besides, she's got nothing to prove. She's a straight up adventure expert now! (Mystery Trio 4lyfe!)
As usual, the streets are a little rundown and the infrequent traffic gives them an empty feel. But they are clean, and the grass is neatly trimmed, and most of the windows have a nice sheen to them. Mayor Tyler has been good for Gravity Falls. Mabel doesn't necessarily agree with his 'Never Mind All That' initiative, but she appreciates the beautification projects he's started. She's heard that McGucket is a major donor.
The sky is getting a bit darker when Mabel and Pacifica reach the shop, though Mabel judges they've still got enough time before the rain arrives. They push through the wooden door to the tinny sound of the customer bell—Pacifica's eye twitches slightly, and Mabel wisely declines to comment. The inside of the shop has that wonderful cold smell of refrigeration and frozen sugar; there's nothing quite like the scent of an ice cream place. Mabel gets a double-stacked triple chocolate waffle cone while Pacifica buys a demurer scoop of frozen yogurt.
They sit outside on the rubber-coated lattice of a bench as the first muted crackle of far off thunder rebounds around the cliffs. Mabel waves to Melody when she spots the woman on the other side of the street carrying some shopping bags.
"Hi, Mabel! It's a great day for ice cream!" Melody calls out with one bag lifted slightly in recognition.
"It's ALWAYS a great day for ice cream!" Mabel yells back.
Mabel smiles as she watches Melody enter the barber shop. This is one of the best parts of small-town living—there's always friends around! She takes a big, satisfied bite of her ice cream.
"We should bring something back for Dipper," Pacifica suggests.
Dipper is probably still fervently swearing off food forever. Mabel agrees anyway, because it never hurts to have some extra ice cream around the house (especially if Dipper is unlikely to eat it).
Though speaking of Dipper…
Mabel gives Pacifica an assessing side eye. Is it the right time to talk about serious stuff? Pacifica has been even touchier about that kind of junk than usual, which makes sense when Mabel recalls what the other girl said in the maze. If that's what is on her mind, then no wonder she's been all prickly. But Mabel knows that Dipper and Pacifica were together in the crazy-hex-things room for at least a while, so they might have talked about it. Unless Dipper was a big scaredy-cat. Which is possible, though he has been better about that kind of thing.
Well, time to be sneaky about it. Time for spy-style Mabel.
"What a great day for ice cream this is! Melody is so right," Mabel says, gesturing casually with her cone. "Great day for ice cream, great day for talking… Just talking and talking, about everything, or maybe about all the stress we bury way way down to stop ourselves from screaming…"
Pacifica crosses her legs with perfect poise, affected disinterest writ across her features. "You are so the worst at this," she drawls, a delicate nibble of her frozen yogurt serving as dry punctation. "Just ask me already."
Yeah, well, it still worked, didn't it? Spy-style Mabel wins again!
"Did you guys talk about—"
"Yes," Pacifica interjects. "Are you happy now?"
"Only if you are," Mabel says.
Pacifica's expression becomes more genuine. Her lips thin and she looks away. "It's just going to happen, Mabel. Even if I make myself feel better, it's still the same." She sighs. "…But we can still talk about it. Just not here, okay?"
"What? You don't want to have a good cry on the sidewalk?!" Mabel teases. "Heh, alright, I get you. We'll trade some super serious mouth-sounds laters."
"You are so weird."
"You love it!"
Mabel's attention goes back to her ice cream. She's just getting down to the best part, where bites are equally cream and cone. The wind has picked up a little and tugs at her hair, blowing a few scattered leaves to the opposite curb. Two other girls emerge from around a nearby building, heading for the ice cream place. They're just talking to each other and Mabel disregards them, focused on her rapidly melting treat. But then she notices that Pacifica has gone stiff, her yogurt held immobile at her waist.
Mabel is about to ask what's wrong when she sees that the two girls have stopped in their tracks. Now that she's looking, Mabel immediately recognizes them, though she can't put names to the faces.
It's Pacifica's two former… whatever they were. Mabel isn't sure if 'friends' is the right word. Minions?
Pacifica seems stunned, her expression blank but her eyes a bit too wide. The girls are looking back at her warily.
Pacifica slowly stands. "Tiffany, Elizabeth," she says haltingly. "What are you doing here?"
"What are we doing here? What are you doing here?" the one on the right says, her voice tight with anger.
"Tiffany," the other one says quietly, so that must be Elizabeth, "come on, let's just go."
"No!" Tiffany snaps. "We have just as much right to be here as she does."
"That's not what I meant," Pacifica says. "I didn't see you at Pioneer Day, I thought maybe you moved after… you know."
Tiffany crosses her arms. "We saw you. Guess we didn't feel like getting bossed around this year."
Pacifica flinches. "Look, I know I didn't… I know I was a jerk sometimes, and I'm… I'm sorry. But things are different now."
"Yeah, now you're broke so we don't have to put up with you." Tiffany shakes her head. "You didn't even tell us you were moving. Not even a text! What, did we stop being useful? Whatever. You got a replacement now," she says, looking at Mabel.
"Leave her out of this!" Pacifica says with abrupt anger.
Tiffany isn't impressed. "Wow, I guess you actually like this one. Must be nice." She turns to Elizabeth. "You were right, let's get out of here."
As Tiffany starts to walk away, Pacifica meets Elizabeth's eyes. "Wait, I really am trying! We don't have to fight. We can still be friends."
Elizabeth gives Pacifica a look of incredulity; but there's a sadness in her eyes. "We were never friends," she says, and follows Tiffany down the sidewalk.
Pacifica's shoulders slump. She just watches as the two girls walk away, neither of them looking back.
A dozen possible remarks flit through Mabel's mind: awkward jokes and words designed to brush it all off, keep them moving; none feel right.
Pacifica lets out a quiet breath and her posture straightens. "I told Dipper they weren't really my friends," she says with a wobbly attempt at a scoff. "Guess I didn't believe it."
Ouch. Mabel grimaces and takes an uncertain half-step forward; she's not sure Pacifica is going to be open to a hug right now.
Pacifica takes a deep breath and tosses the rest of her yogurt into the nearby trashcan. "You know what? Things are different. I have real friends, so who needs them?"
"Yeah!" Mabel says, perhaps a bit too loudly. "They can go sit in syrup!"
Pacifica looks over the nearby rooftops to where the storm is now imminent, gliding over the cliffs and stamping its shadow on the forest. A hard wind scours the street as thunder builds in volume, roaring as it arrives.
"Let's just go," Pacifica says. "I want to go home." She surreptitiously wipes at her eyes, then says, "Great, something else to talk about."
Mabel makes a dismissive motion with one hand. "Yeah, but not right now. Let's get dibs on the TV. Duck-tective is on tonight!"
"Okay, so I don't understand: His twin brother is also a time traveler?"
Mabel hurries back into the ice cream shop to get something for Grunkle Ford and Dipper. As she and Pacifica walk back to the Shack, she sketches out the increasingly labyrinthine plot of Duck-tective as the storm closes in and plunges the day into a sudden false evening. They reach the end of Gopher Road just as the first drops of rain begin to clatter through the tree branches; the girls make a run for it and reach the safety of the awning before they get soaked.
They find Dipper already sprawled in Grunkle Stan's armchair; he's drinking water instead of snacking, so he must be better but not cured. He grimaces when Mabel offers him the ice cream.
"Not right now," he says, still a bit pale.
Mabel stashes Dipper's cone in the fridge and delivers the other ice cream to Grunkle Ford. When she returns to the living room, Pacifica is sitting in Dipper's lap, her legs draped over one arm of the chair and her head pillowed on his shoulder. They're talking quietly, and Mabel moves as silently as she can to her place at the foot of the chair, not wanting to interrupt. The episode of Duck-tective is just a rerun, so Mabel doesn't turn up the volume even though the muted clamor of the rain through the Shack's wooden halls makes it hard to hear.
"But it's just them," Dipper is saying. "No one else acted like that."
"They're right. I was a total jerk to them," Pacifica mutters.
"You said you were sorry. I mean, what else can you do?"
"I don't know!" Pacifica says with frustration. "I can't take anything back and it sucks."
Dipper doesn't try to argue with that. "It really does."
Pacifica sighs roughly. "Whatever. Hey, where were you earlier? You look fine."
"Uh, well, I was, um… What did Mabel say?"
"She said you were sick or something. You don't look sick."
"Oh. Well, I got better. Probably, you know, allergies or something. Don't worry about it."
Once again, Mabel takes pity on him. "Shhhh, guys, this is the good part!" she says, scooting forward to up the volume.
"We already saw this one," Dipper retorts.
Pacifica, however, is confused. "We did? I don't remember this. The duck with the goatee is the time traveler, right? What about the duck with the mustache?"
The room quickly fills with a mildly heated debate over the specifics of duck-lore between Mabel and Dipper—Pacifica bemusedly looks on.
That night, Mabel sits on the edge of her bed and watches as rain slides down the triangular glass of the window. It reminds her of the Windigo, which in turn reminds her of how well Pacifica did on that adventure. Her friend has come so far, and it seems so unfair how much pressure remains to push her down. Things should be easier now that they're all back in Gravity Falls. But it feels like the outside world isn't as far away as it used to be.
Maybe that's growing up.
Those Days Are Gone by Free Throw (Count Your Lucky Stars, 2014)