Chapter Text
Ford picked up the phone.
“This is Stanford Pines.”
“Hi, Stanford!” said a voice he vaguely recognized but couldn’t quite place. “This is Angie McGucket!”
“Oh, um…” Ford frowned thoughtfully. “Fiddleford’s younger sister, right?”
“Got it in one!” Angie said cheerfully. Ford recalled meeting his college roommate’s younger sister a few times. Fiddleford was exceedingly proud of her and Ford found her to be a charming, intelligent young woman, though not without the quirks common to her family. “So, uh, yer prob’ly wonderin’ why the younger sister of yer college roommate is callin’ ya.”
“The question did cross my mind, yes.”
“Well…” Angie cleared her throat. “I don’t know if ya ‘member this, but I’m a herpetologist.”
“Herpetology is the study of amphibians and reptiles, correct?”
“Got it in one again. I try to keep in the loop of amphibious news, since amphibians are my specific specialty. I’ve heard a bit ‘bout some folks spottin’ a weird little critter what looks like an abnormally large axolotl in Gravity Falls, Oregon. Fidds told me that yer based in Gravity Falls, and also that yer interested in strange, cryptic critters.”
“Are you referring to cryptids?”
“…Yes, but I don’t want to use that word,” Angie mumbled. Ford smiled.
“It is quite all right. I know many biologists are doubtful of the existence of cryptids. So, were you asking my professional opinion? Whether I’ve seen it?”
“I wouldn’t mind the answers to those questions, but no, I was actually wonderin’ if I could visit ya fer a bit. Just so’s I’ve got time to look into it m’self, y’know?”
“Ah, I see…”
“If yer not comfortable with that, it’s totally fine!” Angie said quickly. “I wouldn’t want to impose! Fidds was actually the one to suggest I reach out to ya.”
“I assumed he had some hand in this, particularly given that I don’t recall sharing my phone number with you.”
“Yep, Fidds gave me yer number.”
“Honestly, Angie, I- I wouldn’t mind the company.” Ford wasn’t just trying to avoid offending her. He had only rare interactions with the townsfolk, particularly as of late.
I can’t remember the last time I spoke to someone in person. I spoke with Mom on the phone last week, I think? He absent-mindedly scratched his perpetually itchy red skin. I haven’t felt comfortable seeing someone since…
“It’s a yes, then?” Angie asked timidly. Ford forced a smile, hoping it would show in his voice.
“Yes. Most certainly. I would be more than happy to house you whilst you look into this amphibious cryptid.”
“Oh, wow, thank you, Stanford!” Angie gushed. “I promise I won’t be a laze about freeloader. I’ll help with chores. I can even cook ya some good homestyle meals.”
“That sounds excellent.” It did. Ford fondly remembered visiting Fiddleford’s family and the incredible spread they laid out for each meal. Just thinking of some of the casseroles he’d been served was making his mouth water. “Let me know when you have an idea of when you plan to visit. I will get things ready.”
“Thank you, thank you! Yes, I’ll call ya back once I know! Thank you!” Ford couldn’t help but chuckle at Angie’s enthusiasm.
“It’s no problem. I look forward to your visit.”
“So do I! All right, I’ve got- I’ve got to make some plans ‘n arrangements. I’ll be in touch!”
“Goodbye.”
“Bye!” Angie chirped. She hung up. Ford hung up the receiver. Part of him was already regretting that he agreed to the visit. He knew it wasn’t wise to have a guest over while he was still coming to terms with his condition. But his isolation was beginning to take its toll on him. He craved human interaction on a level he never had before.
She’s likely to be an ideal guest anyways. From what I remember, she’s very polite and proper, so she won’t snoop. There’s no chance she’d notice anything amiss about me. Reassured, Ford took a look at his surroundings. He grimaced. I’ll need to start cleaning now if I want this place to be livable by the time she gets here.
Angie arrived on a rare day free of clouds. She stood on the front doorstep, beaming, the sun shining behind her. Ford couldn’t help but smile as well. Banjolina, or Angie (as she preferred to be called) McGucket had the same cheekbones, large nose, slender frame, and bright blue eyes as her older brother Fiddleford. However, while Fiddleford was tall, Angie was much shorter than average, standing at barely five feet. Her hair, cut in a short bob, was also caramel-colored, in contrast to Fiddleford’s sandy blond locks. She wore a yellow shirt underneath denim overalls, clearly ready to explore the woods as soon as she had dropped off her things.
“It is very nice to see you again,” Ford said.
“It’s a right delight to see you, too!” Angie chirped. She bounced on the balls of her feet. “Mind if I come in?”
“Of course.” Ford stood to the side, allowing Angie to come in. She walked into the house. As she examined the living room, she smiled.
“I get the feelin’ ya might have cleaned fer me.” She looked over her shoulder at Ford. “Fidds told me yer half of the room in college was always a heckuva mess.” Ford closed the door.
“I may have yet to host any visitors in my home, but my mother raised me right. I know to clean before guests arrive,” he replied. Angie chuckled. “Would you like me to show you to your room? Once you’ve settled in, we can discuss the reason for your visit.”
“That would be lovely,” Angie chirped.
“Follow me, then.” Ford headed up to the attic, where he had set up the air mattress his mom insisted he have for visitors. “Make yourself at home. I will be in the living room.” Angie gave him a thumbs up. Ford went back downstairs to wait for her. He sat at the card table in the corner of the living room. It was still scattered with various books, despite his attempts to tidy.
This feels weird already. But I need to keep an open mind. After all, Angie is here to look into a cryptid of some sort. I should encourage other scientists to look into the paranormal and supernatural as a valid field of study. Also, Fiddleford would be most disappointed if I behaved coldly towards or turned away his sister. Lost in his thoughts, Ford didn’t realize Angie had returned until she gently poked him. He startled. Angie grinned at him and sat in the other chair at the table.
“Sorry fer spookin’ ya like that. I recognized that look on yer face, though. It’s the same one Fidds gets when he’s caught up in makin’ robots ‘n whatnot.” Ford silently noted with amusement that Angie pronounced the word “robot” the same way Fiddleford did: row-bit. “When Fidds gets like that, ain’t nothin’ that can distract him ‘cept physical contact.”
“It is quite all right,” Ford said. He managed a small but probably awkward smile. “Now, would you mind sharing with me details about the specific creature that brought you here? I might be able to help you in your search. Perhaps I could even join you.”
“Oh, I would greatly appreciate if ya came with me on the hikes!” Angie said. “I don’t know m’ way ‘round here. And I can get lost easy even back home! I’d be liable to get lost fer months if I went wanderin’ in the woods here.” Ford’s smile became more genuine at her fervent tone.
“Then I am more than happy to show you around.” He cleared his throat. “So, the creature you’re looking for?”
“Right! So’s, like I said on the phone, there have been some reports of sightings of a creature what resembles an axolotl, Ambystoma mexicanum. But this critter ain’t the size axolotls usually are. It’s ‘bout the size of a dog, apparently. Not a big one, but not a small one, neither.”
“That is not a very specific measurement.”
“All the sightings have taken place at night.”
“All of them?”
“Yessir. And strangely, all have been ‘round the time of the full moon,” Angie said slowly. Ford raised an eyebrow.
“The full moon, you say.”
“Yep.”
“I hope you don’t immediately dismiss this suggestion, but could your creature perhaps be akin to a werewolf?” Ford asked. Angie leaned back, a thoughtful expression on her face.
“I won’t completely close my mind to that possibility,” she said after a moment. “I know there are magical things in this world. After all, Pa raised us all to believe in the Fair Folk.”
“The Fair Folk?”
“The Good Folk. The Wee Folk. Fae. Fairies. The McGuckets have called ‘em the Fair Folk fer centuries, long ‘fore my ancestors came here from Ireland. They passed down tales of their own encounters with the Fair Folk.”
“Really?!” Ford asked eagerly. His fingers were itching to grab his journal and a pen.
I would love to hear these familial tales of interactions with magical beings. They would be of more interest than the typical folktales that can be found in books. Angie nodded.
“Oh, yeah. In Ireland, the Fair Folk interact with humans reg’lar, so’s that sort of story ain’t unheard of.” Angie cocked her head with a small smile. “Though they sometimes interact with humans here, too. I’ve seen ‘em.”
“You have?”
“Yep. Saw the Dullahan on Samhain when I was a girl. Came home from trick or treatin’ a bit late and barely got ‘cross the salt circle ‘round the house in time to avoid it seein’ me.” Angie shuddered. “Ya don’t want to encounter the Fair Folk without bein’ in complete control of the sit’ation in general. But an Unseelie death portent? That’s a recipe fer trouble.”
“The…Dullahan?”
“Sorry, you’ll prob’ly know ‘im as the Headless Horseman. Pa told us the Irish terms fer dif’rent Fair Folk, so’s I instinctively use ‘em over the English ones.”
“I would love to hear the full story sometime.”
“Sure!” Angie shook her head. “Sorry fer goin’ off on a tangent there. All that were just to let ya know I ain’t opposed to the critter bein’ magically influenced in some way. Though I won’t go into this assumin’ that’s the case. Ya have to have an open mind both ways, y’know?”
“I personally disagree, but I respect your opinion.”
“Good. Respect is important,” Angie said with a nod.
“So, the creature is showing up during the full moon?”
“The three or so days the moon is full, yes.”
“It’s seen three nights in a row during the full moon?” Ford asked. Angie nodded. “That does seem to point to a were-creature of some sort.”
“Well if it is, it ain’t any were-creature from folklore I know of. I can’t think of any were-axolotls.”
“Can you share anything else about it?”
“From what folks say, it seems to be seen near bodies of water. Which makes sense, given that amphibians such as axolotls need to keep their skin damp.” Ford felt a sudden sense of dread building in his gut.
No. It couldn’t be.
“Folks also say the critter seems rather disoriented, like it don’t know where it is or can’t see its surroundin’s well. It also seems to struggle with movement to some extent, which makes me worry it’s hurt in some way. Physical injury or perhaps a neurological issue.” Angie shrugged. “Of course, these are all observations from folks at night, some of ‘em slightly to significantly inebriated. So who knows how accurate any of it is.”
“I see,” Ford murmured.
Maybe it’s a mere coincidence? One can only hope. Ford clasped his hands and placed them on the table. His smile was once again forced.
“If you’d like, we can go for an exploratory hike in the woods now.”
“That would be great! I-” Angie’s eyes landed on Ford’s hands. Her brow furrowed. His blood running cold, Ford quickly moved to hide his hands, but Angie grabbed them before he could. “What on Earth is goin’ on here?”
“I’m sure Fiddleford informed you I am a poly-” Ford mumbled.
“No, I ain’t talkin’ ‘bout that! How many fingers ya got ain’t my business,” Angie scoffed. She gestured to the reddened, irritated skin on Ford’s hands. “This is what I’m talkin’ ‘bout! How’d yer hands get in this state? My hands didn’t look half that bad when I was in microbiology labs, wearin’ gloves ‘n washin’ m’ hands a million times.”
“Ah, my, uh, my skin has just been rather sensitive as of late.”
“Maybe ya need to change up what lotion ‘n body wash ya use.”
“I don’t use lotion.”
“There’s part of yer problem, then.” Angie gently released her hold on Ford’s hands. “I can help ya out with findin’ what products work fer ya, if you’d like.”
“Thank you, but I’m managing just fine on my own,” Ford said. Angie gave Ford an incredulous look he recognized. It was the same one Fiddleford gave him when he pulled a particularly risky all-nighter in college. “You don’t believe me.” It wasn’t a question, but Angie answered like it was.
“No, I don’t.” Angie sighed. “But at the end of the day, yer an adult. If ya want to ruin yer skin, so be it.” She got up from her chair. “Let’s get goin’. The woods wait fer no one.”
Ford sunk down lower in the filled bathtub. Angie was now washing her hands. Hopefully, she would be leaving the bathroom without noticing him. It was the first full moon since Angie had come to visit, so Ford had locked the bathroom door before the moon rose. But to his surprise, Angie had broken down the door in the middle of the night to use the bathroom.
I didn’t know she was that strong. Maybe the door needed repairs? The hinges have been rather wobbly as of late. Angie dried her hands on the towel. She looked over at the tub.
“G’night, weird little critter,” she said. Her voice was thick with sleep. She turned around and left the bathroom, stumbling slightly and bumping into the doorjamb. Ford let out a sigh of relief.
Even if she remembers seeing me in the morning, she was clearly half-asleep. She’ll probably assume it was a dream. Suddenly, Angie rushed back into the bathroom, now much more awake. She gaped at Ford.
“It- yer the weird little critter I’ve been lookin’ for!” she gasped. Ford winced. Angie frowned. “But why are ya in the tub?” She shook her head. “Oh, listen to me, talkin’ like you’ll talk right back.”
She thinks I’m a regular animal. Oh, dear. Ford knew from experience how eager Angie was to pick up amphibians she found. I don’t wish to be manhandled and cooed over. He sighed softly.
“I can talk,” he said. He blinked in surprise. He had never spoken in this form before, so he wasn’t aware of how high-pitched his voice was. Angie’s jaw dropped.
“You can talk?!” she shrieked in delight. She got closer to the tub, looking at Ford intently. As she approached, Ford could finally make out the pattern on the oversized T-shirt that, along with her athletic shorts, formed her pajamas. The shirt she wore tonight was apparently from her alma mater, West Coast Tech. “Stanford’s told me there’s some weird critters ‘round here what can talk, but I ain’t seen ‘em yet.” She got on her knees and reached out a hand cautiously. Ford recoiled. Angie pulled her hand back. “Say, what kind of critter are ya, exactly?”
“I’m…not sure.”
“Oh, does yer species not have a name fer yourselves?” Angie asked eagerly. Her eyes roamed across Ford, taking in the features that, thanks to Ford’s poor vision, were blurry to him. “I’ll be. You got twelve lil fingers!” Ford remained silent. “That’s right fascinatin’, that is. I mean, sure, the earliest amphibians like Acanthostega and Ichthyostega were polydactyls by today’s standards. But havin’ more ‘n five digits on each extremity went away once us tetrapods adapted to land more properly.”
“Really?” Ford asked, curious despite himself. Angie beamed.
“Yep!”
“Why did I not know that?”
“I reckon ‘cause yer a critter, not a college graduate.” Angie perked up. “Oh! Speakin’ of college graduates, I better go find Stanford! He’ll be thrilled that I managed to find ya!” Before Ford could say anything, she jumped up and raced out of the bathroom. Ford looked at the door, wondering if he might be able to make a break for it before she got back.
But I can’t move very fast like this. And I need a body of water to keep my skin moist in this form. Other than the bathtub, there isn’t anything nearby. I really should see about Dan Corduroy installing a pond in the backyard. After a few minutes, Angie returned.
“Couldn’t find him,” she said with a shrug. “Maybe he sleepwalks? I used to do that. My folks would find me in weird locations in the mornin’.” She glanced over at the door, which was leaning against the wall after she broke it down. “Huh? Why is- oh. Right.” Angie grimaced. “I took down the door since it was locked fer some reason.” She paused. A few long moments passed. Angie looked at Ford. “Now, how on Earth could a tiny lil thing like you lock the bathroom door behind ya?” Ford remained silent. Angie walked up to the tub and kneeled in front of Ford. “Don’t make fun of me if I’m wrong, okay?” She sat back on her heels. “…Stanford?” It was Ford’s turn to gape.
“How did you know?” he squeaked in his annoyingly adorable voice.
“A lot of lil things buildin’ up more ‘n one big thing, really. Small things I could dismiss on their own, but when taken together, paint a picture.” Angie began to count things off on her fingers. “Yer polydactyly even in this form, yer engagement on a rather niche topic of biology, the fact you yourself brought up the possibility the strange critter I was lookin’ fer was akin to a werewolf, yer human shape currently missin’, and the whole locked door thing. You went in the bathroom and locked the door ‘fore I went to bed. When I woke up, the door was still locked, and yet human Stanford weren’t in here. A strange amphibious critter were.”
“You have excellent deductive reasoning,” Ford mumbled.
“It’s difficult to get a PhD without that.”
“Fair enough.”
“So, yer the critter I’ve been lookin’ fer,” Angie said. Ford nodded. Angie adjusted herself so she was sitting cross-legged, rather than on her heels. “Why didn’t ya tell me that?”
“To be quite frank, I was unaware of it until after you told me the details of what townsfolk had seen,” Ford confessed. Angie cocked her head curiously. “I can’t wear my glasses in this shape, but my eyesight is no better than when I am a human. Arguably, it is worse.”
“That makes sense. Ya look a lot like an axolotl, and axolotls tend to have poor eyesight. Their native habitat is the bottom of a lake, after all.”
“Ah. I was unaware of this.” Ford cleared his throat. “To continue answering your question, by the time I realized the creature you were looking for was me, I felt rather…embarrassed.”
“Embarrassed? Stanford, this is the coolest thing I’ve ever seen!”
“You’re very kind.”
“I’m also no liar, so don’t think I’m just tryin’ to spare yer feelin’s or some such nonsense.” Angie furrowed her brow. “Now, how did ya end up like this?”
“Honestly, I’m not sure,” Ford said.
“To be a were-critter, that would suggest ya got bitten by a were-axolotl. But amphibians can’t really break the skin with a bite,” Angie murmured. She looked closely at Ford. “And on a basic inspection, ya don’t seem to have the kind of teeth that would draw blood. Maybe ya got bitten by a were-axolotl when it weren’t in axolotl form?”
“Perhaps.”
“Were ya bitten or scratched by a wild animal shortly ‘fore ya first transformed?”
“Oh, yes. Multiple times,” Ford said. “I am frequently bitten and scratched during my research.”
“Oh, Lord,” Angie groaned. She sighed heavily. “Please tell me you’ve gotten a rabies vaccine. No judgement on needin’ one. Many of my relatives have needed the rabies shot.”
“Of course I’ve been vaccinated against rabies,” Ford scoffed. Angie nodded, visibly relieved. “Did you think I wouldn’t be?”
“Fidds mentioned ya can be a bit absent-minded.”
“Funny, because he’s told me the same thing about you.”
“Great minds, then,” Angie said smoothly. Ford couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped him. Angie smiled. “It’s fer the best that I broke down the door ‘n caught ya in this state, I think. After all, who better to help ya figure out how yer amphibious form works but someone who specializes in ‘em?”
“I don’t need-” Ford started instinctively. He paused.
Angie’s not offering her assistance out of pity. She’s offering it out of scientific curiosity. And honestly, what kind of scientist would I be to turn down expert help?
“That sounds like a good plan,” Ford said after a moment. Angie’s smile broadened. “Tomorrow morning, we can discuss my own observations over breakfast.”
“Lovely. And I’ll start thinkin’ ‘bout what ya should be switchin’ yer personal care products to. It might be dif’cult to find some of ‘em in this tiny town, but I’m sure we could find ‘em in Eugene.”
“What are you referring to?” Ford asked.
“I noticed the state yer skin is in the day I arrived. Now I know why it looks so poor. Since becomin’ part amphibian, yer skin must have become more sensitive to fragrances ‘n harsh chemicals! Luckily, it should resolve pretty quick once ya get some good soaps.”
“There’s no need to change the kind of soap I use,” Ford said quickly. Angie rolled her eyes and stood up.
“I apologize, Stanford, but I won’t take no fer an answer. I refuse to let ya ruin yer skin out of stubbornness when there’s an easy solution.” She headed for the now doorless doorway, pausing before she fully stepped out of the bathroom. “I’ll fix the door in the mornin’. Prob’ly best if we both get some sleep. Tomorrow ‘ll be a full day.”
“Yes.” Ford cleared his throat. “…Thank you.”
“Yer quite welcome,” Angie said cheerfully. “Sleep well, Stanford.”
“You as well,” Ford replied. Angie walked away. Ford curled up in the filled bathtub and closed his eyes, a sense of relief washing over him.
Finally…I might be able to find some answers.
