Chapter Text
The glass of the car window was cool as Mabel pressed her cheek against it, watching the unfamiliar trees blur into a watercolour of greens, blues and grays, with an occasional flicker of red as the mysterious man in the front seat probably broke the speed laws. Although, she didn't know the traffic laws for Oregon. The teenager humored the idea of asking her twin brother sitting beside her. He’d done an unhealthy amount of research to try and prepare for the new state, spending insomniac nights staring at a laptop screen. It’s not like Mabel could judge, having spent most of those nights awake with him, mindlessly knitting away at a sweater as he relayed fun facts to her. Those nights had felt more like home than any of the last year of family dinners.
The car was slowing down, now. Dipper, her brother, tapped her on the shoulder. As Mabel looked over to him and met his eyes, he pointed at the large building coming into view. “That's it,” he whispered. On the roof a large sign read Mystery Shack and their great-uncle pulled up to the half home, half tourist trap run by the man. Stanford parked by a pickup with a dozen bumper stickers reading What is the Mystery Shack? and MYSRYSHCK on it. The red convertible's engine sputtering down to tiny groans of metal.
"Here it is, kids," Stanford said, his voice rough and gravelly. "The place you'll be staying." It looked alright, if you ignored all the signs and marketing propaganda. The house itself was a two story A-frame made almost completely out of wood, with a smaller bump-out with a sign reading GIFTS above the door. The old man took the keys out of the ignition and opened the door. "Hop out and get your luggage," he ordered, looking back at the kids in his backseat before opening his door. He climbed out with a small grunt, and then slammed the door shut.
The twins turned to each other, their eyes meeting again. With a small inclination of his head, and the raising of his eyebrows, Dipper watched Mabel squirm just a bit before unclicking her seatbelt, letting it automatically retract but still leaving a few inches slack. Just how Dad hated it, Dipper thought, and his sister slid out her door.
Counting to five beneath his breath, Dipper followed suit and unbuckled. However, he took it upon himself to manually shove the slack inches of both back seats back into the mechanism. After all, why let anything cause trouble?
Stanford handed Mabel her suitcase, plastered with colourful yet worn decals. Dipper received his right after, it also being plastered with stickers at Mabel’s insistence. Most of his were souvenirs from national parks and museums. Their great-uncle then shut the trunk, leaving only a plain black duffel bag inside.
"Well, here's where you'll be working for the summer." Stanford said, spreading open his arms and grinning at them. "The one and only Mystery Shack!" There were signs everywhere - not only the rooftops, but also nailed into the surrounding pines and staked into the yellowish grass promoting things like ADVENTURE! and EXCITEMENT! along with BEFUDDLEMENT!
"I like your bunting," Mabel offered. It was strung between poles and the house, fluttering in the gentle breeze. Dipper let his eyes wander up the totem pole, but then something struck him. "Wait, did you say working?" He questioned, staring at the old man.
Stanford frowned. "What, did you think your parents were paying me or something? It'll only be a few part-time hours," he said. Meeting her brother's eyes, Mabel shook her head ever so slightly. Their parents hadn't mentioned that part, conveniently leaving it out. After a moment, Mabel turned to their great-uncle. "That's okay!" She said, smiling. "We just... We weren't told about this bit, by... y'know."
Something crossed the man's face before the smile returned, seeming much more natural this time. "That's fine. I'll give you two the day to adjust anyways." "Thanks," Dipper said, shifting his weight from one leg to the other. "Now," Stanford said, "let's get your stuff inside, then you can run around the forest or something." Both twins nodded, and he led them up the couple of stairs leading into the gift shop.
It was going to be strange living in a tourist trap. The merchandise was a bit cheesy, with 'Mr. Mystery' bobbleheads, snowglobes of the Shack, and t-shirts with question marks and dumb phrases like What is the Mystery Shack? and I visited the Mystery Shack and all I got was this shirt. Glancing at the cash register, he stopped and muttered something about “needing to crack down on some break rules." After passing a vending machine full of odd snacks, their great-uncle then opened a door which read Employees Only and the twins followed him into the living space.
The house was unfamiliar with its bizarre decor, but Mabel felt at home among the eccentric assortment. A lacy tablecloth with a magazine on it was draped over what appeared to be a T-rex skull replica, sat on the floor by a faded yellow armchair. There were taxidermy abominations and glue on the kitchen table, and also the television remote, for some reason. It wasn't really what you pictured when thinking of a guy who picks up two kids at the bus stop wearing a suit and fez. Hopeful thoughts were running through Mabel’s mind as she witnessed the clutter. Maybe I’ll be able to work on my projects out here without having to immediately move things back into our room.
"I didn't have much time to tidy up the place," Stanford said, opening a cupboard which contained glasses. "So you'll just have to adapt to the mess." "That's alright," Mabel said brightly, ignoring the flypaper in the corner that had a couple of the insects fixed to the fatal trap, one of them still twitching its wings. "It just makes it more... home-y!"
Dipper squinted at the singular chair sitting by the craft-covered table. "Where are we supposed to eat?" He asked, scrutinizing the only available surface aside from the countertops and getting elbowed by his sister. "What?" He hissed at her, watching her eyes flick from the old man to the kitchen sink. Sweeping the otter-mallard-turtleshell amalgamation to the side, Stanford cleared his throat. "I'll dig out two more chairs," he said. "Later. For now, let's get on with the tour."
After climbing up the creaky stairs and crossing through a barren room, he stopped before a closed door. "And now," he said, "in here is where you two will sleep." Stepping to the side, he gestured to the knob. "You've got two beds and a dresser, who could want more! ...We can find some furniture later. I'm bound to have it around..." Looking down at his wrist where a golden watch was, he continued. "Well, uh, would you look at that, I've got a tour in ten. See you two later!" With that he scooted past them, swiftly descending back down the stairs.
Dipper stared after him. "Well that was weird." Mabel just stared past her brother at the door. Reverently, she reached out and placed her hand upon the round knob. "Should I," she asked, "or should you?" With an exhale and a shrug, Dipper shrugged. "Do it."
So she did. With a turn of her wrist, the door swung inwards on rusty hinges, revealing a central triangle window, the top edges parallel with the slant of the ceiling. There was a twin mattress upon a bedframe against each wall, with a small lamp perched on top of a nightstand directly beneath the window.
Pulling her suitcase to the foot of the bed on the left, Mabel left it there and looked out the window. Meanwhile Dipper left his right inside the door and proceeded to pull out every drawer of the old wooden dresser. "I guess this is where we'll be for the next few months, then," he said, closing them in a methodical order. Drawing back from the glass, his sister went and brushed a hand over the bed. "My arms are all gelatin-y after dragging my suitcase all over the house," Mabel laughed, turning and falling onto her back, the mattress springs creaking under her weight. She then licked her hand and frowned. "No dust, huh."
"Yeah, it's almost like he cleaned in here," Dipper said. After a bit where he looked out their window, he spoke again. "D'you want to go out and explore a bit?" "Sure," Mabel replied, fingers drumming against her chest. "Just... one minute." With a nod her brother continued staring out the glass, thinking about just how different it all felt, thinking about how this was really where they’d be this summer. Away from… everything.
Mabel kicked her legs and sat up. "I'm ready now," she said. With a nod Dipper led the way out of the bedroom and down the brittle stairs, and out what their great-uncle called the porch door. Out around the front of the tourist trap they could hear the ongoing tour.
"...And here is where the to-scale model of the London bridge once stood," Stanford was saying. "It was recreated in Freez-e Pops, built out of such curious questions as 'What is a ghost's favorite ice cream flavor?' The answer was never found." The twins peered past the totem pole to watch the old man as he wiggled the fingers of his free hand, the other holding a cane topped with an 8-ball. The half-dozen tourists gaped in awe at the empty table.
"...Some things I will never understand," Dipper said, his sister shrugging in response. "It's got a charm," Mabel said, "A dumb sort of charm, but 'tis a charm nonetheless." Dipper groaned as Stanford proceeded to show a sack that 'mysteriously made money vanish' when placed inside. "Let's just go," he said, tugging his well-worn hat securely onto his head and turning away. After watching for a few more moments, Mabel rushed to catch up.
"Do you think we'll find fairies?" She asked. "Mushrooms? Oh - or unicorns!" With a small laugh Dipper poked her shoulder. "Mushrooms, maybe," he said. "But I feel like they'd be more likely to grow deeper in the forest, and we can't go that far and get lost on our first day." Blowing a raspberry, Mabel returned the finger jab, getting him on the nose. "C'mon, where's your sense of adventure?" "I don't know, but I'm pretty sure there were some arrow signs around front telling me where I could buy some," Dipper retaliated.
Laughing together, the two twins made their way along the start of a small trail, the sun shining down brightly through the trees. "We need to have a picnic," Mabel said. "Like, immediately. You got any granola bars?" "Not right now, but we might be able to find some dandelions or something." Dipper laughed as she stuck her tongue out with a ‘bleh’. “I thought you told me to stop eating nature.” “You did have to go to the ER after trying to eat poison ivy once,” Dipper said, stepping over a large root in the path, and Mabel jumped over it behind him.
The trees started switching from pine to birch, and the wind made a rustling sound through the leaves as they proceeded in silence. Mabel glanced over her shoulder, but all that looked back at her were the eyes of the birches. "It's sorta creepy in here." "What do you mean?" Dipper asked, slowing his stride and giving her a quizzical stare. "I dunno, I just feel like something's watching me, " Mabel said, twisting her sweater sleeve. Her brother laughed. "What, is my paranoia rubbing off on you or something?" Dipper moved past her as he continued up the stone-studded trail. "I can't believe we get to live right in a forest," he murmured, admiring the swathes of green needles.
"I dunno..." Mabel repeated, but she tried to keep a smile on anyway. Dipper’s right, I’m not supposed to get spooked like this. Dipper brother stopped a bit ahead. "Mushrooms!" He proclaimed with enthusiasm, getting closer to the base of one of the trees. "I didn't think we'd see them yet, huh." Mabel leaned down next to him. "Well, it's not the fairy circle I was hoping for, but it's still cool," she said.
“The stalks on these are pretty smooth… I’m pretty sure these could be Destroying Angels or something.” Dipper said, brushing aside the grass to look at the plain white fungi better. “So we can’t eat them?” Mabel grinned. “No, we aren’t eating any mushrooms! Not even when we don’t think they’ll kill us,” Dipper said, and Mabel giggled. “You’re no fun.”
–Crack!–
As the sound echoed through the trees Dipper stood in a panic, elbowing his sister in the stomach. “Ow!” Mabel hissed as she stepped back. “What was that?” Dipper asked, ignoring her pain and instead looking around. “I don’t know, maybe it was a deer or something?” Mabel squeaked, arms wrapped around herself. A deer? Dipper’s thoughts raced, and his heart started to race, too. They hadn’t seen any wildlife yet, so how could they be sure it wasn’t someone like a hunter or a criminal? “Have you seen any deer tracks?” He asked.
“Well, we haven’t been looking for deer tracks!” Mabel complained, “There’s tons of deer in Oregon, right?” “But–” what if it wasn’t? Taking a quick breath, Dipper turned to look behind him, but saw nothing moving through the trees. “Dipper, it’s okay, take a couple deep breaths,” Mabel said, reaching out and taking one of his hands. “Creepy flesh-eating deer only come out at night, and it’s still daytime!” “Not helping, Mabel,” Dipper snapped. “Sorry, sorry,” She said, her smile faltering.
“It’s probably nothing, just the wind.” Mabel reassured. “Let’s go back to the house, and we can come back out tomorrow with some pepper spray.” “Pepper spray?” Dipper asked incredulously, then inhaled slowly as Mabel squeezed his hand. “Yeah,” she giggled. “And I’ll bedazzle it first.” They stood like that for a moment, just breathing, before Mabel spoke again. “Okay?”
“Okay,” Dipper sighed and dropped Mabel’s hand. “Yeah, let’s head back.” “Okay Bro-bro, as long as you remember how to get out of these spooky woods,” Mabel said, wiggling her fingers and getting a laugh from her brother. However, a rustle from a nearby bush startled them both back into silence.
Every hair on Mabel’s neck felt raised as she stared at the bush, and she felt like something invisible was creeping up her spine. “Do we run?” She whispered, but before Dipper could answer, something stood up from behind the bush. Mabel prepared to run, but what was standing in front of them was… a goat. Not even an especially large or impressive goat. It almost looks cute, honestly.
“It’s just a goat,” Mabel said. “I… yeah,” Dipper replied, laughing a little. “Oh my god, all of that over a goat.” Training its slitted eyes on the kids, the goat bleated at them, then walked over to one of the trees and began eating leaves off the young branches. “It’s just a goat,” Mabel echoed. “A completely normal goat. Doing normal goat stuff. In the woods for some reason.” “...This place is so weird,” Dipper said.
“Back to the house?” “Back to the house.”