Christmas in the Shack

Chapter 1: Christmas Visitor

When Dipper and Mabel Pines had been little kids, they hardly slept at all on Christmas Eve night—they were too excited while they waited for Santa.

Well, here it was Christmas Day, 2013, and they were now fourteen years old—and they still hadn't slept the night before, because they were too excited waiting for someone coming to visit the next day.

The Pines household celebrated both Hanukkah (for Dad) and Christmas (for Mom), and Hanukkah had ended nearly three weeks earlier. The eight gifts that each of them had received now seemed old to them. That Christmas morning, from four a.m. until about eleven, they were busy with the ones that they'd unwrapped under the tree before sunup.

Now Mabel slumped on the sofa, head lolled back, mouth open and drooling a little bit, as she snored gently over the first of two toboggan caps—the kits had been one of her gifts—she was knitting for her two Grunkles. Next to her, leaning against her, her twin Dipper slept as well, a huge, glossy, brand-new book about ancient mythologies from all over the world open on his knees. Both kids were still in pajamas, Mabel's her trademark lavender floppy-disk top over fluffy red-flannel pants, Dipper's a midnight-blue with the Big Dipper on the front in little white starry dots.

Their mom, busy in the kitchen with the Christmas meal—late lunch or early dinner— kept coming to the door and smiling at her children. Her husband constantly kibitzed, tasting the dressing, basting the turkey, checking out the two pies in the bottom oven, munching nuts that he wasn't supposed to touch.

Twenty minutes past noon, he answered the kitchen phone, spoke for about a minute, and then hung up. He came to stand beside his wife, putting his arms around her waist. "That was our visitor. Just gave the directions for the last few turns. Maybe we ought to wake them up."

"No, let's wait," Mom answered. "You know what it would be like—as though we'd released the hounds."

So for five minutes or thereabouts, the Pines twins slumbered peacefully while Dad kept pacing the living room and looking out a front window every thirty seconds, and then at last he said, "Here we go!" He went through the kitchen to the side door—it opened into the garage—and stepped out, raising the garage door. The forest-green car had just parked in the drive.

He walked out into the California sunshine as a tall, red-haired girl in a green jacket climbed out of the driver's seat. "Hi!" Dad said to her. "You made good time!" He introduced himself.

"Wendy Corduroy," the girl said, smiling and flipping back her incredibly long braids. "I would've known you anywhere! There's a strong family resemblance. So Mabel and Dipper didn't want to come greet me?"

Dad chuckled. "They're snoozing! It's just twelve-thirty, and they got up around four." He ran his hand over the warm hood of the car. "I can see you're starting a restoration job! What is this, a '72?"

"A '73," she said. "And it runs better than it looks!"

"Could I see the engine?"

"Sure, sir," Wendy said, leaning into the driver's side and popping the hood.

He laughed. "You don't have to call me 'sir.' Hey, wow, look at that! You had some work done!"

"Nope," she said, grinning. "Did it all myself. Been savin' up my salary, half in a college fund, half in a keep-the-Dart-going fund."

"You rebuilt this engine yourself?"

"Mostly, yeah, and it runs good, but I can do better. I bought an even better engine and for just a hundred bucks! I've got it taken apart now, seein' what I need to do to get it in the best shape."

"A hundred dollars! That was a bargain."

Wendy shrugged. "Well, it came from a car a guy had wrecked in '76, totaled it, buckled the frame an' all, but he was, like, sentimental, and stuck the wreck in his barn. Stayed there until the guy passed away last summer, an' his widow just wanted to clean the junk out of the barn. All I could use is the engine, but it's in great shape, less than 20,000 miles. The one there, it's got at least nine hundred thousand miles on it!"

"Wow," Mr. Pines said again. "You rebuilt a slant-6! Can I adopt you?"

Wendy laughed. "My Dad wouldn't like that. Hey, you want to take my car out for a spin?"

Mr. Pines slammed the hood down and with the eagerness of a child asked, "Could I?"

"Sure! Just help me get my overnight bag and tote bags of presents out of the trunk first."

He did, and they went through the garage. Mr. Pines introduced Wendy to Mrs. Pines in the kitchen, and he took her small suitcase and bags to the guest room. Then he said, "I'm gonna get to drive a classic Dodge Dart!"

Wendy handed him the keys and said, "Have fun!"

He was already out the door.

Mrs. Pines shook her head. "Men and cars! Our Christmas dinner won't be ready for another two hours. Would you like some herbal tea, dear?" she asked.

"Sounds great." Wendy shucked her jacket. "I'm not used to your climate! It's a whole lot colder up in Oregon. Better make sure that Mabel and Dipper pack some warm clothes."

"Oh, I have it all on my checklist," Mrs. Pines said. "Do you like peppermint tea?"

"I love peppermint!"

"Here, while it's steeping, I'll take your coat back to the guest room."

Wendy took the chance to peep into the living room, where Dipper and Mabel still slept on, oblivious. She re-joined their mother and they sat at the kitchen table. Mrs. Pines poured two cups of fragrant tea and offered Wendy a honey jar. Wendy took two spoonfuls. "Mabel and Dipper have really shot up a lot just since summer," Wendy said. "They'll almost be able to look me in the eye, and as you see, I'm a very gawky girl. That's an impressive growth spurt!"

"I'm so pleased they're going to get to visit their great-uncle Stanford again," Mrs. Pines said, holding her cup in both hands. "They have so much fun up in Gravity Falls. Oh, and they've told us all about Mr. and Mrs. Ramirez, and you, too, of course. Mabel thinks you're just like a big sister." She leaned closer. "And don't tell him I said so, but I think Dipper has a tiny little crush on you!"

"No!" Wendy said, pretending surprise.

"Yes! But, dear, don't say anything. It would only embarrass him. Boys go through these phases, you know."

"Oh, sure. I have three brothers of my own," Wendy told her. "Don't worry. I love Mabel to death, and she and Dipper and I have a lot of fun together. I guess because my mom died when I was little, I sort of missed out on a lot of my childhood, and they help me catch up."

"I should tell you too," Mrs. Pines said, dropping her voice to almost a whisper, "that the twins' dad may call Dipper by his real name. I know my boy never lets anyone know what it is. When he was a toddler, he got so used to my calling him Dipper that he treats that like his real name. But don't let it throw you if you hear him called Mason while you're here. Well, how was your drive down?"

Wendy sipped her tea. "Fine, really very smooth. Not much traffic on Christmas Day. I left Gravity Falls way early this morning, and except for gas an' bathroom breaks, drove straight through. Tomorrow the traffic will probably be heavier, but if we leave around nine, I should still get them to their great-uncle's place before eight at night."

"Oh, dear—you missed Christmas with your family!"

"No, not really," Wendy said with a smile. "We always celebrate on Christmas Eve. Then the next day my dad piles us into the truck and we drive, like, twenty miles and then hike 'way out in the woods for a week of apoc—uh, I mean rough camping. I'm pretty good at it, but that's not something I miss all that much, and I was lucky he let me off the hook this year."

"Well, we're so happy you could come. Um, on the drive up to Oregon tomorrow—you will be careful?"

"I was the top student in Driver's Ed," Wendy assured her. "I've never had even so much as a parking ticket, and absolutely no moving violations. And I observe speed limits and always drive defensively. Like a tank driver!"

Mrs. Pines laughed. "I see why the twins are so fond of you. Your hair is so pretty! Those long, long braids—it must be a lot of work to keep them so nice. Oh, listen, that must be my husband returning. You've impressed him, I think. He loves classic cars!"

And indeed Mr. Pines came bouncing into the kitchen, all smiles. "Dear, Wendy's a mechanic! She has that Dart running as if it was just off the assembly line. Now, that's a real car! Solid, dependable, no computer components to glitch—"

"My husband," Mrs. Pines said fondly, "is in software design."

"Well," he said, rubbing the back of his neck almost exactly the way Dipper did, "if I designed automotive software, and if every car had my software in it, I wouldn't mind so much. But some of these other code writers are real idiots!"

"We ought to wake up the kids," Mrs. Pines said. "My schedule is getting all off."

"Let me do it," Wendy said.

She tiptoed into the living room, gently settled on the sofa next to Dipper, and then said pretty loudly, "Dudes, we gonna laze around here all day, or what?"

Mabel and Dipper woke at the same moment and both yelled, "Wendy!"

They jumped on her, hugged and laughed, and then they all stood up and looked at each other.

"Hey, looka this!" Mabel said, giving Wendy an ear-to-ear smile.

"Beautiful!" Wendy said. "When'd you get the braces off?"

"Last week! I'm thtill getting uthed to talking without them!"

"Hey, I remember how it was," Wendy said. "But girl, you got gorgeous teeth now!"

Mabel reached out and stroked one of her braids. "Wow. You must've had a long braid train to help you with this!"

"Nah, did it myself. Wanted to look less wild for your folks, you know. But let me look at you. Stand straight!" Both twins raised their chins, and Wendy grinned and shook her head. "Man, you guys are really growin' up on me! Dipper, you still keeping up that exercise routine? I mean, you look pretty buff!"

Dipper had hardly spoken to her, and he stared at her with big, big eyes, looking almost as if he were about to weep with joy. Then, exactly as his father had done, he rubbed the back of his neck. "Uh, yeah, I guess I sort of have—"

"Tell her, bro!" Mabel crowed, elbowing him sharply in the ribs.

"Mabel, it's not that big a deal!" Dipper complained.

"Yeah it is!" To Wendy, Mabel said, "My broregard here made the school Junior Track team! He ran the hundred-meter dash in twelve and a half seconds!"

"Aw, Mabel . . . . "

"Wow! That's real good time, man!" Wendy said.

Dipper sighed deeply and looked miserable. "Yeah, but—well—the state finals are gonna be June 6th and 7th. If our school gets that far, I can't go to Gravity Falls until after."

Mrs. Pines stood in the kitchen doorway, drying her hands on a towel. "He's so conflicted about that!"

Wendy laughed again and ruffled Dipper's hair. "Tell you what, big guy: You make it to the finals, I will personally come down and sit in the stands and cheer you on. Then I'll drive you guys back up, and you won't have a long, boring bus trip. And that way you won't miss the fishing opener an' Summerween!"

"Oh," Mrs. Pines said, "thank you, dear. That's so kind of you!"

Mr. Pines came up behind her, put his hands on his wife's shoulders, and beamed at the kids. "You can stay with us again," he insisted. "And we will absolutely pay for the gas—it'll still be a lot cheaper than two bus tickets!"

"All settled!" Mabel said, raising her hand for silence in a dramatic way. "Now for the important part—Dah,ta-dah dat ta-dah! PRESENTS!"

"First," Mrs. Pines said firmly, "you two get dressed!"

"Aw, Mom," Mabel grumped, but she and Dipper ran to their rooms, determined to get back in record time.