Gravity Rises (S1)

VV: Part Three

At first, the crowd was so dense that Mabel couldn't make out any of the displays. She heard Melody's voice, though: "This, folks, is what you came here to see. The Hall of Mysteries! Full of everything our owner has collected over the years, this gallery — though small — contains paranormal residue, strange talismans, and remnants left behind by magical creatures. Go ahead and look around; I'll explain some of our most amazing artifacts. We'll move as a group through the Museum — but if something catches your eye, feel free to fall behind. We only ask that you don't touch anything, unless it's labelled that you're allowed to touch it. Sound good?" After various murmurs of assent from the group, Melody smiled in approval. "Great, thanks. Now, our first display. . ."

Mabel didn't particularly like being guided through the displays when she could look at them and read their descriptions herself. So she tuned Melody out and drifted across the hall to the first display that caught her eye. Hardened samples of mud sat under clear glass, and each sample had a giant humanoid footprint set into the clay. She knew instantly what it was, even if the large banner overhead hadn't given it away: sasquatch prints.

She wanted to break out into an excited grin, but her fear wouldn't let her. These prints could still very well be fake. She swallowed. Like Dipper had said: At least the Museum was fun to look at. But like she had said: That wouldn't be enough.

The tour group moved slowly through the Hall of Mysteries. There were all sorts of samples on display: more footprints, like the sasquatch display; tufts of hair surrounded by scraps of paper, which gave details on the sample analyses; and entire body parts from mythical creatures, like a jackalope skull or the wing of a vampire bat that enjoyed drinking human blood. One display showed the silhouette of a fairy, trapped and fossilized in a tear-shaped sample of amber (Dipper seemed to love that one). Then, besides the samples, there were theoretical drawings of all sorts of animals, most of them crosses between other normal species. Some of it seemed possible — but all of it seemed improbable, even implausible. Rather than her fears being assuaged, Mabel's worries only grew.

Then the worst happened. Melody led the tour group to a small, clear container of blue goop. "This," she announced, "is our collection of ectoplasm. Ghosts leave this substance whenever they come to visit, and we've gathered it over the years. Right here is a bowl of it. As the sign says, you're welcome to touch it — it won't harm you."

People surged forward to dip their fingers in the bowl of ectoplasm. Mabel recoiled. Did people not realize they were touching something that a million other people had touched? Besides, everyone knew that ectoplasm was more of a greenish-yellow color. With that realization, Mabel's heart sunk. This. . . this probably wasn't real.

Sure enough, Melody hung back and leaned over to the twins. "I came up with that recipe myself," she said with a wink. "People love it. It feels all squishy on your hands."

And that was when Mabel's hopes came crashing down around her.

The excited murmurings of the crowd scraped on her ears, and the walls suddenly seemed to close in on her. Her breathing sped up. It was fake. It was all fake. This Museum was fake. Great Uncle Stanford was a fake.

Just like her parents had said.

"Mabel?" A gentle hand touched her shoulder. "Are you okay?"

No, she wasn't, but she appreciated that Dipper cared. "Let's get out of here," she murmured. If Ford's museum was fake, his lab probably wasn't any more authentic.

"Here, kids, I'll show you the lab now," Melody said. She caught a glimpse of Mabel's face and frowned in concerned. "Mabel? Everything all right?"

Mabel took a deep breath. "Yeah," she lied. She didn't want to go to the lab anymore, but at least Ford would be there. At least she could demand an explanation for all of this.