The Distance Between (A Relativity Falls Story)

1920

Dipper was partway through his second year at the University of Alameda, and for the most part, it was going well. Yes, the boarding house he was staying at was cramped, and the landlady was bossy, and perhaps the teaching at the university was not as advanced as he would have loved, but he was finally doing what he loved, and it was immensely gratifying that he was clearly smarter than the rest of his class...well almost. When the marks were posted after each assessment, two students were consistently well ahead of the class, and would jostle for top marks. One was Dipper, but the other was a student named 'John Smith'. Dipper had no idea who this John Smith was, but he was determined to find out. He was very accustomed to being 'the intelligent one', and the idea that someone, especially someone so anonymous, was smarter than him, was unsettling. So he decided that he was going to find this 'John Smith' character, if even just for answers. How hard could it be?

It was a lot harder than he thought it would be. Everybody knew some John Smith or another, but not one of them happened to fit the criteria, and for the first time, Dipper wished that he actually paid better attention to the people around him. Talking to people, and having any kind of social presence was a lot harder when he didn't have his sociable, fun-loving sister to introduce him to people, make him go to parties, and generally force him to pay attention to anything other than his books. Don't think about her, Dipper reminded himself, don't think about her. There was something so horrible about having so much anger toward the person who, up until then, he had loved the most. So many formative memories, and so much of who he was today was bound up in her, only for all that to be destroyed. Don't think about her. Concentrate on finding John Smith.

He was eventually forced to ask his professor to pass on a message to John Smith, asking if they could meet in the nearby restaurant to talk. Professor Williams agreed to pass the message on, and so Dipper found himself sitting at a restaurant table that Saturday, awaiting the arrival of John Smith. He was reading a textbook to pass the time, when he was interrupted.

"You wanted to see me?" Dipper glanced up, and his jaw dropped. Whatever he had expected, it was not this. Was John Smith really–

"Ah, I see you were not expecting the only person who can beat you in class to be a girl from Korea," she said smugly, apparently enjoying his stunned expression.

"No, I wasn't," Dipper admitted, "Surely your name isn't John Smith, is it?" He knew this was a stupid question, but his mind was scrambling so much that any words were lucky.

"No, my name is Candy Chiu. Although Candy is not my given name either, but you will say my real name incorrectly, and I am not going to go there. I enrolled as John Smith because it sounds like the name of an American man, and American men have better luck here than Korean girls." Dipper was silent for a moment, thinking this over. Was this the mindset that his grandparents had coming to America, trying to repress their Polish and Jewish customs, to try and make opportunities for themselves and their children.

"Well, um, I also go by a name that's not my given name," Dipper replied, "People I'm close to call me Dipper." He hoped she wouldn't ask why, but was in no such luck.

"That is an unusual name," she said, eyes boring sharply into his, "Is there a reason?" Dipper thought about lying, or evading, but something told him that this girl, however unassuming she may have seemed, was not to be trifled with, and would have him figured out instantly.

"It's because I have this birthmark," he lifted the peaked newsboy cap that had been his constant companion since childhood, to reveal the offending mark, "It's shaped like the Big Dipper, as you can see."

"That is very unusual. Just like the rest of you." she announced, not in a tone that sounded offensive, but rather like she was stating the facts, "You are a very unusual man, Dipper Pines, but you are also clever. Clever enough to top me sometimes in marks."

"Oh yes," Dipper said, admiring her boldness, "What are you hoping to do with a science degree? Teaching? Or I guess you could use it for nursing?"

"None of those things," Candy shook her head, "I want to learn about engineering. That is the kind of knowledge that I can use to help my family on their farm. And perhaps, now that women have the vote, women may get to do other interesting things soon. What are you going to do with your science degree?" Even though it had been a long time, the words 'become a doctor' and 'fly around the world' were still so readily on the tip of his tongue. Dipper took a moment to disentangle himself from the snares of a past behind him, and gave the answer he always wished he could give.

"To be perfectly honest, the primary reason I'm studying science is just a love of knowledge and discovery, but I also would love to go on to be a researcher. Specifically researching anomalies and the paranormal."

"That is interesting," Candy said, "Would there perhaps be any chance that a future researcher may need someone who knows about machines as his partner?" Dipper smiled.

"Maybe there is."

***

No-one watching Mabel dance in the crowded club would have picked her as anything less that radiantly happy. Her brown eyes sparkled, as much as the glitter on the flapper dress that perfectly suited her slim build, and her energy was boundless. In reality, Mabel was struggling more than a little to make ends meet. When her father had thrown her out, he had at least given her a little money to support herself, and she'd been able to rely on her friends, but she was finding herself in a slight spot of bother, now that more of her friends were getting married, and were now either moving out of Piedmont, or their husbands were unwilling to support Mabel. She wasn't sure exactly what she was going to do with herself now, as her supply of cash was dwindling dangerously low. She knew that she could possibly try and apply for a teaching position at a nearby school (although her bob would give her away as a flapper, and the school authorities would likely be hesitant about hiring her), but that was a long-term solution and Mabel needed money quickly–very quickly.

Suddenly a memory came to her, from almost thirteen years ago, of a conversation about business between an eighteen-year-old Tyrone, and their father. Mabel, having only been eight at the time and utterly uninterested in business, hadn't really been listening, but one thing that had been said had stuck with her. "The secret to business is finding out what people want most, and are willing to pay for."

"Hmm," Mabel murmured to herself, "What do people want most?" She looked around the club, at the dancers, and the musicians. The club was swinging, but the energy wasn't everything it could have been. It hadn't been the same since...since Prohibition.

It wasn't long before every speakeasy in Alameda recognised the sight of Mabel Pines.