Gravitational Phantoms

Chapter Nine

Danny scrambled backwards. There were way too many people in here, and three of them were bigger than he was. Although Wendy and Stan had mysteriously disappeared when Pacifica walked in.
The girl in question was regarding him. Her face seemed like a mixture of disgust and curiosity, but it looked like more of a default setting than an actual judgment.
"Who's this?" Pacifica asked.
"That's Danny. He's going to be staying here for...a little while." Dipper responded.
"Why?" The blond eyed Danny.
"Personal issues," Dipper said shortly.
Pacifica kept looking at the hybrid.
"You seem...familiar," she said thoughtfully. "Is your family rich?"
"N-no." Danny mumbled.
The girl snapped her figures. "You were at a gala my parents hosted a little while back! With your friend, Samantha."
"S-Sam," Danny said quietly. "J-just Sam."
Mabel sucked in a breath. The twelve-year-old remembered Sam's name from their rooftop conversation earlier.
"So why are you here, anyway?" Dipper tried to steer the conversation away from Danny's personal life, for obvious reasons.
"We're having a small problem, and my parents are refusing to get help," Pacifica sent a cautious glance at Danny.
"Okay, what kind of problem?"
"A box problem," she put extra emphasis on the word 'box,' and Danny's ears pricked up.
Dipper groaned. "Again? We just helped you with that guy last week."
Pacifica huffed. "Well, he's back. And he won't leave me alone!"
"D-does he look l-like a fl-floating b-blue man?" Danny piped up.
Dipper smiled. "I see that you've met the Box Ghost, master of all things cardboard and square."
"Y-Yeah, he w-was a h-huge pro-problem back where I'm fr-from."
"Was he an actual threat?" Mabel asked. "Because he's more of an annoying chore to deal with."
"H-he used to wa-wake me up in the m-middle of the n-night for no r-reason."
"That sounds like something that he would do," Mabel giggled.
"So, we'll go do that while you stay here," Dipper said. "Or you can come with us."
"I-I'll come," Danny answered nervously.
Mabel grinned. "Awesome! To the Mystery Mobile!"
She dashed out the door at top speed. Dipper glanced at Danny. "She means the golfcart."
"Oh." Danny and Pacifica said in unison.
They left the Shack, and Danny saw that Mabel was already waiting for them in a beat-up golfcart that looked as if it had seen better days. She had the golf club bag swung over her shoulder, and there were several other miscellaneous objects in her hands. Mabel slammed her hand down on the horn, making Danny jump about a foot in the air.
"C'mon, slowpokes! Let's go bust a ghost!"
Dipper and Pacifica hopped into the front with Mabel, while Danny sat in the back. He had just gotten settled when the brunette girl floored the gas and they shot off down the dirt path and into the forest.
Mabel was a either a very bad driver or an exceptional one, depending in how you looked at it. She dodged every obstacle at top speed, launching off the top of rocks and turning Danny's stomach. Dipper didn't appear to mind it much, although Pacifica was turning the same shade of green that Danny felt.
They drove through a small town that seemed full of weird characters, like a woman with bad make-up and one eye constantly closed. Or a man with enormous muscles, gap teeth, and red hair that looked like he might have been related to Wendy.
Mabel swerved and spun the wheel, shouting at the people who were actually supposed to be on the road. A man with a strange beard (and were those actual cat whiskers?) shouted something about sore knees, Mabel yelled at two policemen about being lame.
Danny leaned forward.
"Is s-she always li-like this on the r-road?" He asked Dipper.
"Sometimes," he answered. "Other days she just glares at everything on the road."
"Her driving is somehow worse than her fashion sense," Pacifica growled. Dipper reached down from nowhere and picked up a spray bottle.
"Bad. Bad Pacifica, bad," he said, squirting her. "No insulting my sister. Bad."
Pacifica yelped and tried to shelter herself.
"Not the hair," she shrieked.
Finally, they pulled up to a huge, ornate gate. It swung open, revealing a truly giant mansion. Mabel parked the golfcart next to a hedge, then grabbed a peacock and set it on the top.
"Guard it with your life," she told the bird seriously.
Pacifica led the twins and the hybrid into her house, ducking around a vase.
"My parents don't know that you're here, so be quiet," the blond girl whispered.
"Will do," Dipper said, giving a thumbs up. "So where is he?"
A puff of blue mist floated out of Danny's mouth.
"I AM THE BOX GHOST!" A voice bellowed. "BEWARE!"
"Found him!" Mabel chirped.
The four turned around and saw a floating blue man wearing overalls wiggling his fingers like he had just finished telling a scary story. He gaped at Danny.
"Phantom! You-you're alive!" Then he puffed up his chest. "No matter! You shall not defeat me with your cylindrical container!"
"Seriously man?" Dipper sighed. "You might as well give up now."
"Never! For I am the BOX-" his voice cut of as something splashed onto his body. Boxy flopped out of the air and landed at their feet.
Mabel shrugged and swirled the bottle full of liquid that she was holding. "What? He was gonna go on all night if I didn't do anything."
Dipper shook his head. "Never mind that. Do you have the vial?"
His sister tossed him something, and the brunette boy pointed it at the blue ghost. A light came from the mouth, and Danny was reminded of the Fenton Thermos. Even more so when it sucked Boxy in and trapped him there.
"Why did he call you 'Phantom'?" Pacifica asked. Danny froze.
"N-no r-reason."
"Doesn't Phantom mean ghost?" Mabel mused, tilting her head. Dipper sucked in a breath.
"Yeah," he said quickly. "It does! Maybe...maybe Danny looks like a ghost! Named Phantom! Yes! That's it."
Pacifica snorted. "Whatever. Thanks for getting rid of him."
Dipper saluted. "Yep. Now we have to go. To a, uh, thing. Yeah. A thing. C'mon Danny, Mabel. Let's go."
He grabbed their hands and took off back towards the golfcart.
"That was close," Dipper muttered. "Didn't occur to me that ghosts would know."
Danny felt his insides turn to mush.
"Kn-know ab-about w-what?" He stuttered. Dipper sighed.
"Get in the cart. We'll explain when we get back to the Shack."
Danny's entire body was shaking with fear. What was going on? Did they...know? Would they hurt him? Sell him to the agents?
Mabel drove unusually slowly, or at least that was what Danny thought. He really didn't have the best judge of her driving skills.
Mabel helped the ghost boy out of the golfcart, wincing when he flinched away from her outstretched hand.
The three headed to the living room, Danny's heart pounding with anxiety. Dipper hopped up on the yellow chair. The twelve-year-old clapped his hands softly. "Well," he said. "Let's just get the big one out of the way first."
He hesitated for a second before clearing his throat.
"We know you're a Halfa."