The Lemon Meringue Boy

Part 34

It was smooth sailing. The Stan O' War was chock full of beakers and blinking lights like I would've suspected, but there was also a lot that I didn't expect.

 For example, Mabel and I both spent plenty of time in the "Live Specimen Observation Lab". I was fascinated by all the weird, gooey, and glowey fish and animals inhabiting the beakers and tanks that lined every wall. I recognized a few, like the blobfish and the goblin shark. Stan probably picked those out just because they looked cool. The rest were new species that Ford told us he was examining.

 He showed us a small, brown, boring-looking fish, seeming to marvel at it. When Mabel asked what made it so special, Ford explained that the fish may hold the key to curing cancer, and that he was searching for a way to extract the life-giving cells from the fish's bloodstream. 

He went on to say that he'd tested his experimental solution on a few human cancer patients and, although they were not completely cured, their cancerous tumors greatly reduced in size. The only side effect was that after a couple of days the patients started to grow fine scales behind their ears, but the slimy extremities could be easily covered with the proper type of hat or headband.

Next on the tour were Stan's favorite features. These included some heavy duty fishing gear and a crow's nest. We went fishing for a few hours after he excitedly explained the use of every piece of salty, barnacle infested equipment. 

Everybody ended up catching something. Ford got his first, reeling in a catfish as long as his own arm. Mabel caught a female lobster, which she said she was going to put in with her other one, the one from her first date with Gideon. She then started rambling on about her future job as a pet lobster breeder.

 While she was talking, I felt a massive tug on my line, causing me to lurch forward. Ford immediately jumped to my side and grabbed my wrists to help. I had used some of his special bait, made to attract weirdness. I knew that in the Gravity Falls Lake, I would get something wild. 

The shark pole I was using was bending to its limit. Mabel and Stan jumped in to help me and Ford pull. Just when I thought the line would break, the creature emerged.

Its snout was long and scaly, its pupilless yellow eyes glaring up at me. Its head was as long as Ford or Stan was tall. It snarled and bared its sharp prehistoric teeth before roaring, making a shrill, rumbling sound. It almost sounded like a beaver with a chainsaw. It flicked its translucent green tail out of the water, splashing all four of us with sludgy lake water, before falling back into an alligator death roll. The ferocious spinning caused the boat to rock and churn the water. 

The line finally snapped and the creature slid back into the depths of the lake, its slimy dark green scales glistening in the summer sun. 

Then Stan caught his. It was a bass.

The rest of the afternoon was spent enjoying the bobbing current and the cool spray of wind off the lake. I stood at the bow of the battered sailboat, drinking in the warm summer day. Bill was back at the shack, most likely too scared to cause trouble. My two great uncles, the greatest heroes I know, are spending the summer with me and Mabel in the best place on earth, Gravity Falls, Oregon. The school year is over and summer's just begun. I was having the best time I'd had in months. 

"Okay, you two. Time to get off." Stan called over his shoulder as we pulled up beside the dock.

"Hey Dipper!" Ford called me over to the starboard side of the boat. He beckoned for me to look over the rail. I peered out at the grime and barnacles clinging to the battered paneling. Even though it had been less than a year since he and Stan had got it, the ship had definitely gotten some use. Ford pointed at a little knob on the dock, about eight feet down.

 "Do you see that little T-shaped plastic knob down there?" I nodded. "Here's the best part about docking a boat." He grinned at me. "I need you to jump down there with this and tie us to the dock." 

He dumped a long bundle of frayed, tawny rope in my arms. I looked back down at the splintery graying wood of the boards. I could easily sprain my ankle or break something.

"All the way down there? Isn't there, like, a ladder or something?"

"Nope. I just thought you might want to help out. It's fine if you don't feel up to it." I was about to back out when he lowered his voice and said "Say "HA". It helps." I blushed. The magnet gun. He remembered how badly I failed. He was giving me another chance. I had to be a man for him. He's seen my nerdy side and now I'll show him my strength. I took a deep breath, bundling the rope at my side.

I used my arms to hoist myself into a sitting position on the rail and swung my legs out over the edge. Carefully, I lowered myself to the small ledge on the other side of the bars. My arms were still safe on the proper side of the railing, but the rest of my body was left to the structural integrity of a small metal ridge. There was still a good four feet of water between the boat and the dock. 

I took another deep breath, in through my nose, out through my mouth. I could taste the sweat on my lips. Just get it over with. I told myself. You do this and you're a man. One foot left the ledge, then then the second, a rhythm in which I didn't miss a beat.

Once both of my legs were left to dangle freely, I realized I didn't want them to. I didn't want to jump, but I already had. In the fraction of a second that was left I tightened my grasp on the crusted rope, catching myself halfway to the boards. I swung back from the dock, my body slamming against the metal siding. My hands were attacked with splinters from the stiff, protruding fibers as I scrambled to get a grip on the rope. I felt tears build behind my eyes, called up by the burning sensation in my palms.

 "Dipper! Kid! Are you okay?" I looked up and saw Ford peering down at me with concerned eyes. His deep worry line blatantly apparent between his brows. He started at seeing the pinprick tears in my eyes. 

"It's okay Dipper! Just grab my hand!" He reached out to me, all six of his fingers splayed desperately. I shooed his hand away, curling around the rope. My biceps burned from the effort of keeping myself up.

"It's NOT okay! I need to man up and this is how I'll do it!" Ford retracted his hand hesitantly, his face contorted to a worried grimace.

"Are you sure? You don't have to if you don't want to. I could still_"

"NO!" I cut him off, shoving off the boat and toward the dock with such force that I lost my grip. My arms flailed as I hurtled down to the slick, unforgiving wood. At the last second I felt a tug on my vest, yanking me back to the boat deck.

After catching my breath, I looked up to see Ford tucking a strange, gun-like contraption into his coat. "That new?" I panted. He looked down at me with no expression.

"Yes. Got the idea from the grappling hook. It's quicker, made for more delicate procedures." I sighed. He must have thought I was crazy, freaking out about a dumb chore.

"Sorry. I just wanted to show you how I could do more than crunch numbers and theorize and all that. When you mentioned the magnet gun, I just_"

"Dipper! Are you kidding me? You really believe that I don't think you're tough? We fought the mythical beasts of DD&D together! You rescued me from an extraterrestrial prison! You went against Bill! I just thought you'd want a redo on the magnet gun. It didn't mean I didn't respect you!" I smiled. I was being stupid.

"Thanks Great Uncle Ford." He helped me up off the ground.

"What's taking so long?" Grunkle Stan called out from the cockpit.

"Bonding. Mushy stuff. You want to hear about it?" Ford grinned. That ended the conversation.