The Boy Who Cried Werewolf

Robbie's Tale

Mabel awoke and prepared a small bag for her errands for the day. A little notebook- she laughed at herself. Just like Dipper and Grunkle Ford, she thought. It must be a Pines Family thing. Mabel grabbed the bottle of maple syrup Lee and Nate had gifted her with the other day, and headed downstairs. She hoped she could talk Melody into letting her make pancakes for breakfast.

After a an extremely satisfactory breakfast of pancakes and bacon, the Mystery Shack Gang (sans Dipper) sat finishing their coffee, while Mabel made notes in her book regarding yesterday's conversation with Lee and Nate. Stan took the remnants of syrup in its bottle and held it up to the light as if studying it. "Y'know," he though aloud, "This stuff's really good- a lot better than the ol' generic 'breakfast syrup.' We should totally lay in some cases of this stuff."

"I concur," Ford agreed.

Melody sat down with her coffee mug. "I can go into town on our shopping day and get a case or two." She turned to Mabel. "Do you have their number? I can place the order now, to make sure they have enough when I drop by."

Soos reached out and took the bottle from Stan and regarded it thoughtfully.

"Y'know," he said, "Big-leaf maples have a lot less sugar than the sugar maples of New England, so you need way more sap to produce the same amount of syrup you can get from, like, those new England maples. But the stuff that comes out of the Pacific Northwest here, has a much richer, darker, and more complex flavor, with hints of- " Soos removed the cap and drank the remainder of the syrup like a rustic sommelier- "Ummmm...I would say, caramel...molasses...and maybe just a touch of cinnamon. It's a bold syrup for a bold people."

The others at table stared at Soos, unable to speak, as often happened when one of his unexpected bouts of lucidity was on display.

Ford discreetly leaned toward Stan. "Maybe he's some kind of 'idiot savant?'" he whispered.

"Yeah," Stan replied somewhat less discreetly than his brother. "Only without the 'savant' part."

After helping to clean up, Mabel set off for the Valentino's Funeral Home. When she eventually arrived, she checked around to make sure there were no clients currently being served. Then, she went to the front door and knocked. She didn't have to wait long for an answer.

"Well! Why, if it isn't little Miss Pines!" Mrs. Valentino fussed as she opened the door and saw her. "And look how you've grown!" Mrs. Valentino took Mabel's hands and turned her about, admiring her. "How have you been, sweetie?"

"Hello, Mrs. Valentino," Mabel answered with courteous enthusiasm. "Thank you; it really is great to be back!" She looked around. "Where's MISTER Valentino?" she asked solicitously.

"Oh, he's in town at the post office, trying to clear up a silly little misunderstanding over a shipment of formaldehyde," she told her. "Have you come to see Robbie?"

"Yes, please," Mabel answered. "I heard he was working here with you guys. Is he around?"

"He's down in the new section of the cemetery, taking care of the lawn, and tidying up the headstones," she answered cheerfully. "Just head to the park, go down the main road, then at the bottom of the hill, take the east road to the end. You'll find him there."

"Thanks, Mrs. Valentino!" Mabel called as she turned to run down the lane.

"Oh, Mabel?" Mrs. Valentino called after her. "Would you be a sweetie and tell Robbie we'll be having an early lunch in a couple of hours?"

"Sure thing, Mrs. Valentino!" Mabel called as she scampered off.

Mabel found Robbie at the edge of a large, freshly mown lawn just beside a wooded area with ranks of headstones and monuments. He sat on a narrow path dividing the sections, sipping from a bottle of iced tea. His riding mower was parked nearby.