Urch was daydreaming about logging when Old Mabel fell from the sky. She remembered her mission: emissary.
“No time follow me,” she said in a course voice as Old Mabel got up from the floor and dusted herself off. “Unch is waiting. 7:10, tick tock. Gravity Falls.”
Old Mabel had never met Urch before. She began to think the obvious.
Urch opened the seldom used front door of the Blue Feather, part of the original castle it was built around. “You think that you are dreaming, no? Test it on this lamp blocking the open door. If you are dreaming, the room will remain lit when you turn off the light. Go ahead — try it.”
Old Mabel turned off the light. The room remain lit. “Now you know,” Urch said, and walked out the door into the forest. She had no choice but to follow.
Then she was at 97/97/97 with Urch. The two stand uncomfortably close to each other. “Unch lies along this line,” the child hobo said, pointing northeast.
“Unch is the orange you seek. He is the whole within the hole. Go within and you’ll see time itself split up into soapy bubbles. Alienatorooter.” Old Mabel then imagines 8 oranges sitting around The Table with a thick book in their midst. Not Floydodo but Floydada. A 9th appears to their south-southwest, quickly turning into a purple martin bird which then flies left into the woods. “9 not 8,” Old Mabel realizes. “The Table is incomplete still.”
“Unch will clarify. Nighttime in reality. Daytime in dreams. Walk with me.”
Old Mabel has decided to indulge in an old love and re-take up painting, but tonight finds her just staring at a blank canvas until she looks at the time and remembers the Table Meeting. “Don’t want to be late again!” she says as she stores away the paint laden palette.
But she was anyway. 7:05: Wheeler was already passing around oranges to everyone as she hustled up the stairs into the room. The Beatles walking Abbey Road once more adorned the wall at the top. And the flatties at the bottom she dreamed about 2 nights before remained. There was also a new throw pillow placed just to the left of the stairs going up.
“Ah, *Old* Mabel. Just in time for your fruit. Here you go.” Wheeler threw the orange at an unprepared Old Mabel, who was holding a notepad. The orange flew past her to the left, landing on the floor and bounding down the stairs she just navigated.
“*Sorry* I’m late,” she said, placing the notepad in front of her chair at The Table. “I’ll go retrieve that.”
“Please do, and hurry,” says Wheeler. “Hopefully it didn’t fall through the crackway into the lower floor. It might take you an hour to get back!”
Old Mabel quickly reviewed in her mind where the opening Wheeler mentioned was, and the route she would have to take to return if she too needed to fall through. 1st to 3rd to 2nd. That’s how it works in Wheeler’s lemony Blue Feather.
“Oh dear,” she said after going back down the stairs and not seeing the orange anywhere in the antechamber. “Looks like Wheeler’s worries have come to, er, *fruition*.”
She’d have to jump down.