Winged Falls

//Chapter One//

But Stan seemed to have forgotten him. "Soos, there was a spillage in the tour hall! Come clean it up!"

"Sure thing, Mr. Pines," Soos said in his round, forward voice. "What kind of spillage?"

"I'm not going to say," Stan grunted. Soos shrugged and followed his employer out of the gift shop.

Mason watched them go and turned back to Wendy. "He isn't really going to make me work in the Emporium, is he?"

Wendy raised her eyebrows. "This is Stan we're talking about, dude. If he decides you need to be spending your time gluing together fake taxidermy, that's what you gotta do."

Mason frowned. "What do you mean, fake taxidermy?"

"The attractions," Wendy replied. "What, you didn't think those were real, did you?"

He had, actually. "B-but, Ford and Stan have all sorts of supernatural adventures—"

"Sure we—they do, but tourists don't wanna see real magic stuff. Plus I think Stan has fun trying to come up with weirder things than he finds out in the forest. Anyway, if everything was real, we'd have some pretty big issues with the customers. Ask Ford about a certain experience with a Gremloblin sometime."

Mason's face fell. "I would if I ever saw him long enough to have a conversation," he muttered under his breath.

He didn't think Wendy could hear him, but she gave him a light punch on the shoulder. "Cheer up, man, I'm sure you'll get your chance to talk to Ford. And who knows, maybe when you do, you'll find out he really isn't the best person to talk to." She said this last part with a wink, but it just made Mason feel worse.

He opened his mouth to reply, but before he could say anything, there was a sound of machinery behind him.

"Mason, may I speak with you?"

Mason spun around to see the vending machine partway open, and Ford's grey head sticking out from behind it. The young teen didn't know what to say, so he just gaped at his great uncle, looking back and forth between him and Wendy.

"And maybe that chance will come sooner than you think," Wendy said quietly, half a grin on her face.

Ford didn't seem to hear her. "Mason?"

Mason turned back to him and blinked rapidly. "Um, yeah, of course."

There was an awkward moment of silence where Mason realized his legs were supposed to be moving.

"In here," Ford said.

Mason's mouth opened and shut again. Ever since he'd arrived at the Emporium, he'd been told never to try to go behind the vending machine. Behind the vending machine was for Ford only, and Stan on occasion. And now he was being invited in there!

"Okay."

It seemed a lame response compared to what he was thinking, but it was all his mouth could manage.

Even after that, it took a push from Wendy to set him forward in motion. "Good luck," she whispered from behind him.

As Mason headed across the gift shop to Ford—a journey that felt a lot longer than its actual five steps—all he could think was that he had done it again. His "deer in the headlights," as Wendy liked to call it. He couldn't help that his body froze whenever his mind hit a road bump. It just happened.

Ford pushed the vending machine door open when Mason reached him to let him through, and the boy moved awkwardly past, feeling his heartbeat speed up and his body start sweating. Ugh, now was not a good time for his sweating problem to act up!