Chapter 13

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The ornery ghost Norman left in the gift shop had quieted while the three spoke. When they returned, it was sitting placidly on the ground. Much like the vegan-geist from the diner, the ghost had lost its red glow and demonic appearance, leaving it a healthy ghost-green and a much more human look. His hands were folded on his lap, across is plump stomach. He looked up when the three entered.

However, all of this was apparent to Norman alone. Having reverted back to normal, he was no longer visible to the Pines twins. 

"Is he there?" Dipper asked. 

"Yeah," Norman said, "On the potato."

The ghost frowned at them. "Who are you guys?"

"What do you mean?" Norman said, "You were the one attacking us."

The ghost frowned "What? Attacked?"

"What did he say?" Dipper asked.

"I think he's playing dumb. He asked who we are."

"What? No!" the ghost exclaimed. "I really don't- why can't I move?"

Mabel crossed her arms. "Tell Mr. Ghost playing dumb now isn't doing him any favors. We want answers. Ask him who he is and why he attacked us."

"He can hear you, you know." 

"Oh. Well, what did he say?"

"I asked," the ghost said indignantly, jerking this way and that, "Why am I stuck on this... this potato?"

"It's a... weird potato." Norman answered, "We'll explain after you answer their questions."

The ghost gave puzzled look, then stopped moving. "You said I attacked you, correct?"

"Yes. With boiling hot coffee."

The ghost's eyes widened. "Coffee? But... I don't... " The ghost's translucent brow furrowed. He began muttering to himself "Everything's so... fuzzy. But, coffee? I'm sure I would never..."

"You really don't remember that?" 

"No! I remember I was just floating around, then I saw this cabin. There was a girl in the window." 

"You mean Mabel?"

"Who, me?"

"Mabel, hush." said Dipper. "Let Norman do his thing."

"Yes, I believe so. It was her. She put the coffee machine on and... and then... I can't seem to remember."

Norman thought back to the vegan-geist. "Do you have something against coffee? Or maybe caffeine?"

The ghost's eyes glistened. He took off his square glasses and stared at them in his hands, looking down at his lap. "Well, um... I would say, yes. I do have a... history with coffee."

Norman sat down across from the ghost, cross-legged. The twins, unsure of what to do with themselves, sat as well. "What do you mean?"

The ghost didn't look up as he spoke, his voice taking a sorrowful tone."My wife died of a heart attack. She was only 41."

Norman's eyebrows raised. "And you think...?"

"Yes, I do. She was a heavy coffee drinker. Four or five cups a day. On top of that, she was a public relations manager of some large information company. I don't remember which. But, it meant she was always working. She left early and came home late. Mind you, she was a wonderful person and so was our marriage. But, she always had a cup of coffee with her. Morning, noom, and night. I would tell her she drank far too much. That it wasn't good for her. She claimed it got her through the day, that she couldn't live without it. Then, one day, she collapsed at work. Right in the middle of a meeting. Cardiac arrest, the doctors said. She never woke up."

"I'm... I'm sorry." 

"It was... a long time ago."

"Have you... seen her, since then?"

"Sadly, no."

"But, you know," Norman said, "that heart attack could have been anything, right?"

The ghost looked up at Norman. His face stern. "A part of me believed that. A part of me knew it was unreasonable to put all the blame on something like that. But, even so, I never looked at another cup of coffee the same way again."

"Well," Norman said. "I think we have our answer."

"Huh?" Dipper said. "Aw, what? No fair!" Norman turned around to see the two sitting cross-legged across from each other with their fists gripped together. The Pines twins had busied themselves by playing several games of thumb war. Most of which Dipper lost.

"Uh, yeah. What are guys doing?"

"Nothing. Anyway, what's his story?"

"His wife had a heart attack. He blames all the coffee he drank."

"So, the classic grudge story, huh? Well..." Dipper rose from the floor, the two others following. The ghost remained seated. "At this point, I just want him gone. Ask him if he's calmed down and will he leave us alone."

"Oh, yes, I feel much better now. I apologize for any trouble I've caused you. I clearly wasn't myself. I'm sorry"

Norman relayed the message. "Alright," Dipper said. He walked over and picked up the potato, reaching straight through the ghost. He pulled out the quill and paused.

"Hey, guys," he said, "Look at this."

Mabel and Norman joined him. In his hand, Dipper held the qhost quill, but it was strange. I glowed a deep, angry crimson, and red light swirled inside. 

"Woah..." Mabel breathed, her eyes sparkling in the light.

"It's warm," Dipper said in awe.

"That's his head, guys." Still stuck on the quill, the ghost was being held by his head, which Dipper and Mabel were staring straight into.

"Um..." 

"Oh, sorry." The twins backed up a bit. Dipper grabbed the quill with both hands and snapped it in half, releasing the ghost. It floated away. The broken quill released a tendril of red smoke that ran up to the ceiling and disappeared. The glow was gone.  

"Thank you," it said "That's much better. Now then..." The ghost drifted to the wall only to run face-first into it and stop. He touched the wall with both hands, pushing against it. 

"Why can't I...?"

Norman cocked his head, then walked over to the shop's window. He undid the latch, and opened it. 

"Try here," he said. 

"Oh, thank you." The ghost floated through the open window and was gone. 

"It's gone?" Mabel asked.

"Yup."

"Alright," Dipper said, a grin across his face. "I'd say this is a job well done. Great work, team."

"Go us!" Mabel shouted into the air with her hands cupped beside her mouth. "Whoop-whoop!"

Norman smiled weakly and sighed. What a morning...






 



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