A Tale of Two Dead Ringers - Chapter 1
Title: Chapter 1 - It's a Wonderful Life!
Author: Mario Andre Pacheco
Spoilers: Pushing Daisies 2x10, Wonderfalls 1x13
Word count: 2,522
Chapter count: Aproximately 20 chapters
Previous chapters: Prologue
Observations
- A Pushing Daisies/Wonderfalls Halloween crossover with darker supernatural overtones.
- A tale exploring the uncanny resemblance between a certain pie maker, and a certain young man from Niagara Falls named Aaron Tyler.
- You don’t need to have seen Wonderfalls to understand the story, but it helps in order to enjoy my story fully.
Summary
One year after the events in Girth it’s Halloween again and Ned the Pie Maker is about to embark in his strangest case ever.
Motivated by the unsettling discovery of a dead ringer, and with the help of a very suspicious man, the Pie Maker has to solve a mystery before it’s too late. But he has to do it out of his natural environment, since he he has to go to a certain town, magic in its own way, named Niagara Falls.
Previously on "A Tale of Two Dead Ringers"
On his second year at Longborough School for boys, it was Halloween again. Young Ned is mistaken for his friend Eugene by the Mulchandani family. He briefly enjoys the love and atttention, but when the parents discover the truth, Young Ned is scolded for being an impostor. He learns a valuable lesson: don't pretend to be who you are not.
I
It's A Wonderful Life!
(October 29th, early morning - Papen County)
“It’s been 1 year, 26 weeks, 4 days, 21 hours, 17 minutes since Ned brought his childhood sweetheart back to life. He has become the Pie Maker, a man in love with his childhood sweetheart brought back to life, and right now nothing would make him wish to trade places with anyone else in the world. Because, finally, the Pie Maker’s life is just... perfect.”
Ned enjoyed the slumber, that peaceful transition between sleep and wakefulness, feeling each sense and each muscle come to life. He breathed deeply and, as he grew more aware of his surroundings, and even before he opened his eyes, he realized he was still holding Chuck close to him.
Ned used a few seconds to take stock of his situation and came to the realization his life was perfect the way it was. He hadn’t heard of Charles Charles, or any other ghost from Christmas past for that matter, for weeks. It seemed Chuck’s father, who had been missing since he absconded with Ned’s car, was really gone for good this time, and his secret was safe. And the police had even recovered his car so, apart from a few dents and scratches to his vehicle, and his emotional life, things were back the way they should always have been.
It’s true he couldn’t touch her skin directly, lest she would be killed again, this time forever, and for most people that would be a deal breaker. But he had one of his contraptions, a rubbery film that divided his and Chuck’s side of the bed, as well as an arm glove attached to it that enabled him to embrace her the way he was doing right then. The previous model was made of plastic and it felt clumsy, noisy and sweaty. This new material, however, felt almost like touching her skin.
Most people perhaps couldn’t imagine a relationship without direct skin touch, but they didn’t know what Ned knew. He could feel her body through the rubbery film. He could feel the temperature of her body. He could hear and feel the rhythm of her her heart beat. Thump-thump... Thump-thump... Thump-thump... He cherished every little sound she made.
She was right there next to him, and she was ALIVE. Just the thought that the love of his life was alive, when by all laws of nature, she should be dead, made everything else pale in comparison. And Ned knew very well the difference between a person full of life and joy, and a lifeless corpse. Chuck was a part of his world, and his world was a much better place because of that.
Ned quietly got up, and kept watching her sleep. If she wanted to sleep a little longer, she should enjoy that.
He put on his dark suit, his favorite one, because he wanted his looks to match his mood, so he should look his best. He put on his watch, and then when he checked the time he saw what day it was, the 29th. October 29th...
A chill went down his spine: in two days it would be Halloween. Oh, great. He would have to start taking care of Halloween decorations pretty soon. He knew he wouldn’t be able to talk Chuck out of celebrating the occasion. He would have to go through that ordeal whether he liked it or not. But then he considered things in perspective, and decided it would be infinitely worse to enjoy a life with no Halloween... and nobody to share that absence with. Besides, he didn’t have to worry about that right that minute. Decorations could wait until tomorrow.
Ned had stayed up until late preparing the pies to be served that morning, so now all they had to do was to put them in the oven and serve them. He went downstairs to the Pie Hole, and saw Olive making sure everything was in order to wait on the patrons that soon would be arriving.
“Good morning, Olive,” said Ned, smiling.
“Morning, Ned. Oh my, you sound like you’re in a very good mood today,” she replied in her usual chirpy fashion.
“And why wouldn’t I be?” he commented serenely.
“Ned was aware of the fact Olive had a thing for him, but the worst had passed, and he believed she had realized their friendship meant a great deal, and that was how things should be. Ned worried about his friend Olive, because only if she was content, would he be able to fully enjoy his perfect life.”
Ned made sure he greeted every new customer with a smile and his gentleman’s manners, and time went fast as each customer was served.
About half an hour later, Chuck arrived, fully rested, her usual and adorable self. Sometimes she took a little too long to get dressed, but that was a little price to pay for her elegance and grace, something Ned appreciated a great deal.
“Good morning,” she said smiling.
“Good morning,” he smiled back. It was amazing how much could be said with such simple words that, for most people, were a mere tool of social politeness.
The little bell on top of the front door chimed a little more loudly than usual, and that broke the magic of the moment. It was Emerson Cod, P.I., Ned’s business partner.
“Emerson, a big man, was never delicate when opening and closing doors, so Ned had grown used to his energetic manners. Even though that particular morning he seemed a tad more energetic than usual.”
“Hiya, Emerson,” chirped Olive. “I have a piece of rhubarb pie with your name on it. I’ll get it right a way! Just make yourself comfortable.”
Emerson huffed, then forced a grin.
“Thank you, Olive, but no, thanks. No time for pie today.”
Perhaps in Emerson’s mind that was explanation enough, but the moment he said “no pie today,” Ned, Olive and Chuck stopped doing what they were doing and looked at him, intrigued. That harsh decision could not go without some explanation.
“But Emerson, you always...” protested Olive.
“Are you still here?” Emerson, still standing, inquired. “I believe that lady over there needs someone to wait on her,” he added, pointing at a lady who was waving at Olive who, even showing signs of perplexity, went to see what the customer wanted because the customer is always right.
Ned approached Emerson.
“What’s the rush, Emerson? I’ve never seen you turn down my pies before. Perhaps you might like to discuss business over a delicious slice of triple berry?”
“Listen, pie boy,” he came very close to Ned and spoke softly. “Under normal circumstances I would never pass your pie, even though I should,” he said, patting his own stomach. “But this is a real emergency. I need you to come to the morgue right now. There’s someone special you need to meet.”
Ned understood the message right immediately. He turned on his heel and said to Olive,
“I’m going to be away for a while. Can you handle things here, Olive?”
Ned smiled, and gave Chuck his usual inviting look. Chuck giggled, and came to the front of the counter.
“And I’m ready too, boys!”
Emerson took a deep breath. Ned believed that mentally, he was counting till ten.
“Listen, Ned. Normally, I would be delighted,” (and by delighted Ned knew Emerson meant “I’d have no choice”) “to have Mrs. Pie Maker with us, but these are very exceptional circumstances,” he emphasized the word exceptional. “If you ever took me seriously, this is the time to trust me. You must come alone.”
Ned looked into Emerson’s eyes and realized something was different. And Emerson had never called Chuck Mrs. Pie Maker before, so that had to be serious.
Ned turned and eyed Chuck, who smiled like a child who had been promised an expensive toy for her birthday, while Ned felt like the parent who had promised said toy, but realized he couldn’t afford it. Ned forced a smile and put his hands in his pockets.
“Emerson wants me to go alone, Chuck... Is that OK with you?”
“Ned, you don’t mean... Well, it’s OK then.” Her expression faded, like part of her usual joy was not there anymore. Obviously ‘it was ok’ meant exactly the opposite. Mortified, and against his automatic impulse to please Chuck, Ned spilled,
“OK, then... That’s settled. You keep Olive company this time.”
He turned on his heel so quickly he wouldn’t dare look into her eyes and see her reaction. But he couldn’t help hear Chuck’s disappointment as she went, “oooohhhh.”
“Let’s go, Emerson, before I change my mind,” said Ned, patting his partner on his shoulder. They made a fast stride towards the exit, but not fast enough that he wouldn’t hear Olive’s comment to Chuck, which broke his heart.
“Now you know what it’s like to be outside the loop, Chuck.”
Emerson was driving a little faster than usual. And Ned, with his arms crossed in a defensive manner, was a little more pensive than normal. It was like that until he spoke.
“Emerson, if this was a silly trick to keep Chuck out of our investigations, you’re gonna see me angry. I don’t usually get angry, and it even takes me great effort to be angry. But I’ll make an exception this time.”
Emerson starts laughing, “ho, ho, ho, ho,” like a black Santa in October. Perhaps Ned still had trouble to convince Emerson he didn’t have to be mild-mannered all the time, and he could be mean too. But deep inside, even Ned doubted he could get as angry as he threatened to be.
“Oh, but you won’t regret it, pie boy. You won’t. I just want to see your face when you see what I have to show you.”
“You said you wanted me to meet someone?”
“I’m not saying another word! If I tell you, you won’t believe me anyway. It’s like when I learned of your powers. Seeing, and only seeing, is believing.”
“Just tell me one thing, Emerson. Does it involve a dead body?”
“That much I can tell you: yes! The rest you’ll have to wait for.”
Having said that, Emerson refused to say anything else, no matter how hard Ned tried to get him to speak.
But Ned didn’t have to wait long. A few minutes later, they arrived at the morgue, with its usual candy-colored front. That place was practically becoming a second home for Emerson and his investigative gang.
“We’re here to see the stiff,” Emerson declared.
As usual, they were greeted by the coroner in his customary monosyllabic way. Instead of offering his hand for a handshake, he showed his hand with its palm up, which, in their private sign language just mean, ‘place rent here.’
Emerson produced a little stack of bills and placed them in the coroner’s hand.
“Hmmmmm, mmmmm,” was the coroner’s reply. Emerson started to walk towards the room where the body was.
“Wait a minute, Cod. Who’s he?” asked the coroner about Ned, even though they had already met dozens of times.
“I’m...” tried Ned.
“...the dead man’s brother,” completed Emerson.
“Yes, I’m the dead man’s... brother?” said Ned to Emerson in an incredulous tone. Emerson elbowed Ned on his ribcage.
“I fail to see the resemblance,” said the coroner.
“It’s because I’m adopted,” Ned lied.
“Hmmmmm, mmmmm,” was the coroner’s final response. They passed to the next room.
* * *
Emerson and Ned found themselves staring at a body in a closed body bag. For some reason Emerson knew, and Ned instinctively felt, none of them wanted to do the honors.
Instead of doing the obvious thing, which was open the bag, Ned chose to ask for clarification.
“Emerson, what is that all about? His brother? Do you feel the need to become more and more creative just to fool that poor, old man?”
“Something I learned in art school: show, don’t tell. Open the bag, Ned,” Emerson replied curtly.
Ned then started looking for the zipper pull tab.
“You might head back a little then, Emerson. I know how disturbing this can be for you.”
“And you.”
“Oh, no, Emerson. As you know well...” said Ned, pulling the slider, while the victim’s brown hair began to show. “... I have a very high threshold for this kind of thing, and practically nothing surprises me anym...”
Ned interrupted his speech in mid sentence. His face became livid, and he froze right there as he looked into the victim’s eyes. It didn’t help that the dead man’s eyes were creepily wide open.
Ned simply froze. Emerson started to get concerned, and pulled Ned’s arm back.
“I’d like you to meet, the one I call Dead Ned... Are you all right, my friend?” said Emerson, showing genuine concern. “Perhaps I should’ve prepared you for this moment.”
“I’m... I’m fine, Emerson. But of all people, I never expected to find... myself...”
That’s right. Right there, Emerson Cod, P.I., and Ned, full-time Pie Maker and part-time P.I., were facing the strangest victim they’d ever seen. For some twist of fate, Ned was looking at his spitting image.
Ned needed several seconds to pull himself together.
“Emerson, this is disturbing in so many levels.”
“So, now you understand why you had to see this alone?”
“You are right. I don’t know how she would react. My god, I don’t know how *I* am supposed to react,” said Ned. “Who do you think he is?”
“He was found on a bus from out of town without documents. He just had a package. Do you think maybe your philandering father... You know, maybe there are little Neds all over Papen County?”
“Honestly, at this juncture, anything is possible. But besides an eerie chill in my spine, I don’t feel we are related. I can’t explain it. I just feel it.”
“There’s just one way to figure that out. Ready to do your magic, pie boy?”
“No...”
The Pie Maker brought his hand close to his dead ringer’s chin, but wouldn’t will it to move any further. He pulled his arm back.
“What now?” asked Emerson.
“What if he even sounds like me? What if...?”
“Please! Let’s put an end to this!”
Ned took a deep breath, and touched the man’s forehead with the tip of his finger. And a surprising thing happened... Nothing! Nothing at all.
Emerson grabbed Ned’s hand, and made it touch the man’s cheek. Nothing. Nervously, Ned touched the man’s face, this time with his full palm. Still nothing.
“Emerson, what is going on?” asked Ned, visibly disturbed, practically in panic.
“Oh, hell, no...” whispered Emerson.