The Stuff of Dreams

Nightmares are Real, Too

"I'm telling you, Monkey. She was beautiful! Something out of a dream," Po exclaimed. Monkey pushed the last can into place, stood up, and dusted his apron. "She was amazing."

"And Boqin prevented you from talking with her?"

"Well, he was just shouting at me for not listening. You know how he is," Po grumbled. 

"Well, why don't you just talk to her when she comes in next?" Monkey asked. 

"And when is that?" Monkey shrugged. "I don't know. She looked like the business type. I don't think she would really look into a tubby grocery worker."

"I don't know what to tell you, Po. All I can say is you never know until you try." 

"Yeah well, I don't think I can really afford a date right now," Po said, rubbing the back of his neck. By the end of the day, Po clocked out, waved Monkey goodbye, and walked down the cold sidewalk to the bus stop. He hugged his black jacket tightly around his body, shivering as the biting wind licked his neck. He finally got to the bus stop where the vehicle was just pulling in. "Hey Nick," Po said to the bus driver.

"Hey, Po. You got your money?" 

"Right here, I-" Po reached into his pocket, patted all the parts of his coat, but couldn't find the cash. "Where did I-" His mind went to the counter. He could see the money right there, laughing at him for forgetting it. Po grumbled under his breath. "Dang it. And I don't have enough money on the card." 

"It's okay. I'll let this slide," said the driver

"No, it's okay. I don't want you to get in trouble. I'll just walk," Po smiled. 

Nick the driver frowned, "Are you sure? It's a long walk and you have to go through Old Italy."

"It's okay. I'll manage." Nick nodded, slowly closing the door. He stared at Po and then set the bus in motion. Po sighed and started walking. 

Old Italy is a condensed part of the inner city that ran right underneath the hanging subway line that transferred people from Feng Shui to the tourist side of the city by the sea called East Harbor. Po could have taken the subway, but the distance from East Harbor to his house was three times the length of just crossing Old Italy. Old Italy used to be an Italian immigrant borough–hence the name Italy–but many of these people moved to the better parts of the city, which was usually on the outer edges. Now, Old Italy was filled with shabby streets, dark alleys, and people with smiling faces that hid daggers. It was only five blocks. If Po could get to the edge of Feng Shui, cross the five blocks with the speed of a gazelle and get to the other side of his borough in Midtown, then he would be fine. 

The sun grew cold and dark as he edged Feng Shui. The streets grew from two-lane to one lane. A steam of unknown stench flew into the air from the manholes as cars lined narrow streets, either parked or moving. Po shoved his hands into his coat pockets. People around him seemed to do the same. Groups of cursing men hung around the corners and alleys, glaring at him if he just glanced back by accident. That was Block one. 

The next block was a quick-paced block, where people ran as fast as they could get to the subway that flew over their heads. Guys in tight groups, shouting and barking at each other, caused Po's shoulders to tighten. Bang! Po didn't flinch and walked faster. It was better not to question certain things.

Block three. The... special district. "Hey, cutie," said a woman standing next to a group. "You look tired. Wanna take a nap with me?" Po didn't answer. "Alright then, be that way." Po walked on past the motels and neon lights of gentlemen clubs. The smoke of cigarettes filled the air. The panda pressed on.