The Stuff of Dreams

Fight to Learn

The Feng Shui community center was a lot smaller than Po thought it would be. It sat right next to the public library about three blocks from the grocery store. He had to drive this time; the bus route stopped after 6 pm. Through a white hall decorated with shiny smooth floors, student posters, and buzzing incandescent lights. A wet floor sign marked the author's classroom. Just as he was about to open the door, a man stormed out with tears burning down his face. About three other angry people followed him, all with paper and pens in their tightly clutched hands. "Okay, maybe this was a bad idea," Po muttered to himself. 

"Come in," commanded a voice from inside. Po looked inside. "Yes, you, the panda. You're here for the class, yes?" 

"Uh... uhm... Yes." Po stepped in. There at the head of the classroom stood a tall muscular snow leopard with a white open-collar dress shirt and a black vest over it. If he didn't know any better, Po would have thought he was a hard-bitten officer you see in old movies. "I-I-I'm here for the... writing class."

"Sit down," said the snow leopard. His voice was deep yet smooth and in someway controlled, like the least little thing could provoke him into anger. Po immediately sat down. "As you are probably aware, I am Tai-Lung Fu, but you will call me Mr. Tai-Lung." And there was no other option. "Now, I hope you all brought samples of your short fiction. I'll be gauging your ability by them." There were about six brave, or foolish, people in total that stayed in the class. Po put his piece in the mixture of papers. Mr. Tai-Lung took the pile and quickly combed through them. 

Po's brain failed to compute something. Tai-Lung was a lot taller and more muscular than he had seen in some of the pictures. He remembered reading somewhere that the well-known author did a lot of working out. With being an author and a business investor, a guy had to take care of himself. Mr.  Tai-Lung put the papers down. "Mr. Crane?" 

"Yes, Mr. Tai-Lung?" said a crane with a short fluff of red head-feathers. 

"You seem to have a lot of talent in your writing. You might excel more than most."

"T-Thank you, Mr. Tai-Lung. I actually-"

"Mrs. Rosa," Tai-Lung continued. Crane shrunk back into his seat. Po was sitting next to him. 

"Hey," Po whispered, "Don't worry, most people get yelled at by him."

"Yeah, I know," Crane sighed, "I'm not sure if I'm gonna survive this."

"You'll be fine."

"What about you? Do you think you'll be good enough?" Before Po could reply, the big snow leopard stood before him with his paper. 

"And Mr. Po," Tai-Lung chuckled almost evilly. 

"Oh no," Crane sighed.

"It seems you have very... good grammar and syntax, but no... real talent in ways of real writing," Tai-Lung said, returning his paper, "There is a good outlet for what you have... mainly fanfiction." The snow leopard grinned cruelly while the other students sniggered. Po's heart started crumbling on its own weight. Why? Why now when was just going to try? He felt like a mouse next to the snow leopard. Po could see Crane sighing next to him. The reality of all the panda's work to be the best crashed, and he felt like he couldn't move, couldn't breathe, couldn't see any kind of light at the end of this tunnel. 

But it all felt... familiar. His mind flashed to that night at the alley. Po stood up. The class hushed. When he stood, the panda realized that Mr. Tai-Lung was just as tall as him. Po, with his heart, destroyed yet still beating, spoke in a small shaky voice. "You're right. It is horrible. But I don't know what makes it horrible, and that's why I'm here. I write a lot, but I don't know where to improve. This is why I'm taking this class. So that I can be better. So that, even if I write fanfiction, I'll elevate what people think of it. And you are in charge of showing me how to do it," Po pointed to Mr. Tai-Lung's chest. "So my question is this: is my teacher ready to teach? Because the student is sure as heck ready to learn." 

Tai-Lung's smirk vanished. A pin could sound like a crashing cinderblock right there and then. Po could hear his crushed heart pounding in his head. Mr. Tai-Lung simply breathed. "And if I refuse to teach you?"

"Then I learn from your students. Either way, I'm not quitting. I'm here to learn," Po said. 

Silence. 

Then Tai-Lung slowly showed a small smile. "That attitude," He said, walking back to the front of the class, "is what will get you through this class. Now, sit down Mr. Po and we'll begin." Po did so. 

And he let off the biggest breath he ever had. Po felt a feathery hand on his back. "Hey, you okay?" Crane asked. 

"I think so...Did I dodge death or something?" Po whispered. 

"No, you just managed to stay in the class. How do you feel?"

"Like my heart just stopped," Po muttered, rubbing his shirt. 

"If you two will stop talking back there," Mr. Tai-Lung declared, "we may begin with our class." 

After about an hour of lecture and practice, the class was done for the night. The students filed out of the room with Crane, Po, and Mr. Tai-Lung left. "Your story was amazing, Crane," Po said as he packed his things. "Where did you get your inspiration?" 

"Oh, that was some prompt I did when I was 10. It just never left me," Crane replied. 

"Wow, you're a writing prodigy." 

"Hehe, I wish I wasn't sometimes."

"Why not?"

"There's nothing to really learn when everything you do is perfect," Crane whispered to him. "Thankfully I'm not an arrogant know-it-all. That's why I'm taking this class. I figured that Mr. Tight-Spots might find something wrong." Po chuckled quietly.

"I would appreciate it," Tai-Lung butted in from the whiteboard in the front, "that you two would not cause such a ruckus during my classes."

"Yes, Mr. Tai-Lung," Po and Crane said in unison. 

"Thank you. And don't worry, Mr. Crane. Mr. Tight-Spots will give you a list of things to improve on," The snow leopard grinned. Crane shrunk his way out of the room. "Mr. Po, a word." The panda gulped as he walked to the front. Tai-Lung wordlessly gave Po a fresh black journal. The panda rose his eyebrow. "You'll need to take notes."

"But I have my own note-"

"I mean for your stories. One of the problems you have is a classic fanfiction tic."

"Which is?" 

"You don't write reality." Po tilted his head. "Note how people actually talk, how they act, everything that you think will be interesting or mundane. Take a look at the real world around you and create your fantasy in the reality. The first thing you have to do is get out of your dream world," Tai-Lung said, pointing to Po's head, "And try to explain it using the real world." 

"Oh, thank you, Mr. Tai-Lung," Po walked to the door but stopped. "Mr. Tai-Lung, why me?"

"Hm?"

"Why didn't you refuse to teach me?" 

"I don't refuse anyone," Tai-Lung replied. Po narrowed his eyes as his head jerked back. The snow leopard took a deep breath. "People often disqualify themselves. They're usually too attached to their ability as a writer to learn." He folded his hands behind his back. "And I can't teach someone who thinks they know everything. Those people that left the class earlier? They got upset that I said that they would never be able to get published writing the way that they did." Tai-Lung shrugged. "I guess they didn't think they could change the way they wrote." 

"But... isn't style important for a writer?" Po asked. 

"Yes, your own," Tai-Lung sighed. His voice gurgled a bit like some woeful growl. "I could see those three were desperately trying to write like me. And I hate looking at copycats."

"OOOh," Po stuttered. Tai-Lung packed his things into his double lock briefcase and walked out the door. 

"Goodnight, Mr. Po."

"G-Goodnight, Mr. Tai-Lung," Po waved at the snow leopard. Tai-Lung didn't turn around. The panda looked at the dark classroom and smiled. "Oh! I have an idea." And Po began writing in the black journal.

To Be Continued...