Sands Katsion (~CRK)
The City of Dreams
Shortly after I moved to Wonder Prairie, I discovered a native penguin who was separated from her pride. It was unusual to see one of the penguins outside of water, and I took that as the first warning sign. As I got closer, I realized she was struggling along with a broken foot and injured wing. The little penguin gritted her proverbial teeth, clutching her wounded flipper, and limped through the grass, determined to catch up with her family who had left her to fend for herself. Your family abandoned you, too, huh? I muttered, circling my arms around the determined ball of feathers. Even as I cradled her in my young arms, the penguin trashed about, trying to break free and fend for herself. I can fix it, I said. I’m studying to be a veterinarian. I clenched the screeching penguin the whole way to my shack, planning on how I would treat her once I got there. Patching her up was a ruthless battle, but she calmed down once the pain began to subside from her broken limbs. See? I’m here to protect you. I’ll help you fight. I know how it is because I fight all the time, too! The penguin’s eyes closed softly, and she finally rested. Once healed, Guinnie stayed at my side as a loyal companion, handing me nails while I built my shack and magically creating water with me to cool us both off from the hot sun and hard work. In a way, I always saw her as another me. Someone I had to protect. Just like…
…
The world gradually materialized around me from sparkles of color and glimmers of texture. I had rolled onto my back and was facing the vacuous sky. The grass was soft against my head, but the ground was digging into my back. Sitting up, I rubbed my head, the throbbing pain immediately standing as a reminder.
“Oh, right. That ninja guy. I must have passed out,” I commented to myself.
As I crawled to my feet, I pushed back in my mind to find the remnant of something important I thought he told me. My head pulsed with pain, feeling as though it now held a reservoir of information that I couldn’t access, making me feel detached from myself. I knew whatever was there was important, but I couldn’t access the memories no matter how hard I tried; the struggle only increased my migraine.
Taking a deep breath, I relaxed myself, “It’s not important. Don’t get so worked up over it,” I had to remind myself. But that didn’t erase my persistence in wanting to discover it. The advice just prompted me to survey my environment. The hill was right in front of me. I had never reached the hill before, as it signified the end of the prairie and the outskirts of town—whatever nearby town that is. I knew there was a road beyond the hill, and although there are only a dozen or so cars in I*V, I knew I couldn’t defeat them if I ran across them.
The pain in my head was becoming unbearable, making the world spin around me. I nearly fell over as I stepped toward the knoll. I took a deep breath, stopping myself from trying to pry into my locked mind. Focusing on the crisp breeze and the nearby bidsong helped my head to clear.
I finally found the energy to climb the steep hill so that I could get a bird’s-eye view of my location. From atop the hill, the horizon unfolded. The sun shone down at me from above my head, reigning over the afternoon. The shortgrass prairie was lively as ever with a myriad birds fluttering around and getting some lunch from the plants. Amid everything lay my humble abode, but a speck among the fields of emerald. I was so far from home! I had a simple choice: venture further to explore or return home to face the wrath of Guinnie and her criticism. The choice was obvious.
I sighed and clutched my head. For a second, I thought I heard someone say among the buzzing of my mind to turn around. The sun stung my eyes, and I took in the view from the other side. Tall buildings shimmered from the afternoon sun, and they called to me from the distance. No haze covered their silhouettes; the buildings were perfectly formed and poised as a painting. That was the city.
I wracked my brain. “What is it about the city again? What’s it called?” I pried my hands from my head and just soaked up the blue sky and the cool breeze. “I*V City,” I told myself. “That’s what it was. I’ve always wanted to visit there, but I never had the chance. I’d been dreaming about it for so long.”
As the picturesque city called to me from the horizon, I steeled myself and announced that I would go. There was a freshly-paved road that went into the city, and I took it on foot. A few kids on skateboards passed me as I walked along and dreamed about what I would find in the illustrious I*V City.
Once I reached the city, the iron gates parted, and I was surrounded by buildings as tall as mountains. The streets were bare and lined with plush grass and potted plants. Kids and adults alike roamed from building to building, taking in all the sights and going about their own routines. Birds twittered from atop the trees or from inside nooks and crannies within stone buildings’ structures. Roads led in straight paths in all directions, and I unknowingly stood at its epicenter beside the gate. Then it hit me: I’m finally in I*V City. It’s time.
I wandered through the main street, my body spinning around with my eyes. I passed a school playground with kids shouting and jumping around on the metal structures. A couple passed me by as they were walking a dog. Everything felt peaceful and close; even though I*V City was bustling with life and structured rigidly with endless four-story buildings, businesses, and homes on either side… it felt like a small town where everyone knew each other. The stone buildings with windows decorated with flowers all melded into each other but were made distinct with little signs out front. One of the buildings was giving off an amazing smell of freshly-baked bread. My tummy rumbled, and my body started to grow faint.
“Oh, right. It’s already afternoon. I forgot about lunch!”
I headed into the café before I could process my body’s movements. My stomach was drawn in by the delicious smell. The front door chimed as I entered. The café was cozy and decorated with antique advertisements. The black and white tile floor reminded me of an old ice cream parlor, and the light blue walls gave the whole place a comforting atmosphere.
I lingered on the image of the tile floor as I waited in line. Why does that sound familiar? Didn’t there used to be an ice cream parlor in town? My forehead burned as I wracked my brain, realizing I couldn’t have known, anyway, since I’d never been in I*V City. Maybe I’m just thinking of something else.
“What would you like?” The waitress at the cash register materialized in front of me, and it took me a few seconds to come up with an answer to her question.
“Do you have soup and sandwich?” I asked.
“We certainly do! Our menu offers a wide variety of sandwiches.” She motioned toward the chalkboard menus beside the counter.
I hesitated for a second, just gravitating towards my usual staple. “Peanut butter sandwich with vegetable soup.”
“We don’t offer plain peanut butter sandwiches anymore.”
I froze in shock. But that’s what I always get! The world seemed to spin around me as I tried to cement myself in place. “Can… Can I make my own?”
The waitress put a hand to her chin and contemplated. “We still have peanut butter to make cookies. I can give you that and some bread.”
“OK.” I felt a bit ashamed as I paid for my lunch, but I knew I couldn’t go much longer without eating.
I took my tray to one of the round wooden tables and prepared my sandwich. My head was still pulsing from the encounter with the ninja, and my whole body was tingling and detaching from itself from hunger. I sighed to push the nerves away. It felt nice to have a chance to relax and sit for lunch, as the whole day seemed to blur past me behind my back. I still had a fuzzy recollection of where I was in space and time, and I couldn’t shake the feeling there was something extremely important I had just forgotten. But every time I tried to remember, I would see a fuzzy image of a silhouette similar to mine flash before my eyes. Royal blue hair. I ignored the buzzing in my head and took a giant bite of the sandwich; the peanut butter stuck in my mouth like glue.
Somehow, it tastes off, I commented to myself.
I chased down the uncomfortable, uncanny taste with the steamy vegetable soup, which chased all the cold feelings out of me. There was nothing I loved more than fresh vegetable soup loaded with peas, corn, zucchini, spinach, three kinds of beans…
Wait a minute. I flinched, once again feeling like something was terrifyingly unusual. I spooned through the soup, categorizing all the veggies into piles. There’s no kidney beans!
I could hardly take it anymore. My head spun wildly, and everything broke apart around me. I went in for a normal lunch, and nothing was as I had remembered it—or how I felt I had remembered something I had clearly experienced before. At the same time, I felt like my life had just begun the moment I woke in the prairie with a massive headache, and the rest of my time on I*V before then was severed violently from me.
I must have looked clearly distressed or confused, because the two teens at the table next to mine looked at me in concern. I composed myself and sat down again, finishing my meal as quickly as I could before any more thoughts could interrupt it.
Leaving the café, I sighed to myself. Though my stomach was full, I still felt empty and lacking somehow. As I wandered to the street, a giant shadow consumed me. My eyes stopped on two stone skyscrapers that were connected to each other by a bridge. One said “USG Building” at the top, and the other said “Sham Creations.”
“USG building?” I wondered, “Since when is there a building for USG super powers?”
“Why, there’s always been one!” A man enthusiastically answered.
Surprised, I turned to find the mysterious voice that answered my rhetorical question, which, assumingly, I had asked aloud accidentally. I tend to talk to myself a lot without ever being aware that I am. The mystery man in question was short and dressed in navy blue clothes with a gold I*V City insignia on the chest pocket. I guessed he was the gatekeeper, who obviously was absent when I passed by the gate earlier. I didn’t know why, but his face and build looked oddly familiar.
“There…has?” I didn’t know what else to say.
“Pardon, but you must be new here, aren’t you?” He gave me the once-over.
“Just got here.”
Looking down, he put his fingers to his forehead, “OK…You need to see the Leader of I*V at his house. He’ll be able to help you.” Strangely, he seemed nervous.
“Help me with what?” I returned, a bit confused.
“Getting accustomed to City life!” he stammered. “The Leader loves to get visitors!”
But, being the gatekeeper, wouldn’t he know about city life? “OK…Where’s that?” I figured I was being led somewhere ever since I left the house, so I figured, why not go see the Leader? Maybe he could explain all this random ninja business.
“Just down the road there; you can’t miss it!” He pointed toward a fork in the road I had come from. The extension led to houses coalesced into a kind of quiet suburb.
“Apparently you can’t miss a lot of things here…” I muttered before responding, “OK, thanks.”
He stopped me as I turned. “Wait.”
I almost yelled “What now?!” Instead, I shut myself up.
“Listen to me closely…” he whispered to me in a gentle but serious tone. He locked his brown eyes straight into mine. “The Leader’s name is Mr. Bird. Now, Mr. Bird has three children: two daughters and one son. One of the children is trouble and should be avoided. But the other two—be friends with them. They’ll help you on your journey.”
Confusion took its reign over me yet again.
“Also, if anything strange has happened to you lately, be sure to let him know. He knows a lot about strange things.”
“Strange things?” I repeated. What is he—psychic? I reflected, stunned.
“Yes, that’s it.”
I was so lost in the conversation; it was like he was actually there when it all happened to me. After an awkward moment of my thinking what to say, I simply smiled nervously, waved, and walked away. What else was I supposed to do?
The straightaway road would have stretched into the horizon if it were not for the cul-de-sac at the end. Contrary to my energetic personality, I decided to walk leisurely to allow my thoughts to gather. So many odd things had happened to me that day. And now I was going to see the Leader, Mr. Bird. At that point, it felt like the path I was walking was taking me itself rather than my feet commanding my steps. It was like I was following a quest in a video game or stuck on a moving sidewalk. But now that the suburb had me in its tranquil atmosphere, I focused on the compassionate twittering of the birds.
Say, I wonder if Mr. Bird is really a bird? I thought then immediately chuckled at my joke. No way. He can’t be. That’d be too weird.
All the while I was thinking, I lazily strolled past a simplistic hotel that looked like nothing more than a regular, old house that had a sign in front of it. Four elderly women stared from inside four open windows. Once they spotted me, they whispered amongst each other, then muttered, then yelled.
“Hey, you!” the elder from the middle window yelled.
Biting back my anger, I whimpered, “Yes…?”
“Ain’t you a newcomer?” one of them asked.
“A newcomer…? Well, I suppose. I just got here, like, five minutes ago.”
“Ah! Very new!” the bottom one exclaimed.
“I knew it! They all have that same look,” The top one chimed in.
“Um…” I backed away slowly, anticipating their actions.
“Ready…” began the one in the middle; she was probably the leader of the four.
“What’s going on…?” I whined.
“Fire!!” they all screamed as vases flew from their windows.
“Ahhh!” I yelled, running as fast as I could down the road toward the Leader’s house, trying to dodge the armies of vases flying towards me. “What’s so bad about newcomers?!”
In a moment, my presence was belittled by an elegant Victorian home, whose magnificent structure commanded center stage among the other, smaller houses lining the corridor preceding the cul-de-sac. The house was like a masterpiece ballet: its structure made of sturdy wood like the string instruments and lavishly decorated by gingerbread work and carvings reminiscent of percussion & winds. With its commanding presence made obvious like the brass section, it was truly a home to behold. On the inside, the home held a story—one of struggle and tragedy, though it was portrayed in a Romantic, beautiful way that eluded me then.
My fantasy in jest was all for naught. I declared, “Well, he’s certainly not a bird!”