Piper's Perfect Dream

by Ahmet Zappa

  Piper’s eyes opened wide. The previous day, all she had done was fill some sugar dispensers, and that hadn’t gone well at all. Could she possibly be a waitress? And keep all the orders straight?

  Piper breathed deeply. Of course she could. She just had to stay calm and focused. Besides, how could she say no? Big Rosie’s Diner needed her help!

  “Sure,” Piper said gamely. “Where do I start?”

  Alice beamed. “Diane will show you the ropes.”

  Now there were ropes involved. Waiting tables sounded complicated already.

  “This is Diane,” Alice went on as a woman walked by holding a tray of dirty glasses. Diane paused but didn’t smile.

  “Don’t worry. Diane’s just a little grouchy this morning. She’ll warm up to you.” Alice nudged Piper toward the kitchen. “Go on. Follow her. She’ll show you what to do.”

  In the kitchen, Diane eyed Piper’s outfit: loose bright green drawstring pants that swept the floor, a flowery top with long bell sleeves, and delicate-looking sandals. All suitable for lounging, but not really for waitressing. “Do you have anything else to wear?” she asked.

  Piper looked at Diane. She wore a knee-length black skirt, a button-down white shirt, and sensible black lace-up shoes.

  “Be right back,” Piper said. She ducked into the bathroom, accessed her Wishworld Outfit Selector, and emerged wearing ankle-length black pants and a neat white shirt, with just one small flower on the front pocket. Her black shoes looked just like Diane’s.

  Diane nodded at the outfit then spent the next half hour explaining how to set tables and write up orders on the pad, when to pick up food, and, it seemed to Piper, about a moonium other things.

  For once, Piper didn’t interrupt. She just listened intently. She was excited to write on paper with a writing utensil.

  Diane checked the clock. “It’s time for the morning rush,” she said, “so get ready.” Then she disappeared into the back just as the doorbells jingled. A mom carrying a baby walked in, followed a few starmins later by an elderly man. Alice led them to their tables. But then other customers were coming in, too.

  Piper took a deep breath and glanced in the mirror. “Dreams can come true,” she said. “It’s your time to shine!”

  She could do this.

  Smiling steadily, Piper walked to the older man. He had silvery hair that circled his head, with a large bald spot right in the center, and a big bushy mustache that matched.

  Piper placed a glass of water on the table. Then she flipped open her pad and stood poised, pen in hand, to take his order. “What would you like, sir?” she asked in a pleasant voice.

  “What?” he said, clearly surprised. “Don’t you know?”

  “Ummm…” Piper hedged. Was she supposed to read customers’ minds, too? She tried, concentrating her energy on his thoughts. And while she picked up that he was feeling impatient and a little put out, she couldn’t for the starlife of her figure out what he wanted to eat.

  “I have the same thing every morning,” the man said. “Haven’t you—”

  “Waited on you before?” Piper shook her head. “No, I’m new.”

  “Okay, here’s what I get. Three egg whites scrambled, omelet-style, a whole-wheat bagel with the center scooped out, an extra plate to put the bagel on, no home fries, and two low-fat cream cheeses.”

  Piper wrote furiously to take it all down.

  “And a cup of—”

  “Zing?” Piper asked.

  “No, coffee,” he replied. “What in the world is Zing?”

  Oops, thought Piper. There I go again.

  “Let me handle Lou,” Diane said on her way to the kitchen. “He can get a little grumpy if you don’t get everything exactly right.”

  “No, no,” Piper insisted. The diner was filling up. Other people were taking seats. And Piper wanted to prove herself. “I want to do this,” she told Diane. Then she paused. “Just tell me what a bagel is.”

  Time passed in a haze. After an hour, Piper found an elastic band and loosely tied back her hair so it wouldn’t get in the way. After another hour, she retied it in a high, severe ponytail.

  No doubt about it, waitressing was hard work—always hurrying from customer to customer, from kitchen to table. But it wasn’t only physical. It took mental energy, too.

  At one point, Piper was turning the corner carrying a tray of dirty dishes back to the kitchen. She heard Diane say, “Corner.” Piper had no idea what that meant until Diane flew around the corner and the two bumped. They were both carrying loaded trays, and plates crashed to the floor, shattering into little pieces. Now the floor had to be cleaned and Diane’s food prepared again.

  “Next time I yell ‘corner,’” Diane said through gritted teeth, “stop if you’re nearby. It means I’m coming around it.”

  Another time, Pete shouted from the kitchen, “Burgers, eighty-six!” So Piper helpfully, or so she thought, began to carefully count eighty-six plates for the eighty-six burgers. But Pete had only frowned when she brought them over. “That means we’re out of burgers,” he explained in a tense voice. A little while later, he called out that the lunch special was “on the fly.” Piper ducked to avoid the flying chicken potpie. Only later did she learn that on the fly meant Pete was cooking something quickly.

  Each of those times, Piper had almost lost control. She’d felt tears slip out of her eyes, a burning sensation in her cheeks, and a knot forming in her stomach. But then she had retreated to a quiet spot in the back and visualized herself floating carefree in Luminous Lake. Moments later, she’d been ready for more customers.

  By the time lunch was in full swing, Piper didn’t feel frazzled at all. She glided around the diner, quickly but smoothly, pausing to take deep breaths every once in a while but managing to stay unruffled. If only the Star Darlings could see her now, she thought—especially practical Vega, who always had everything under control. Dreamy, absentminded Piper was holding down a complicated Wishling job!

  Piper considered it a minor victory when Lou came back for lunch and asked for her specifically. Maybe it was because she smiled at him. She smiled at everyone. But not every customer smiled back. In a job like this, she realized, you saw the best and worst of Wishlings.

  “Busy day,” Diane said to Piper when there was a lull in customer traffic. Diane had definitely warmed up to her. She lowered her voice to add, “And that’s unusual lately. You know….” She nodded across the street, to a restaurant with a big yellow-and-black BB on its sign. “‘Your local Busy Bee,’” Piper read from the sign, “‘the buzz-iest place in town. Five billion served.’”

  “Ever since that fast food place opened,” Diane continued, “business has been slower than usual.”

  Piper understood the slow business part. But fast food? She pictured hamburgers and French fries with little legs, racing around a restaurant.

  “Lots of customers have started eating across the street.” Diane shook her head. “The prices may be cheaper, but you can’t compare the quality. This right here”—she tapped the counter—“is real home cooking. Just like—”

  “Bot-Bot cooks used to make,” Piper finished.

  “Huh?” said Diane. “I was going to say ‘Mom.’ Like my mom used to make.”

  “Of course,” Piper agreed. “That’s what I call my mom. Bot-Bot. It’s from when I was a baby.” Of course, mom and Bot-Bot sounded nothing at all alike. But it was the best Piper could do. “I have no idea why.”

  Diane shrugged at the explanation. “Alice and Pete will never admit it. But they’re feeling stressed about the business.”

  Piper’s heart thumped at the word stressed. Aha, she thought. If Alice and Pete are stressed about customers, then Olivia must be, too. That was the problem.

  I’ve identified the wish! she thought. She didn’t feel any energy, but she knew not all Starlings did. Well, hopefully she had identified it. Piper knew not to count her stars just yet. Fifty percent of wishes were misidentified, after all.r />
  Still, Olivia’s wish seemed clear enough: she wanted the diner to have more customers! If the diner did more business, Olivia would feel better and her bad dreams would end.

  “Waitress!” someone called out to Piper, interrupting her thoughts. Piper had seen Diane flinch when a customer called her “waitress,” though most knew her by name. Greenfield was a small town, after all. But being called “waitress” made Piper feel proud. She looked out the diner window to see a dad lifting his son out of the backseat of a car. He slammed the door shut and the two walked into the diner. The boy didn’t look happy. His face was streaked with dirt, and tears had left clean little trails down to his chin.

  Before Piper could say a word, the boy started to wail. “Where Harvey?” he cried. “Where Harvey?”

  “I’m sorry,” said the man. “Harvey is my son’s—”

  “Best friend?” Piper suggested.

  “No, his bunny,” he explained.

  “I’m sorry, sir,” Piper said to the father. Her heart went out to the little boy, but she was proud to know that a bunny was a Wishworld animal with long floppy ears. “We don’t allow pets in the diner.”

  “No, no,” the father said. “Harvey is his stuffed animal.” He turned to his son. “It’s okay, Sammy. We’ll find that lost bunny. I promise. But right now, we’re going to order you a special treat.”

  But Sammy didn’t want ice cream, pie, rice pudding, or Jell-O. He just wanted Harvey back. Piper’s own mind flashed back to the day before and how a special treat seemed to cheer up Olivia—if only momentarily. “I know just the thing,” she said.

  She disappeared behind the counter. Then she set to work making two chocolate egg creams. “Chocolate syrup,” she told herself, “milk, and seltzer. No eggs. No cream.”

  “Are you making egg creams?” Alice asked, moving closer. “We don’t sell them; they’re not even on the menu. Why would a customer even order it?”

  Piper flushed, hoping she hadn’t made a mistake. “They didn’t,” she said. “I just made it for them. Is that okay?”

  Alice thought a moment. “Yes, I guess it is. It’s already made, anyway. So just go ahead and serve it. I’ll figure out how much to charge.”

  “Thanks!” said Piper, relieved she wouldn’t have to disappoint the father. His son had settled down a bit and was just sniffling. But anything could set him off again.

  A starsec later, she placed two tall glasses on their table. “Here!”

  Sammy slurped through his straw while his father watched. “Yummy!” the boy said, grinning ear to ear.

  Then the dad sipped his own egg cream and smiled. “It is good!” he exclaimed. “What do you call this?”

  “It’s a chocolate egg cream,” Piper told him. “And you can’t get it at any fast food restaurant.” Piper tapped her elbows three times for luck. At least she hoped you couldn’t get it at any fast food restaurant. What about places in that small town called New York City?

  “Well, that’s for sure,” Alice said from across the room, and Piper felt better.

  “Sweet,” said the dad, who took out his phone and, oddly enough to Piper, took a photo of the egg cream.

  “Hey, Alice!” a customer at the counter called out. “Can I get one of those egg dreams?”

  “Egg creams,” Alice corrected. “And yes!”

  “Me too,” someone else shouted “They look really good!”

  Just then a wail echoed through the diner. “My bunny,” Sammy cried again. The egg cream finished, he’d remembered his lost stuffed animal.

  All of a sudden, a picture appeared in Piper’s mind: a raggedy stuffed bunny on a Wishling car floor. Every once in a while she’d get a hunch or instinct—she didn’t know what to call it. But she’d learned to trust it.

  She peered through the diner window, into the car they had exited. She looked through the car doors. Like magic, the metal melted away to reveal the floor, covered by books, toys, and a blanket. And underneath the blanket, Piper could see the missing bunny. “Hey,” she said, as casually as she could. “Did you check the backseat?”

  The dad sighed. “I already looked.”

  Then he sniffed the air and got a wistful look on his face. “Mmm,” he said. “Apple cobbler. Just like my aunt Kitty used to make.” He smiled. “I’ll go check again right now.” He hurried outside with Sammy. Starmins later they were back, Sammy clutching his precious bunny tightly.

  “Thank you, thank you,” his father said to Piper. “I don’t know how you knew where to look. You’re a lifesaver.” Sammy hugged her, which made Piper glow for a split starsec, too quick for anyone to notice. Then the dad left an extra-big tip.

  It had taken a while for Piper to figure out the tip business. First of all, there was no physical money on Starland so the bills and coins themselves were odd to her. And it seemed strange that Wishlings would just leave money lying on tables. But when she realized it was like a thank-you present to the waitstaff, she’d slipped all her tips into the tip jar when Alice wasn’t looking.

  She didn’t think she’d contributed enough to turn business around. But maybe it was a start.

  The rest of the day passed uneventfully. Olivia came by after school, with the same friends dropping her off outside. The four held another whispered conference before she went inside.

  That night, Piper was exhausted. All she wanted to do was sleep. But even in the dark, she could tell Olivia’s eyes were wide open and staring at the ceiling. The girl was afraid to fall asleep.

  “Do you think you can talk me through that relaxation technique again?” Olivia asked almost shyly.

  “I could,” Piper agreed, “but there’s another approach we can try, too.” And maybe this one will work better, she added to herself. “Close your eyes, and imagine you’re at the ocean.” She stopped. “Wait a minute,” she said to Olivia. “Do you even like the beach?”

  “Love it,” Olivia murmured.

  “Okay, so you’re standing on warm, smooth sand, looking out over the water. A light breeze ruffles your hair.”

  Piper thought she saw Olivia’s hair lift slightly from her pillow.

  “It’s perfect,” Piper went on, “except that you’re holding a heavy backpack you can’t put down, because you’re afraid the tide will wash it away.”

  Olivia’s shoulders hunched.

  “Now each time a wave rolls onto the sand, one item disappears from your backpack. After it leaves, you feel stronger, less worried. Here comes the first wave…in…and…out.”

  Olivia’s shoulders rose the slightest bit.

  “And another wave…in…and…out, coming a little closer to your feet.”

  Each wave seemed to make Olivia’s load lighter. Each wave came a little closer. Finally, Piper told Olivia she was carrying nothing at all, and the water lapped at her feet, cleansing and purifying her mind.

  Olivia sighed happily. “Thank you, Piper.”

  “You’re welcome, Olivia. But I’ll tell you something else that can make you feel better.”

  Olivia shifted to face her, still interested. “What?”

  “Opening up to others.” Piper held up a hand before Olivia could protest. “Opening up to people you trust can be a powerful force.” She felt sure that was one reason Olivia had bad dreams: she was holding all her worries inside, not telling a soul. And they were finding their way into her dreams.

  “There is strength in vulnerability,” Piper went on, “and communicating emotions. It gives me so much energy I glow….I mean, I feel like I’m glowing. It would make you feel energized and strong.”

  Piper waited patiently. She knew Olivia was mulling this over. And maybe, just maybe, she’d confide in Piper. She’d talk about her concerns about the diner. Then they could come up with a solution together.

  When Olivia stayed quiet, Piper decided to change direction a bit. Maybe Olivia wanted to talk about the nightmares first.

  “And you know what else? Dreams are amazing windows into feelings,”
she began. “They seem so real, because the emotions that drive them are real.”

  “And the feelings are intense!” Olivia put in. “They’re even stronger than when I’m awake, because—”

  “Your dream is so much more intense!”

  “That’s it exactly!” Olivia said. “I mean, I can dream I’m in school, but the next moment I’m climbing Mount Everest. In real life, when I’m in school, I’m in school, and I can’t blink and find myself anywhere else.”

  Piper thought a moment. With enough wish energy manipulation practice, she could probably teleport from Halo Hall to the Crystal Mountains in the middle of Astral Accounting class. But it didn’t seem right to mention it to Olivia. Besides, she understood exactly what Olivia meant.

  “Dreams make the impossible possible,” she said. “So they can be amazing and crazy and scary and wonderful all at the same time. Believe me, I know how powerful dreams can be. But you’re going to wake up. They can never really hurt you. In fact, they may be able to help you. They have meaning and can guide you.”

  “Grandma Rosie used to say something like that, that dreams are the windows to the soul.”

  “She did?” Piper said, delighted. “I really wish I knew her.”

  A tear slid down Olivia’s cheek. “I really miss her. My parents are great and everything, obviously. But they work crazy hours and in their downtime they have so many things to take care of, like taking me to the doctor, buying me shoes, helping me with my homework….”

  This didn’t seem to have much to do with diner business. Still, Piper thought it could lead to a revelation. So she nodded, interested.

  “My grandma and I would just talk and talk, especially once Isabel left for college and I was on my own so much. I could tell her anything. Good, bad, it didn’t matter. She always understood.” Olivia lowered her voice. “If she were here right now, I’d talk to her. I’d tell her—” She paused. Piper knew she was about to say something important, something revealing—something that would confirm Olivia’s wish.