A Panda's Dream pt. 4
haxchan@yahoo.com

The light gray fog of early morning made Ranma think of dew-soaked
bedrolls and early morning fires, crackling and smoking with bright
orange flame. She looked out through the window, her body intersecting
with Akane's after a night of careless sleep. Even with a thick quilt
pressing the two girls into the warm bed, Ranma thought the city
receding into a single vague hue must remind anyone of chill damp earth
and the sharp scent of cedar.

Ranma raised her head to better see through the sliding glass door. She
heard the rustlings of movement beside her. The mattress buckled
slightly as Akane propped herself up on her elbow to look over her
friend's body to the world outside. After a moment, she let her body
fall, the impact making the mattress curve and reform.

"Good morning Ranma."

Ranma turned from the view to Akane's smiling face. Ranma responded in
kind. "Is it time for breakfast?"

"One way to find out."

The covers were thrown back and the room was empty.

--

"Hello?"

"Oh, hi Sayuri."

"Yeah, I just got done with breakfast."

"I wasn't sure if you'd remember."

"Well, no I wasn't going to call this time, I figured I'd just go with
Ranma someplace."

"Sure, she isn't doing anything else. I'll ask."

Akane put the phone receiver down and shouted to Ranma.

"Ranma, want to go shopping?"

Ranma walked into the room, her lazy pace perfect for a Saturday
morning. "Sure."

Akane picked up the receiver again. "That sounds okay."

"Yeah, we'll be over. When is Yuri-"

"Ah, she's already there. Alright."

"Yeah, in a bit."

--

The apartment building that Sayuri lived in seemed to hide within a
maze of other houses. Around the base of the building was a series of
evenly spaced bushes, with bright red leaves both on the bush and on
the ground, some branches already bare. As Akane pressed the intercom
button, Ranma looked around at the neighborhood that they had walked
through to reach this building. Looking at just one house, the house
created its own space in the world, through how the trim of the windows
was subtlety two-toned against the rest of the house, the way the vague
shapes of potted plants were expertly arranged in kitchen windows. It
was simple to become permanently lost in a house, trying to understand
its story; it would be even easier for whoever lives inside. Ranma
looked at the signs of domestic proficiency, from the moss-free roofs
to the swept pavement and cut grass.

A buzzer rang out, and Akane pulled open the door leading into the
building, beckoning Ranma to enter. Thick red carpet lined the hallway,
with a golden cross weave pattern; the carpet gave slightly when
stepped upon. The doors that filled the hall were painted a clean
white, appearing to recess into cream wallpaper and polished brass
faceplates that gave each room a number. There were personal touches on
every door: a doormat, a welcome sign, a business card holder.

Muffled footsteps, an open door.

"Hey Akane." Sayuri stepped out into the narrow room, noticing the girl
flanking Akane. "Hey Ranma."

"Hey Sayuri."

Ranma smiled, and nodded her head.

Sayuri broke into a grin, and she bobbed her head in a slightly
exaggerated response.

"Hi, Akane and Ranma!" Yuri joined Sayuri in the crowded passage, her
expression bright and ingratiating.

Ranma repeated her greeting.

"Yuri, I wanted to apologize about what I said."

"Akane, don't worry about it. Anyway, we should get going."

--

The shopping center was a labyrinth of multi-storied atriums with glass
ceilings and displays, circular stairways descending to connect
separate floors. Staring at how the distinct style and palette of each
store jammed into the next, the infinite hallway of clashing worlds
extended into an oblivion of brightly clothed shoppers and eye-grabbing
storefront displays. Each store's devised strategy of arrangement and
coloring originated in the same school; the shoppers' jeans and t-
shirts, slacks and button-downs came from the same Asian factories.

The four girls stood in front of a glass-plated store directory.

"Well, Akane, what's first?"

"I dunno, Sayuri, I don't really have anything definite in mind."

"Wait, what are we shopping for?"

Yuri gave a quick laugh at Ranma. "It's hard to believe you don't know
about shopping."

"Well, my excuse is I'm trying to learn."

Sayuri saw the grin on Ranma's face and couldn't help but break out in
her own. "You don't need an excuse. It's just what us girls do. We go
to the mall. If we're really lucky, we buy something."

"Am I gonna get lucky?"

Sayuri glanced at Akane. "I dunno, will you?"

Akane shook her head and laughed. "I guess, if Ranma wants to."

"You should get a jacket, if I was walking around in short sleeves
right now you'd sure be hearing it."

"You know, Yuri, you don't really notice it."

"Are you crazy? Of course you do! You don't because you're crazy or
something."

"Great choice, crazy or something."

"Come on, Ranma, you knew what I meant."

Ranma giggled just like Yuri. By this time, the group had reached a
store with a large display of winter coats in the window.

Ranma stopped for a moment. "Hey, maybe I do want to look in here."

Akane joined Ranma in staring at the fully dressed mannequins. "Sounds
good."

Inside was another world, the art deco of geometric skylights reformed
into light brown paneling; a wooden earthiness that called to sweet
things lost and forgotten, something that could be for a moment
regained by a credit card. The clean elegant lines were mirrored in the
floor, in the wall, in the clothing itself.

Black leather jackets were arrayed in a straight procession of sizes
and styles. Ranma saw it, and was pulled in.

"Akane, come look at this." Ranma's hand reached out to rub the soft
texture against her fingers. "It's lovely."

"Wow, five minutes and you want to blow the month's food budget. Quick
learner."

 "What do you mean, how expensive can this be?"

Taking the price tag in her hand, Akane's eyebrows raised and her jaw
slackened. Her expression reformed and she turned to Ranma. "Fairly
expensive. Do you want it?"

"No, that's okay."

"You're not getting away with that. What's your size?"

"Uhh..."

"Never mind, we'll bring a couple into the changing room."

--

"It doesn't go well."

"Really? I like it."

"I do too, but Ranma, look how it clashes with your old clothes, with
those old ties and stitches."

"Hmm..."

"You know, some gray would go well with that."

"Think so?"

"I'll get you some, you'll have to change."

--

"Wow, Ranma, I gotta say, that looks sharp."

"Thanks Yuri, but Akane gets the credit."

"Well, it's your face and hair that make it work. And how thin you are."

"Sayuri's right, look at how snug those pants I found are. Turn around."

Ranma did, pulling her jacket up so the girls could see the tight seat
of her slacks. Even Yuri nodded with appreciation.

Akane's continued animatedly. "And that sweater, look how well it and
the pants match the jacket."

In the silence that followed, Ranma could feel the eyes of the other
girls searching her body over, content with their craftwork. The seal
was affixed, approval granted.

"Anyway, I'm hungry enough to eat all of tomorrow's food right now."
Yuri led the group to the food court, and put down her shopping bag and
her purse. "I need to find a line to wait in."

"Wait, Yuri, I'll go with you."

"Alright, Akane."

The two remaining girls watched their friends recede into the rushing
crowd.

"I have to say, you've done wonders with Akane."

"What?"

"She's been...nervous for a while, kinda agitated."

Ranma nodded politely.

"Like Yuri, I heard she said something to Yuri two nights ago. Look at
them now, just because she got to pick out an outfit for you." Sayuri
smiled, her arm idly stroking the same white cotton blouse Ranma had
seen her wear to school. "I don't know what you did, but it's working."

"I didn't do anything to her."

"Maybe not, but you're something to her that Yuri and I aren't, you're
something free that she can work with. We're already mired in years of
history." A wistful sigh came out of Sayuri, hard for Ranma to hear
over roar that enveloped them from all direction- of men, women and
children talking and moving all at once.

"So you usually weren't like this?"

"No, Akane didn't talk much." Sayuri turned away from Ranma to look at
the hundreds of people that surrounded them.

"Hmm." Ranma rubbed the palm of her hand against the speckled fuzz of
her sweater.

"It was sad, because I knew I couldn't do anything, and besides, Akane
seemed to want to be by herself, and I let her. All three of us were
too selfish." Sayuri studied Ranma affectionately, trying to see
through the small, rounded nose and curved chin. "I guess all I can say
is keep it up. She's lucky." She maintained her gaze. "You're lucky."

Out of the corner of her eye, Ranma noticed Akane and Yuri approaching,
Yuri's hands clenching a large paper bag that bulged from unidentified
food. The two were chuckling about something.

--

The day flew by in a whirl of advertising banners unfurled from the
distant ceiling and friendly commissioned employees. They decided to
sit down in front of a series of indoor fountains; the bottoms coated
with yen and the water rushing from one pool to the next, until the end
where it was pumped back to the start. Yuri looked at Sayuri. "What's
the time?"

"About time for us to head back. Will you come?"

Akane looked at Ranma. "That's okay, my family is going to my mother's
grave today."

"Ranma, you want to watch a movie or something with us?"

Ranma shook her head, slowly and with sympathy. "Sorry, I probably
should go with Akane."

Sayuri exhaled an ironic laugh. "Yeah, you probably should. You'll have
more fun with her than with me."

"That's not true, you're very nice."

"Akane'll be nicer to you." Sayuri's grin was large, with just a small
twist of playful envy. "Maybe I should find someone."

Yuri was quick to respond. "A boyfriend?"

"That'd work. I bet Kazuo'd be free."

Ranma wrinkled her eyebrows in ill-concealed distaste. "You like him?"

"No, too odd of a guy." Sayuri shrugged. "Every so often he says in
front of the class that we're being pulled along by whores, who strip
us of our identity. He thinks power and money are prostitutes. I could
try to seduce the weirdo."

Even Akane laughed at that.

"Anyway, Yuri and I should be going."

"We'll walk out with you, Ranma and I need to be home soon anyway."

They rose, gathering their bags and entering the flow of people that
spilled and crashed into and over riverbanks of glazed floor-tile and
tinted glass.

--

They had parted ways in the parking lot, under the lights that had just
started to turn on, even as the setting sun burnt the sky a bright red.
It was four smiling faces and waving arms, and then it was two pairs of
walking girls, each in step with her partner. The silence that existed
between Ranma and Akane was comfortable; they were content to walk at
an easy pace between houses with warm yellow glows emanating from the
kitchen, from the family room, from the bedrooms.

"You have some nice friends."

"I guess I do, no matter what I said about Yuri. I was going to ask
what was it that Sayuri was talking to you about, you both seem wrapped
up in it."

"Nothing much."

Akane nodded. "Anyway, she came from the founding family of some famous
martial arts school, that's how I became best friends with her, anyway.
She got to know Yuri a few years before my mother died. Although..."
Akane looked up at the sky. "Maybe it was around the same time, now
that I think about it."

"I recognize this place, over there's that park we walked through
earlier."

"That's right. I was thinking maybe we could go there."

"Sounds good."

--

They walked through the public park, but this time there were families
throwing Frisbees on the grass, pushing baby carriages over the uneven
pavement, even groups of teenagers leaning against trees and sitting on
the benches, laughing. Ranma know it was amazing, something that China,
for all its sweeping mountains and lush meadows, couldn't inspire.

"Ranma, I wanted to give you this."

They sat on the same bench they had rested at earlier. Akane held a
gold circle, then pressed it into Ranma's open palm and curled her
grasp around it. It was cool to the touch. Ranma slowly unfolded her
hand.

"What is- A watch?"

"Yeah, a pocket watch." Akane smiled winsomely, her face open and
bright with quiet pleasure.

"This is amazing." Ranma played with the watch, twisting it from side
to side and watching the glare reflect off its face. She pressed a knob
on and a hinge opened. The fading sunlight afforded her a study of the
hands and the markings: careful, elegant lettering placed on the
circumference of an almost glowing ivory surface. Ranma pressed the lid
closed again, fingers running over the near-mirror lacquer on the thin
cover. "What made you get this?"

Akane shook her head, almost wistfully. "I dunno. I saw it and I
thought of you. I wanted you to have it."

In the distance, cut into the slope of a nearby hill, an office
building stood in the light of the setting sun, its windows ablaze and
its stone facade crimson, pools of molten gold in red sandstone basins.

Ranma wrapping her arms around Akane, her head on the other girl's
shoulder. She looked up, the face of her friend only centimeters away.
"It's so easy to love you, you know that?"

"Yeah."

Ranma giggled when Akane's hand lightly squeezed the seat of her pants.
She leaned forward so their lips flowed into the each other's; fathers
walked by with polo shirts, children played baseball with tiny leather
mitts.

--

"We're home!"

"About time. It's almost dark." Kasumi gave her younger sister a
reproachful glance. She turned towards the stairs and raised her voice.
"Nabiki, do you think that the word now means later?"

"Alright, alright."

Soun walked in, his tall, thin frame eclipsed by the panda walking him.
"Kasumi, are we ready?"

"When Nabiki decides to, yes, we will be."

Nabiki descended the stairs. "God, Kasumi, its not like mother's going
anywhere."

Ranma noticed that no one responded, although Soun's wincing was rather
painful to watch.

--

The polished gravestone was clean, obviously well cared for. It was
alone, surrounded only by slightly over-grown grass, in a private plot.
Overhead was an ancient tree, withered by centuries, its leaves
scattered on the ground below. Downtown Tokyo rose in phantom columns
over the profile of a distant hill.

"Dear wife, here's someone new for you to meet, it's the daughter of
Genma." Soun waited the appropriate amount of time then continued. "I
guess he turned out to be a girl after all. Anyway, she and Akane are
quite close now, and I know you're as glad about it as I am. She's been
so much happier recently, it must mean so much for her."

"Father!"

"Kasumi, if you want to talk to Mother, I'd appreciate it if you'd wait
a moment."

Kasumi started, her face an embarrassed red. "Father, don't you know
that Akane and Ranma are having..." Kasumi trailed off, her tongue
refusing to speak the word. "Having sex."

"What?" Soun turned away from his wife's grave, facing his two
daughters. "Are you serious?"  Akane looked away, Kasumi nodded in
self-righteous anger.

"Akane! Who is this boy?" Soun's form straightened and his gaze
steeled. He looked his daughter in the eye. "Is this Ranma's doing?" He
turned to address the other girl. "Listen, I can only express my
deepest sympathies for your father," Soun stopped, sighing
appropriately with power and conviction. "He was my closest friend.
But, he would also not want you to fall into this moral abandon."
Crescendoing, his thundering voice echoed to the heavens burning
invisible above.

"When such disgrace befell our family, my fathers had no choice, as I
have no choice now. I must be harsh; I must be just. I can hear Mother
as easily as when we were engaged that clear, starry night, she is
calling out that our honor cannot be lost, our nobility cannot be
forsaken."

"Father! Akane and Ranma are having sex!"

"There's a man ruining our family name, so why won't you tell who he
is? I'll show him that my daughter and her friend aren't to be used
like cheap toys."

Kasumi could barely stand to correct the rage that burned so
beautifully on her father's face, she wanted the spark to re-ignite the
cold embers within.

"With each other."

"Yes Kasumi, but with who? You have to understand, Kasumi, this is what
I must do! I must act."

"With each other, Father! There is no boy!"

"What? What do you..." his voice trailed off, his expression frozen
into a sculpture of confusion, his towering frame captured forever in a
stance of commanding presence. Then it was gone, the moment fading into
the endless procession of dead hours.

Ranma saw the family: Soun's slumped posture, Kasumi's scornful
eyebrows wrinkled in black rage, Nabiki's sad, mocking smirk. Her arm
found Akane's body; her fingers reassuringly gripped the soft skin of
Akane's thigh.

"Akane, how could you do this to Father!"

"I didn't do this to anyone! No one was supposed to know!"

"What, like Nabiki and I couldn't hear the sounds from your room?"

"It's easier to hear if you press your ear right up against the door."

"Nabiki, you have no right to say that! And Akane, how could you do it?
Do you know what it means to Father to see you well married?"

"I was supposed to marry Ranma anyway..."

"It's not the same, it's not close to the same! How did you think
Father would feel?" She paused, and then started again, a clever
triumph in her eyes. "And what about Mother?"

"Don't lecture me about Mother, you always hated her! You hated her
even after she gave you what you always wanted and taught you how to
take care of the family! She replaced me with you, just so you could be
happy!"

"You can't believe that; it was Mother deciding that you were suddenly
too good for housework, that you deserved something better, and that I
should be the one to take it. And now marriage itself isn't good enough
for you, and you're wrapping that girl around yourself, along with
whatever else you do to each other!"

"I don't care! You don't know how it feels to have a warm body pressed
against yours, or to stare into loving eyes! You don't know what it's
like to look at her naked body and want her more than anything else!"
Akane's cadence slowed, and she lowered her face from Kasumi's glare.
Tears fell down, drop by drop.  "You don't know how much I needed her!"

Akane turned and reached for Ranma, her movement mechanical and her
hands shaking. Ranma embraced her.

"Ranma," a deep voice intoned, hollow and cracking. "Please...." Soun's
eyes kept flitting towards the relief of the grave. "Please...be good
to Akane. She reminds me so much of her mother. Please...take care of
her."

Kasumi seethed but her feet remained rooted, her clenched fists
trembled. It was painfully clear to her now; she had lost, Akane had
won. Mother had written a shining path into the stars for her youngest
daughter, for reasons that lay dead and buried under the white
gravestone.

Ranma nodded dumbly. "Sure, Mr. Tendo. Sure." Soun gratefully turned
away to affix his eyes to the ghostly white stone. As the sun fell
below the horizon and dusk descended, the panda stood removed, watching
silently with an ethereal stare.

--

As they walked home, silent and pensive, a well-dressed businessman in
matching dark suit and tie approached, looking pointedly at Ranma. "Do
you have the time?"

The family halted, waiting for the girl to answer. They stood under the
awning sky, starless and orange from millions of electric lights.
Against the incandescent night, the panda's eyelids fell together,
until the spectral, luminous whites melted into velvet fur. A breeze
ruffled his fur, and he was lost in another time, when the vibrant
forests of Japan called sweetly with majesty and purpose. When the
star-studded heavens were so close and clear that a father could hoist
his son onto his shoulders, when the child's fingers could grasp the
points of twinkling light that glimmered brilliant silver against
radiant black.

Ranma smiled, pulling her arm tightly around Akane's waist, feeling
Akane's body press back into hers. Her other hand reached into the
velvet lining of her jacket pocket, searching for the smooth piece of
metal. She pulled out her watch, its metallic finish shining from the
haze of the overhead streetlamp.

"The time?" She at once fought the urge to break out laughing. "Why
would we know that? All we can do is to keep going and hope we make 
it. We have to make it before it's too late."


* * *

Thanks to August Dvorak and William Dealey for their work in
keyboard research. Thanks to Don DeLillo and Michael Cunningham
for their inspiring artistic vision. Thanks to whomsoever contacts 
me as a result of this work. I thank you, the reader, for your time.
excellsior@attbi.com
or
haxchan@yahoo.com


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