It is Penny’s first day of work, and she’s already running late, gasping and panting, with beads of sweat on the bridge of her nose. She had a celebratory dinner with her family yesterday before chatting the night away with her friends, hence the oversleeping. The call with Assam went on for an especially long time as he was very keen to know all the ways in which his book had been helpful.
“So when you said that, how did his face change again? Oh, my goodness, that book was indeed the silver bullet! You know, the book I gave you, right?”
Penny promised to treat him to a nice meal in return, finally getting him to hang up the phone.
Today, the city is especially busy with locals and out-of-town sleep customers. Penny quickly pushes through the crowd, knocking shoulders and apologizing. She finally catches her breath when she arrives at the back alley of the Dallergut Department Store. She might just make it on time.
The alley is filled with the savory scents of roasted fruits and boiling milk. Having skipped breakfast, she looks around to see if she can pick up a fruit skewer, but the line is too long.
“What’s up with today? So many people,” says a flustered food-truck cook. He’s flipping over fruit skewers on the grill with one hand and ladling a massive pot with the other. Caramelized onion milk is boiling inside the pot. It’s a popular recipe, known for inducing deep sleep.
Several customers are already sipping onion milk from mugs in front of the food truck. The elder customers look relaxed and satisfied, but the kids take sips and scowl. One deliberately spills milk on the floor.
“No waste on the floor, please!” A Noctiluca appears out of nowhere, shaking his furry paws as he steps in between the kids and Penny. Smaller than Assam, he starts wiping the milk from the floor, grumbling. Penny quickly moves away so as not to get any milk on her socks. She’s not wearing shoes today as she wanted to run fast and comfortably.
In fact, it is not uncommon to walk around without shoes here. The street’s strict sanitation policy ensures it’s as clean as an indoor floor, so sleeping customers can kick off their shoes. Naturally, the locals have also taken to walking in socks for a quick stroll.
But this has caused an unexpected crisis for the Leprechauns, who have been artisan shoemakers for generations. People now shop more for socks and less for shoes, which has hurt the shoe business. As a result, the Leprechauns have expanded their business ventures into the dream-production sector. Assam told Penny that their revenues soared by 1,000 percent after their expansion. That sounds believable, given that the Leprechauns’ shoe store has just moved from a cheap corner spot to a bigger space in the main street.
As she passes, Penny glances at the Leprechauns’ store window display, located right next to the Dallergut Dream Department Store. It has a big sign and lots of other product posters here and there, making it hard to see the inside of the store.
LOOKING FOR WINGED SHOES, LIGHTSPEED SKATE SHOES, AND SPECIAL FLIPPERS FOR GRACEFUL SWIMMING? COME INSIDE! INTERESTED IN A FLYING DREAM, SPRINTING DREAM, OR SWIMMING DREAM THAT HARNESSES THE ESSENCE OF THE LEPRECHAUNS’ MASTER TECHNOLOGY? VISIT US IN THE DALLERGUT DREAM DEPARTMENT STORE NEXT DOOR, ON THE THIRD FLOOR!
“Papa, can I have winged shoes?” a girl asks her dad.
“Those shoes break easily, sweetie. The best shoes don’t have fancy features, just strong soles.”
“I’m not leaving until you buy me those shoes!” She flops down, throwing a temper tantrum.
Penny passes the father and daughter and finally arrives at the Dream Department Store. She pulls out a pair of loafers from her purse and does a last-minute check of her reflection in a compact mirror. Her bobbed hair looks elegant today. With her cute nose and big, gentle eyes, she should make a good first impression. The only downside is the wrinkled blouse she forgot to iron, but she can do nothing about it now.
As she steps inside the department store, she is greeted by an enormous throng of customers. At the lobby’s front desk, an employee is making announcements into a microphone. It is the same middle-aged woman Penny saw yesterday, who was busy on the phone.
“Attention, new out-of-town customers. All costs are deferred! You may leave once you receive your dream! Hey, Dojicom siblings! That doesn’t apply to you. You guys come and pay first!” A young, freckled brother and sister get caught trying to sneak through the back door. They trudge toward the front desk.
Penny is confused about whether she should go to Dallergut’s office first or just change into her employee apron. In her waffling, someone yanks her by the hem and pulls her behind the front desk.
“You’re new today, right? Nice to meet you. Now stay on your toes. We have a busy day today.” The middle-aged woman who was just giving announcements smiles at Penny. “My name is Weather,” she continues. “I’m the first-floor manager. But forget the title, just call me Weather. I have a daughter around your age and a baby boy. Been working here for thirty years. That’s pretty much all you need to know about me.”
She seems bright and cool but looks exhausted. Her red curly hair is drooping, and her voice has gone raspy.
“Hi, Weather. I’m Penny. And you’re right. Today’s my first day. And so... What should I do first?”
“Dallergut asked me to give you a tour. As you know, each of our five floors sells different genres of dreams. You don’t need to worry about the first floor—Dallergut and myself, with other veteran employees, handle the customers here. From the second to the fifth floor, you’ll go upstairs and meet each floor manager. They’ll explain their floors to you. Then, you can tell us which floor you want to work on. But if none of the managers like you, well, you may have to go home...”
Penny blinks her large eyes in shock.
“I was just joking.” Weather shakes her hand. She looks hot, and as she takes off her jacket, her shirt is drenched with sweat, even with the air-conditioning. “Now, off you go. I gotta get back to work. So many customers today.”
Penny departs, and Weather quickly disappears behind a flock of customers pushing toward the front desk. She can hear her yelling, “What about ‘The Reunion with an Old Friend’ product? There’s only one left in stock on the second floor! Were you asking what kind of old friend it would be? I have no idea! Possibly a childhood friend that you still remember?”
“‘Three Nights in the Maldives’ was out of stock as soon as they came in.”
“I’m sorry, but this dream is already reserved. No ripping the package!”
“Chuck Dale’s ‘Five Senses of Sensual Dream Series’ was just taken a minute ago by a group of teenage customers.”
“All floors will be sold out soon. ALL DREAMS WILL BE SOLD OUT SOON!”
Away from Weather’s desperate calls, Penny turns toward the elevator. There’s already a long line forming, so she decides to take the staircase next to Dallergut’s office. She wonders if she should stop by and say hello, but after seeing a handwritten sign that reads Temporarily Away she decides to return later. Dallergut’s printer must still be broken. The wooden staircases are so steep that by the time Penny reaches the second floor, her thighs already feel numb. At least she won’t need additional workouts.
At first glance, the second floor looks clean, without a speck of dust. A simple wooden interior and evenly placed lighting fixtures. Even the product tags look as consistent as clockwork. Most of the display stands are empty, but the few items still in stock are placed at exactly the same angle, each with the same ribbon tied to them. The employees in their aprons walk around the display stands, conscientious and anxious as they look after the prospective buyers, who inspect various products and put them back in a disorderly fashion.
While the first floor sells only a handful of high-end, popular or limited-edition, preordered products, the second floor sells more generic dreams. Also known as “The Daily” corner, the second floor displays dreams of simplicity. Dreams of quick getaways, hanging out with friends, and enjoying good food.
In front of the staircase where Penny stands is a display case marked Memories. Inside it is a luxurious leather case labeled No Refund Once Unsealed. Only a few dreams remain.
“What is this dream about?” a woman calls after examining a product.
“It replays a favorite childhood memory in your dream! The stories differ depending on the dreamer. In my case, I had a dream where I lay on my mother’s lap while she cleaned my ears. Her scent and the languid atmosphere—it was all so real. It was wonderful.” The employee stares into space, daydreaming.
“I’ll have it, then. Can I buy a few?”
“Of course. Lots of customers buy two or three a night.”
Penny stands on her tiptoes to get a better look at the second floor. A middle-aged man who seems to be the floor manager is talking to a customer in a corner that has been decorated like a modern bedroom. Penny carefully approaches him so as not to interrupt their conversation.
His look really does scream “Manager.” While all other employees wear aprons and a brooch carved with the number “2,” he flaunts a lavish jacket, the brooch on his left lapel. He seems wiry and shrewd.
“Why can’t I buy it?” asks a young male customer, confused.
“I’m sorry, but how about you come by another time? I’m afraid you’re too distracted right now, which only obscures the clarity of the dream. It’s better to have a good night’s sleep first. I’ve seen countless customers like yourself whose thoughts creep in and alter their dreams entirely. There’s some amazing onion milk on the next street. It helps with sleep. I’d recommend that you come back when you’re well-rested.”
The customer grumbles and goes off toward the elevator. The man who looks like the manager picks up the product the customer left behind, wipes it with his handkerchief, and places it back on the shelf, carefully straightening the angle.
“Excuse me... Are you the manager for the second floor?” Penny asks cautiously. He’s wearing pristinely ironed trousers, his shoes are spotless, and his mustache is neatly trimmed. His cropped hair is pulled back with oily wax. Penny finds him intimidating.
“Yes, I am. Vigo Myers is my name. First day of work here?”
“Er, yes. I’m Penny. How did you know?” Penny covers her cheeks to hide any indication of “amateur” or “newbie” on her face.
“Customers rarely come to me first. They usually call for other employees. They say I’m not easy to talk to, which I don’t mind. So that gave you away, and you didn’t look familiar. It was a natural deduction.” Myers folds his arms and gives Penny a stern look. “You must be on a floor tour. I remember the boss mentioning you.”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“Good. Any questions about my floor?”
Penny’s biggest question is how they can tie all those ribbons into such perfect bows atop every single product, but she asks her second-biggest question instead.
“Why didn’t you sell the dream to that customer?”
“Good question.” Myers stretches his arms and strokes one of the display stands. “I’ve meticulously inspected and curated all the dreams on this floor. They’re some of the store’s best products. The last thing I want is for a customer to come back complaining that the dream didn’t live up to expectations. Remember—you shouldn’t sell dreams to just anybody, or you won’t get the compensation each dream deserves.”
Penny knows the store takes deferred payments from out-of-town customers, but that’s all she knows. She nods, pretending she understands, but Myers senses otherwise.
“Newbies these days. I heard all they do is bring a cover letter and have a quick interview with Dallergut. And just like that, they’re in!” Myers scoffs sotto voce.
“Yes... I mean, that’s how I got in, too.”
“Well, that’s preposterous! I’m thinking of requiring another round of tests for the employees on my floor. The instability of dreams, and their malleable and perilous nature, cannot be grasped with moderate knowledge. No, sir! Did you know I double-majored in Dreamatography and Dream Neuroscience? My thesis was published in more academic journals than I can count. My knowledge has been enormously helpful in my work here. Weather may have gotten her manager position on the first floor because she’s worked with Dallergut longer, but I’ve earned my place purely by talent. You don’t think I’m here by luck, do you?”
“Of course not. That’s amazing!”
Penny doesn’t want to take extra tests just to work on the second floor. It seems that Myers realizes this, as he steps back to shout at his employees. “All right, everyone! All remaining items on the third display be consolidated to the first! Let’s move. Chop-chop!”
“Yes, manager!”
The employees activate at Myers’s command. Their smooth linen aprons make Penny keenly aware of the wrinkled edges of her blouse, which she struggles to pull straight as she heads upstairs.
The third floor is merrier by comparison. The product posters adorning the wall are artfully arranged, forming a colorful, eye-catching wallpaper. A recent hit song plays through the speakers.
The excitement among dream buyers, not to mention the employees, is palpable. One staffer is in full sales mode with a customer, intent on selling a fancy dream box with powder-pink, heart-shaped ornaments dangling from it.
“Chuck Dale’s Sensual Dream Series is always out of stock. How about this one by Keith Gruer? If you’re lucky enough, you might go on a dream date with your dream date in your dream!” As the customer nods with interest, the employee adds, almost inaudibly, “The caveat is that depending on your condition, the person you go on a date with may be completely random.”
The third-floor staff seem more carefree. All seem to have modified their work aprons to their own liking. One has hers turned into a princess-style dress, another has a badge with a picture of his favorite dreammaker. One staffer, busy replacing a small bulb inside a display case, has a huge pocket sewn onto her apron, filled with a stash of chocolate bars.
Penny looks around for someone who resembles a manager, but no one seems to stand out. She approaches a nearby employee cleaning a display case, wearing a typical linen apron.
“Excuse me, can you direct me to the floor manager? Today’s my first day and I’m on a floor tour.”
“Oh my God—a newbie! You’re looking at her. Mogberry here. I’m the manager on the third floor.”
She’s wearing the same uniform as the other employees. Her short, curly hair is tied back, but thin baby hairs stick out all over. Mogberry looks too young to be a manager, her rosy cheeks adding to her youthful appearance.
Penny gives her a polite bow. “My name is Penny. Dallergut instructed me to take a look around the store, so here I am.”
“So I’ve heard. Welcome to the third floor!” says Mogberry with a wide smile. “This is where all the groundbreaking activity-based dreams are. Oh, sorry, would you excuse me for a second?” Mogberry turns to a hovering customer. “Can I help you, mister? Any specific dream you’re looking for? If you have a preference, let me know. I can offer some recommendations.”
The customer is wearing sporty shorts and a sleeveless top with a deep, plunging neckline. He looks young. Perhaps he’s a middle schooler. He keeps rubbing his hands together.
“I’m looking for one where I’m the center of attention. Better if the whole world revolves around me. The last dream I bought, I showed off a cool rap performance in front of the entire class at a school festival, and I felt like one of the popular kids.”
“There aren’t many left in stock... Oh, how about a dream related to this sci-fi movie series? Superhero movies are big these days. You can be like Iron Man or the Incredible Hulk. The dreammaker, Celine Gluck, is famous for her attention to detail. It would be totally immersive.”
“Awesome. I love superhero movies! In fact, I just saw one at the theater today! So yes, I’ll definitely have one, please!”
Mogberry smiles in satisfaction. The customer tucks the product under his arm and moves to the other side of the floor to keep browsing.
Penny suddenly remembers the notice she saw hanging in the Leprechauns’ shoe store window on her way to work.
“I heard ‘Flying Dream’ by the Leprechauns is on the third floor. Are those sold out?” she asks.
Mogberry, who has been all smiles, suddenly frowns. “Flying dreams are always out of stock. Do you know how cunning these Leprechaun scoundrels are? I wouldn’t say I liked it from the beginning when those shoe-making brats started getting into the dream business out of the blue. Sure enough, I caught them sneaking in dreams that make you feel immobile, like your feet are made of steel! They say it’s good for business. That those dreams pay more. When I called them out on it, they threatened to stop supplying us. Only they can make those types of dreams. I mean, what nonsense is that?”
Penny regrets not having studied the dream payment system. Why do those immobile dreams pay better? She can’t understand the logic. She knows of books like The Economics of Deferred Dream Payments and Sell Dreams, Buy a House, but she has never dared to read them. She is hopeless with money or anything number-related for that matter. Penny wants to ask Mogberry but decides not to. She’s afraid of coming across as underqualified and jeopardizing her chances of getting a job on any of the floors.
“Dallergut is too much of a softie. I think he should cut a deal with the Leprechauns!” the third-floor manager grumbles. As she grows more disgruntled, the curly baby hairs on the crown of her head spring out like mini Slinkies, spraying loose from her ponytail.
Penny starts to peek around, looking for a way out to the fourth floor as Mogberry’s complaining drags on and on. Thankfully, another employee passes by and Mogberry finds a fresh audience for her grumbling about the Leprechauns. Penny slips away.
Secretly, she has high hopes for the fourth floor. It sells nap-exclusive dreams, and she hears these are popular among animal customers, who tend to sleep lightly, or baby customers, who struggle with nap time. Basically, she would be surrounded by adorable customers while working, and that alone is enough reason to build anticipation.
When Penny reaches the fourth floor, she spots a few adorable tiny customers, but overall, it is not quite as she imagined it. There are lots of adults and scary-looking animals here, too. The fourth floor’s ceiling is lower than the others. The displays only reach as far as her ankles. She feels like she’s at a flea market where products are strewn across large mats.
Sticking close to the wall, Penny tries to sidestep a sloth lying in the middle of the corridor while a giggling toddler pokes it. By Penny’s feet, a display reads, “Playing with Owner.” An old, furless dog sniffs around to carefully select a dream. Penny steps aside, careful not to disturb the canine customer.
“Knock, knock.” Someone taps on Penny’s back, startling her. She turns around to find a man in a jumpsuit with long, disheveled hair, staring at her.
“Hiya, you must be the newbie. Why didn’t you come see me first, dear?” he asks slyly.
“Oh, hello. I’m Penny. I got carried away, just looking around... Are you the manager of the fourth floor?”
“Sure am! I’m Speedo, and I’m the manager, indeed! Who else would it be?” Speedo is a fast talker. “This floor is always busy. There’s just so much demand. D’you know what the most important thing is on this floor?”
Penny has no clue, but Speedo seems determined to carry on. He runs a hand through his long hair and raises his chin with its chicken scratch goatee. Penny focuses on the silver brooch on his chest, carved with the number “4.”
“Of course you don’t know. Listen carefully. The key is to make sure these napping customers don’t sleep too deeply from our dreams. Long naps make babies cry, and deep slumber makes animals easy prey. So, when in doubt, it’s best not to sell our dreams at all. The other floors will generate the biggest sales, anyway.”
Speedo doesn’t stop showing off. He must have been dying to do so, with so few people around to boast to.
“Any questions for me?”
“Well—” Penny tries to come up with something, but Speedo cuts her off.
“You wanted to ask why I’m wearing this jumpsuit, didn’t you? People always ask me that!”
Penny fails to hide her “Well, no” expression, but fortunately, Speedo doesn’t care.
“I’ve always felt that putting on a shirt and pants separately is a waste of time. I would rather get more sleep in the morning. Oh, you must wonder—how do I go to the bathroom with this on? Clothes nowadays are so cleverly designed; you unzip it here—”
“Thanks, Speedo, but no need. I think I get it.”
“Well then. Mind getting out of my way? Pretty soon the nappers from Spain will start flocking in.” Speedo takes off as hastily as he’s been talking. In an instant, he’s already conversing with customers. “Oh, you have a good eye! The one you’re looking at is called ‘Fatigue Recovery.’ Only two left in stock. There’s no better nap dream than this! What do you think? Would you like one or two?”
Startled, the customer puts down the product and trots off. Now more of them are leaving, overwhelmed by Speedo’s aggressive customer service, but Speedo seems oblivious as he continues to sweep across the floor.
“Hey, Penny, you still here?” Speedo calls out, then before she knows it, he’s hovering right by her.
Penny hopes she won’t be assigned to the fourth floor. But she’s also feeling increasingly distraught. There is still the fifth floor, but the fifth floor only sells leftover dreams from the other four floors. She can’t imagine that the fifth floor will offer a better work environment.
The first thing she notices when she arrives on the fifth floor are the chaotic banners everywhere. She pushes one aside, which reads Blowout Sale on Expiring Products!
The fifth floor is much more crowded than the other floors, filled with customers and employees. A slew of dream boxes on the central display looks like they’ve been unceremoniously dumped there. Sticky notes and signs are sloppily plastered across the stand.
80% OFF SUPER SALE!
PLEASE NOTE:
ALL DREAMS HERE ARE IN BLACK AND WHITE.
IF YOU WISH TO PURCHASE COLOR VERSIONS,
PLEASE REACH OUT TO STAFF ON OTHER FLOORS.
Below the signs lie dream boxes with hashtags like: #EatingAWholeLobsterAtAPrivateBeach and #SunsetOnTheSouthernIslandShore. Penny pictures a black-and-white scene—a black lobster and the somber gray ocean—then shakes her head. So this is what you call a buy cheap, buy twice situation, she thinks.
“Dear customers, this is a real treasure hunt! Some dreams were originally priced at fifty gordens, and you can also find dreams made by the Legendary Big Five! Some are limited editions! They are all hiding in here somewhere, waiting to be found! Keep your eyes peeled for your very own treasures!”
An employee is standing on one of the displays, gesturing wildly, his back to Penny. Round shoulders, a chubby build, nimble movements... His silhouette seems strangely familiar.
“Motail!”
“Penny! Are you the new hire? I had no idea!” Motail excitedly crouches down and greets her warmly. Penny’s high-school friend and one of the loudest students, he always loved to be the center of attention. He did great impersonations of their teachers, too.
“Are you the manager here...?”
“Of course not! Though I hope so one day. There is no manager on the fifth floor. We can sell dreams however we want. Perfect for me!” As Motail talks, his body keeps bouncing around, and he continues pointing out dreams to the customers below him. “Today’s on me, guys! You can buy one, get one free! Out of my own salary!”
“Are you sure you can make a call like that?” Penny asks worriedly.
“It’s a lie. I was selling it at double the price in the first place.” Motail takes off his corduroy jacket and drapes it over his shoulders as he continues to hawk products. This place does suit him perfectly. But when Penny tries to picture herself dancing around and selling dreams on the display like Motail, her heart sinks.
“Hey, Penny! Look at these. Some great products just came in!”
Motail jumps down from the display and hands her a dream box with a translucent blueish wrapper.
“Is this...?”
“Yes! It’s by Wawa Sleepland. ‘A Week in Tibet’! The view will be gorgeous. Of course, bits and pieces will be in black-and-white, but still. I’m sure you know that Sleepland creates scenery that’s even more awesome than what you might find in real life.”
“But how come such a precious dream ended up here?” Penny is confused. Wawa Sleepland is one of the Legendary Big Five. Her dreams have months-long wait lists and are rarely available.
“One of her customers ordered a custom dream but failed to pick it up in time. I heard the dreamer was a student, and it was during midterms or something, and they apparently pulled an all-nighter and couldn’t use it. Any products not picked up in time also end up here on the fifth floor. I’m going to hide this until my shift ends, then I’ll take it with me,” says Motail, smiling mischievously as he pushes the box deep inside the space below the display stand. “Please don’t say anything to Dallergut, Penny! I want to keep my job,” he adds, showing his snaggletooth grin. “And also, give some thought to applying to the fifth floor. You get incentives for your sales on our floor!”
Penny’s eyes grow wide.
Motail adds, “But the base wage is way low.”
It’s time for Penny to return to the first floor to meet Dallergut. Instead of taking the elevator, she takes the stairs to give herself some time to think.
She weighs the risks of working on each floor. If she chooses the fifth floor, she’d have to train herself to be an extrovert. In other words, she’d need to become a new person. The fourth floor would require her work with Speedo. The third floor seems fun enough, except she’d need to be careful about what topics she discusses with Mogberry. And to work with Vigo Myers on the second floor, well, she’d need to start ironing her blouse every day before she even tries to pass his test. Just as she passes the second floor, she hears Myers shouting, “All products are sold out on the second floor! All sold out!”
Penny arrives on the first floor in front of Dallergut’s office, still undecided about where she wants to work. The Temporarily Away sign is now gone, and the door is ajar. She peeks inside. Dallergut has company—it’s Weather from the front desk.
“Dallergut, we are too old and worn out. We’re long past the days when a cheap lunch box was all we needed to recharge, and that was thirty years ago. We need more people at the front desk. It’s too much work for the two of us to handle. Just look at us today. You were unavailable all day, taking care of the preorders in your office and keeping track of the inventories. I almost passed out covering for you,” Weather complains.
“I’m sorry, Weather. But you know how important the front desk job is. I can’t entrust it to anyone. I’ll try to post an opening internally to see if anyone within our staff is interested. Can you hang in there a little longer? The work can get overwhelming, so I’m not quite sure if anyone’s up for it... Maybe Vigo Myers from the second floor?”
“Myers?” Weather asks.
“With his experience and knowledge, he should be a great help,” Dallergut says gently.
“Oh, I don’t think he would like the idea of working for me. Unless we offer him a managerial position for the first floor... Wait, who’s there?” Weather senses Penny’s presence and turns toward the door.
Penny tries to remain calm as she walks in. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt. I just wanted to stop by and say I finished touring all the floors...”
“Oh, I see. Come in! Please have a seat.” Dallergut greets Penny with delight. He’s wearing a soft cardigan, leaning back in his chair. “So, which floor do you want to apply for?” he asks.
“If I were you, I would choose the second floor. I can’t say Vigo Myers is easy to work with, but you’ll learn a lot from him,” Weather adds. She also seems interested in hearing Penny’s answer.
But Penny now knows that an appealing position has just opened up. And she doesn’t want to let that opportunity slip away.
After a pause, she says in a firm voice, “I want to work at the front desk.”
To her surprise, Dallergut and Weather accept her proposal without hesitation. Weather seems especially delighted to have the extra support right away. And Dallergut, who must have been afraid that Weather might quit, seems relieved that Penny has swooped in and saved him.
The three walk out to the front desk so that Penny can be briefed on her new job. Behind them multiple security monitors follow the state of each floor. Next to the microphone sits a pile of brochures for customers.
“Here, you can track each floor’s inventory, sales and dream payment statuses,” Weather says, as she pulls up several complex windows on the computer monitor. “This is Dream Pay Systems Version 4.5. It’s the ultimate all-inclusive software with everything you need to run a store. The dream payment balance feature is top-notch. Comes with a steep cost, but it’s all worth it. And if you want to use the automatic balance system that links to the safe... When the inventory falls below fourteen percent, it’ll trigger an automatic warning...”
Penny is trying to stay focused, but she’s struggling to pay attention to Weather’s tutorial. Surprisingly, Dallergut is wearing the same vacant look.
“I see you’re another Dallergut, just as tech-averse. I’ll tell you what the Eyelid Scale is.”
“Now that’s something I can weigh in on!” Dallergut brightens.
A towering wall of fully packed shelves curves behind the front desk. On each shelf sits a series of numbered scales, their pendulums swinging up and down like eyelids, indicating sleep status. At eye level, Penny spots a scale labeled No. 902, its marker quickly moving up and down between “awake” and “sleepy.”
“These are for our regulars. Specifically designed to predict their visiting hours. A feature specific to our store,” Dallergut says with a proud look.
“This customer’s eyelids used to get droopy around now,” Weather says, looking sentimentally at Eyelid Scale No. 999. “But as he aged, he started sleeping less. He rarely comes to buy dreams nowadays. You see, I have a fond affection for many of our customers. When a regular forgets to pick up a preorder in time, I’ll stroke their eyelids to help get them to sleep. But you should refrain from that, really; you never know if they’re in the middle of something important where they can’t afford to doze off.”
Penny is so busy writing down notes that she barely has time to answer. “Sorry, can you repeat what you just said? You do what to the eyelids?”
“It’s fine. No worries—I’ll be working next to you anyway.”
The three are engrossed in this Eyelid Scale discussion when an alarm goes off. It’s coming from the Dream Pay Systems monitor that Weather so highly praises.
Ding Dong. “ALL PRODUCTS SOLD OUT. WE ARE CLEARED OF ALL STOCK!”
“Work’s done for today now that everything’s sold out,” Dallergut says as he checks the notification and then announces through the microphone that everyone can leave work early. A cheer echoes across the store.
“It’s been ages since this happened! I should leave early, too. I have a family gathering tonight. My youngest can finally do a handstand! So we’re going to celebrate,” Weather laughs.
All the employees, including Weather, leave one by one, until only Dallergut and Penny are left. Penny also wants to leave, but she’s waiting for her boss to go first, and he’s still in the office. Outside, a few stray customers linger around the front gate.
“I’m sorry, all our products are sold out. We’ll reopen tomorrow as soon as we restock.”
Penny tries to feign her best apologetic look. A handful of customers in their sleepwear shrug and turn to leave.
Dallergut, meanwhile, is scribbling something on a piece of paper at the front desk.
“What are you writing?” Penny asks.
“A sold-out notice to hang on the front gate.”
Penny stands quietly, watching Dallergut. He has already thrown away three sheets of paper and is on the fourth because, apparently, he doesn’t like his handwriting. Penny still finds it surreal that she’s working with Dallergut, let alone standing right next to him.
“Is the Third Disciple from the story really one of your ancestors?” Penny asks, surprised by her own boldness.
“That’s what I’m told. My parents and grandparents always reminded me of that,” Dallergut responds nonchalantly as he picks bits of fluff from his cardigan.
“That’s amazing.” Penny looks at Dallergut in awe.
“Done!” he exclaims, finally finishing off the sign.
“Here, let me put it up for you.” Penny takes out two long lines of tape and sticks the notice nice and firmly. She stands back to check that it is straight before she comes back in.
ALL PRODUCTS ARE SOLD OUT TODAY!
THANK YOU TO OUR CUSTOMERS FOR VISITING
THE DALLERGUT DREAM DEPARTMENT STORE ON YOUR WAY TO SLEEP.
PLEASE COME BACK TOMORROW!
WE ARE OPEN ALL YEAR-ROUND, TWENTY-FOUR SEVEN.
WE’LL ALWAYS HAVE FANTASTIC DREAM PRODUCTS WAITING FOR YOU.
YOURS TRULY,
DALLERGUT
“Time for some snacks!” Dallergut hums as he opens a packet labeled Calm Cookies, the same ones he offered Penny at her interview. “Wait, why are you still here, Penny? You should go home.”
“Well... I was just... Since you’re still here...”
“Oh, no. I’m kind of already off,” Dallergut says, ambiguously.
“Pardon?”
“I actually live in the attic of this building. It’s been remodeled for my use.”
“Oh...”
Jingle.
The doorbell rings, and in comes an elderly customer.
“I’m sorry, we’re out of stock today,” says Penny, but Dallergut steps in, signaling for Penny to wait as he walks forward.
“Actually, I’m not here to buy anything. Do you take preorders?” the customer asks.
“Of course, please come over here.” Dallergut deftly hides the cookie behind his back and welcomes the customer in, followed by a couple more. They’re different ages and genders, but their eyes are all swollen. They must have cried before going to sleep.
“Something must’ve happened to them,” Penny whispers to Dallergut.
“Looks like it. I know them all. They’re actually here later than usual.”
“They must’ve tossed and turned before falling asleep.”
“Quite possibly.”
Dallergut takes them to the staff lounge near the entrance. Penny follows, and Dallergut doesn’t seem to mind.
They pass through a creaky arched door into an expansive room with a chandelier that gives off a warm, cozy glow. There are ragged floor cushions, a couch and a long wooden table. An old fridge, a coffee machine and snack basket in the kitchen.
The customers sit and Dallergut doles out candies from the snack basket. “This is called Deep Sleep Candy. Sweet and effective. Perfect for sleepless nights like tonight.”
As they take the candies, some of the customers begin to cry.
“I’m sorry, I should’ve given you Calm Cookies first,” says Dallergut. “But no worries. You can cry all you want. Whatever happens here stays here. Now, what dream shall I prepare for you?”
“I broke up with my partner a few days ago.” A young woman sitting by the entrance opens up first. “I’ve been okay, coping with it well, but today I had a sudden migraine, and my heart began to ache like crazy. I don’t feel lonely, but just miserable. Ever since the breakup, I can’t seem to move on, not even one step. I can’t tell if what I’m feeling is regret or resentment. Will I understand if I see him again in my dream?”
“I lost my older sister when I was little. We had a big age gap. And yesterday was my twenty-fifth birthday. The same age my sister was when she passed away. It dawns on me just how young she was when she left, and it hurts so much. I would love to see her, at least in my dreams, and have a chat. Do you think she’s doing okay?”
“The contest deadline is coming up soon, but I still have no idea what to submit. Everyone else seems to have brilliant, sparkling ideas, and I feel so dumb. I’m getting old, I don’t have any other skills, and I can’t seem to give up on my dream.”
“I turned seventy last month. It’s been a long, full life. I was packing to move into a new home today and came across some pictures of myself from my student days, and of my wedding. And those old memories have been haunting me all day. Then, as I lay in bed, sorrow crept over me. The way time has flown by felt so cruel.”
The customers all have their own stories to tell, and it takes a long while, as Dallergut takes thorough notes. “Thank you, everyone,” he says eventually. “Your preorder applications are all filled out. We’ll start preparing your dreams.”
The customers finish the Deep Sleep Candy and stand to leave.
“When can we expect to receive our dreams?” asks the old lady, who is the last one to stand up.
“Let me see... For some of you, I can get them right away, but the rest of you may have to wait a bit longer.”
“How long?”
“I can’t say with certainty, but there’s one thing you all need to do to receive your dreams intact.”
“What is it?”
“You must try to get a deep sleep every night. That’s all.”
The customers finally leave the store. Standing next to Dallergut, who is busy compiling all the notes, Penny gets ready to take off.
“Do you take these kinds of made-to-order dreams often?” she asks.
“Not too often. But sometimes. I always find it more rewarding than selling premade dreams. You’ll understand one day when you run a store like me. Now, off you go.”
“Okay.”
The Eyelid Scales continue moving up and down.
“Oh, Penny, wait!” Dallergut stops her.
“Yes?”
“I forgot to give you an official welcome. Congratulations! We’re happy to have you working for us. Hope you like it here so far.”