Part 9 - Magical Possibilities

A bitterly cold January morning had welcomed the students of Dolley Madison High School back from their winter break holiday. Perhaps that was fortunate, Christie thought as she hurried into the school's main lobby. The brisk walk from home had undoubtedly helped her finally wake up this morning. These latest dreaming episodes were driving her crazy. Faceless dancers dancing. Featureless faces crying. All jumbled up and making no bloody sense at all! What was the point of seeing the future if you couldn't figure out what the hell it all meant? About 3 AM this morning, Christie gave up attempting to sleep through the chaotic dreamscape and went down to the kitchen to think.

Several cups of her Mother's favorite herbal tea concoction later, she still hadn't been able to make heads or tails of her 'vision.' Other than dance and tears, she remembered nothing else of any note. There'd been no sounds, no staging, no context. How was she supposed to make any sense out of that?? At any given time, there were probably a few billion people crying and maybe almost as many dancing in the world. Why had her mind locked onto this confusing kaleidoscope of images? Was it a warning? Was she supposed to freaking DO something? WHAT!??

What concerned her the most was that the intensity, or perhaps, the urgency of her dreaming, had been ramping up over the last few nights. Somehow, she felt, practically KNEW, that SHE was supposed to do something, particularly about the damned crying!

On the walk to school, she'd thought about her options and had only come up with one that might offer an avenue to finding an answer. It was time to try using Grandfather's meditation techniques to focus her so-called gift. They hadn't really progressed to that yet during her training, but several times, she'd had that same feeling she'd gotten when she'd set her hand on fire or when she'd felt her Mom's healing link. She was pretty sure she was just a thought away from focusing her mind's magic.

That wasn't so scary, was it? Hell, yeah, it was! She couldn't come up with any other ideas, so she'd just have to try, wouldn't she. That left the question of whether she should ask Grandfather to sit in when she tried or whether she should just do it. She'd definitely prefer to have him there, but there was a problem. She wasn't really sure, but her instincts told her that Grandfather had been actively inhibiting her full power during their recent meditation training sessions. That was probably a very wise move considering they were exploring the unknown capabilities of Christie's mind, but there was this increasing sense of urgency to consider. Could she talk Grandfather into helping and taking off the training wheels? Christie guessed she'd be pondering that question all day. One way or another, she was determined to try to do this tonight.

~-~

Christie looked at the clock in the dojang's smallest studio. Forty-five minutes until her class started. Hopefully, that would be enough time to do . . .something, anyway. Somehow, she'd managed to enter the dojang, put on her dobok, and then slip into this studio, all without being seen. Wow, Ninja Christie, she giggled to herself. On the walk here from school, she'd finally decided she'd ask for Grandfather's help if he saw her and try on her own if he didn't. Was this a sign? Darned if she knew, but here she was, and it was time to act. That much, she somehow knew beyond any question.

With one last, deep, cleansing breath, Christie sank gracefully to the floor and assumed the classic lotus position. Resting her wrists comfortably on her crossed legs, she closed her eyes and began centering herself, her essence, her chi. As Grandfather had so painstakingly taught her, she found her 'safe place' and rested there, becoming familiar with it once more so that she could always find her way back if she needed it.

Once she felt ready, Christie turned her mind's focus to faceless dancers and faceless tears. A tendril of what she perceived as a light appeared on the horizon of her mind's eye, and she made herself follow it since it was the only thing other than darkness available to her. Slowly, gradually, the light resolved and became the dancer of her dream. Cautiously, Christie 'moved' closer, and the faceless dancer shifted into a ballerina - still faceless, but definitely female. She was dancing, but strangely. Not at all fluidly - more herkie-jerky motions than the smooth, elegant movements of a trained ballerina - and yet . . .? Drawing closer still, she could tell that the dancer's positions were spot on - right out of the ballerina instruction manual. She was doing that on purpose??

Of course, Christie's mind realized she was performing the windup doll dance from 'The Nutcracker.' With that insight, a face began to form on the dancer, and she looked . . .somehow familiar? Christie started to move yet closer so she could get a better look when suddenly, the whole scene shifted, and she found herself among the audience, watching the performance as a spectator.

Something, a sound? Pulled Christie's attention away from the stage and onto the person seated next to her in the auditorium. She looked familiar, too! Kind of like . . .Mrs. Pettis? Cindy's Mom? Were they watching Cindy performing as a soloist in the Nutcracker? Why?

Tears started streaming down the woman's face, and for a moment, Christie thought they were happy tears - like when her own Momma had seen Christie dance in that last recital for Madame Coulter. Then she realized they weren't happy at all. They were just streaming too hard, and the woman kept looking away, almost as if it were painful for her to watch the dancer.

". . . Me." Christie's eyes went wide. She'd never heard words in her dreams. Her friend's Mom had said something? Instantly, Christie focused all her mind on the woman, trying to hear and understand what she was "saying" . . .

With a scream of near-agony, Christie broke out of her trance and was racing through the door into the main studio before she quite knew what she was doing. She had to ESCAPE! That was the only thing on her mind. She had to get away from this . . .this . . .debacle!

~-~

Grandfather Kim was shocked to see Christie run blindly past him without even a word of greeting. Worse, the girl's face had been whiter than her dobok. Following her, he watched in amazement as she ran out of the dojang onto the sidewalk and just kept running. He started to follow but quickly realized that although he was in peak physical condition, he wasn't catching Christie on foot. Returning to the dojang, he pulled out his cell phone and began to call Amanda McKellar . . .and stopped short when he noticed the shoe boxes. Christie was running away, barefoot, in January! Just then, his call connected, and Amanda said, "Hello, Mrs. McKellar speaking. How may I help you?"

~-~

Amanda made the normally thirty-minute drive home in less than twenty. Barely taking time to turn off her engine and set the parking brake, she was out of the car and running into the house, her eyes searching frantically for signs of her daughter. The first indication Christie was home had been that the front door hadn't been locked. The second had been the faintly red-brown outlines of bare feet on the foyer floor tiles.

She didn't need her healer sight to recognize blood, Amanda thought, as she moved quickly to find her girl. She heard her before she saw her. Amanda had NEVER heard her daughter - or son - crying so hysterically. NEVER! She found Christie in the family room, curled up in the fetal position, sobbing uncontrollably! Racing to her child, she swept the disconsolate girl up in her arms and began murmuring mostly nonsense words of comfort into her ear.

"OH GOD, MOMMA! IT'S ALL MY FAULT, AND I DON'T KNOW IF I CAN EVER MAKE IT RIGHT AGAIN!!"

Before Amanda could make any sense of that declaration, she heard her still unlocked front door open, and a calm voice called out, "Amanda? Christie? It's Grandfather Kim. May I come in?"

~-~

Between the two of them, Amanda and Papa finally managed to calm the distraught girl enough that she could tell her story. Silently, they listened as she poured out everything, the recurring dreams, her confusion, and her inability to make sense of any of it. "I even sat down here in the kitchen for almost three hours this morning drinking that ghastly herbal tea you claim helps clear your mind."

Amanda had to smile at that. Charlie and Christie had always hated her special blend. It said something about her mood and motivation that she'd tried it. "Wondered why you'd put a dent in my contemplation tea blend supply this morning. Guess it didn't help all that much?"

"I don't know. Maybe? I figured out that my dream eye was just too unfocused to do me any good and that I needed to up my game somehow."

"Which," Grandfather Kim put in, "You decided was to attempt the meditation focusing techniques we've been working on the last few months?" At Christie's shaky nod, he sighed. "That was reckless of you, Jeja. There are risks associated with delving too deeply into the psionic arts without support. Why didn't you come to me, Jeja? Why didn't you ask me to help you?"

"I was fairly certain that you've been inhibiting me from using the full extent of my power during our training sessions up till now. I ended up deciding I'd ask if you caught me going into our meditation room but that I'd go it alone if you didn't. Brilliant decision, huh?"

"Apparently not, Jeja," he said with his little smile to ease the rebuke. "So, what set you off so badly that you ran two miles to your home barefoot? Oh, I have your shoes and gear bag out in my car."

"Thanks, Papa. Well, the vision itself was really different than what I get in my dreams." Christie went carefully through her entire episode, putting in as much detail as she could remember.

"So, both the dancer and the spectator looked familiar when you saw them, up close, with your mind's eye?"

Nodding, she continued. "I wasn't sure about the dancer. I just felt I ought to know her. The spectator? I initially thought it was Cindy's Mom, Mrs. Pettis. Then . . .well, then? I seemed to link with the spectator. She was really sobbing by then, and I thought I caught the fragment of a whisper, but all I understood was the word, 'Me.' So, I tried one of the focusing techniques we've been working on. It wasn't Mrs. Pettis; it was a future version of Cindy, and what she said. . .thought was 'I wish that was me. It SHOULD have been me.' Oh, God, it's my fault! She followed me out of the ballet school! She should have been the principal soloist up on the stage!"

"Her Mother approved the change, darling," Amanda reminded her. "Cindy wasn't having any fun at the ballet school and was very unhappy there.

"Yeah, but inside? That girl loves to dance." Christie went on to tell her Mother about the impromptu ballet lift after Cindy had earned her Yellow Belt and the look of sheer joy on the little girl's face. "She's been joining me for my little dance sessions after Taekwondo class sometimes. God, Mom, that girl LOVES the dance, and she could be so good at it, too!"

"Another school, perhaps, Jeja?" Grandfather asked gently.

It was Amanda who answered. "Renee Coulter is the best teacher in our area, maybe in this state. If Cindy is going to reach principal dancer status, she needs what Renee could teach her.

Amanda took her daughter's hand in hers. "Christie, remember the lesson we both learned when you quit ballet last summer? Sometimes, when one door closes, another opens. Perhaps your peek behind the curtain was just one door. Maybe you need to look for that second door?"

"Excellent idea, Amanda," Papa said. "If you are up to looking again, Christie, I will be here to anchor you for a second attempt. And you were correct; I have been inhibiting you from employing your full power up until now. I won't block you this time, but I will help you keep contact with your safe place as you go poking around in those dark corners."

"You think that might help?" Christie asked, afraid to sound hopeful.

"In truth, I don't know. Perhaps what you saw was a possibility and not a certainty. As I understand modern science, one small change can lead to huge changes later on."

"Maybe the urgency I was feeling is because the point at which that small change could impact the future is near at hand?"

"A reasonable guess, but again, I cannot really say with any certainty. Do you want to at least try, Jeja?"

"Oh, God, Yes, Papa! Anything to have a chance of wiping out 'It should have been me' out of my head!"

"Very well, where should we do this?"

~-~

Had Christie had her preferences, they would have assembled outside on their patio facing the garden she used for her morning exercises. However, the wind was howling outside, and wind chills were dropping into the single digits, so they compromised and set up in the family room.

Christie assumed her lotus position across from Grandfather Kim. "Give me your hands, Christie. Perhaps contact will enable me to help more." Papa Kim looked over to Amanda, who was clearly holding her hands, trying to keep them from shaking. "Amanda, I do not know all the details of your abilities, but I understand that you establish some type of link with your patient when you attempt to heal?" At her nod, he continued. "Put your hands on your daughter's shoulder and attempt such a linkage. Your presence in her mind will help calm her and give her added confidence for the challenge ahead."

Happy to have at least some part in this, Amanda hurried over to stand behind Christie, resting her hands as Papa had directed. Christie sighed and then cocked her head to lean into one of her mother's hands, almost like a hug.

"Now, Jeja. Center yourself. Find your safe place, and begin."

If Christie had been thinking about such things, she would have been surprised at how much easier finding her center, and the safe place was with her Mom and Papa with her. Once she had reacquainted herself with the location, she began to search as she had earlier at the dojang. This time, multiple specks of light appeared, all congregated near one another, and she started moving towards them.

Amanda was startled when she actually felt power flowing from her into her daughter. She started to resist instinctively, but then she recalled what Papa had said about the linkage calming and helping Christie, and with a conscious effort of will, she released her power to her daughter.

Christie felt herself 'speed up' in her travel to the specks, and they seemed to resolve faster - sooner than the one before had done. As she continued to approach, she started to sense details from each speck. One of them, she recognized as the same one she'd already experienced, so she made to explore the others this time, looking for the other door her Mother had talked about.

Amanda's second surprise came when she seemed to start sensing what her daughter was doing. Evidently, scraps of whatever information Christie was picking up were leaking to Amanda through their link. It was the first time she had ever experienced another sorcerer's magic like this. What she was getting was too sketchy for her to really 'see' anything, but she was clearly in touch with Christie's emotions and feelings. And then, she 'felt' the moment Christie found something she apparently liked. Amazing!

Suddenly, Papa and Amanda realized Christie had found something. Amanda tried to make more of her power available while Papa strove to hold the center and anchor the girl. And then, the draw on Amanda stopped, and Christie returned to her safe place. "Come back now, Jeja," Grandfather said softly. "Just as we have done in the past. Slowly, gently . . .and YES. You're back!"

Christie's eyes fluttered open, and she looked from her Mother to Grandfather and smiled. "Can we get something to eat? I'm suddenly starving!"

~-~

Later, over grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup, Christie related her experience and what she had learned. "It started out the same, except there were more options - I saw them as a group of light specks, initially, and I could move faster, too."

"I'm not sure how, honey, but I think you were drawing power from me. I've never heard of anything like that before, but I know what I felt! And then, I started catching the edges of what you felt. I'm amazed!"

Christie nodded as she hungrily chewed her sandwich. "That probably explains why everything became so much clearer more quickly, too. I wasn't flying on just my own power. Anyway, I think I found what my dreams have been pointing me at. One of the specks definitely had Cindy dancing the Windup Doll dance from The Nutcracker at the New York Met, and I'm positive it was her Mom this time in the audience. Somehow, I know that THIS Cindy went back to ballet class right about now, and somehow, I was involved with her training there. How? No idea, but I do know that this Cindy looked back on her ballet training with fond memories."

"I think the how should be fairly obvious, Jeja. What was it you said about Madame Coulter? There was no joy in her studio? And yet, this Jeja Cindy has pleasant memories of her time there - with you."

"Oh, hey, wait, just a cotton-picking moment, Grandfather. I'm not going to be a ballerina. I'm getting too tall and too heavy! Why would I go back to Renee's studio?"

"Obvious again, Jeja. Cindy needs you to be there to help teach her, to shield her and to show her the joy. You are already dancing with her, aren't you, Jeja? Are you qualified to be her dance Sa Bum Nim?" At Christie's shake of her head, Papa smiled. "Then you must take her to the one who is qualified and perhaps help them both find the joy of the dance."

"But, Grandfather! I love and need the Martial Arts."

"There is no law that I know of that says you cannot be both a dancer and a karateka, Christie. Perhaps you are meant to be and to teach both. Only time will tell, but you have it in you to do both well."

Christie groaned but nodded her head. "Okay, if Cindy and her Mother are willing, I'll go along, too. Not like I can get back to black belt status anytime soon with the new standards for training time."

Amanda smiled. "I'll help with Mrs. Pettis. She's a Mom, and she wants her child to be happy. We'll just have to help her realize that dance is what will make Cindy happy."

"Yeah," Christie groused, "I already figured you could do that. It's just that I'm gonna have to eat crow sucking up to Renee to get us both back into her classes."

"Oh, I don't think you'll have any problems with Madame Renee Coulter, dear. Remember what I said when we were dealing with your intrusive Women's Health Instructor?"

"What? You mean that bit about how knowledge is power?"

The smile on her Mother's face was almost frightening. "Yes, that bit. If I went to the trouble of collecting intelligence on that annoying Patricia Wilson, surely you don't think I'd let Renee Coulter slip away from me? Especially after that crap she pulled on you last summer? Trust me, Christie. You won't be the one dining on crow."