note: This is an unfinished story I have hung on to for two years.
Mind, Body and Spirit
by
Paula Dillon
Fifteen year old Charlie walked into Kim Young-Soo’s Karate Dojang, carrying his forty five pound gear bag. The gear bag, which had seemed so heavy years ago, he gave no notice to these days. Charlie was five foot seven feet tall and one hundred and forty pounds of muscle and bones, with less than five percent body fat.
He took off his shoes and placed them in his box, before heading directly to the men’s dressing room. Donny Colt was there and already dressing. Charlie and Donnie were both first red belts and were getting ready to test for black belt, in three weeks. That meant they both were working extremely hard to get it done right.
Donnie was an eighteen year old, dark skin, black kid, who was a hair under six feet and a biscuit over two hundred and twenty pounds. Donnie’s bicep was bigger around than Charlie’s thigh, and on top of that, you would have to work hard at finding an ounce of fat anywhere on his muscular body.
Charlie thanked God, each day he came to the dojang, that he and Donnie were friends. It would not go well for little Charlie if Donnie hated him. It hurt just holding the heavy bag for Donnie, while he was practicing his kicks and punches.
Charlie took the tag end of his red belt in his left hand and wrapped the belt twice around his waist, before tying the square knot. He straightened and adjusted his dobok, before looking up at Donnie.
“Man, you know they are going to work our asses into the ground today,” Donnie said.
Charlie chuckled and smiled at Donnie, “Yeah, we’ve got our black belt test in less than a month. They are going to be all over our sorry asses, like flies on stink.”
“Let’s go do this Man.”
“Right on.”
Charlie started to reach down to pick up his gear bag, when Donnie picked up Charlie with one arm and tucked him into his hip and picked up both their heavy gear bags with his other arms.
“Put me down you stupid goon,” Charlie complained. “You’re a sorry sack of shit, you know that?”
Donnie just ignored the loud complaints of his smaller friend and headed into the dojang, with Charlie complaining all the way. He dropped the bags besides the mat and headed out to the center of the mat.
“GOMAN! (stop) CHARYUT!(attention)” rang out.
Donnie un-ceremoniously dropped Charlie on the floor and snapped to attention, facing the Korean flag. Charlie landed with an umph and rolled over, did a ‘kip up’ off the floor, coming to attention facing the flag beside Donnie.
Wilma Davis, their black belt instructor for the day, had to suppress a snicker, as she watched the antics of the pair. There was never a dull moment around those two.
“Kyungnet, (bow) turn bow to Grandfather Kim. Kyungnet. Bow to Master Kim and Young-Soo Kyungnet. Bow to me Kyungnet.”
Wilma turned at attention and faced the three Kim’s sitting. “I present 1 st red belt students Donnie Colt and Charlie McKellar, preparing to test for black belt,” she said and bowed to them. “They will be performing ‘Koryo Poomse’.”
Students, testing for black belt, have to know and be able to demonstrate many Poomse, or forms. They usually have to proficiently perform four or five on test day. They will not know which, of a dozen Poomse, they will have to do, but Koryo is a Poomse they will most definitely have to do well.
Wilma sat in front of the three Kims.
“SIJAK! (begin)” Grandfather Kim’s strong voice rang out.
Donnie and Charlie moved efficiently to the starting position and in unison, they began their form. They had practiced many times doing forms together. During belt tests, students testing for the same belt, often did them together. It saves time, when you have many students testing and the teachers can compare the students, as they move through the forms. Students learn it is best to keep in sync with their fellow students, as they go through the forms step by step. It looks tremendous when they are all together and a student that is out of sync looks like a sore thumb.
Both students dobok (uniform) snapped and popped as they punched, kicked, or blocked their imaginary opponent’s strikes. Frayed sleeves and pant legs are a result of all that popping and snapping and are seen as a badge of honor. Beware of an opponent that has frayed sleeves or pant legs.
Donnie was good at forms, very good in fact, but not quite as good as Charlie. Charlie’s moves were sharper and more correct. They were pure poetry in motion. There was barely a milliseconds time difference in time between the two, as they transitioned from one move to the next and they finished together and bowed.
“Demonstrate poomse one, three, five and eight.” Master Kim commanded. “Sijak!”
The World Taekwondo Federation has a list of forms. The forms can be called out by the teacher by name or by number, in any order the instructors want. Students are required to know them by both name and number.
The two then had to separately demonstrate two weapons. Donnie demonstrated nunchuks (two batons joined by a chain) and tonfa (short batons with a side handle, used in pairs), while Charlie demonstrated bo staff and kamas (short scythe like weapons, used in pairs).
Both students showed an affinity for and demonstrated their weapons well. It would not be a good day, meeting either of them in a dark alley, with evil intent.
Then they all stopped to gear up. Master Kim, Young-Soo, Wilma, Donnie and Charlie all donned their sparring gear, punches, kicks, head gear, mouth pieces and cups for the guys, while Wilma put on a chest guard and a separate chest protector.
Grandfather Kim was the Joo Sim, or referee for the bouts, except for the last bout. First Donnie went up against one of the black belts for three minutes and then he would sit, as Charlie went up against another. Then Donnie faced two black belts and afterwards, Charlie faced two black belts. Lastly, Charlie and Donnie faced each other. Young-Soo would be Joo Sim for this bout and he made them both put on chest protectors, for this last bout, which would last five minutes.
Donnie was training to enter MMA, Mixed Martial Arts competition and to a small degree, had trouble keeping contact to a moderate level. Donnie’s strengths were power and speed, while Charlie’s were quickness, speed, accuracy and agility. Speed and quickness are similar, but not the same. Donnie was fast, almost as fast as Charlie, but Charlie reacted quicker. His quickness and agility, allowed him to avoid, or mitigate, many of Donnie’s attacks. Sparring for points, Charlie wins sixty-five percent of the time. Full contact sparring, Donnie would win at least seventy percent of the time, if not more. Charlie learned a lot about surviving combat from Donnie. Young-Soo would see to it, both kids survived.
Donnie and Charlie were both at it, when Young-Soo called Sijak! They were to fight as hard as they could, while the other black belts, which now included 13 year old junior black belt, Ricky Summers, scored the bout. This was a test of young Ricky Summers and an honor, due to his rank. Young-Soo marked Donnie with a white scarf in his belt, while he marked Charlie with a red scarf. When one or the other scored a stike, Young-Soo would call Kalyeo! (stop). The judges would raise either a red flag, or a white flag, to indicate who got the points, or no flag, if they didn’t see the blow. Young-Soo would only vote in case of a tie.
Charlie’s one job in this bout was staying alive. The points would come, if Donnie didn’t hurt him too badly. He actually scored first, landing a back fist to Donnie’s temple. Charlie’s second job in this bout was to hit hard enough to score, without hurting Donnie too bad. Donnie had a problem, if he was nailed too hard, hit with a cheap shot, or ridiculed by an opponent during a bout, he would begin to rage, like Bruce Banner the Incredible Hulk. Young-Soo knew this and would end the bout at that point. Donnie had gotten better about that, a lot better. Young-Soo was the only reason that Donnie wasn’t in prison at this time. He worked to focus and balance Donnie’s spirit. Charlie would not survive a Donnie Colt rage.
The two contestants showed themselves well and the point spread was kept close. Charlie kept a slim lead over his bigger, stronger opponent as they traded punches and kicks. They were tied toward the end of the bout when Charlie anticipated an opening and dove in, sending a screaming back fist to Donnie’s head. At the same time, Donnie pivoted and loaded a killer sidekick. Unless you had super slow motion capability, it would be hard to say who landed their attack first and would get the score, but Charlie’s back fist landed, stunning Donnie and Donnie’s sidekick landed right on the chest protector, covering Charlie’s ribcage under his left arm. Donnie crumpled where he stood and Charlie went flying and landed in a heap.
There was no need to call Kalyeo! Young-Soo jumped immediately to Donnie, to keep his rage away, while Master Kim moved quickly to see to Charlie.
Charlie wanted to laugh, but it hurt, as Master Kim bent at his waist till his head touched the ground. He looked into Charlie’s eyes and in an English tainted by a Korean accent asked, “Are you still alive, Jeja (student) Charlie?”
Charlie did laugh even though it hurt and said. “I’m not sure Master Kim, did you get the license plate number of that bus that hit me.”
Master Kim still bent funnily said, “Of course. No bus, it was Mack Truck, Donnie Colt. Stay still for a bit, so I can check you out.”
Master Kim kept Charlie face down on the mat, and undid his chest protector, untied his red belt, untied his dobok and gingerly inspected Charlie’s ribs. Many years in many dojangs, gave him an almost x-ray like sense, when it came to detecting broken bones or ribs. Also, many years of getting beaten on, in the dojang, gave Charlie’s bones an almost concrete like structure. Master Kim rubbed Charlie’s sore rib cage a bit, and surprisingly this seemed to help quite a bit.
“No broken bones, I think Jeja Charlie, just lay there for a bit to recover.”
A worried Donnie colt laid down on the mat facing Charlie, “You ok, buddy. I didn’t mean to hit you so hard. I’m sorry, Charlie.”
“I’ll live, I think.” Charlie said, smiling at Donnie.
After a minute or so, Charlie slowly got to his feet. He turned away from the judges and repaired his uniform, and retied his belt. He stood on Young-Soo’s left side, while Donnie stood to his right. Young-Soo then polled the judges. It was two to two, with Wilma and Master Kim voting for Donnie’s kick and Grandfather Kim and Ricky, voting Charlie’s back fist. Instead of breaking the tie, Young-Soo raised both boys’ arms, neither scoring any points causing a draw.
The dojang erupted in applause. The dojang had filled with students coming for their class. They had sat around the mat quietly, while the two boys fought and waited quietly for the decision of the judges. After the applause, the students hurried off to get dressed.
“Charlie, will you be able to teach your class?” Young-Soo asked.
“Yes Sa Bum Nim. I am a little sore, but it is of no consequence.”
“Good, but don’t be ashamed to ask for help, if you need it.”
“I have five new students today, so Donnie will help me at the start.”
“Good, carry on adeunim (son).”
Charlie and Donnie hurried to the dressing rooms, wiped off the sweat, and at least for Charlie, to comb his hair. Donnie had a shaved head. They then got their dobok and belts squared away, then hurried to class.
Charlie, with Donnie’s assistance, then began teaching a group of twenty five kids, new students, white belts and yellow belts. They spent five minutes arranging the class, teaching them the Korean commands, bowing, stances and honorifics. Then came the stetching, the basics of punching and kicking, and putting it all together. Charlie then began to work the students and Donnie went back to work on the heavy bag.
Charlie worked the class as a whole, for forty-five minutes, before dismissing the white belts. He then worked the yellow belts harder, for twenty minutes, to help build their endurance and skills.
Lastly, the class repeated the phrase, “Con Sa Hom Nee Dha Sa Bum Nim (thank you for teaching us, teacher),” to which he replied “Chun Mun A Yoe Jeja (you are welcome students).”
Charlie then went into the back to shower and change into his street clothes. He stripped off the sweaty dobok and looked at himself in the mirror. He had a nasty bruise on his left side. He then took a nice hot shower. The hot water felt good on his left side and he just let the water soothe him, before taking time to soap up, shampoo and rinse off.
Master Kim was there when Charlie finished drying off, “Let me have a look at you, Charlie. That was quite a hit you took.” The old man said, feeling the ribs again and rubbing the sore area. “We were surprised that Donnie didn’t rage, after the hit he took. He was very worried about you.”
“I knew I nailed him, but I hit him harder than I intended. I was worried too.”
“You needn’t have worried, Young-Soo my adeunim, was looking out for you two. Donnie got up and was almost frantic seeing you still on the mat. He has changed in the time he has been with us. Changed for the good. You did will adeunim.”
“Thank you So Ba Nim.”
Charlie felt remarkably well after Master Kim worked with his side.
“Get dressed; We have a meeting with the black and red belts in ten minutes.”
>>>>><<<<<
Charley had to hurry to make the meeting, when they all got there, they began their discussion.
“Ok, we are all here,” Young-Soo began. “For those of you who missed the Thrilla in Manila, we had today, between Charlie McKellar and Donnie Colt, we have it on tape. Charlie is turning 16 next Saturday; we will have a party for him, after classes are over.”
“You don’t have to do that,” Charlie said.
“Are you defying your teacher?” Master Kim asked.
“No, Master Kim.”
“Good, it is good that Donnie didn’t knock all the sense out of you, I see.”
That got all the black belts laughing, along with Donnie.
“We have tests in three weeks, who will be ready?” Young-Soo asked.
The three Kim’s already knew amongst themselves, but they wanted to hear it from their other senior students. They started with the white belts and worked their way to red belts. Grandfather Kim talked about Donnie and Charlie, as if they weren’t there, and the others added what they thought of the two students.
They compiled a list of students testing. There would be eight white belts, four yellow belts, four green belts, five blue belts and two red belts testing.
“Please notify your students,” Young-Soo told them. “Charlie, you may tell the red belts.”
“Donnie, you and I are testing. Please don’t kill me.”
“I’ll try not to,” Donnie said, giving the smaller boy a knuckle rub on the head.
“Now, we will talk about trouble students.” Young-Soo said.
“Just one that I know of,” Wilma said.
The others there just nodded.
“Robert ‘Tad’ Green,” Wilma continued, “He is still kind of a bad apple. He hasn’t done anything overt to be kicked out yet, but he likes to hit other students a lot harder than he has too. He could test this quarter, but he is just so-so in forms. Like I said though, he really likes sparring.”
Master Kim knew of Tad’s problems. He had seen the boy change a little, but he was more dangerous in some ways than Donnie. Donnie at least tries to control himself.
“I am not ready to kick the boy out of school yet, I feel he still might have a part in the scheme of things. He does bear watching, we are not a school that teaches bullies. Charlie, can you be here when he takes his lessons?”
“Yes, Master Kim, it will be my honor to do so.”
They talked about other things for ten more minutes, before the meeting broke up. Young-Soo’s parting words were, “We will discuss and make the needed arrangements for the upcoming test after the birthday party. We will have the same weekday class schedule and start planning for our summer schedule, next Saturday. Take care and have a good week.”
As the group broke up, many of the people there had a good word for Charlie and Donnie. The guys gave them pats on the back and Wilma and Francis, gave the boys hugs.
Amanda McKellar smiled, as she saw her son come out of the meeting. She had been talking with Kim Young-Ja, the students called him Grandfather. She didn’t like the sport her son had chosen, it was the violence of the sport and the chance of injury, that turned her off, but she let him do it anyway. He had a mind of his own and he was very good at Karate. She gave him her whole hearted support.
Charlie smiled, as he picked up his gear bag. It seemed a little heavier now though. He went over to his mom and gave her a big hug.
“How were your classes, Charlie?”
“They were great Mom; I am really looking forward to testing. Also we had five new white belts start tonight; they look like a pretty good bunch.”
“Don’t forget your other finals this week, Charlie. You do have to pass your tests at school.”
“I will Mom, I will have four A’s and two B’s.”
“You should try for six A’s, son.”
“Yeah I know, but I’m not a world history buff and the government is so screwed up now, I know the world doesn’t need another politician. On top of that, those two teachers cast a spell of sleep on the class.”
Amanda giggled as her son described his government teacher and his world history teacher, “I can just see your history teacher. She has a beaked nose and a pointy hat. She has a boiling cauldron on her desk and stirs it as she casts a spell of somnolence over the classroom.”
“Yes, that’s her, did you have her for World History too!” Charlie said, laughing.
“You are too much Charlie, let’s go, before I kick your butt.”
Charlie feigned fear and hustled out to the car.
>>>>><<<<<
At home Charlie hustled up to his room and changed into just a pair of Spandex compression shorts, basketball shorts and a sports tank, whose armholes had been extended almost to his waist.
His Mom was sitting in an armchair reading a book, with the TV on. Charlie grabbed the remote and laid back on the couch using his left arm as a pillow. Amanda looked over at him, her eyes raised just above the half lenses of her reading glasses. Like all moms, her internal radar was on overdrive, the pupils of her eyes narrowed and she focused on the large bruise on the side of his rib cage. She got up out of her chair and went over to investigate it. The bruise was at a slight angle and covered parts of five ribs. It was just starting to significantly darken.
“Charlie, what on earth happened to you?”
“Nothing really, I was just sparring with Donnie, I nailed him with a back fist and he hit me with a glancing blow from a sidekick.”
“I don’t think that was a glancing blow and if it was, he could have killed you with that kick.”
She poked the center of the bruise and watched her son’s reaction. He didn’t. How could a bruise that ugly not hurt? Amanda had her son sit up and take off his shirt, so she could get a better look.
“It bothers me that you could get hurt son. I know I said that I won’t pull you out of karate and I won’t, but I wish you would rethink about it, Charlie.”
“I like karate and I am very good at it.”
“Not good enough to not get hurt. Then think about not sparring with Donnie. That boy is almost a grown Man. He is so big, he scares me sometimes. Can’t you get him to take it a little easier?”
“Can’t do that Mom. Donnie and I will have to spar on test day and we have to give it a serious effort to pass. We can’t take it easy on each other. You’re going to be there, right?”
“You know I will be there. I may have to look away or shield my eyes when you are fighting, but I will be there with my video camera.”
>>>>><<<<<
Tuesday, after school, Charlie ran the ten blocks to the dojang. He was going to meet Donnie to learn some more Jiu Jitsu. That was one of the many martial arts Donnie was learning in preparation to entering a UFC school. Donnie was currently a brown belt in a Brazilian Jiu Jitsu.
While this extra work wasn’t a required part of their Taekwondo classes, Master Kim encouraged many students to learn how other martial arts are performed. It is a shock to some students to find out that they can be beaten by other disciplines. Master Kim even had a street fighter come to school to give a demonstration.
Jiu Jitsu, at least as far as competition goes, is a grappling/submission form of martial arts. It uses many joint locks, bone breaking, grappling holds, and chokes. It can be very deadly or debilitating, just as Taekwondo can be. Police departments use many of the submission holds to subdue recalcitrant offenders.
Donnie was showing Charlie some of the things he knew about six months earlier, while nobody else was around. Donnie was demonstrating a hip toss to arm bar. Grandfather Kim came in unseen and soon he was teaching the two of them the right way and kicking their asses while doing it. Grandfather Kim spent an hour teaching Charlie how to fall and he enjoyed doing it, Grandfather Kim that is.
Grandfather Kim regaled them with stories of when he was with Republic of Korea Army and his time teaching them self-defense, hand to hand combat, knife combat, and physical conditioning. Being that Kim Young-Ja was in his early eighties, and was taking two teens, two teens that just happen to be first red belts in Taekwondo, to the woodshed, was saying something. Both Donnie and Charlie were sore after that. Anyway, once a week, the two would get together and practice Jiu Jitsu with either Grandfather, or Master Kim, working with them.
It was another hour and a half of torture, but both boys stood up to it. They worked on grappling, to get an advantage over their opponent. The explanations seemed easy to hear, but the execution with a struggling opponent, was anything but easy. They worked from the guard and half-guard positions and learned many techniques to gain an advantage, from either the top or the bottom.
“In Jiu Jitsu, there are two times when one can more easily escape out of a bad position or hold. The first, is when your opponent is trying to initially lock up his hold and the second, is when he is trying to adjust his hold and make it a stronger hold,” Master Kim stated. “Once the hold is in place, it can be very hard, or next to impossible, to break. Always try to keep an out open for yourself, never stop struggling to resist a hold, till you can’t stand it and then tap out. In a fight for your life, never give up,” Master Kim told his two charges.
In class that night, Charlie assisted Wilma in teaching the middle belts. He had to spar with Tad tonight, because it had been decided that he would only be allowed to spar with capable black or red belts. They weren’t going to let any other of their students face Tad.
Tad could hit hard, very hard in fact and he didn’t seem to want to pull his punches and kicks. Charlie got tagged a time or two, but Tad didn’t hit nearly as hard as Donnie, so he was ok. Charlie was like a giant hornet when he was up against Tad. He was very hard to hit and he had a very good sting when he wanted to hit Tad. When he hit Tad, he did pull his punches. He wasn’t out to hurt the dude.
Tad got very frustrated. He laid a few good licks on Charlie, licks that would have hurt other students. Charlie just wore that goofy smile on his face and he would dodge the next blow and hit Tad at will with a punch or a kick. Tad even tried to grab and hit the smaller boy, without any luck at all.
Wilma let the two go on for over seven minutes, till she had mercy on Tad and called for a break. Tad just collapsed on the ground and tried to catch his breath. Charlie did a back flip and went into a full Chinese split. Just inches from the gasping 6 th green belt.
Tad pulled out his mouth-piece and gasped, “God… I… hate you… Charlie.”
Charlie took out his mouth-piece and asked, “Why, what did I ever do to you, Tad?”
Tad just laid there till he got the strength to stand up and walk away.
>>>>><<<<<
Thursday Charlie completed the last of his test for high school and had another night class with Tad. He even took pity on the other boy and let him seem to be hit hard. When Tad wasn’t angry, which wasn’t often, he had a decent form to his techniques. The only reason he wasn’t a blue belt yet though, was his lack of progress in learning his poomse (forms). He would have been put up for testing if he had just been average or even a little below average. He would forget the order of the steps, or turn the wrong direction, or his execution of the technique was sloppy.
The black and red belts had a meeting that night after class and talked about Tad. After a lively discussion, they decided to keep Tad on as a student, but still limited his sparring to a handful of black and red belts. Charlie was on the list, but Wilma, Rickey and Donnie weren’t. Wilma and Rickey were off the list because Tad might hurt them, Donnie was off the list, because they were afraid he might hurt Tad very badly.
>>>>><<<<<
Friday was freedom day, high school was out at noon and Charlie almost sprinted home. Monday he would start earning two hundred fifty dollars a week over seeing the dojang’s summer program, for kids six to fourteen. He had time to swim in the pool at home, for an hour or so, before he had to leave to meet Donnie at the dojang.
There were kids running around and playing already, when he turned onto his street. He had to stop to catch a thrown football and pass it back to the boys. Some small girls were playing hopscotch or tag. Everything was going well till he got near his home.
Mr. Pritchard had a home, two houses down and across the street from Charlie. Mr. Pritchard was paranoid and had just bought a new adult Pit bull for home protection. Mrs. Pritchard had left the front solid core door open and left the tempered glass entry door shut.
Some kids had just run across the Pritchard’s lawn. Tinkerbell, what a name for a pit bull, it should have turned on its master just for calling it Tinkerbell, exploded through the tempered glass and was after the kids who trespassed on its master’s property. Charlie immediately ran towards the dog. The dog won the foot race and knocked the boy down, in the middle of the street. He skidded just past the boy and turned on him again. The boy covered up his head and neck; that was probably what saved him. Tinkerbell latched onto one of the boy’s arm and began to shake him about, like a rag doll.
Charlie couldn’t kick or punch the dog without hurting the boy, but he reacted without hesitation. He fell on top of the dog, stunning him. The dog still had the boy’s bleeding arm in his mouth. Charlie did a back mount on the dog and snaked his arm around the dog’s neck into a rear naked chokehold. When he grabbed his own arm, Charlie clamped down with all of his might. It seemed like an hour, but was only about ten seconds, till the dog released the boy. A passerby pulled the child away, but Charlie kept his hold on the dog. Mr. Pritchard came out and tried to get Charlie off the struggling dog. He even kicked Charlie in the ribs once or twice. The boy’s big brother knocked Mr. Pritchard down on the ground and kept him off of Charlie.
It was close to three minutes later till Charlie released his hold on the dog. His arms were sore from all the strain the hold had put on him. He just laid back next to the dead dog. He could hear the siren of an ambulance or fire truck coming in the distance. Within three minutes, an engine crew (fire engine crew), an ambulance with EMT’s and a police car had all arrived.
EMT’s first dealt with Jimmy Wilson, the boy that had been bitten. The engine crew looked over Charlie, while the police officer and his Sgt. began questioning witnesses. Mr. Pritchard was shouting at the officers to arrest Charlie for killing his dog. He was so pissed that he had to be restrained and placed in the back of a patrol car.
There was a car that had almost hit Charlie, as he crossed the road to attack the dog. The lady that was driving it gave the most complete blow-by-blow description of events. In fact, she had sacrificed her nice off-white linen jacket, to help staunch the bleeding from Jimmy’s arm. The officers, after hearing her account, then placed Mr. Pritchard under arrest. Lastly Sgt. Whitcomb talked to Charlie.
“You’re Charlie McKellar right?” Sgt. Whitcomb asked.
“Yes sir.”
“Are you all right?”
“My arms are sore and my left side hurts, the firemen want me to go get x-rays, but I think I am all right.”
“You will be taken to the hospital, you were assaulted. Now you need to tell me what had happened.”
“I had just turned the corner, Billy Brooks threw a football to me and I threw it back. I almost made it home,” Charlie said, pointing to his home, “when I saw this pit bull bust through a glass door and run after some kids. I just reacted. I ran up to them and the dog was shaking Jimmy around. I fell on the dog and did a back mount. I then executed a rear naked chokehold on the dog for I don’t know how long. The dog was dead when I let up on him, I wasn’t about to let go and have to fight him again. I was so focused; I didn’t know what was happening around me. I do know somebody kicked me, but I can’t say who though.”
“That’s all I need except for a parent’s phone number. The fire lieutenant will have my hide if I don’t let him take you to a hospital.”
“555-6436. My Mom is Amanda McKellar; she is a Para-legal for McKenzie, Davis and Lee. I don’t need to go to the hospital.”
“Shit! It sucks to be Mr. Pritchard today. Don’t argue with me on that son, just go with Lieutenant James.”
The fireman just gave the boy a hand up into the pumper truck and climbed in after him. On the way to the hospital, Charlie called Young-Soo up on his cell phone.
“Hello, Kim Young-Soo’s Karate. Young-Soo speaking.”
“Hi Mr. Kim, this is Charlie, I won’t be in tonight.”
“Why Charlie?”
“Well, I am on my way to the hospital. There was a dog attack in my neighborhood.”
“Did the dog hurt you?”
“No, I wasn’t directly attacked by the dog. I stopped the dog attack, my arms are sore from that. I held a rear naked chokehold on the dog, for I don’t know how long. The dog is dead. I was kicked in the ribs by the dog’s owner, so I was told. The police and the firemen insisted that I go to the hospital. The guy kicked like a girl. I am ok, but…”
“You should go to the hospital. Do what you are told. Does your mother know?”
“The police called her.”
“Good, Master Kim will see you at hospital. Bye.”
“Bye,” Charlie said to a dial tone.
The engine had to stop away from the turnaround. The engine was more than a little too long to make the turn. An orderly with a wheel chair met them. Charlie complained that he didn’t need the wheel chair, but it was like talking to a brick wall. The orderly wheeled Charlie to the Emergency room and into a treatment room. He got to see his mother a half hour before he saw the doctor. The doctor had a report from the Sgt. Whitcomb. He checked Charlie out, commenting on the bruising and sent him to radiology for an x-ray. He sat and waited after the x-ray and was sent back to radiology for a bone density test.
An hour later the doctor came back in.
“Well, am I going to live, Doctor?” Charlie asked.
“Oh ah, most certainly, you will live. I just wanted to check something out. I couldn’t believe how opaque your bones were to x-rays. I haven’t seen such bone density before. Are you into martial arts?”
“Yes, I am in, Taekwondo.”
“Did you go through Iron shirt discipline?”
“I don’t think so. What is that?”
“Well, it is a method to toughen the body up. I understand that it involves striking the body with objects to cause micro-fractures that heal up. The bones heal back stronger and denser.”
“Nope I haven’t done that.”
“Well you may never have to worry about a broken bone. I am just amazed.”
“I can go?”
“Yes, there isn’t a thing wrong with you. I just have some muscle relaxers for your sore arms. Take one and only one, every eight to ten hours. Take at least three of them. You should be alright in a day or two and I have some Tylenol #3 for the pain.”
“How is Jimmy Wilson? He is the boy that suffered that dog attack.”
“I can only say that he is in surgery right now and that it will be a while before we will know anything.”
Amanda and her son left the ER. They were surprised to see about a dozen people from the dojang there, including Grandfather Kim, Master Kim, Donnie, Wilma and even little Ricky. Charlie went to meet his friends. He stopped and went into a defensive position when he heard, “There he is Mom, that’s the boy that killed that dog.”
A crying Delores Wilson almost ran Charlie over as she hugged the boy, “Thank you for saving my little Jimmy. I don’t know how you did it Charlie, that was an awfully big dog, but thank you.” Delores then turned to Amanda for support and to talk to another mother.
David Wilson picked Charlie up in a bear hug. “Thank you, Charlie.”
“Oww, ow, watch the ribs please.”
“Sorry, I forgot.”
“How is your brother, David?” Charlie asked, after he was put down.
“He is in surgery. The doctors are trying to save his arm. He may lose it Charlie.” David said, crying.
“I’m sorry, David. I tried to save him.”
“You did Charlie. That dog could have killed him.”
Charlie was then mobbed by his friends; he received lots of pats on his back and he was surprised as hell when Grandfather and Master Kim bowed to him. Everyone talked together for about a half hour. Amanda and Charlie stayed with Delores and David. They were joined by Brian Wilson, the boy’s father. It was after midnight when a tired surgeon came out to talk to the Wilsons.
“Mr. Wilson, your son will live, of that we are as sure as we can be. He lost a lot of blood, but the first aide he received was outstanding. You need to thank whoever stopped the bleeding. The tissues of the arm, were blood starved for a period of time. The main danger right now is the circulation in his arm and infection. Infections we can fight, but if the circulation doesn’t return, he may yet loose the arm. We won’t know for several days to a week. Jimmy’s humorous was all but crushed. We patched the bone back together as best we could, cleaned out all the extraneous bone chips and used a calcium cement to bind it together. We then put a rod in to protect the bone. We will worry about scaring and plastic surgery, when we know that the arm is safe. There will be a degree of nerve damage, somewhere from moderate to severe and it will never be as good as it was. Jimmy may be in the hospital for two or three weeks, minimum. We’re just not sure right now.” the doctor said. “I wish I had better news.”
“Thank you, Doctor,” Mr. Wilson said. “We’ll worry about the arm later, at least my son is alive. That boy over there,” he said, pointing Charlie, “got the dog off of our son. There was a lady who gave him first aide. I just can’t believe how much damage that dog did in just seconds.”
Well that lady, just as much saved Jimmy’s life, as Charlie did by getting that dog off of him. There was extensive arterial damage to his arm. He might have bled to death, without that first aide.”
Amanda and Charlie stayed for a little while and then left to get some rest.
>>>>><<<<<
Saturday was Charlie’s birthday; they got up around ten that day. Amanda took Charlie out to eat at one of those twenty-four hour restaurants. Charlie picked up a newspaper to read, while they waited for their food. Some of the people were looking him and his mom, whispering amongst themselves, as the two of them walked towards the back to sit at a booth. Charlie’s ears were definitely itching.
They ordered drinks as they perused the menu. Charlie really didn’t need to peruse the menu, as he ordered the same big breakfast that he always ordered. He then took time to look at the newspaper.
“Oh my god, mother,” Charley said as he showed his mom the front page of the newspaper. There on the lower right of the front page were two pictures of Charlie. One picture was of him sitting on the diamond plate step of the fire engine and the other was of Charlie posing in his dobok wearing his 2 nd red belt. It had been taken just after he had tested for his red belt eight months or so earlier. There was a seven column inch article, which is a lot for a story, on the front page. It also had an interview with Brian and Delores Wilson and one from Master Kim. He must have given them the photo.
When the teenage waitress came to the table with their food she asked, “That is you on the cover of the paper, isn’t it? You’re Charlie McKellar aren’t you?”
“Yes, that is me,” Charlie said, clearly embarrassed at all the attention.
“You are a hero, Charlie.”
“I didn’t do anything special. I just saw something that needed to be done and did it.”
“Still, I go to school with David. I couldn’t imagine having something like that happen to my sister. Don’t put yourself down; you are a hero. I could never have gotten a pit bull off of someone.”
>>>>><<<<<
Amanda took her son to the dojang and went inside with him. It seemed like everybody that went to the school was there and they all applauded as he came back into the back. Grandfather called everyone to attention and called for them to bow to the boy. Charlie just stood there shaking for a few seconds and returned the bow.
Young-Soo came up to Charlie, “Charlie, we are very proud of you. You may think that what you did wasn’t extraordinary, but it was. Too often in our society we suffer from what is called a diffusion of responsibility. People wait on other people who are around to do something. There are not enough people that run to a disaster, most people run away. It isn’t that they are cowards, rather it is that they aren’t prepared to pay the cost that intervention may require and a lack of preparation to intervene. What you did is fully in line with the philosophy of the World Taekwondo Federation. While the world may believe in might is right, we believe in Might for Right. We want to present you with a plague in honor of what you did. Thank You.”
Young-Soo was then handed a plaque and he read it out to everyone. “This is to acknowledge that first Red Belt Charlie McKellar, at great risk to his own person, saved a fellow human beings life. He brought honor to himself, to Kim Young-Soo’s Karate and to everyone who holds life precious.”
For about twenty-five minutes everyone congratulated Charlie, pictures were taken and newspapers were autographed. Charlie was immensely embarrassed by all the attention, but played along with everyone.
Master Kim soon brought the festivities to an end and made sure everyone knew they had work to do. First it was time for Charlie to have a bout. He was eager to spar with Donnie, but he was surprised to hear that he was fighting Little Ricky Summers.
“Aw do I hafta. Jee, I’ll need a motorcycle to keep up with that little fart,” Charlie said, laughing. “Can I at least weigh him down with fifty pounds or tie his legs together.”
Where Charlie was sometimes referred to as the Giant Hornet, Little Ricky was the mosquito. Charlie was in no danger of being hurt, as Ricky just didn’t have enough power or will to hurt anyone. The three Kim’s were trying to find anyway they could, to get Ricky used to hitting anybody harder. The big thing about Ricky was where Charlie was fast and quick, Ricky was faster and quicker. Charlie knew it was going to be entertaining.
After Charlie and Ricky both stretched out and warmed up, they both got their punches, kicks and mouthpieces. That is all these two would need. Wilma was the Joo Sim or referee for this bout and after both kids were ready, they did their bows, assumed a ready stance and when she shouted, “Sijak,” it was on.
Charlie spent most of the next eight minutes or so just trying to get close enough to the little fart to just land a blow. He was kind to the younger boy when he did tag him. Ricky tagged Charlie plenty of times and as the minutes went by, he had to hit Charlie harder to keep him off of him, “Damn, slow down you little fart, let me hit you real good at least once, boy.” Charlie spat.
“Not in a pig’s eye Charlie,” Ricky shouted back, while dodging about. “Catch me if you can.”
Charlie had a better chance of catching the wind so to speak.
The two of them touched every square inch of the mat several times. Wilma only stopped the bout a few times, when there was a particularly good blow landed. She would acknowledge the persons effort and see if the other person was fit to continue. Ricky could back pedal faster than Charlie could go forward it seemed. Both kids were exhausted when Master Kim finally shouted, “Kalyeo!” Charlie felt like he had sprinted a mile or two and fell to the mat to catch his breath. Ricky stuck his head in Charlie’s face and just smiled. Ricky was tired too, but he wasn’t going to show that to Charlie.
“Dang it Ricky, if you ever learned to hit harder, you would be one bad dude. You would run an opponent to death and finish them off, after they collapsed.”
Ricky couldn’t help it, he just tagged Charlie on the shoulder and scurried out of reach, “You know it Charlie.”
The next bout was entertaining to everybody. The first time in a long time Donnie had to face Grandfather Kim on the mat. It was quite a sight seeing an eighty-year old man put the hurt on the boy. Grandfather Kim took one of Donnie’s best punches and just shook it off. Grandfather smiled, as he got to remember how it was back in Korea in the fifties and sixties. The match didn’t last long, Master Kim took pity on Donnie.
When the two boys had recovered, they had to design a breaking routine for test day. Charlie would be breaking boards. He had one student hold four, one by twelve, by twelve boards, waist high, with both hands. Another student, held a board by two fingers, head high, by the first student’s right side. Charlie turned, took a step and positioned another student with a head high board, by two fingers. Across from him, another student, held two boards, held by two hands. A few steps away another student, held four boards, in two hands and lastly, a student on a ladder, held one board about seven feet off the floor, by two fingers.
He then turned to the black belts, “Ok, left foot sidekick power break, a ridge hand speed break, round kick speed break, an elbow power break, spinning hook kick power break and a jump 360 hook kick impulse break.”
The black belts approved.
Charlie positioned himself assumed a ready position and Master Kim shouted, “Sijak!”
Charlie took two steps forward and landed a front leg sidekick, breaking four boards. He stepped forward with his right foot and threw a ridge hand, with his right hand, breaking the board. He reversed, took three steps back, round kick, break, changed direction and broke two boards with an elbow strike. He spun as he crossed the floor, hook kick, break, step, jump, 360 hook kick, break. This took all of eleven seconds.
Donnie chose to power break pegged bricks (brick stacked with spacers between each brick.) This is harder to do, as the breaker has to power through each brick. He had five stacks, of four bricks and one of six. He broke them with a punch, a double forearm smash on two stacks, a hammer blow, knife strike, and an axe kick, breaking six bricks. Donnie broke everything in style and had a broad smile on his face.
After the breaking, Donnie and Charlie split the white and yellow belt classes. Donnie took the students who were testing in two weeks and Charlie taught the rest of the students. The classes last an hour and a half. Charlie worked his class almost to the point exhaustion. Charlie smiled, as he saw as he had seen the effort most of his students gave him. This was a very good class. Donnie worked his harder because they were up for their tests.
As the classes bowed out and thanked their teachers, they heard someone shout, “Charyut!” Everyone snapped to attention. Grandfather Kim, Master Kim and Young-Soo had just entered the dojang. Charlie called for everyone to turn to them and bow. After the students bowed, the three Kims parted and a birthday cake was brought in by several senior students and set on a table.
Amanda and other friends of Charlie came in, including Brian and Delores Wilson and their son. Also in the group was the mayor of the city, Clay Carlson, the district Fire Chief, Matt Davis the Police Chief Arnold Wainwright, the latter two in full dress. They were all signing Happy Birthday as they came in. Charlie was then presented a Civilian Certificate of Valor.
For the next hour they all had a good time. Charlie found himself saran wrapped to a chair, blew out the candles on his cake and fed his share of the cake by Valerie Stevens, a sixteen year old, fifth green belt, who has a crush on Charlie. He didn’t know it, although most of the girls at the school knew it. The girls giggled behind his back, “Guys can just be so dense, at times,” even his mother knew and she just smiled.
He was finally released to open his presents. He just couldn’t believe all the presents he received. Everybody applauded as he exposed and held up each present, thanked the giver and then repeated the process. He was embarrassed by the extravagance and expense of some of the presents.
The Wilson’s gift was last; they first thanked him, then told him what the doctors said, that Jimmy’s arm seemed to be getting better. He still had a long recovery, but they now had hope. Brian gave Charlie the keys to a 2008 BMW 318 convertible. It was one sweet car they said, when they went out to look at it. Charlie tried to turn them down. He didn’t have a license yet and it was just too much. Brian was a prime BMW salesman, he said he took the car in trade and his dealer gave it too him to give to Charlie, when he heard what the boy had done. The car was detailed out to a ‘T’ and looked simply glorious. It only had thirty thousand miles on the odometer.
Young-Soo offered to drive Charlie home, after the black belt meeting and Amanda accepted his offer. She loaded up Charlie’s gifts in her car, along with the left over cake.
The black belt meeting was long tonight, Young-Soo helped plan the summer schedule with the red belts and 1 st degree black belts, while Grandfather Kim and Master Kim planned the belt test, with the rest of the black belts.
Charlie got home after eight thirty. Amanda opened the garage door and Young-Soo parked Charlie’s Beemer next to Amanda’s two year old Chrysler 300, and after parting words, Master Kim drove his son away.
>>>>><<<<<
Amanda checked on her son after he went to sleep. She found what she dreaded, what she had expected all along. She rubbed his back and triggered the change, before she kissed his cheek, shedding a tear and leaving him to his dreams. Amanda had a lot of weaving to do.
>>>>><<<<<
Charlie woke the next morning and stumbled into the bathroom. He was usually a morning person, but right now his mind was in a fog. He sat down and took care of business, wiping before he stood. Something was strange and different, it wasn’t till he got his toothbrush and tooth paste, and was looking in the mirror, that things snapped together. It was like the fog parted and instead of seeing himself in the mirror, he saw this very pretty girl. Only, it wasn’t a girl, it was Charlie, no Christie, he thought.
Christie just dropped the toothbrush into the sink, calmly turned and walked out of the bathroom. She only paused long enough to grab her brightly colored silk kimono robe, which she was putting on, as she walked downstairs to find her mother.
“Mother, Mother, where are you?” Christie asked, a lot more calmly than she felt inside. She was amazed that she was shouting her head off.
“In here, baby, what do you need?”
“Mother, something terrible happened last night, or I am going out of my mind and I am a lunatic.”
“You are not going out of your mind and you’re not a lunatic. Please sit down at the breakfast table and eat your breakfast. We have a lot to talk about.”
“But Mom…”
“Sit and eat, all will be made clear to you, dear.”
Christy recognized her Mom’s strong-headed determination. There would be no explanations till she was ready to talk and that kind of talk would wait till they were both through eating breakfast. They did talk as they ate, but it was on things like the weather, what she thought about this news item or that play or movie. Christie buttered her toast and poured out a half a cup of toasted oat O’s, with half a cup of wheat bran. Inside, she was halfway calm, but she wanted to be screaming and shouting. How can her Mom be so nonchalant about things? Her mom heck, why was she so calm about all of this?
When she and her Mom finished eating, Amanda said. Put your dishes in the sink and come with me to the living room, we need to talk.
Christie put her things in the sink and followed her Mom into the living room. They both sat on the couch.
“Christie, I know you have a thousand questions, but first listen for a few minutes, okay?”
“Yes Ma’am.”
“Good. You aren’t going crazy. Yesterday you were a boy named Charlie and today you are a girl named Christie. Do you understand that?”
“Yes Ma’am.”
Amanda smiled and looked deeply into Christie’s eyes, “The short explanation is usually the best in these situations. I am a sorceress and I have magical powers. You’re becoming aware of many of these things for the first time today. When I, or another sorceress has a male child, there is a potential for that male child to transform and come into power themselves. It is a one in two, shot. I know that you have been studying genetics in school and you can recognize that as a single dominant trait, girls that are born can have only a single dominant trait. All this means is, one of my X genes has a trait for magic.”
“We don’t know whether or not that child can become a sorcerer or a sorceress, till the trigger appears. That trigger doesn’t appear until the child’s sixteenth birthday.”
“Yesterday was my sixteenth birthday,” Christy said.
“Yes, that is right. I always knew you were sharp. Anyway, I sat by you last night and when I detected the trait, I triggered the transformation in you.”
“So you turned me into a girl, Mom? Wasn’t I a good enough boy? Did you feel you had to turn my life upside down, just because of this?”
Amanda didn’t get mad, she knew what a devastating thing this could be, “Christie, I wouldn’t have done it unless it was necessary and I didn’t change you into a girl. It was the magic that choose your form. Seventy-five percent of the boys that have this trait are turned into girls and twenty five percent of the girls with this trait become boys. These girls are considered lucky, because girls transformed into boys are usually more powerful and easier to train. It is the same way with the boys turned into girls. Transformed individuals are stronger in magic and learn it easier and quicker.”
“So now I am stuck as a girl and will have to live out my life as a girl,” Christie said, in a disgruntled tone.
“No dear, you are not stuck as a girl. There are some lessons for you to learn, before you can start your magical training and the first major magic you can perform, can be your transformation back into a boy, albeit a year older boy on your seventeenth birthday.”
“How am I going to be able to go to school and live as a girl? Everybody thinks I am a boy named Charlie?”
“Do they, think back. What did Christie not Charlie do last weekend?”
Surprised by the question, it took Christie about five seconds to answer her Mom, “After Ballet class you and I got dressed and went to Philadelphia to go shopping, out to eat and to the ballet.”
“Good and what did you do on your twelfth birthday, Christie.”
“We took a train to New York and stayed in a hotel there, we went out to eat at Le Bernardin and then we went to the Met to watch the Bolshoi Ballet Company dance Giselle.”
“Good. Your memory is intact. Christie I am sorry this happened to you at the time it happened, but you have the life you would have had if you were born a girl. Everybody who knows Christie, knows that she is a very pretty girl.”
“So Young-Soo and the rest know me as Christie?”
“I am afraid not, Christie has taken ballet since she was eight years old. She never took Karate.”
“Why Mom, why did you have to do this? Wasn’t I a good enough boy for you? Did you have to do this?”
Amanda had anticipated this question, she had even asked the same question so many years ago. How best to answer it? “Wait here Christie. Let me go get something.” Amanda went to her room; she came back and set two plastic boxes on the coffee table in front of Christie. “Do you know what is in those two boxes, Christie?”
“Yes Ma’am. Inside the larger gray box you have a Ruger P 95 9mm semi-automatic pistol. Inside the other box is a gun cleaning kit. You taught me how to shoot years ago, Mom.”
“Yes, I taught my son, Charlie and my daughter, Christie, both how to shoot. I want you to clean the weapon, Christie.”
“May I have the key, Mom?”
Amanda dug in her purse and pulled out her key chain and handed it to Christie. Christie took the keys and unlocked the box and looked to her left, “Mom, would you please sit on my right side. You are in the way.”
It was good to see that Christie was as careful as Charlie was. The gun inside the box was pointing to Christie’s left.
Christie opened the box and took the gun out of the case. She removed the magazine, which she put on the table and carefully cycled the slide, which ejected another round into her hand. Christie took that round and inserted it into the magazine. She then pulled the slide back on the pistol several times, before inspecting the chamber. Seeing that the gun was unloaded, she pulled the slide release pin and removed the slide. She then removed the recoil spring and the barrel. She carefully inspected everything for cracks and wear, before she began cleaning and oiling. She reassembled the pistol, pointing the barrel in a safe direction, reinserted the magazine, cycled the slide to load one round into the chamber and pressing the de-cocking safety lever. She then laid the pistol back in its place in the box.
“What is that lever?”
“It is the de-cock safety lever.”
“Why did you depress that lever?”
“Because no matter how safe a gun maybe, with the hammer back, there could always be some freak accident and the gun could go off accidentally.”
“That is right. Charlie was like that gun with the hammer back, only worse. I did nothing but to make him safe. If I hadn’t done that, sometime in the future, the gun inside of Charlie could have gone off and Charlie could have been transformed without the benefit of the spells I cast while you slept. Christie would have emerged without a calming spell and without a history. I could have come back later and picked up the pieces, but things could have happened, permanent kind of things, things like dying, because you went crazy wondering what happened. Christie, you don’t know how painful that was to me to have to pull that trigger, but it was better that I do it then, than to have it just happen and it would eventually have happened.”
“Well why didn’t you tell me, or warn me?”
“Think about how that would happen, Christie. Hey Charlie, I got something to tell you. You might not believe it, but you may wake up as a girl tomorrow, Charlie,” Amanda said. “You didn’t believe in magic till today, I bet?”
“Well, how am I going to live after today? There’s a lot of things I don’t know about being a girl.”
“You have training wheels. You know as much about being a girl right now, as Charlie knew about being Charlie yesterday. You just need to do it, don’t think about it. Let me prove it.”
“I am putting a small compulsion on you. Tonight, we are going to have dinner at Donatello’s at seven with your grandmother. Get yourself ready by then. Right now I am extremely tired and I need some sleep. Wake me at five and then get yourself ready. In the meantime, resolve your memories,” Amanda said, kissing Christie’s forehead. “Oh and don’t worry. Nothing will disturb you today. You also have what I call a valium spell on you. So you will be calm enough to think rationally.”
Christie had wondered why she was acting so calmly, well now she knew. She didn’t like what her mom had said, but the way she explained it, made sense. On top of that, her mom did look exhausted. “Go get some rest Mom, I will be alright.”
“I know sweetie. I know you will.”
Christie sat there for an hour, and thought about Christie’s life. So she was in ballet, she thought. She went to her room and opened her pink gear bag and instead of Charlie’s white gear bag, his weapons, punches’ kicks and sweaty dobok (uniform), she had ballet slippers, toe shoes, sweaty leotard, tights, bun covers, makeup, tampons, bras, panties and etc… How did she forget to take her sweaty things out and wash them last night? She got up and did them. She cleaned out her bag and took everything that could be washed to the washroom room. She would have two light loads, but she needed to wash everything in the bag. While her things were washing, she decided to do her ballet thing. She put on a pair of toe shoes, warmed up and did her stretches, before trying anything else. She then went through her paces. She knew how to do them and her body knew what to do and was in condition to do it. She even did some en pointe routines easily and held en pointe with attitude, easily.
Christie took the shoes off and went to her room to finish getting dressed for a Sunday. She checked her hair, it was still clean and in good shape. She put it up in a bun and covered it with a shower cap. She then took a shower. She liked baths, but only after she was clean. So she often showered and then had a nice hot soak. When she came out of the shower, she took a close look at herself. Her body was both familiar and strange to her, at the same time. She knew she was five-foot six, she was 30 inches below the bust and 37 at the widest part of the bust, she wore a 34C bra that was comfortable. She had a 23 inch waist and 34 inch hips. She thought she was a little top heavy, looking at her Mom though; her hips would probably catch up, unfortunately.
In her room she dressed in a matching bra and panty set, a lavender leotard, a pair of short shorts that hugged her backside nicely, ankle socks and her Nikes. She sat at her vanity. First she took care of her hair, she brushed it out and since she was going out to a nice place tonight, she just left it hang straight, with its little bit of natural curl. She cleaned her brow up a bit, added just a little light eye shadow, mascara and lipstick. She got up and started to leave her room and looked at her nails. They weren’t done. She grabbed the plastic carry-all she kept all of her nail things that she would need and headed to the living room.
She turned on the TV, set her carry-all on the coffee table and headed to the laundry, to put her things in the dryer. She sat on the floor in front of the couch. She then got busy. She first took her shoes off and filed down her toenails. Ballet was hard on a girl’s toes. She filed down her nails, put a foam spreader between her toes and got down to painting them. She liked, as did the ballet mistress, vivid reds. The brighter the better, so she often adjusted her makeup appropriately, with the right red, for the right skin tone. Christie knew she was a neutral skin tone and could wear cool or warm colors. She chose warm most of the time. She painted her toes with two coats and after they were dry, she started in on her fingernails. Her natural nails were long; her ballet Mistress liked them long. She filed the edges and shaped them a bit. Then she used a base coat, two layers of red and a diamond bright topcoat.
She watched TV for a bit, got her things out of the dryer and folded them and then put them where they belonged. Hungry, she went to the kitchen. Her diet was all spelled out on the refrigerator door. She checked it and then got the appropriate foods. After eating, she went back to the living room, went down to the floor in a Chinese split and then laid on the floor to watch TV. She adjusted her position after a bit, went into an American split and she lay down on her front leg, after a while she would change legs.
When she got bored, she went out on the patio by the pool, put her toe shoes on, stretched out and did her “Flashdance- What a feeling” routine. She surprised herself at how well she danced it. She had it all choreographed out in her mind and her body seemed to know just what to do.
After she finished the dance routine, she decided to try something. She still knew all the moves in Koryo Poomse in her head, so she tried that. Even though she knew what to do, her body didn’t know how to do it. She was sloppy and looked poorly practiced. Even though it looked like she had the same body, albeit stacked a little differently, she didn’t have the same muscle memory. She knew you couldn’t do advanced Poomse until you didn’t have to think them through, you just did them. She went to the basics, her punches and kicks, looked like a white belts punches and kicks, well maybe not a white belt maybe an eighth yellow. She had seen some really awful white belts before and she wasn’t that bad, even Charlie had never been that bad.
At about two in the afternoon, she was bored again; she went to the swimming pool changing room and changed into a racer-back top and a bikini bottom. She sveltely dived into the pool and began swimming laps; she swam seventy five laps before she took off her top to catch some rays. They had a twelve-foot tall wood privacy fence and none of the neighboring homes over looked where she laid down. She just hated tan lines. Twenty minutes each side, after the application of an appropriate sunscreen, did the trick, but she was too much of a girl to go bottomless. She hardly ever burned and tanned easily, getting a nice golden tan.
It was nigh on four when she came back in topless, carrying her things to the washroom, putting them in the basket.
She showered again and washed her hair. Before she would just wash and rinse it. Now she knew she had to wash her long blonde tresses twice and then condition her hair. She then shaved her arm pits and her legs. She sat to carefully trim her bikini line. She would need to get a wax job soon. Many ballerinas went with a full wax job for the times they wouldn’t be wearing long flowing skirts. A thick mound of hair there could be detected beneath their tights and leotard, or swimsuit. She then took a long warm bath, till it was time to wake her mom. She had just dried off, put her hair in a turbine, moisturized her skin and put on her robe before it was time to wake her Mom.
In her Mom’s room, she smiled and sat on the bed next to her back. Christie leaned over Amanda and kissed her cheek. Yeah, she was still mad, but not at the Mom she knew still loved her. She kissed her cheek and said, “Time to wake up Mom.”
Amanda woke and grabbed her daughter hugging her. She then began tickling her. Christie tried to tickle back in self-defense, but Amanda was too quick. Christie was laughing uncontrollably when she made her escape.
“You’re not mad are you, Christie?”
“Yes, I am still mad, but not at you Mom.”
“Good dear, I couldn’t live with myself if I had hurt you.”
“I know, I couldn’t hurt you, either.”
“Ok, you look good by the way, did you tan yourself.”
“Yeah, I went swimming and then caught some rays.”
“Just don’t tan too much, the sun can damage your skin.”
“I know Momma, I will be careful. I just like my looks tanned.”
“So do I. Well, we have got to get ready. Did you leave me any hot water?”
Christie got up and said, “You know we have a huge hot water tank Mom, but yes, I left you a little hot water.”
Amanda threw her pillow at a quickly retreating Christie. She cried a little at what Christy had gone through and thought how lucky she was to have such a great kid.
Christie first selected her dress and shoes, before opening her underwear drawer. She had a rainbow of different colored bras and panties and selected a good match. The dress was a mid-thigh, royal blue, number, with spaghetti straps. It was made of a shiny metallic material and it had strings of fringe all around at the hem. The shoes were satin blue pumps and the strapless bra and panties, were just a little darker than the dress. She went ahead and put on her bra and panties, before she sat to do her hair and makeup. She put most of her hair up in a bun, which she pined with a pair of jeweled chopsticks. She left two tendrils of hair by her face, which she curled with a curling iron and setting gel. She checked her fingernails and toenails. They were all good, so she started on her makeup. It would be evening, so she went for a glamour look, which included the whole shebang. She put on foundation and pressed powder. She worked to darken her brows a bit, smoky eyes, eye liner and three layers of mascara, which she carefully applied to prevent clumping. She went a little light with blusher, she didn’t want to look like an old lady or a working girl. She then carefully outlined her lips and with a brush, she filled them in with a red lipstick.
When she finished, she grabbed a matching purse and added what she needed to it. She stopped and checked her calendar, when she saw that she was still good, she only added a couple of tampons. Her mom had taught her to always have some available. The she got dressed. It was warm and sticky outside, so she had forgone pantyhose or stockings; her legs looked and felt great. Lastly, she needed a scent, Dolce & Gabbana Light Blue, just one tiny drop behind her ears, on her wrists and neck.
She finally checked herself in the mirror. She had taken her time getting ready and it showed. She looked very sexy, but not trashy, more like sophisticated chic. She had taken just an hour and a quarter to get ready. She grabbed her purse and went to check on her mom.
Amanda was just finishing up. She knew what her daughter would probably look like and had worked hard herself. She didn’t want to be out shone by her.
Christy smiled when she saw her Mom. No, she didn’t look twenty-two anymore, but she was gorgeous, none the less.
“Wow Mom, you look great.”
“You look smoking yourself, Christie. A little more mature than I like for a girl your age, but considering your dance background, it’s quite understandable.”
“I was surprised by that, Mom. Before I went swimming, I did my flashdance ‘What a feeling’ routine. The best thing I can say about this body is that it is in ultra-good condition. I did the whole dance routine, without hardly getting winded. After a five minute high energy routine, I only need a half minute or so to recover. I think I might have better cardio fitness than Charlie had.”
“Now that is saying something, Charlie was always running here or there. You ready.”
“Yes Mom, let’s go.”
They entered the garage, past a BMW, and got into the Chrysler 300. Christy opened her door and stopped to look at the Beemer. A question formed in her head, but remained unasked. Amanda then drove them to Donatello’s.
“Mom, I just thought of something horrible. If I was Christie my whole life, instead of Charlie, what about Jimmy?”
“Oh my, I hadn’t thought about that. We have that newspaper at the house. We will have to check it when we get home.”
“The Beemer is still home. How did I get that?”
“I don’t know. Check your memory, when did you get it?”
“Yesterday, but I’m kind of fuzzy on the details.”
“Me too, and that is strange. It’s like my magic took a turn of its own.”
Donatello’s was a very nice Italian Restaurant. It was very dressy inside. The Maá®tre’d was all decked out is his suit and led the ladies to their table.
“Hi Grandma,” Christie said, when she saw her Grandmother Rebekah Hanson, sitting at the table.
“And how is my favorite, Granddaughter?”
“I am your only granddaughter.”
“You still are my favorite.”
“Hello, Mom. It is so good seeing you.”
“It’s good seeing you too Amanda. I see everything went well last night.”
“As well as they could be expected.” Amanda said, leaving much unsaid.
A waiter placed a basket of soft bread sticks on the table and took their drink orders: a good Chianti for Amanda and her Mom, while Christie had unsweetened ice tea.
When they got their drinks, the waiter took their orders. Amanda chose a chicken Parmigiana, Rebekah chose the Veal Marsala and Christie had to play twenty question with the waiter, about what this or that was made of and the serving size. Amanda had to search her memory to reason out why. Christie was on a strict diet, because of the dance recital coming in a month. Even after the recital, she would only eat a few hundred calories more. She wasn’t starving herself like a model, but all her calories had to be good calories to keep fit. She chose a child’s plate of Penne pasta with pesto. She would also receive a salad; with the dressing on the side. She made sure he knew she was in training. She also allowed herself one and a half bread sticks.
The three women talked about her diet as they ate their salads. Christie only dipped a little of the salad in the dressing occasionally.
“I don’t know why I did this mom. I just know that I need to control my intake as a dancer. I’m not anorexic, I couldn’t dance like I do if I was, but to get all that my body needs, I have to be very strict on what I eat. No more pigging out on pizza, like Charlie. That is one thing I miss already. Inside, I know I am just as determined to succeed.”
“I kind of figured that was the case. It is something I have to get use to too. I am just amazed at how good you look. You are gorgeous.”
“Well I have to say you have a lovely figure for a teen, Christie.” Rebekah
“Mom, made me this way.”
“No I didn’t dear; the only thing the magic did was turn a Y into an X. You are as you would have been, if you were born a girl. I did an augury, a type of scry, to help line out your history, so you could learn your lessons easier.”
“What are these lessons I need to learn?”
“I can’t say, because I just don’t know. I’m not just being evasive. I could tell you what I had to learn, but that might mess up your mind and make this thing last longer than it needs to be. If you are where you should be, you will know when there is a lesson and when you have learned it. That is the God’s honest truth honey. I can help you keep on the path, but that is about all. Even if you fail to see it the first time, that doesn’t mean you missed your chance, when one door closes, another door should soon open. You just have to believe in yourself.”
“Everything she is saying has happened time after time in our family, Christie,” Rebekah said. “This isn’t particular to just you darling.”
“So, you know of this too Grandma.”
“Yes, I do, I am just like your mother.”
“Mom, I still am worried about Jimmy. I don’t have memories of anything dealing with him.”
Amanda explained what her daughter meant to her mom. She looked a little worried herself and said, “I am amazed that I don’t either. We would know if it was something bad, I think. I just get nothing.”
“I have to admit, that this is strange. We don’t usually have blank spots or fuzzy spots in our memories. I know you to well to ask if you made a mistake, Amanda. I will have to ponder this anomaly,” Rebekah said.
They all went to the ladies room together and then left after paying their bill. Christie found the newspaper in the car on the back seat. He was no longer on the cover and there was no mention of the dog attack. Maybe it didn’t happen, but that wouldn’t make sense, something else had to have been changed also.
When they got home Amanda checked the title of the Beemer. It was titled to Christie McKellar, free and clear. The previous owner was Bill Cranston BMW, just as it had been before.
Amanda called Delores up surreptitiously just to see how things were going. Delores was surprised to hear from her and the two chatted amicably for half an hour. Till Amanda asked, “How are the kids, Delores?”
“They are doing wonderful Amanda. David is out on a date with Jenny and Little Jimmy is over at Fred Williams house playing video games. How is Christie?”
“She and I went out to eat at Donatello’s, it was her birthday yesterday, but her ballet class kept her till late. So we had an unofficial birthday dinner today.”
“Oh that’s right she is what sixteen, right?”
“Yes, sweet sixteen. Well I have to go. It’s been really nice talking with you, take care dear.”
“You too Amanda, bye.”
“Well its official, Christie. Jimmy is alright. I am glad, but something I can’t account for, has changed.”
“That is good and bad I suppose. Things like this aren’t supposed to happen, right?”
“The only thing I can think of is that Charlie did something to precipitate the attack to begin with and I really doubt that you caused Mr. Peterson to buy a pit bull.”
“I hardly had any dealings with him when I was Charlie.”
“Oh well, we need to get to bed. We both go running at five in the morning.”
“Love ya Mom.”
“Love you too Christie.”
>>>>><<<<<
The next morning Christie and Amanda got up for their morning run. They ran two miles together. Amanda was tired when they got home, but Christie changed into a bikini and swam another twenty laps. Afterwards, she took a quick shower and shampoo. She dried her hair, did her makeup and got dressed. She checked her bag and added leotards, tights, dance skirts, things for her hair, makeup, tampons and bottled water. At eight-thirty she headed out, walking the two miles to the ballet studio.
The walk to Madame Coulter’s Ballet studio, gave her time to think about the ballet class. She didn’t really like Madame Coulter. The woman was pretty good and taught fairly well, but she was tyrannical in her approach. Ballet was ok, but Christie longed for the way the Kim’s taught. Maybe she could get Grandfather Kim to teach Ballet. Taekwondo Ballet, now that is a thought. She could see him teaching the ROK Army (Republic of Korea Army) ballet.
Madame Coulter was about fifty years old. She had about forty ballerinas of various ages. Her oldest student was twenty. Madame Coulter had a gold mine, in addition to the forty ballerinas, she had four danseur nobles, or male dancers and two of those were pretty good.
Ballerinas who haven’t made it to the pros by twenty-two probably wouldn’t. There were fewer dancers over thirty-five in the pros. Christie was at the cusp of deciding whether or not she would put out the effort to try to go professional. The constant practice, rehearsals and performances are hard on the ballerinas. Injuries are a constant reminder of their mortality as dancers. Football players, who think they have it rough, should try to step in a ballerina’s toe shoes.
Christie and Randal Woodson, the seventeen year-old male dancer, both got there a half hour before class. They were preparing their own dance routine for the recital. They had a five minute dance adaptation, reminiscent of the final dance in dirty dancing. Only, Christie wore toe shoes, instead of high heels. She did many of the turns en pointe, or up on her toes. She liked the way that she and Randal danced, but he was an egotistical jerk, away from the dance floor. On the dance floor, he was polite and hard working.
Christie wore a gauzy chiffon wrap around skirt over her leotard and tights, as she danced. For the recital, she had a pink chiffon cocktail dress picked out. She would look as a lot like Jennifer Grey and Randal would be a passable Patrick Swayze. She and Randal had it choreographed quite nicely. They were quite hot together.
They then met and worked out with their regular class. Christie was surprised to see a few of the girls that had been in Charlie’s white and yellow belt classes. She wondered how Charlie had interacted with them to get them into Karate. Nothing came to mind. Christie’s attention was soon caught by Madame Coulter’s screech. Some of the girls likened it to a harpy’s screech. She was getting on to some intermediate student, Karen Sampson was the girl’s name, that came to her mind. She wasn’t doing something or other, right.
After the offender had been suitably punished. She got her students into one of the dances they were doing for the recital.
Now that it was summer, they switched over from three days a week to six days a week, till the late July recital. This week, and the next one, just became carbon copies of the previous days, except for which dances they worked on.
Two more days passed before Christie was fed up with Madame Coulter, on her second Saturday as a girl. She had just one nerve left and Madame Coulter just broke it. She had just done a very good pas in her opinion, but Madame Coulter made a mistake and tried to belittle Christie.
Christie didn’t remember what Madame Coulter said, but she remembers how she said it and when Madame Coulter threatened to replace her with Lisa Brandt. It was a step too far. Lisa Brandt was another sixteen year-old dancer. She wasn’t nearly as good as Christie and that is what really made her mad. On top of that, she found that someone had put sand and ground glass in her toe shoes that day. She suspected Lisa Brandt, but didn’t say anything about it.
Christie stood up straight to Madame Coulter and said, “That is enough Renee, I am tired of you. I quit.” Renee Coulter didn’t allow any of her students to call her Renee, not even her few adult students. They were all required to address her as Madame Coulter. Christie had just committed a grievous sin. “You are an egotistical, bombastic, pompous, old, despotic, tyrant. I’m not your slave, I was your student. That was said in past tense, if you need a better explanation. You berate, demean and destroy your students’ sense of self-worth to boost your own sense of well-being. I will not subject you to my unskilled presence anymore. If you want Lisa Brandt to be the star dancer, you can have her. Good… Bye… Renee… Coulter... I won’t be renewing my contract next month.” Christie stormed into the dressing room and just grabbed her bag and left. Madame Coulter was apoplectic and almost catatonic. In her twelve years of teaching she never had a student talk back to her like that.
Christie walked towards home, she thought about calling her mom to come get her, but decided to walk. She then remembered that this was test day at Young-Soo’s Karate. She headed over to there. When she got there, she realized that she hadn’t stopped to take off her toe shoes before she had stormed out of the studio. She took them off; they should probably be thrown away, now as the walk had damaged them and put them in her bag and went into the dojang. The white belts were testing so she sat down on the side of the mat and watched.
It was a little heartbreaking watching her own students testing with her there, or rather without Charlie there. She still cheered them on when they did well. When the greenbelts came up to test, she was surprised to see Tad, testing. In the other universe he wasn’t ready. After watching the green belts test, she could see that he still wasn’t really ready. Then it was Donnie’s time to test.
Donnie was a little rougher around the edges, but he did well enough to pass. He had to fight Young-Soo. Christie could tell they weren’t taking it easy. The sounds, of the punches and kicks landing were resounding. Then Donnie had to fight two other black belts, from other schools. Donnie almost whipped them good. He fought them well. Then he did his breaking and his poomse. Tests for black belts can last for hours and it was Donnie’s conditioning that won the day.
At the end of the tests, the black belt committee met for ten minutes to discuss all the students’ tests. When they came back, they announced the students that had passed. Only two students didn’t pass their test, a yellow belt, that tested too soon and Tad. Belts and certificates were passed out. The students lined up to thank the testers. Tad was conspicuously missing from the line, that was considered bad form. They then had a meet and greet.
Christie started to leave but when she turned she ran right into Grandfather Kim, “Excuse me sir, sorry for running into you. I didn’t hurt you did I.”
Grandfather Kim just laughed at that and turned to Master Kim who had come over. The two men spoke in Korean and were laughing with each other, “No, young lady, you didn’t hurt this old man. I am Grandfather Kim and this is my son Young-Min and that is my grandson Young-Soo over there,” he said, pointing out his relatives. “I see by your dress that you are a student of the dance.”
“I was till today sir. I quit, I just didn’t have what it takes to continue on.”
“I don’t sense that in you, child. I sense a strong sense of character in you. You had good reason to quit, but it wasn’t because of anything in you. Have you ever thought about taking Ka-Ra-Te?” he said, emphasizing the word karate like that.
“Yes and no,” Christie said, stretching the truth a bit.
“Well, you must speak with Tracy Wilcox, she recruits the girls for our school. Tracy come, another new student right here.”
Christie saw Tracey coming over. She smiled to herself.
“Hi I am Tracy Wilcox, 1 st dan black belt.”
“Hi I am Christie McKellar, former ballerina extraordinaire.” Christie said, going en pointe.
“Very good, Christie,” Tracy said, smiling. “If you want to take karate, it’s a hundred twenty a month. You will need a dobok or uniform and safety gear when you get to yellow belt and begin sparring.”
Tracy took Christie into the office to show her the gear and to talk some more. They sat and talked about karate. It was hard for Christie to talk like a neophyte. Christie changed the subject to the big black guy who tested.
“Yes, he is a hunk, isn’t he. He is my boyfriend, Donnie Colt, now first dan black belt Taekwondo, brown belt Gracie Jiu Jitsu and a Muay Thai fighter. He is looking on getting into a UFC class in a year or two.”
“UFC, what is that?”
“That my dear, is a shit storm, when it comes to fighting. UFC stands for Ultimate Fighting Championship. There are fewer NO, NO’s in UFC fighting. It is a real fur ball.”
“Oh really, it sounds dangerous.”
“It is. I worry about Donnie a lot. I just hope this doesn’t change him for the worst.”
“I don’t think it will. I bet he is a great guy.”
“He is.”
Christie reached into her gear bag and got her ATM card out. Her Mom had just put a thousand on it for the next year of ballet. She thought sorry Mom. I just can’t take good ole Renee.
When Christie picked out a heavy weight dobok, Tracy tried to talk her into one of the lighter weight doboks, “The canvas doboks,” she said, “were heavier and scratchier than the light weight ones. “
“I bet the lighter ones are less durable and go transparent with sweat. Your wearing a heavy uniform”
“Yeah, but I am a black belt. I would have to buy one of the lightweight doboks each month . They would get torn up in the black belt classes.”
“Why do you have the black stripe on the two halves of the uniform front?”
“Red and black belts help teach at our school it save us money, so we have a different dobok. We require all of our other students to wear solid white till they get to red belt.”
“Your years away from one like this. It takes a minimum of three years to get to black belt and that is pushing it hard. Even if you could, I don’t think you should. You miss out on so much jumping belts so fast. We look at karate as more of a life choice, than just a martial art.”
Tracy was shocked when the young girl bought Saf -T punches and kicks. Tracy recommended a boob protector (ladies chest protectors) and a chest guard, mouthpiece, head gear. Christie then selected a pair of MMA gloves, Sais and metal fans. The metal fans look like those oriental fans and were very ornate, but they were also weapons that could maim and kill. Lastly, she bought another gear bag. The gear bag she had for ballet would give up the ghost and die, if it had to carry all her new stuff.
“Why are you buying weapons, we don’t get to weapons training till at least blue belt? Greens and yellows sometimes get nun chucks or some of the swords for their walls, but we strongly discourage them trying to learn to use them.”
“I think they will look cool on my walls,” although Christie had no intention to use these weapons just as wall hangers. “Those fans are pretty.”
“They are weapons too and they are hard to use well, just keep them in the original packaging and bring them back to get your money back if your parents complain. I also need them to sign a medical release and a release so we can teach you.”
“Just my Mom, my dad passed away years ago.”
“I am so sorry.”
“Well I need to go and break the news to Mom, that she isn’t going to have a prima donna ballerina in the family. I am sure I will like karate better. I can work out my anger at Renee Coulter.”
“The Ballet instructor right?”
“That would be her highness.”
“We get some students from her occasionally. Come on back to the dressing rooms and I will show you around. Then I will give you a lift home.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I don’t, but that gear bag will weigh a ton in comparison to your ballet bag.”
Not a bad idea, Christie thought. She didn’t have the upper body strength that Charlie had.
Charlie had been in the ladies changing rooms before, but not when there were ladies actually changing. Christie followed Tracy in with her ballet bag. She changed into her street clothes, a tank top and shorts, as Tracey showered and changed. Christie was surprised to see the bruises on Tracy.
“Oh my, how did you get those bruises?”
“I was sparing with Donnie in class. Boy can he hit hard and that was him pulling his punches.”
“And you are still going out with him?”
“He has other… things… he is good at and besides, I gave almost as good as I got.” Tracy said, with a wink.
Christie wondered if she was talking about karate or something else.
“He doesn’t beat you does he.”
“If he even raises his hand to me in anger, I have a 1911 A1 for him and he knows it too. He has some anger problems, but he would never, never ever hurt a girl. That much I am sure of.”
Tracy showed Christie around and introduced her to her instructor, a second red belt Mark Fresnel. Charlie never knew him, but he seemed like a nice guy about twenty-two, five foot ten, about one seventy five, blonde hair, deep green eyes and a killer smile. Too bad he was so old Christie thought and she wondered where that thought came from. She hadn’t thought about boys that way before.
Tracy gave Christie a lift to her home. Christie was surprised when Tracey gave her an air kiss before she opened her car doors and got out of the car.
“I am home Mom,” Christie said.
“And just where have you been for three hours young lady. Madame Coulter called me and told me you were rude to her and that you walked out of class hours ago.”
“Mom, I did quit ballet. I am not going to be able to go anywhere with it and I didn’t like the way she treats her girls.” Christie gave her mom a word by word description of what was said. “She tried to stuff that Lisa Brandt up my nose. I couldn’t take it anymore. I think that what shocked her the most, was a girl actually stood up to her and my calling her Renee. I will not go back and I will not apologize. She terrorizes those young girls, Mom.”
“That may be true Young Lady, but that isn’t what has my ire up. I have been sitting here waiting for you to call. I was worried sick about what happened to you. Where have you been?”
“Kim Young-Soo’s Mom, and yes I have. I’m sorry I didn’t call. That was so un-thoughtful of me. It’s just that woman got me so mad, I just stopped thinking about everything else, Momma,” Christie said, clearly remorseful.
“I am sorry too, Christie. You’re my only child and I worry about you.”
“Mom I don’t know if I blew the lesson I was supposed to learn, but I couldn’t stand that damn woman any more. I went to the dojang because they were testing. I always enjoyed watching my students test,” Christie said, with a tear in the corners of her eyes. “Anyway, I need you to sign these papers for me.”
Amanda took the papers that were handed her and looked over them. “I probably shouldn’t sign these things for you Christie. I shouldn’t, but I will. You have got to realize the danger the world presents to you.”
“I know Mom, I’m sorry.”
>>>>><<<<<
Amanda did an augury late that night and was surprised to find her daughter was still on track. It was almost as if her daughter was supposed to drop out of Ballet. Amanda smiled and cried a small tear herself. She could remember, going to recitals to see her daughter dancing, but she hadn’t really ever seen her dance on stage. The spell that warped reality gave people the false memories.
“Oh well, at least I know she will probably do well in karate. She can’t help it; it’s in her nature I guess.”
>>>>><<<<<
Christie started karate on Monday. Young-Soo wanted her to come to at least five classes a week. White belts worked out at, ten in the morning on Monday, Wednesday and Friday, four in the afternoon on Tuesday, Thursday and eight in the morning and five in the evening on Saturday. Christie planned to meet them all.
She didn’t have to pretend to not be good, for all the conditioning she had as a ballerina now, all the knowledge she had in her head, despite all the grace her body had developed at the bar and on the stage, Christie had a lack of muscle memory. She had to think about how to do the required action. She was very good for a white belt, but a far cry from where she had been as a red belt.
Mark Fresnel had forty eight white belts from eight to sixteen. The school was a safe place for kids whose parents were at work and didn’t want their kids sitting around the house all day playing video games, or out in the neighborhood, or the mall or worse getting into trouble. He had a large class, but at least not everybody attended every class. He averaged thirty students a class. After two days, he already knew who his best student was, Christie.
When she wasn’t in class, she would be in the dojang watching the other classes, doing her exercises or working on an un-used heavy bag. Her actions were explained by the fact that she had always been a fitness nut. She had been a ballerina after all. One of the new fourteen-year old male white belts, Craig Breeder, stuck his foot in his mouth, when he said ballerinas weren’t athletes. Craig was five foot-eight and a hundred and fifty-five pounds. He was a starting defensive back, on the junior varsity football team, and was taking karate to toughen himself up and stay in shape over the summer.
“Hey big guy, you say that a ballerina isn’t an athlete, put your body where your mouth is. We will exercise till I get tired. If you can hang with me, I will go on a date with you. If you fall out, you will wear a tutu to class for a week.”
“Don’t do it Craig, she will eat your breakfast,” Wilma said. “If you lose, we will expect you to wear that tutu.”
“Hell, she can’t be in as good a shape as I am. I am a defensive back on my football team. She’ll look mighty fine on my arm. As long as I don’t have to do some of those ballerina things, I should be all right,” Craig Breeder said.
“Then we won’t have a weight lifting competition. I know you can lift more weight than I can. I will let Wilma decide what exercises we do; the last will be a distance run till I get tired.”
Wilma was smiling, “I will go along with that, but again Craig, I am telling you, don’t do it.”
“You’re on Christie.”
“Let me run this by Young-Soo first. We don’t want to do something that will make him mad,” Wilma said. “If he approves of it, we will get right on it. If he doesn’t, you may need a different penalty, Christie.”
Wilma called Young-Soo over and the two kids explained the bet and the penalties. Young-Soo made sure both knew what was expected and smiled when the kids said that they knew.
For an hour and a half, Wilma worked the two kids like a DI (Drill Instructor) on Paris Island. She had them do their stretches. Christie had no problems with them, Craig was still tight in his thighs and calves. Then came pushups, sit ups, crunches, squat thrusts, jumping jacks, leg raises, trunk twisters, arm circles, jumping toe touches and crab walking. Both kids were sweating like dogs. They put their shoes on and then ran to the track two blocks away. Wilma gave them five minutes to stretch hydrate and recover, before she started them running.
Christie knew she had him, when she saw the way he was running. Football players rarely practice running over a mile or two, they ran the hell out of the forty and hundred yard dashes, but Charlie and Christie would often run five to ten miles. Christie began to actually recover from the brutal way Wilma had worked them, as she ran. Wilma hadn’t taken it easy on Christie.
Half the dojang had come to the track to watch. Craig actually showed well for himself, well he lasted for two miles. If he had matched her pace, he might have lasted longer. The bet had been that she had to quit, not that he outrun her, instead he tried to run her into the ground. She just took her own pace and ran another two miles farther than he had.
Christie smiled as she passed the guys helping Craig stretch out after he stopped. She could have quit after he stopped, but felt that she had something to prove to him. Even when she was Charlie, he had trouble with people who thought that they were better physical specimens than he was. When Christie finally stopped, she was exhausted. She still took time to cool down properly and hydrate. She would need to take a nice hot bath and use some Ben Gay, but she had been still going when Craig fell out.
Craig was up on his feet when she finally had cooled down, he appeared quite contrite and he walked over to her and offered her his hand, “Damn girl, you won. I still can’t believe it. I will honor my bet, but I still can’t believe it. I can’t believe I had to run into a Jack “F***en” LaLanne in a skirt. Are all ballerinas like that.”
Christie shook his hand. She was glad the he was taking it all in a good natured way, “No, not all of them, just the ones who hope to be really good, dancing is hard work.”
Back at the dojang, both kids took long hot showers, to work out the kinks.
Friday, both kids were in class, Mark gave Christie a wink as they lined up. Craig wore a wraparound, chiffon skirt she used in ballet, over his uniform. Wilma was a little disappointed, she had her heart set to see him duded out like a ballerina in a Tutu, but everyone agreed that that was enough.
Saturday Christie was working with her class when she heard her name being called. She was doing the back punch, step, back punch drill. She turned and saw Madame Coulter coming into the dojang, in her four inch stilettos.
“Christie my dear, we need to talk.”
“Excuse me Sa Ba Nim,” Christie said, to Mark as she went over to Madame Coulter.
“Renee, you need to step out of the Dojang and take your shoes off,” Christie said.
“What, I surely will not. Now please, it’s Madame Coulter,” She said emphasizing her name, “and we need to talk.”
“If you want to talk to me, you will step outside of the Dojang and take your shoes off, before you come back.”
“Oh that is so silly, come outside with me and let’s talk.”
“I will not!”
If looks could kill Christie would be severely wounded at the least. Renee turned and stepped outside the Dojang took her shoes off and came back in. By this time the three Kims were standing behind Christie wondering what is going on.
“Now Christie we need to talk. I need you back for at least three weeks. Lisa just isn’t working out very well.”
“I thought you said that, she was getting better than me.”
“I did, it was just to motivate you to do better.”
“Not my problem, You still have Lisa. She can do most of the dances.”
“Yes, most of the dances,” Renee had to bite her tongue as she said, “but not as good as you, and she doesn’t have the stamina, that you have. Why is that boy wearing that skirt?” She said as she looked past Christie to see Craig.”
“He didn’t have the stamina of my new Jeja, Christie,” Young-Soo said.
“And just who are you?” Madame Coulter said.
“I am Kim Young-Soo owner and teacher of Kim Young-Soo’s Karate. You are interrupting some very important lessons for my student. State your business quickly please.”
“Well Mr. Soo,” Renee said. Kim just shook his head. “Christie use to be one of my Ballet students. She just quit last week. I desperately need her for three more weeks. Otherwise I may have to cancel the recital and that would disappoint a lot of my students.”
“Renee, as you said I quit, I am no longer your student. You were too tyrannical for my tastes.”
“Christie, I will say it again. You will call me Madame Coulter.”
“Let us talk with our student Madame Coulter,” Young-Soo said.
The three Kims moved well away from where Madame Coulter stood, “First, you will address her as Madame, Jeja. She did teach you well, did she not?”
“Yes, but…”
Young-Soo held up a hand to stop Christie, “Even a bad Sa Ba Nim is worthy of his title if he truly teaches his students. Is what she says true. Will she have to cancel the recital and will it disappoint her other students.”
Christie thought a few seconds and said, “Probably, I know Lisa couldn’t do my duet and my solo dance. She can dance the other three just, not as good.”
“Would these other students would be hurt, they did practice so hard and wouldn’t have the chance to show off their skill.”
Christie was torn; she really did love to dance, even when she was Charlie. She knew in her heart, that the other girls would be greatly disappointed to not be able to dance in the recital. She certainly would be, if she were in their toe shoes. “Yes, Sa Ba Nim, they would be greatly disappointed.”
“Then maybe you could dance these two dances, for Madame Coulter.”
“As long as she realizes that after the recital, I will no longer be her student and that she realizes that it is just the pas de deux and the pas seul, then I could.”
“Stay here little one let us talk with her a bit.”
The Kim’s walked over to Madame Coulter and began talking with the lady. She seemed to be arguing with them but finally she shook her head. Young-Soo waved for Christie.
“Jeja Christie, Madame Coulter has agreed to the terms that you dance the pas de deux and the pas seul. You will go to her studio on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays till you dance at the recital in three weeks. You will come to our dojang on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays. After the recital she will have no claim on your time.”
“I agree Sa Ba Nim.”
“Please don’t let her get a busted lip or a bruised up face, Mr. Soo.”
“We will try our best to see to her well-being, just as we are sure of your continued good will towards her.”
>>>>><<<<<
Reluctantly Christie entered the dance studio. Many of the girls were excited and mobbed her. One stood back and fumed.
“Well I see you are back to save our bacon, Christie,”
“Yes, I heard you were having problems, Lisa. I came back to save the show and after the recital, I will be gone. You can have your little fiefdom to yourself then.”
Christie changed into her tights, leotard and shoes, before putting her hair in bun and covering it. Outside she met up with Randal.
“Hi Randy, are you ready to work on our piece.”
“Am I ever,” he said heading for the smaller practice room. “I told, MAD… ame that I wasn’t going to dance with Lisa. Lisa couldn’t keep up with me and she was only concerned about making herself looking good. A Pas de deux is about the Ballerina making the Danseur Noble look good as his job is making her look spectacular. I tried working with her after a particularly rough workout Madame Coulter put the class through. She couldn’t hack it.”
“Well are you ready?” Christie asked as she wrapped a chiffon skirt around her waist, after they stretched out and warmed up.
“Let me key up the music.”
Christie and Randal worked on their number for about an hour and a half. They danced the number several times, working on a couple of problem areas. They made some small changes and tried the new sequences out.
Randal then had Christie watch as he did his “Footloose” Warehouse dance. She knew that he was good, probably better than she was. He could dance circles around Kevin Bacon. She did stop him a couple of times and made some suggestions Dancing the sequences with him. He tried out her suggestions and kept most of them after adapting them to his style.
Christie then did her “Flashdance- What a Feeling” solo, several times with Randal criticizing her dance.
“Stop a second,” Randal said. “Alexandra Owens worked as a wielder during the day and as an exotic dancer at night. To be a successful dancer she would have to be comfortable with her body and her sensuality. You are doing very good, but you need to kick up your sexy, a bit. Don’t think about it just do it.”
‘That is easy for you to say,’ she thought. She giggled to herself a bit and then started the number over form the top. She went overboard in a campy sort of way. Just like some drag queens did sexy. Randal was laughing and had a giant smile on his face.
“You need to tone that down a bit, or you may get us arrested, but you’ve got the idea.”
She took a minute to recover a bit and then she nodded for Randal to hit the music.
“Dance to the music girl, just feel it and dance it.”
Christie stood ready and when the music came, it was ‘Maniac’. She had also been working on a ‘Maniac’ routine so she just went with the flow. The ‘What a Feeling’ routine was a high energy routine, the ‘Maniac’ sequence was insane. She went with the flow of the music. She was a little tired when the number finished but six seconds after the end of ‘Maniac’, ‘What a Feeling’ began. She just continued on with her dance.
“That is how you ought to do your last dance. It will be your swan song. You will be leaving after your dance. So go out with a bang, girl,” Randal said. He looked around and stepped closer to Christie. “Madame Coulter doesn’t know it yet and please don’t say anything about this, Christie,” Randal said and then he whispered. “I am leaving at the end of summer. I have been accepted at and have a scholarship to a school in New York City. That is a step closer to joining ‘The Dance Company’.”
That is the dream of many Ballerinas and Danseurs, to sign on with ‘The Dance Company’ meant you were at the pinnacle.
“Oh my, that’s really going to curl her hair, losing her two best students within weeks.”
“Yep Mom and I will leave town on August 15 th, while dad will move in January or February. Oh and I have heard that a talent scout from ‘The Dance Company’ will be at our recital.”
“Can I ask you a question, Randal?”
“Let me guess, you want to know why girls don’t like me outside of class,” Randal said, and Christie nodded. “I don’t have the time for girls right now. They expect too much from me right now. Girls are high maintenance; they expect and have a right to expect certain things in a relationship. Right now I am high maintenance. That is not a good mix. I would never, ever consider going out with another dancer. That could be very bad, although I could make an exception for you. That isn’t going to happen is it?” Again Christie shook he head no. “So my being somewhat acerbic and aloof is a defense mechanism for me. And for the record; I would cut off my left nut before I ever dated Lisa. She is a cow.”
“I wouldn’t call her a cow, she doesn’t have the udders for a cow, but yes, I understand.”
“If she worked harder, she could be good. She has the classic Ballerina build, great legs, slim build and flat chest. I think she could make it if she worked as hard as you do.”
Christie thought about it and after doing both high energy routines together, she could really feel it in her boobs. She had to work hard to maintain her balance with her boobs and the strain on them from dancing were good reasons for leaving dance right now, but that wouldn’t fly to far because of her karate. She had a good giggle at her own expense. Then again, she would be able to defend this great bod of hers. If she had to be a girl, it was better being a good looking girl.
>>>>><<<<<
Mark was going over his students in the black belt and red belt meeting Saturday night. “I am amazed by Christie, in the few weeks she has been a student I would test her for yellow belt, seventh yellow, but she has yet to spar so make it eight yellow. Let her skip the ninth white belt test. I never had a student pick up the basics so fast.”
Young-Soo thought for a few minutes and then spoke to his father and grandfather in Korean. Grandfather Kim agreed that Christie should test for yellow soon. Every August they tried to retain as many summer students as they could. Getting their students enthused and testing them when proficient was part of the retention program for summer students.
“It is agreed, Christie McKellar will test for eighth gold on the eleventh of August,” Young-Soo said.
>>>>><<<<<
For the next three weeks Christie went to her karate classes and dance classes. Randall wasn’t such a prick once she knew his secret. Tad though was being a real jerk. He asked her to go out with him at least a half-dozen times over the last two weeks. Christie did find Valerie Stevens crying once in the changing room. Christie asked her what was wrong and the girl replied that she didn’t know. It was like she had lost something, but didn’t know what. The girl felt better though after Christie hugged her and comforted her.
The three days leading to the recital, Christie only went to ballet classes. Sure it was to be her last dance, but she was going to make it her best dance too. She would have her Mom and Grandmother there to support her and to appreciate her efforts.
Saturday morning, Amanda took her daughter to the theater two hours before the recital. Christie was more nervous than she ever remembered Charlie being, even when Charlie tested for his first red, belt. At least Charlie got to pound on someone to work off his nerves. Christie though had to smile and be supportive of her fellow dancers. Her support though wasn’t half-hearted. She really hoped the girls, especially the young girls would go out and dance well. She hoped that they enjoyed the fruits of their hard labors.
She even went over to wish Lisa Brandt well. Lisa Brandt almost jumped out of her skin, when Christie came up to wish her well.
The first section of the dance went well. All the young girls got to dance their supporting roles and Lisa Did a decent job. She had been Christie’s understudy. Randal had already made his way to the back of the audience as the girls left the stage. Their number started about twenty seconds after the applause stopped. Christie came out on the stage in a classical ballet style before the music started and posed. She looked wonderful in her pink chiffon dress and toe shoes.
The lights dimmed and ‘I’ve had the Time of my Life’ began. Christie took several steps to the front of the stage as the audience realized that Randal was coming up middle. The last three steps he rushed towards her and she fell into a lift. A third of the dance was performed close to the audience, with Christie up on her toes.
One young boy tried to trip Randal while he was doing a lift and walking. His mom caught him before Randal got to him. He is going to be in big trouble when he gets home. ‘Maybe you would like to join the ballet,’ his mom whispered to him. ‘Your sister would just love to take you to her school and see you dance in a tutu.’
Christie made a remarkable leap up on the stage, followed by Randal. The two of them danced beautifully together, Christie brought a lot of attention to Randal’s strength and grace, while he showcased her beauty, grace and agility. They received thunderous applause when they finished their number. After a short bow they hurried off the stage, so the next scene could begin.
Randal had to hurry to change, he had a couple of minutes and he had to be on the stage with the troupe. He hated to dance with Lisa, but couldn’t disappoint the girls. Christy had the next scene for her pas de sol and changed into her flash dance costume. She was just going to do her ‘What a Feeling’ dance.
As the troupe left the stage she came right out and began by doing her ballet stretches. When the music started, she began the slow portion of her dance. The speed of the music increased as did her pace. Christie was in the zone and it showed. She thrilled the audience with her ability and stamina as her dance went to extreme level. She was having fun and it showed.
When the music ended, she received a standing ovation. She had to stay on the stage bowing till the volume of the applause started to die down. She smiled and waved as she left the stage.
She headed to the dressing room for a quick shower and to change back into her chiffon dress, hose and heels. She thought about heading out the back door, but she would be cheating the crowd. Randal was just finishing his Footloose number when she finished dressing. She applauded him and gave him a hug as the girls went out for their last number.
Lisa wasn’t the best dancer, but Christie thought she acquitted herself well. If she danced these pieces again in two months she would do much better. She had worked harder than she ever had in the three weeks since Christie quit. When the dancers went back on stage for their final bows, Christie let Lisa take center stage, much to Renee’s consternation. Christie squatted down and gave many of the young girls hugs and congratulations for how they had done.
Renee Coulter stayed in character, even though her girl’s had danced their hearts out, the best compliment she could give was that they danced adequately, and then she began to nitpick their performances. “Sue you missed your marks, Rita your pirouettes were out of sink with the others,” and so forth.
“Excuse me Renee,” Christie said, Madame Coulter’s face became pasty and splotchy. She still couldn’t stand one of her students not fearing her. She missed having Christie, but was glad the bitch was leaving. “Despite their few flaws, I think they danced superbly. Even Lisa danced her heart out. I have learned, from my Karate classes, that if you praise people it lifts their spirits and will make them want to work harder for you. Yes there were some imperfections, but they danced better, than you deserved, Renee. You should praise them for what they did accomplish. At least that is what I think.”
Christie turned and didn’t wait to leave. She grabbed her gear bag and hurried for the stage exit, where she expected her mother. As she stepped out the door, she was surprised to see the crowd there. Almost half of Young-Soo’s student were there and applauding her. What really surprised her though was too see all three Kim’s there, in Tuxedo’s, standing next to her mother. She was startled when two hands found her waist and lifted her. Randal had come up behind her, he lifted her up and then carried her down the three steps and placed her down if front of her mom. Amanda had tears of joy in her eyes as she hugged her daughter.
“Christie you were incredible. I couldn’t believe how much you’ve matured.”
“Thank you Mom, I love you so much. I glad to be out from under the tutelage of Madame Coulter. Did you know what she told her students, “Girls, you danced adequately, blah, blah, blah… Sue you were a millimeter off your mark, Rita you were milliseconds off on your turns.” The girls were very good, Mom.”
“I think so too. Christie and I understand why you like your karate instructors, now. Grandfather Kim, Master Kim and Kim Young-Soo take good care of my little girl.”
Grandfather Kim was smiling one of his million dollar smiles, “We will, Mrs. McKellar, we will.”
Christie stood beside Grandfather Kim and offered him her arm, “Now can a girl take her best guy out to dinner. You can have the other two Mom.”
Young-Soo turned to his Father, “Dang it Dad, why does Grandpa get all the prettiest girls?”
“Beats me Son, he has always been like that. I hadn’t planned on going out to eat, but will you be my date tonight, Mrs. McKellar?”
“I would be most charmed to be your escort tonight.”
Young-Soo turned to his twelve-year old daughter and offered her his arm, “Well it’s you and me kid.”
“Sorry Dad, Donnie is my escort,” she said taking his hand protectively.
Young-Soo just shook his head and smiled, “I can’t wait till your Mom gets back from South Korea. Come along Donnie and Eun Ae.”
“Daaaad, I told you to call me Eunice,” Eun Ae said, to her father. It was close to her Korean name, but she liked her name to be Romanized.
“I reserve the rights of all fathers to embarrass their children, Donnie have you seen Eun Ae’s baby photos,” Young-Soo said.
“Daaaad, you wouldn’t.”
Young-Soo just smiled at his daughter as he led Eun Ae and Donnie to his car.
>>>>><<<<<
Christie was surprised to find three of the little girl’s from her ballet class, in the lobby of the dojang with their mothers. The girls were nine, ten and ten years old. Cindy’s mom came over smiling and said, “Hello Christie.”
“Hello Mrs. Pettis, how can I help you?”
“We heard what you said to Renee the other day and we agree with you. You see Rhonda, Barbra and I went out to eat with our girls after the recital. The girl’s told us what Renee said and what you said to her. I was torn about it. I love the ballet, you see and I had hopes of having a ballerina in the family. Cindy though was always coming home upset by what Renee had to say about them. Well we all came to my home. The girls went to Cindy’s room to play around. So I talked with Barbra and Rhonda. We all agreed, Renee was good, but she is too full of herself. We felt she was taking her failure to get to the big show out on our daughters. We were just going to pull them out of ballet. The girls were thrilled and asked if they could take karate with you.”
Christie looked around and saw Young-Soo in the office, “Girls, just come with me to Sa Bum Nim Young-Soo’s office.”
“Sa bum nim, what does that mean?” Rhonda asked.
“It means, master or teacher, we use that term for whoever teaches us out of respect for them. They often refer to us as Jeja or student. It’s not like it was with Madame Coulter. They don’t demand the title they earn it.”
Christie led everyone to Young-Soo’s office. “Sa Bum Nim,” Christie said, “I have some friends that would like to meet you.”
“So I see, Jeja Christie,” Young-Soo said, standing and smiling. “Come in please. Be welcomed here.”
“Sa Bum Nim, This is Mrs. Pettis and her daughter, Cindy, Mrs. Dwyer and her daughter, Kelly and Mrs. Newton and her Daughter, Carly. They are here to talk about possibly taking Karate.”
“Please have a seat ladies. I remember you three beautiful young ladies. You were all in the recital. Me and my daughter, my father and grandfather thought you were wonderful.”
The mothers smiled and their daughters just giggled.
The three mothers all sat on a couch in the office. Christie started to leave, but was stopped by Young-Soo. So she sat on the floor. All three girls tried to occupy her lap and succeeded to a small extent. So she just hugged all three girls to her to keep them from falling off her lap.
The mothers then talked with Young-Soo, they were all worried about their daughters, getting hurt. Young-Soo explained that while they couldn’t guarantee that their daughters wouldn’t get hurt they bent over backwards to see that they didn’t. He assured them that they wouldn’t be allowed to spar with the big kids or adults till they could handle themselves. The mothers were told that they could come and watch their girls, something Madame Coulter didn’t like.
Young-Soo was very smooth with the mothers, he really was a good salesman, when it came to selling Karate. They agree to sign their girls up for a one month free trial, if they would only buy the uniform.
“Jeja Christie, would you outfit the girls and show them around.”
“It would be my pleasure Sa Bum Nim.”
Christie realized she didn’t have enough hands as the girls tried to claim one. She took them to the shop area of the dojang and got the girls sized up for their dobok or uniform. At least the girls had their arms full. She led them on a tour.
“Girls, this is important. We take our shoes off before we enter the dojang or studio. Just take your shoes off and put them in these boxes,” Christie said demonstrating.
The girls followed her instructions.
She then showed the girls the three rooms they used for instruction.
“This is the main room, where you will be taught. It has mirrors on the wall like Madame Coulter’s classroom. Be careful that you don’t kick or hit the mirrors. These two rooms are for advanced students who work on advanced techniques or with weapons. Don’t go into these rooms if there is someone working without an instructor with you. We don’t want you to get hurt. Here we have punching bags and weights don’t play with these till you get older. Back here is the changing room and the showers. The smelly boys go over there and us girls use this one.”
The girls all, “Ohed and yucked as they passed the boys entrance. Christie realized just how smelly the boys side was.
In the changing room there were basket in boxes and benches. Christie told the girls to find an empty basket to put their stuff in and change into their dobok. Christie did the same. She taught them how to put their dobok on and tie their belts. Christie then led them to the back, where they had a sauna, Jacuzzi and the showers. Don’t go into the sauna or Jacuzzi without someone older with you. Near the showers were sink, toilets and towels.
Christie then introduced them to their black belt instructor Wilma. Wilma had Christie work with her and the girls. They taught them etiquette first and their stretches and warm-ups. Wilma was amazed at how flexible the girls were. They then went over their basic punches, kicks and blocks. After thirty minutes Wilma wanted to take it easy on the girls.
“Keep going, Wilma. These girls are tougher than they look. They aren’t even sweating yet. Madame Coulter worked them a lot harder.”
“Ok Christie, you work them, and I will watch and correct them.”
Christie did take control and began to really work the girls hard. Wilma didn’t get a chance to correct them, Christie was on them like flies on stink, when they made a mistake. She did it with style though and made the girls feel good about themselves. The girls just soaked it up. Wilma realized that these girls were already athletes and they really liked Christie.
When Christie finished with them she had them bow to Wilma and then to her. The girls were all excited and ran to hug Christie and Wilma.
>>>>><<<<<
Christie helped with all the kids classes, whom she worked harder than the others, but not brutally hard. She just seemed to know when the kids needed to stop. Her kids showed remarkable improvement.
In her own class, she had come a long way and while she was better than any White, Yellow or Green Belts at the school, she still wasn’t satisfied with her performance. In the two months that she had been working out at this dojang, her upper body strength had improved. She went from being able to do fifty pound bench presses to one hundred-fifteen pound bench presses. She was still a far cry from Charlie’s two hundred ninety-five pound bench press.
She was working on a heavy bag, wearing her MMA gloves, when she got particularly frustrated. She was hitting the bag the way that Charlie had, but wasn’t getting the satisfaction that she had as when Charlie hit the bag. In her heart she knew the answer, in her head she was Charlie/Christie but this body was all Christie. She sat on the floor in the lotus position, frustrated, lost in thought and tried to stare a hole through the bag.
“Jeja, what are we doing,” she heard Grandfather Kim say. He was sitting next to her in the lotus position. She was surprised to see him there. She tried to scrabble to her feet to bow to Grandfather Kim, but he put his hand lightly on her shoulder to keep her down.
“Sorry, Grandfather Kim, I was just contemplating how I could assassinate, destroy and kill that heavy bag. I have been kicking and banging on it for hours and I am not happy with the results.”
“Tell me about your opponent and I can tell you how to fight him. Not all opponents can be fought the same way by different opponents.”
“My opponent is a thick leather bag about four feet tall filled with nearly two hundred pounds of cotton batting and hanging from the ceiling by four large chains. Unfortunately, he can absorb a ton of damage without being hurt.”
“And yet it can be damaged with the right attack,” Grandfather Kim said as he stood. He stood in a right leg back stance, he did a slow back punch on the bag and slowly drew his right hand back to his hip. He straightened out his fingers into a spear head and after a loud, “Keeahh,” he thrust his hand through the leather of the bag. His hand was buried four inches.
They both heard, “Oh geez Grandpa, not another heavy bag, those things cost a lot of money. I am going to the store to buy another roll of duct tape.”
Christie had to giggle, she couldn’t help it. Her mood was much lighter now. Grandfather Kim sat down next to Christie.
“Don’t try a spear hand thrust Jeja, that takes decades of practice to toughen your hands up and you can lose a degree of dexterity in the effort. Tell me how would you fight little Ricky?”
“Oh, god, I hate to contemplate fighting little Ricky, he is so bloody fast, but I would have to keep on the offensive and keep Ricky on his heels. I would attack straight on using front leg snap kicks, back fists, back punches and such. He would turn into a circular attack to diminish its effectiveness. I would use as much power as I could to hurt him.”
“And how would you fight Donnie Colt?”
“Geez, just staying alive against Donnie would be an accomplishment. He leads with his head often, and suffers rage at times. I would have to wear him down. I would fight him almost the opposite of Ricky. I would work on staying out of his wheel house and pepper him with circular attacks. Round kicks, ridge hands, hook kicks. My power attacks didn’t hurt him. He has hardened his body to them. I would target, his head, nerve bundles, solar plexis, knees, elbows, shoulders and gonads if I was fighting him on the street. I would hurt him and run if I could. I know I could run him to death,” she said giggling.
“Yet, that isn’t how Charlie fought him.”
“I am not Charlie any longer,” Christie said, without thinking. She nearly wrenched her neck though as her head spun to look at Grandfather Kim. “You know? How?”
“Jeja, there is much for you to learn, yet. There is more magic than you know of, in this world.”
“Of course, you saved Jimmy from the dog.”
“No good deed should be left undone. I was there changing a tire on my car. The dog burst through the glass door, but I screwed with its mind and sent him running home. The Pritchard’s probably found their dog hiding under his master’s bed. People shouldn’t own such dangerous animals unless they can control them. Unfortunately Mr. Pritchard has a mean streak and paranoia.”
“But I still have the car? Mr. Wilson gave it to me for saving his son’s life.”
“Again, I say no good deed should go undone. I arraigned for you to receive that car. I expect to see you driving that car soon, Jeja. Now back to the issue. Christie, your mind, body and spirit are not in balance. Practice will bring your body and mind into line, but you have much work to bring your spirit in line. You will never find balance till all three are in line. Now what are your strengths now Christie.”
“I have better balance than I ever had. I have great stamina and killer legs,” Christie said giggling. “I mean I feel my round kicks, hook kicks and snap kicks will be great. My side kicks and back kicks will suffer, I am not Charlie anymore, he had twenty-five pounds of muscle I will never have, but my feet are stronger than his. Charlie could never go en pointe. My weaknesses, as long as I am Christie, I will have less power. Also, I may never take a hit like Charlie could. I can improve on that though, but at a cost of my figure. I would need to put on some mass, although I kinda like my figure, I could use a few pounds though, but not as much as I would need. Then it would need to be lean muscle mass and as a girl that’s not going to happen. I could come up with a compromise, though.”
“And what would that be little one.”
“Not getting hit. I have great balance and agility on top of quickness. I would have to be more like Ricky, when before I wanted to be more like Donnie. Charlie was a balance of the two styles.”
“Funny, there is that word balance. Well keep working on your problems child,” Grandfather Kim said, standing and walking off to some other task.
>>>>><<<<<
Christie had a long talk with her Mom about what she learned. Amanda was amazed but not overly so. She knew that there were many more magics than what she possessed; she just didn’t figure crossing some. As she thought about it, it really did fit.
Christie was ready for her tests in mid-August. She would do the white belt test and the yellow belt test later, She knew her poomse well all the way to black belt although she still had to finish re-training her body to do the more advanced poomse. She was just about where she needed to be to do the purple belt poomse.
She had worked on the things that she knew she needed and was doing better, but she still wasn’t happy. Nor should she be she realized. If she was happy with what she was doing she wouldn’t train as hard and she wouldn’t improve as fast as she had.
She even started sparring with Wilma, Ricky, Tracy and Young-Soo, which was strange for a white belt. She also found herself working out with the greens and purples at times. Master Kim or Grandfather Kim would throw her into one of their classes. That always drew some glares and stares.
One thing annoyed her though was Tad, he kept hitting on her for a date. He was two years older and obnoxious as could be. There was no way she would ever date him. She would rather eat broken glass and rusty nails, than date Tad.
>>>>><<<<<
She showed up with her Mom on test day. She was scheduled to go through ninth white test and eight yellow tests. She was also told she might be in seventh yellow test. Amanda brought her digital camera and would be getting copies of the video that the dojang would be recording.
At this test as with all the others they started with the white belts and worked their way up. Christie would have been bored stiff if she wasn’t rooting her friends on. She could help make her friends look good by looking good herself. The ninth white test is short and sweet, there is no sparing and the poomse was so easy.
The eight yellow was a little more challenging but she wasn’t even sweating when she finished her poomse. She received satisfying pops from her dobok on all her techniques. She was the only yellow student who was creating the pops.
She continued on to the seventh yellow test. She had to do some sparring here. There was only one rule in sparring, you had to do your best and not hold back to make your partner look good. She had two bouts and if this was a tournament, she would have trashed both of her opponents. The two bouts were four minutes each two rounds of two minutes each. She wasn’t even breathing hard, when she sat down.
She was surprised when Grandfather Kim called her in for the sixth green test and she wasn’t the only one surprised. She dutifully stood the only white belt in a row of seven, sixth and fifth green belts. This test took a little longer as the green belts had more techniques to demonstrate. She also had three bouts with the green belts.
Her last bout as a greenbelt was against Tad. Grandfather stood in front of her and whispered, “Balance, Jeja. Balance.”
Tad took his stance across from her and looked at Christie. He had a big lecherous grin on his face. Christie took up her position and took a calming breath. Amanda knew of Tad and his reputation, she wanted to call an end to this bout, but held her tongue. She didn’t even cast anything to help her daughter, though she wanted too.
As soon as Wilma called, “Sijak!” Tad came flying across at her. He was throwing a chest high back punch. He wanted to hit her in her boobs. He should have been paying attention in her earlier bouts, she nailed him with a front leg round kick that knocked him down. He didn’t lay a paw on her.
“Kalyeo!” Wilma shouted.
They scored her two points for the kick.
At, “Sijak” Tad danced around for a bit. They both threw a few back fists that didn’t land or were deflected and didn’t score. Tad then shifted a bit back and then launched a back leg snap kick with independent motion to close the distance. Independent motion is like taking a hop instead of a step to close on your opponent. Christie slipped the kick and blocked a back fist as Tad’s momentum carried him by her. She landed a left hand back punch to his rib cage. “Kalyeo!” The score was three to zero.
By the end of the first round Christie was sitting five to one. She scored another ridge hand and a back fist, while Tad managed an awkward back fist that grazed her head gear. After a minutes rest they were called back. Christie could see him twitching, he was on the edge of losing control.
When Wilma called, “Sijak!” Tad came in a bull rush. Christie did something she had learned as a red belt. She started a jump and rotation at the same moment and launched a jump 360 hook kick. She had mercy though and extended her toes landing a very hard slap with the ball of her foot, instead of landing a bone crunching heel. To add insult to injury, she hit him with a round kick that landed on the other cheek, before she touched down. “Kalyeo!” You could have heard a pin drop as Christie drop into a defensive stance.
Tad didn’t wait till the end of their bout, to storm off the mat. He hated himself. He couldn’t beat a girl, a damn girl made a laughing stock out of him. He grabbed his bag and stormed out of the dojo.
Christie was saddened not elated, she turned to Grandfather Kim and said, “Sorry, I was just trying to keep from being hurt. He was losing control.”
“You did nothing wrong. We have been trying to save that one for a while. Nice combo by the way.”
The rest of the test went smoothly they had three purples test and no red or black belts test. After the black belts deliberated the belts were awarded. Christie was given a yellow stripe on her white belt. Then she had to put on a yellow belt and a minute later was given a green stripe on her yellow belt. She got to sit for another minute and was called up to put on a green belt. Only two people failed the test. A fifth green belt (Tad) and a third purple (Grace) failed to advance. Grace twisted an ankle, trying the jump 360 hook kick, early on and had to retire.
After all the students bowed and the black belts filed out the other students mobbed their friends. Christie was attacked by a dozen kids, including the three girls from the ballet school. She playfully called for help as the kids were crawling all over her. When the kids gave her a break she received pats on the back and congratulations from the other people there.
>>>>><<<<<
Pace began to slow down a bit as all the school age kids had to begin to get ready for school. Christie had learned many things and the spell that transformed her helped her learn other things fast. Getting ready for school wasn’t something she instantly knew about. Her mom chided her for waiting so late to learn about some things. Girly things that had nothing to do with ballet or karate.
Karate was scaled back to three times a week thing, Tuesdays, Thursdays in the evenings and Saturdays at ten. Christie spent the next eight days before school learning what it took being a school girl. First there was new clothing. Christie had begun noticing that her bras were now getting tight. She and Amanda went clothes shopping after getting a stack full of teen fashion magazines, to see what would be, “IN” this year. After discussing it with her Mom, they hit the stores starting in Victoria’s Secret.
>>>>><<<<<
Over the Summer Christie had grown of that she was certain. Since she quit the strict diet that was required for ballet and was eating a more sensible diet, the clothes she wore were beginning to get tight. The first thing they did was to take Christie’s measurements. She had been 37-23-34 but now she was a 39-25 ½-36. Her neck was a half inch larger, a half inch across her biceps, a quarter of an inch at her wrists, high bust was three quarters an inch larger, her low bust was a half inch larger and her trunk measurement (from the top of one shoulder through her crotch and back to the shoulder) was an inch and a half longer. Christie then went to the kitchen. Her mom, since she was a child, had made marks on the door sill to mark her height on her birthday. Christie had grown one and three quarters of an inch taller since June and was now five foot seven and three fourths. Amanda had her step on her scale. It was one of those fancy scales that measure body fat, retained water and muscle mass.
They sat down and compared the readings from June, July and August. She had gained eleven pounds since June and was now one hundred twenty nine. Her body was retaining a percent and half more water, which wasn’t a bad thing, her body fat was up two percent and her muscle mass was five percent higher. According to the charts she had been given, in five weeks she had fallen out of dancing form, but she was actually closer to a healthy norm.
Christie still had to pinch herself to measure fat the way that Madame Coulter had measured her girls. She was most concerned about her waist. She didn’t want to look like a fat slob in Karate. Even though she had gained two and a half inches at her waist she still couldn’t pinch any more skin than she had at twenty-three inches. They both probed her belly with their hands.
“I don’t know what to tell you Christie, it feels like solid muscle mass to me. In fact if feels more solid than when you danced, if that is even possible. You are not getting fat. In fact you might be leaner at your wasit.”
“I just don’t want get fat.”
“As much as you like to exercise, darling that will never happen. You are just eating like a normal teenage girl, a girl that doesn’t want to get fat. Looking at you, except for your bust, you are leaner than average. Look at me, am I fat?”
“No mom, you look great.”
Amanda undressed down to her underwear and had Christie measure her. Amanda was larger than Christie everywhere.
“Christie I am 40-30-39 and you said, that I am not fat.”
“You have a great bod Mom.”
“Unless you go crazy at the pizza parlor, this is your body in twenty years. If you don’t have any children you could even have a better body. That is if you remain a girl.”
“I had almost forgotten about that.”
“That is you adapting to your situation baby. You won’t forget when the time comes for you to choose. I wouldn’t let you forget, on top of that.”
“I don’t know Mom. There are things I like about being a girl and things I miss being Charlie. I just don’t know.”
“I know baby, just remember that whatever you chose, you’re still the most important person in the world to me. Now let’s look at a clothing chart and check for our sizes. I feel like getting some new clothes too.”
“Can’t you just zap the clothes to fit,” Christie asked.
“Now where would the fun be then, besides magic is too important to use so trivially. Now if you went skinny dipping and someone stole your clothes, that would be different, as would casting a spell that would make the thieves fit the clothes they stole, would be justice. But don’t do that, that could open a whole different can of worms. Magic can seeks balance. What was changed one place might appear elsewhere. You might prevent rain on somebody’s wedding day, just to cause a flood elsewhere. Revenge can kill two is another saying we have. There are times for bold magic, but many more times when no magic or subtle is best.”
>>>>><<<<<
The last eight days before school Christie spent getting ready to go back to school. She had to learn how to get ready for school. She already knew how to get dressed and such, but she knew it would take her longer to get ready in the mornings. Christie wasn’t exactly a morning person, but neither was she a sleepy head. So she and her Mom came up with a plan for the next three mornings they would get up and get dressed and go out the door each morning in enough time for Christie to get to school.
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Notes:
Charlie McKellar- 16 year old 1 st red belt Taekwondo, teaches the kids under fifteen classes; Mother Amanda McKellar; becomes Christie McKellar, Ballet student
Amanda McKellar- mother of Charlie
Kim Young-Soo- 38 year old 5 th dan black belt World Taekwondo Federation, owner of Young-Soo Karate
Master Kim- Kim Young-Min 60 year old Father of Young-Soo 10 th dan black belt WTF
Kim Young-Ja- aka “Grandfather Kim”- 10 th Dan black belt Grandfather of Young-Soo moved from Pyongyang to Seoul in May 1949 before the start of the Korean conflict. Taught Karate to RoK Army from 1950 till 1962 then emigrated to the US in 1969. Hardly teaches karate anymore but is still a fixture at the dojo.
Donnie Colt- 18 year old Black 1 st red belt friend and main adversary of Charlie, also Studies Ju-Jitsu and Muay-Thai hopes to get into Mixed Martial Arts fighting. He teaches kids classes with Charlie and adults with Wilma. Good guy until you get him mad. You don’t want to see him mad.
Madame Coulter- Renee Coulter- Tyrannical Ballet instructor
Lisa Brandt- 16 year old ballet student and adversary of Christie McKellar, your average no good spoiled rotten girl
Tracy Sullivan- 6 th green belt 17
Robert ‘Tad’ Green 6 th green belt not a good guy, hates Charlie and Donnie with a passion
Cindy Stevens- 12 year old 8 th gold belt. Also a ballet student. A shy timid girl.
Wilma Davis- 20 year old 1 st dan Black Belt Teaches most of the green, blue and red belt and adult classes a svelte, wiry, tenacious opponent who gives to Charlie and Donny as good as she gets. She is good but…
Ricky Summers- 13 year old junior black belt excellent on forms and just fair in sparring
Comments
Honestly, Paula ...
... this is good just as it is. There are places you could take it (and probably would have), but works fine as an "adjusting to an unexpected transformation" story. Charlie/Christie is a nice person and makes good choices, the story moves along at a brisk pace, and everyone around him/her is a solid character.
Thanks for posting this ... and writing it in the first place! *grin*
Randa
Love this story about
Charlie/Christie and how she was able to help the other ballet students as well as how she is becoming the accomplished martial arts student that Charlie was.
May Your Light Forever Shine
Excellent!
I just loved this story. I, as a former dancer, never studied with a teacher like "Madame" but I have certainly seen a few. Pathetic.
I truly hope that there is more of this story coming.
Thank you,
Joani
Reminds me of
Madame Vishneva(a cousin of the Prima Ballerina), For 6 months we put up with her. Then an ABT Dancer Gabrielle Brown retired and opened up a new studio She was a blast to learn from and a few of my friends from those classes went onto dance with ABT. Funny now I practice Isshin-Ryu, though will probably never get t the higher levels.
Loved the story, really would love to see more, dealing with her magic as well as her growth in Martial Arts. Maybe she can save Ted.
Goddess Bless you
Love Desiree
next ?
I really enjoyed this and do hope you are considering another soon ????
Loved the pace of the story even though I was a bit shaken when he changed over night. With a lot of new memories and info it took a min to get my head around it :) but 5 star.
Thank you for posting
good story
just one mistake. Pit bulls are not large dogs. The type and size of the dog you described in the story is more like a chow dog. Chows are part bear part wolf dogs bred for fighting in Asia a long time ago. They are strong enough to toss around a full grown man let alone a child and are quite large. They are also stronger than a pit bull.
Sure it's unfinished...
... but on the other hand many other stories on here are, and are still worth reading. I liked this story as far as it went, I'd like to see more of it if you ever get back to write on it again.
Joy
Always a pleasure to read your stories...Jackie Anna
Different
Not the usual paean to malls, makeup, and materials (fashions). When mom got the itch to take her new daughter on yet another mall crawl trawl, that was a great place to stop.
…you don’t want to put the fashion industry out of business, do you?”
That sudden, literally overnight transformation was a bit jarring to me also, but having the new girl return to the old Dojang provided the much-needed continuity. An interesting exercise, refreshingly different.
what a great story
wish there was more
A very good story
Love the magic angle. Very nice touch. 19th dan.... mmmmmmm I WAS in TKD for 3-4 years... 1st dan.
Love Samantha Renée Heart.