Part 8 - Christie's Life - November Through December

Christie scanned the school cafeteria as she set her lunch tray down on her usual table. Just another Monday lunch at good old Dolley Madison High, she mused with a smile. She remained standing until she saw Valerie heading her way. Good company was the sole saving grace for lunch. DMHS claimed the meals served by the cafeteria were highly nutritious, but they never seemed particularly appetizing. Both girls had their default meal - large salad, dressing on the side, and skim milk.

"Hey, Christie!" Val sparkled as she sat down across from her friend. "You put on a really great belt test on Saturday, especially your sparring! Must be all that great training you've gotten beating on your best friend."
Christie giggled. "Well, it definitely helped me raise my game, oh best friend of mine. If you ever learn to be a little more killer in your approach, you will be even tougher."

"Yeah, about that, girlfriend. What got into Rickey Martin!? I've never seen him fight like that! You got that quick double strike combo in on him right off the bell, and he went ballistic on you. You two went toe-to-toe for the whole five minutes and never scored an unchallenged point on either of you. After your first combination and then Rickey's flying kick, every blow, kick and strike was blocked or countered. It was awesome."

"Well, I've never scrapped with Rickey before," in this timeline, anyway, Christie added to herself. "But I've watched him often enough. He always relies on his quickness to stay away from his opponent's wheelhouse and then sneak in for one of his barely-score-able kicks or strikes. I'm pretty much as quick as he is, and I told him I was coming for him. Then I caught him with that first combo which wasn't QUITE a cheap shot. That sure got his attention."

"And that's all it took?" Valerie was skeptical. Ricky's less than aggressive fighting style was well known in the dojang and had recently been the subject of much special training for the young junior black belt. Valerie caught the quick smirk on Christie's face before she could hide it. "Okay, McKellar, give! What's the deets, girl?"

Now Christie blushed. "Well, maybe? Like right before Grandfather ordered Si Jak? I might have observed that male mosquitoes don't have stingers."

Valerie burst out laughing. "You Didn't! YOU DID!! That's why you were able to catch him with that first combo, wasn't it?" At Christie's smug nod, Valerie laughed even harder. "Well, I guess you told him, and then he showed you! Looks like you helped him grow a pair!"

"Rickey doesn't lack courage, Val. He just got used to winning junior matches that way and has been a little over-cautious now that he has to spar with the more experienced adult red and black belts. We'll have to wait and see how that match carries over into his future sparring."

The two girls spent a few more minutes reviewing the details of the bout before their conversation turned to school and other items of what Christie still thought of as 'girl stuff.' That residual bit of her that was still Charlie cringed whenever they started discussing boys, fashion, boys, other girls, boys . . .etc. However, as usual, Christie shoved Charlie aside and got into it with her girlfriend.

Christie was getting ready to take her tray back when she saw something out of the corner of her eye and almost groaned. "God, there's Tad again. Val, is it my imagination, or is he around a lot more than he used to be? I mean, he's not in our grade or any of our classes, but lately, he seems to be where I am lately."

Valerie frowned at her friend. "Girl, you need to step up your situational awareness. He's been on you since school started. I thought you knew because he couldn't spell subtlety if you gave him all the letters in the right order. I will say that lately? He's been . . .I don't know, more annoyed? Unhappy? Pissed? When he's looking at you?"

"Really? Oh, CRAP, he's heading this way! What the heck does he want?"

"You. Or payback," Val said softly. "Maybe both."

Christie tried to avoid Tad by getting up to take her tray back, but he moved to block her. "Hello, Christie," he said rather arrogantly. "I hear you don't have a date for the Winter Ball. I've decided to save you from your wallflower existence and escort you as my date." The heavy emphasis he put on the word 'my' immediately got Christie's back up.

Christie decided to try taking the high road, at least at first. Holding her tray as a shield, she deliberately answered him, "That's true. I don't have a date for the Ball, but that's because I'm not going. Thank you for the offer, but I must say no. Now, if you will excuse us, we need to get to our next class."

She made to step around him, but Tad moved to keep blocking her. "You obviously didn't hear me, Christie," and she wondered when her name had become a curse word. "I SAID, I've decided you're going to be my date, now say,
'Yes, thank you, Tad, I'd be delighted.'"

"No." She started to move again, but Tad reached out, grabbing her arm this time. Christie made a show of staring down at the offending hand and then looking hard into Tad's eyes. "Take. Your. Hand. Off. Me. Don't you remember our school's sexual harassment training, asshole? No. Means. No! Now get the hell away from me!"

Tad saw that a crowd had formed around them, and they were taking in the confrontation. They saw him shut down by a girl, and that was simply NOT acceptable. Dropping his voice low, intending that one she could hear him, he growled, "You need to shut up and be a good girl, McKellar. There are no pussy referees around to save your little girl ass this time! And I KNOW you won't do anything so crass here in school, but you aren't here all the time. Now, I've decided. Shut up and deal!"

She was about to scream for a teacher when a hand appeared on Tad's shoulder from behind him, causing him to wince from the force of the grip. "You know, Tad-stool? I was actually there in the dojang when you got your clock cleaned by Christie." Tad turned and found himself staring into the eyes of a highly pissed-off Craig Breeder. "Seems to me, asshole, that the way I remember it was that the referee saved your lily-white ass from getting kicked even worse than it did in that bout. Now, back off before she decides she really needs to hurt you!"

The two boys' eyes remained locked until Craig increased his grip on Tad's pressure point, nearly making his legs buckle and breaking his hold on Christie. "Oh, another thing, jerk-wad. If anything happens to Christie? On or off-campus? Anytime? You'll answer to the entire football team. You understand? Your fault, somebody's fault, nobody's fault. It won't matter. Anything happens, and we will find you, and you will pay. Now get the hell out of here."

"BREEDER? What was that? You know the athletic department's policy on bullying."

Craig just kept watching Tad as he scurried away. "Nothing like that, Coach. Just a friendly reminder about school traditions and courtesies. No problem."

"It better not have been! I don't want to hear you've been suspended for fighting, buster."

Craig just grinned at his glowering football coach. "No worries, Coach. You won't."

Evidently satisfied by what had been said and not said, the Coach gave a stiff nod, turned on his heel and strode away. Once he was out of earshot, Craig turned to Christie and Valerie. "You okay? Do you need to see the nurse for that arm?" Christie glanced at the coloring bruise, sniffed indifferently and shook her head. "Didn't think so. Just so you know? We - that is, the football team - are really grateful to you for not crippling our quarterback last week right before the playoffs. Marty has been getting a little too much star treatment lately, and it went to his head. We had a little team meeting last week and counseled his sorry butt. I don't think he'll be pulling that crap much in the future. Well, I'm gonna be late. See you later, girls!"

Valerie and Christie were left standing there, holding their trays, wondering what had just happened.

~-~

As Christie headed for the dojang dressing room after her class, she felt again that she was really missing dancing. Anybody but Tad, and she might have said yes to an invitation to the Ball. Assuming that 'anybody else' showed a little courtesy, but for the chance to dance, again? Oh, yeah, she thought. Any other dance, and she might have gone stag (or was it 'hind' for Christie since she was a girl? Stag-ette?). However, the Ball was formal, so that wouldn't be appropriate.

God, but she needed to DANCE! She hurried to her locker, stripped out of her dobok and donned her running shorts and a t-shirt. Grabbing her iPod, she ran to the small studio where she'd begun studying meditation with Papa Kim. She scanned her music library quickly and found her 'fast dance' playlist. She wanted to MOVE. Taking a starting position in the center of the room, hit play, and heard the opening notes of ELO's 'Rock and Roll is King' sound in her ears. And she was off and dancing.

She'd been watching many dance videos on YouTube lately, thinking about how she'd dance to this song. She actually hadn't choreographed anything - yet - for this particular mix, so she improvised. What came out was a little bit of Salsa, a little Korean Gangnam, and a little Samba, all jumbled up with moves from her favorite Poomsae. It was fast, athletic and very satisfying.

When the playlist finally ended, and she was standing back in the center of the studio sweating, she was surprised to hear someone clapping. Spinning about to face the door, she found Grandfather Kim leaning against the wall, applauding.

"I saw you come in here alone, Jeja," Grandfather said. "I wanted to ensure you remembered our agreement that you wouldn't attempt the meditation techniques alone until I told you it would be okay. But then, I just had to stay for the show. That was a very energetic and theatrical dancing exhibition, Christie. Evidently, we are not working you hard enough in class if you need to do this after everyone else is finished. Take a shower and go home, Jeja. We will work more on your meditation after your next class." Then, he stepped out of the studio, leaving a somewhat confused Christie behind him.

~-~

Thanksgiving came and went. With only her Mother and Grandmother as close family, Christie primarily focused her time on her sorcery studies. She worked with her Mom, learning more about her healing abilities, while her Grandmother oversaw her training in Fire Magic. Both senior sorceresses contributed to her "general sorcery training," which was essentially how to manage and use magical energy. They'd intentionally let her 'empty her tank' during one such training session, 'so you know what it feels like and will know to avoid it in the future!'

Yeah. Absolutely to avoided. She'd felt like she suffered from a fusion of a hangover, a world-class migraine and then had been kicked in the head by an angry mule! It took her most of a day before her magical reserves replenished enough that her Mom could begin to 'heal' her.

Evidently, 'sharing' energy from one sorcerer to another was not a viable technique. She'd asked! So she'd suffered, mostly in stoic silence, and promised she'd never do that to herself again!

As the holiday weekend came to a close, Mom and her Grandmother decided that practical demonstrations of her developing abilities were required. Grandmother's test was for Christie to light a fire in their fireplace, without kindling and without physically touching the wood! Nor was it allowed for her to throw a fireball at the darn logs. Nope! Christie had to blink or twitch her nose or wave her hands to start the fire. All while sitting on the sofa on the other side of the room! She'd finally managed it, and the resulting headache hadn't been TOO awful. Her Mom 'healed' her as a celebration gift. Ahhhh. . . .

Christie's relief hadn't been Amanda's only reason when she'd done it. Nope. Christie had to demonstrate her new and improved healing abilities to her Mom's satisfaction. She wondered briefly what or who she was supposed to heal. Then her Mother materialized a shiny, stainless steel scalpel in her left hand and used it to cut a gash half an inch deep and more than three inches long in her right forearm. Acckkk!

"You do remember, don't you, dear," her Mother asked calmly, "That a sorceress can't heal herself? Or that your Grandmother doesn't have any healing talent? Hey! Are you going to stand there and let me bleed all over the floor??!"

This was entirely TOO practical a test from Christie's perspective, but she'd risen to the challenge. There wasn't too bad a mess on the floor when she'd finally stopped the bleeding and closed the gash. She'd even managed to remove the scar, too, although that bloody headache had come roaring back before she'd finished.
The good news was that her Mom 'healed' her again. The 'all right news' was that her Mother had carefully selected the cut sight for maximum apparent blood and minimum real danger. The bad news was that Christie was the one who got to clean up the blood as her penalty for 'not being quick enough, dear.' To quote a specific Charles Schultz character's favorite line? "ARRRGGH!"

~-~

After Thanksgiving, December blew in with the first hints of winter and myriad holiday season events. Christie already had a pretty full plate with school, taekwondo and her sorcery training. Holiday shopping, parties and school midterm exams didn't make managing her time any more straightforward.

Fortunately, most of her holiday shopping was done - yes, she was one of THOSE folks who shopped throughout the fall. She still had a few 'friend gifts' to buy, most notably something for Valerie and some small things for the girls she had brought to the dojang from the ballet studio.

At the dojang, Christie had continued to work with those girls in the class, usually under Wilma's watchful eye, who continued to be amazed at how hard Christie worked her girls. In fact, Cindy, Kelly and Carly were all scheduled to test for their next belt when the dojang held its last testing day of the year, the Saturday before Christmas. Christie wouldn't be taking an advancement test herself. She hadn't completed enough qualifying training hours since her Green Belt test. She was still going to attend the test day to cheer on her girls and to be available to spar with one or two of the more advanced students who were testing.

Once she'd looked at her schedule for the month, Christie was happy that Valerie was in most of her classes, especially the more difficult ones. She had her BFF as an on-call study partner. How cool was that?

Simultaneous girl time and test preps! If something had to give in her schedule, it couldn't be her schoolwork or test preparations. Having her best girl pal as a study buddy just worked great all around! The studying got done, but they'd be able to take a break when they needed one, right? You bet!

Midterms were scheduled the last week before Winter Break. Report cards would be available online by Christmas Eve. After finishing her school exams, Valerie and her family would be out of town to spend the holidays in Florida with her grandparents. And, of course, to bake in the sun and come back after New Year with an indecently lovely suntan! Mom, Grandmother Rebekah and Christie did not have a great deal planned for the holidays. They would take in The Nutcracker in Philadelphia, but mostly, they planned to continue Christie's intensive sorcery training.

That was fine with her. Just last week, one of the red belts had severely sprained an ankle and wouldn't be able to test this time. Christie had wanted to help her injured friend using her healing abilities. However, she was still too untrained and inexperienced to make that attempt and accepted that truth. Her Mom always emphasized that sometimes, no healing is better than poor healing. Christie was aware that she would probably not even recognize 'poor healing,' so she'd stayed back and let Master Kim and Grandfather deal with the injury.

But she'd just wanted to help SO intensely!

~-~

Christie hated it when she finished school testing week and felt she'd done well on her tests. A little healthy pessimism meant she'd be unlikely to be disappointed when her results got posted. Still, she was confident she'd aced all of the tests but economics. Even that should come back with a strong 'B' grade. Waiting stunk!

She arrived at the dojang at her usual time on test day, got dressed and did her stretching and warming up as if there would be a regular class. As they arrived, Christie gathered her girls and, after they got dressed, put them through a quick workout so that they were all warm on confident going into the test sessions. And if she happened to run them through a test-like routine - a couple of times? Looked like they were all ready!

They were. All three girls just blew the testers away. The demonstrations, the simple Poomsae - spot on. Christie was just so proud of her girls. She was literally bouncing up and down as each was called up, by name, to receive their next belt. Cindy was the last one since they were called up in alphabetical order. She spun about, caught sight of Christie, and sprinted towards her.

Christie braced herself, expecting the younger girl to barrel right into her. Instead, Cindy went airborne nearly five feet away from Christie. Instinctively, Christie brought her arms up, expecting to catch the girl on her way down, but Cindy was just reaching the apex of her leap as Christie latched onto the younger girl's hips. Christie didn't know where the maneuver came from, but she had pressed Cindy over her head. Cindy just went with it - arching over the lift with her arms and legs extended for balance.

Christie did a stepping turn, displaying Cindy, and then gently returned her to the mat. The look of pure unmitigated pleasure on the girl's face was almost blinding. She'd been happy to get her belt; she'd been ecstatic to dance and fly. Her feet had barely touched the mat when she leaped again, wrapping Christie in a huge hug. "That was so GREAT!" She crowed, "Thank you, Christie, for everything!"

"You are welcome, Cindy. Congratulations. Come on, now. I think your Mom wants to congratulate you, too." Taking her hand, Christie led her over to her beaming Mom at a brisk trot. Hugs, kisses and praise were generously made and returned.

Later, when the post-test, pre-holiday party was in full swing, Christie sought out Cindy. "Hey, Cindy. I've been doing a little improvisational dancing after karate class on Mondays. If you'd like to join me?" Once again, Christie found herself with full arms as Cindy hugged her.

"Yes, PLEASE!" She shouted. "Let me go ask my Mom, okay?"

~-~

Christie sighed as she looked up the stairs towards her Mother's bedroom. Best laid plans, and all that, she thought, a little down. Her Mom had come down with a nasty case of the flu, with only a few days left until Christmas, putting their plans for more sorcery training on hold. Grandmother Rebekah was due to arrive on Christmas Eve, but that was on hold, too. This particular strain was tough on older folks. Having Gran here might be too risky for her without Mom's healing talents available if she caught the bug.

Christie was doing her best to nurse her Mom. Trying to get her to stay hydrated was a big concern as she'd been able to keep very little down over the past twenty-four hours. Christie was worried and thought about trying a little healing of her own - just a little - but her Mom had squelched that idea. At least when she had when she'd been awake. Dammit, Christie growled to herself; her Mother was suffering, and she wouldn't let her daughter even try to help her!

A sound from upstairs got her attention, so she moved to the stairs and listened. A faint voice was calling her name - Mom needed her! Christie raced up the stairs and found her Mother struggling to get out of bed. "Mother!" She growled.

"Got . . .to go. . .bathroom. Aunt . . .Flo . . Arrived. Want. . .clean. Need. . .pads."

"Well, crap! How do you throw a penalty flag on the universe for piling on? Here, Mom, lean on me and I'll get you to the toilet and then get your supplies and clean undies. Here we go," she said softly. "Atta Momma. Just let me do the work."

Christie worked quickly, helping her Mom get cleaned up and redressed before leaving her to care for her feminine protection needs. She'd tried to help there but had been somewhat angrily told to be somewhere else.

Christie gathered up her Mother's soiled night clothes and took them to the laundry to soak. When she got back to the bathroom, her Mother was practically asleep on the toilet. Taking advantage of Amanda's insensibility, Christie ensured her Mother had adequately protected herself before trying to rouse her to get her back to bed.

Back in bed, Christie checked Amanda's temperature - just over a hundred - and left to get a basin of lukewarm water and a clean washcloth. She kept the cooling compresses on her Mom's forehead for the next hour and finally felt her begin to cool.

Without warning, her Mother suddenly curled into a fetal position crying as cramps began to wrack her abdomen. Furious at her inability to be more helpful to her Mom, Christie decided to 'look' with her healer's sight. Her Mom was crying, damn it! She wouldn't look at the flu bug, she thought. That was probably beyond her, but a period? That wasn't even a sickness, was it? She could just look and make sure that's all this was; her Mom had a bad period at a terrible time. And if Mom didn't like her looking? Too bad. She could dish out punishment later. When she felt better!

Carefully, Christie slipped one hand onto her Mother's stomach and the other onto her lower back. She had to work at getting her hand on the tummy as her Mom was still rolled up into a ball around her cramping abdomen.

Centering herself as she'd been taught by Grandfather Kim, she began to probe Amanda's internal organs as she had taught her daughter. Christie couldn't find anything wrong except for her stomach muscles being rigidly under full tension. Mom's muscles were cramping due to the double whammy of her monthly visitor and her badly dehydrated body chemistry. She wasn't healing if she didn't fix anything, was she? She could ease the cramping - force those muscles to relax. It wasn't like she was curing a disease or healing a three-inch-long gash. She could do the same thing with a massage. Or, she could if she could have actually touched the muscles.

Slowly, Christie started feeding her healing energy into her Mother's core, 'telling' her overstressed muscles to relax. When she heard her Mom give a quiet sigh and settle out of the tight ball she was in, Christie wanted to jump up and down and cheer, but she didn't. She maintained her link and fed her energy into her Mom's poor, abused tummy.

Christie finally broke the link before overspending her own energy reserves, but it seemed to have been enough. Amanda was now resting quietly, or as quietly as a feverish flu victim could rest. Christie tip-toed out of the room and went to make preparations for the night. She planned to be close at hand if her Mom had another of the cramping episodes and to help her get to the bathroom if that was necessary.

~-~

The first light of dawn was sneaking through her bedroom shades when Amanda woke up, needing to use the bathroom. Carefully, she sat up and then slid to the edge of her bed so she could put her feet on the floor. She just stayed there for a few moments, waiting to see if her world would start spinning again. It didn't. In fact, she thought she was feeling better - definitely not feverish.

A voice called from behind her. "Mom, you need some help?" Turning, she saw Christie's head peeking up above her mattress.

"Christie, what are you doing there?" She asked.

"Well, I was sleeping, but if you need the bathroom, I'm here to make sure you make it okay. Just let me get up out of my sleeping bag here."

Everything went much more quickly than they had last night - Amanda even managed two whole swallows of water. "Let's make sure that stays down, Mom. I'll get you something more filling to work with if it does, okay?. I made some Jello last night, and I've got chicken broth ready to heat."

"I hate Jello, Christie, and you darn well know it!"

"And the doctor said to get as much of it as I can down your throat. Are you going to be a good girl, or do I have to get tough?"

"What's getting tough?" Amanda asked cautiously.

"Oh, I'd hand feed it to you, holding your nose until you open your mouth to breathe and then stuff it down your throat. Very undignified, Mom. I don't recommend it."

"Never thought I'd want to call my daughter a bitch," Amanda muttered.

"I am my Mother's daughter. That's me! Let's get you back to bed, sunshine, and I'll go get your broth."
Amanda actually ate the soup and the gelatin quite willingly, as her body was almost screaming for liquid.

"Now, if that stays down, then later, I'll give you a small glass of Gatorade to replenish your electrolyte balance and help with your cramps."

"Cramps! Christie, the last thing I remember last night was my whole body locking up in the most miserable cramps, then nothing. And my tummy muscles aren't even sore this morning. They should be after cramps like that! What. . .?

"'Scuse me, Mom, but I think I hear the dryer bleating. You just rest. Try to drink a little more water when you can. I'll be back in a few."

"Christie McKellar? What did you do, damn it?" Amanda yelled after her swiftly departing daughter, only to hear nothing in reply except maybe a giggle. "CHRIS-TIE!!! Blast the girl! I'll have her butt! I told her no healing on me!"

~-~