Mind, Body and Spirit Redux
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Author's Note: This story was posted unfinished by Paula Dillon after working on it for two years when writer's block struck. Chapter 1 consists of her originally posted story that has been edited in concert with the extension and completion of the story jointly authored by Paula and Tigger.
Mind, Body and Spirit
by
Paula Dillon
Author's Note: Korean terms used in the story's Karate classes are parenthetically translated the first time the term is used in a chapter. For example GOMAN! (stop) CHARYUT! (attention). A glossary of such terms is contained in Appendix B of Part 1 for future reference.
~-~
Mind, Body and Spirit
Chapter 1 - Testing and Other Trials
Edited by Tigger
Fifteen-year-old Charlie walked into Kim Young-Soo’s Karate Dojang, his forty-five-pound gear bag dangling from his shoulder. The gear bag which had seemed so heavy eight years ago when he’d begun this journey, was hardly noticeable to the young man these days. Charlie was physically in terrific shape, standing five foot seven inches tall, weighing in at one hundred forty pounds of solid lean muscle and bone, all with less than five percent body fat.
Charlie took off his shoes and put them in the box the dojang had assigned for them, he then headed directly to the men’s dressing room. Donnie Colt was already there getting dressed for today’s class. Charlie and Donnie both held the rank of First Geup (red belts with black stripes) and were preparing for their black belt test in three weeks. As a result, both were being worked extremely hard by their teachers to ensure they passed the challenging tests on their first attempts.
Donnie was an eighteen-year-old, dark-skinned black kid, who stood just a hair under six feet and a biscuit over two hundred and twenty pounds. He was massive! Donnie's biceps were bigger around than Charlie's thighs, and on top of that, finding an ounce of fat anywhere on his muscular body would be nigh impossible.
Charlie thanked God, every day he came to the dojang, that he and Donnie were friends. Since they were at the same level of training, they were most often paired off with or against each other in class. As skilled as little Charlie had become, it would not go well for him if Donnie didn't like him, or heaven forbid, hated him. Just bracing the heavy bag for Donnie when he was practicing his kicks and punches could be painful for the person supporting the bag for him. Donnie was just that powerful!
Charlie took the tag end of his red belt in his left hand, wrapping the belt twice around his waist before tying it off with a square knot. Straightening, he adjusted his dobok (uniform) before looking up at Donnie.
“Man, you know they are going to work our sorry asses into the ground today,” Donnie groused.
Charlie chuckled and smiled at Donnie, “Yeah, our black belt tests are 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 was reaching down to pick up his gear bag when Donnie picked him up under one arm, tucking him into his hip and before picking up both their heavy gear bags with his other arm.
“Put me down you stupid goon,” Charlie complained loudly. “You’re a sorry sack of shit, you know that?”
Donnie just ignored his smaller friend and headed into the dojang, Charlie complaining all the way. Dropping the bags beside the mat, still carrying Charlie, Donnie headed out to the center of the mat.
"GOMAN! (stop) CHARYUT! (attention)," an authoritative voice rang out.
Reacting immediately to the command, Donnie unceremoniously dropped Charlie on the floor and snapped to attention facing the Korean flag. Charlie landed with an ‘umph’, rolled over, did a ‘kip up’ off the floor, and came 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.
Taking charge, Wilma began the class. “Kyungnet (bow)! Turn and bow to Grandfather Kim. Kyungnet!. Bow to Master Kim and Young-Soo, Kyungnet. Bow to me, Kyungnet!”
Wilma turned and faced the three Kims who were seated beside the mat, acting as judges. “I present 1st Geup red belt students, Donnie Colt and Charlie McKellar, preparing to test for black belt, 1st Dan,” she said formally, bowing to them. “They will be performing ‘Koryo Poomsae’.”
Students testing for black belt are required to know and must be able to demonstrate many Poomsae or standard forms. During their advancement test, they would typically be asked to perform four or five such exercises for the judges. They would not know before the actual test, which of a dozen Poomsae they would be called on to perform, but Koryo was one Poomsae they would most definitely have to do proficiently to pass the test.
Wilma stepped away from the mat and took a seat on the floor in front of the three Kims.
“SIJAK! (begin).” Grandfather Kim’s strong voice ordered.
Donnie and Charlie moved efficiently to the Poomse's starting position in unison and began their form. They had practiced doing all the required forms together many times. During belt tests, it was common for students testing for the same belt to be called on to perform them together. Not only did it save time, but it also allowed the judges to compare the students as they moved through the forms. Students learned early that it was best to keep in sync with their fellow students when performing as a group. Group Poomsae look tremendous when everyone stayed in step and unison, but if a student fell out of sync with the rest, it immediately stood out like a sore thumb to the observers . . . or the judges.
Both students’ doboks snapped and popped as they punched, kicked, or blocked their imaginary opponents’ strikes. Frayed sleeves and pant legs were often a result of all that popping and snapping, and thus were seen as a badge of honor among their peers. A martial arts student quickly learned to beware of any opponent whose dobok sported frayed sleeves or pant legs.
Donnie was good at forms, very good in fact, but not quite in the same league as Charlie. Charlie's moves were sharper and more precise. Together, the two young men were pure poetry in motion. Bare milliseconds, hardly noticeable, separated the pair as they transitioned smoothly from one move to the next until they finished together and bowed.
“Demonstrate Poomsae One, Three, Five and Eight.” Master Kim commanded. “Sijak!”
The federation that oversaw the style of Taekwondo taught by the Kims had a list of standard forms that were required skills for each belt rank. During class or testing, the forms could be called out by the teacher by either name or number, and in any order the instructors directed. Students were required to know them by both name and number, and then perform the directed exercises flawlessly.
Having satisfactorily demonstrated their forms, they were then each called upon to demonstrate proficiency with two weapons. Donnie performed routines employing nunchuks (two batons joined by a chain) and then tonfa (short batons with a side handle, used in pairs), while Charlie demonstrated bo and kamas (short scythe-like weapons, used in pairs).
Both students were skilled and employed their weapons well. Meeting either of them in a dark alley with evil intent would result in a very bad day for whatever fool might have decided to challenge them.
For the final part of this practice test, they were required to gear up. Master Kim, Young-Soo, Wilma, Donnie and Charlie all donned their punches, kicks, headgear, mouthpieces and cups for the guys, and for Wilma a chest guard and separate chest protector.
Grandfather Kim was the designated Joo Sim or referee for the first planned bouts. First, Donnie went up against one of the black belts for three minutes and then he sat, while Charlie went up against another black belt. Donnie then sparred with two black belts at the same time and afterward, Charlie did the same. Finally, Charlie and Donnie had to face each other in a scored five-minute bout. Young-Soo was designated Joo Sim for this bout and he directed them both to put on chest protectors before starting.
Donnie was training to enter MMA (Mixed Martial Arts) as a professional competitor and sometimes in the past had trouble keeping contact during sparring to a moderate level. Donnie’s strengths as a fighter were his 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 had much shorter reaction times and moved accordingly. During a contest like this bout, his quickness and agility allowed him to avoid, counter or mitigate many of Donnie’s attacks. Sparring for points, such as they would be required to do for their tests, favored Charlie’s strengths. Ordinarily, he would win perhaps sixty-five percent of the bouts against Donnie. Full contact sparring was a completely different story as that favored Donnie’s strength and his power. Donnie would win those contests at least seventy percent of the time, if not more. Charlie needed every skill and trick he’d learned in eight years of study to be able to compete with Donnie. Both knew, however, that Young-Soo would see to it that both kids would survive this encounter without serious injury.
Young-Soo called “Sijak!” And the pair closed on each other. Their purpose was to fight as hard as they could, as skillfully as they could, while the other black belts, including Ricky Summers who’d just earned his junior black belt, scored the bout. This was also a test for young Ricky, as well as an honor due to his new rank.
For scoring purposes, Donnie wore a white scarf on his belt, while Charlie wore a red scarf. When one or the other combatant scored a strike, Young-Soo would call "Kalyeo! (stop)", and the contestants would stop fighting for the scoring to be awarded. Each of the judges would then raise either a red flag for Charlie's favor, a white flag to vote for Donnie, or no flag if they didn't see the blow. Whoever got the most votes would be awarded the point. Young-Soo would only vote in case of a tie.
Charlie knew precisely what his primary job had to be in this bout - stay alive. His points would come, mostly on counters or quick openings, unless Donnie overwhelmed him for a quick victory. As they began circling, he scored first with a back fist to Donnie's temple which looked much harder to a spectator than it actually had been. The contestants in this type of bout were trying to hit their opponent just hard enough to score, but also without injuring them badly.
Everyone in the dojang held their breath for a moment after Charlie's point because they knew that Donnie had problems if he got nailed too hard, hit with a cheap shot, or ridiculed by an opponent during the bout. If Donnie lost it and began to get angry, he could be like Bruce Banner the Incredible Hulk. Donnie was really difficult to like when he got angry, especially with his opponent.
Young-Soo's responsibility was to end the bout if things ever got to that point. With the help and guidance of the Kims, and to his credit, Donnie had gotten much better about that. Young-Soo was one of the main reasons that Donnie wasn't in prison at this time in his young life. He had worked tirelessly to help Donnie focus and balance his spirit. Even so, everyone knew that Charlie would not survive a Donnie Colt rage.
Both contestants showed themselves well and the score stayed close throughout the contest. As the bout was drawing to an end, Charlie held a slim one-point advantage over his bigger, stronger opponent. The action became more intense as the fighters continued to trade punches and kicks, until just before the clock wound down, Donnie scored to tie the match up - all even. With mere seconds remaining in the bout, Charlie dove in under Donnie's defenses, and unleashed a screaming back fist to Donnie's head. At the same moment, Donnie pivoted sharply and unloaded a killer sidekick. The two attacks connected simultaneously, so it was practically impossible to determine who should get the points. Unfortunately, both attacks landed very hard. Charlie's back fist stunned Donnie, and Donnie's sidekick landed right on Charlie's protected ribcage under his left arm. Donnie crumpled where he stood and Charlie went flying and landed in a heap on the edge of the mat.
There was no real need to call "Kalyeo!" because neither contestant was going anywhere at the moment. Young-Soo immediately rushed over to Donnie, hoping to help him control his rage, if necessary, while Master Kim moved quickly to see to Charlie's condition.
Charlie wanted to laugh, but his chest hurt too damn much to inhale that deeply. Master Kim looked into Charlie’s eyes and in Korean-accented English asked, “Are you still alive, Jeja (student) Charlie?”
Charlie did laugh at that, but it darn well hurt, and replied carefully, “I’m not sure, Master Kim. Did you get the license plate number of that bus that just hit me?”
Master Kim, still bent over and was watching Charlie’s eyes closely, said, “Of course. No bus, though. It was Mack Truck, Donnie Colt. Stay still for a bit, so I can check you out and make sure you are okay.”
Master Kim rolled Charlie over so he was face down on the mat, and undid his chest protector. After untying his red belt and dobok, he gingerly inspected Charlie’s ribs. After so many years in so many dojangs, Master Kim had developed an almost x-ray-like sense when it came to detecting broken bones or ribs. Thankfully, Charlie’s many years of getting beaten on in the dojang had given the boy bones that rivaled concrete in terms of hardness and strength. Master Kim rubbed Charlie’s sore rib cage a bit, and surprisingly, that seemed to help quite a bit.
“No broken bones, I think, Jeja Charlie, just lay there for a bit more to recover.”
A worried Donnie Colt laid down on the mat facing Charlie, “You okay, buddy? I didn’t mean to hit you so hard. I’m sorry, Charlie.”
"I'll live, I think," Charlie said, managing to grin at Donnie. "Darn it, Donnie! You moved!"
Donnie snorted out a laugh. “And you didn’t? You zigged when I zagged, man, so this is at least half your fault!”
After a minute or so longer, Charlie got back to his feet slowly. He turned to face away from the judges while he repaired his uniform and retied his belt. Then he turned back around and went to stand on Young-Soo's left side while Donnie took his position on the Joo Sim's right. Young-Soo polled the judges to score the final move sequence. Wilma and Master Kim voted for Donnie's kick while Grandfather Kim and Ricky voted for Charlie's back fist. Rather than cast a vote to break the judges' tie, Young-Soo simply raised both boys' arms, declaring the match a draw.
Suddenly, the dojang erupted with loud cheering and applause. While the two young men and the judges had been focused on their sparring bouts, the dojang had been quietly filling up with students who were arriving for their class. The newcomers had all elected to sit around the mat and watch intently while the two boys fought. When the cheering died down, the students evidently remembered why they were at the dojang and hurried off to get dressed for class.
“Charlie, will you be able to teach your class?” Young-Soo asked.
"Yes, Sa Bum Nim," he replied, even as he cautiously stretched his injured side. "I am a little sore, but it's nothing. I'm good to go for class."
“Good, but don’t be ashamed to ask for help if you need it.”
“I have five new students today, so I’ve already asked Donnie to help me at the start.”
“Very good. Carry on then, adeunim (son).”
Charlie and Donnie hurried to the dressing rooms to get themselves cleaned up for their instructor duties. Stripping quickly, they toweled off their sweat. Charlie combed his hair while Donnie just buffed his head with his towel - one of the advantages of having a shaved head. Finally, with their doboks and belts tidied up, the pair hurried back out to meet with their class.
The group Charlie and Donnie taught consisted of twenty-five kids; all relatively new students wearing white belts and yellow belts. As with any new group, the first few minutes were spent getting everyone arranged. Once everyone had room to move, Charlie began indoctrinating the new students in the basic martial arts courtesies required of all students at the Kim Young-Soo Karate Dojang. This included learning the standard commands and responses in spoken Korean, the proper form for bowing, the appropriate honorifics for use when addressing or responding to someone and the basic stances.
After that was complete, Charlie began to teach in earnest. Charlie particularly focused on pre-class stretching as the most effective way to prevent many injuries, before starting on the basics of punching and kicking. At that point, Charlie had the students practice these new moves while he observed. He turned Donnie loose to get some more work in on the heavy bag.
About forty-five minutes later, Charlie moved the white belts to the side of the mats and began working the yellow belts harder for another twenty minutes. They worked hard to build their endurance and refine skills they'd recently learned.
The final item of their indoctrination program was learning how to finish a class session properly and respectfully. It took a few tries, but in the end, Charlie had them all saying in unison, "Con Sa Hom Nee Dha Sa Bum Nim (thank you for teaching us, teacher)."
Satisfied with their effort, Charlie formally replied, “Chun Mun A Yoe Jeja (you are welcome, students).”
After dismissing his class, Charlie headed back into the dressing room to shower and change into his street clothes. He stripped off his sweaty dobok and looked at himself in the room’s mirror. That was on nasty bruise he had on his left side, but it was nothing that a nice hot shower wouldn’t help. After letting the hot water soothe his aches for a good long while, he soaped up, shampooed and then rinsed off.
Master Kim was waiting for him in the dressing room waiting when Charlie finished drying off. “Let me have another look at you before you dress, 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 go into a rage after the hit he took from you. Instead, he was just very worried about you.”
“I knew I’d nailed him. I really hit him harder than I’d intended. I was worried, too.”
“You needn’t have worried. Young-Soo, my adeunim, was looking out for both of you. Donnie got up and was almost frantic seeing you still down on the mat. He has changed - grown in the time he has been with us. Changed for the better. You have helped in that tremendously. You did well, adeunim.”
“Thank you, Sa Bum Nim.”
Surprisingly, Charlie felt remarkably better after Master Kim had finished working with his side.
“Get dressed, Charlie We are having a meeting with the black and red belts in ten minutes.”
~-~
Charley had to hurry to make the meeting, and he was still the last to arrive.
“Okay, we are all here,” Young-Soo began, “For those of you who missed the Thrilla in Manila we had today featuring Charlie McKellar and Donnie Colt in the main event, we have it on tape. Second, as a reminder, 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 today.”
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 Kims already knew, but they wanted to hear it from their senior students who also served as instructors. They started with the white belts and worked their way to red belts, discussing each candidate's readiness objectively. Uncomfortably for Charlie and Donnie, Grandfather Kim addressed their readiness, in the same manner, speaking about them as if they weren't there, and then the other instructors added their assessments of the two students.
Once compiled, the list of students testing included eight white belts, four yellow belts, four green belts, five blue belts and two red belts testing for their next rank. “Please notify your students who are approved to participate in the testing,” Young-Soo told them. “Charlie, you may tell the red belts.”
“Donnie, you and I are testing for our black belts in three weeks. Please don’t kill me.”
"I'll try not to," Donnie replied deadpan, before giving the smaller boy a brisk knuckle rub on the head.
"Now, we will talk about problem students," Young-Soo said.
“Just one that I know of,” Wilma put in. The other instructors just nodded in resigned agreement. “Robert ‘Tad’ Green,” she continued, “He is still kind of a bad apple. He hasn’t done anything sufficiently overt to be kicked out. Yet. The problem is that he likes to hit other students a lot harder than is necessary when he’s sparring with them. He should be testing this quarter, but he is just so-so, at best, with his poomsae. If he’s not punching or kicking someone, he doesn’t put in the required effort.”
Master Kim knew of Tad’s issues. He had seen the boy change a little, in truth, he was more dangerous in some ways than Donnie. Donnie at least tried to control himself.
“I am not ready to kick the boy out of the school yet,” Master Kim replied thoughtfully. “I feel he still might have a role here. He does, however, bear having closer attention paid to him. We do NOT teach bullies at our school! Charlie, can you be here when he attends his next few classes?”
“Yes, Master Kim, it would be my honor to help.”
They talked about other things for about ten more minutes when the meeting broke up. Young-Soo’s parting words were, “We will discuss and make the needed arrangements for the upcoming test after Charlie’s birthday party. We will also 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 or two for Charlie and Donnie. The guys gave them pats on the back while Wilma and Tracy gave the boys hugs.
~-~
Amanda McKellar smiled when she saw her son come out of the meeting. She had been talking with Kim Young-Ja, the students called him Grandfather. She honestly didn't like the sport her son had chosen, with its violence and the chance of injury. That aspect turned her off, but she continued to let him participate anyway. He had a mind of his own and he was, she knew, very good at Karate.
Charlie smiled, as he picked up his gear bag. It seemed a little heavier just now. He went over to his mom and gave her a big hug.
“How were your classes, Charlie?”
"They were great, Mom! I am looking forward to testing. Also, we had five new white belts start tonight which was a lot of fun, too, and they look like a pretty good bunch."
“Don’t forget you have finals this week, Charlie. You do have to pass your tests at school, too.”
“I will Mom. I predict I will end the year with four A’s and two B’s.”
“You’re supposed to be working for six A’s, buster,” she chided in her best “Mother” voice.
"Yeah I know," Charlie answered with a bit of a sigh. "But I'm just not a world history buff, Mom, and with the government as screwed up as it is right 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 just by saying 'Hello, class'."
Amanda couldn’t help herself and 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, laughing maniacally as she casts a spell of somnolence over the classroom.”
“Yes, that’s her!! Say, did you have her for World History too?” Charlie asked, laughing heartily.
Amanda reached over and gently cuffed her son on the back of his head. “You are too much Charlie. Let’s go get something to eat before I decide to kick your butt.”
Charlie feigned fear and hustled out to his Mom’s car.
~-~
Later, back at home, Charlie hustled up to his room and changed into his favorite ‘knocking around home’ togs - a pair of Spandex compression shorts, running shorts, basketball shoes and a sports tank with armholes open almost to his waist. His Mom was sitting in her usual armchair reading a book, with the TV on in the background. Charlie grabbed the remote and laid back on the couch using his left arm as a pillow. Amanda glanced over at him and her eyes popped up to peer at him over the half lenses of her reading glasses. Then, her eyes narrowed as she focused more closely on the large bruise on the side of his rib cage. Getting up out of her chair, she went over to her son to examine the injury more closely. The bruise was at a slight upward angle and covered parts of five ribs. The center of the bruise was starting to darken significantly.
‘Mother’s finger’ pointed directly at the bruise, and then Amanda demanded, “Charlie, what on earth happened to you?”
“Nothing really, I was just sparring with Donnie. I inadvertently nailed him with a back fist that threw him off his aim and he hit me with a glancing blow from a sidekick harder than he’d intended.”
“I don’t think that was a glancing blow and if it was, he could have hurt you badly with that kick.”
She poked the center of the bruise with her finger and watched for her son’s reaction. He didn’t react. Surprised, she wondered how a bruise that ugly did not hurt? Amanda had Charlie sit up and take off his shirt, so she could get a better look.
“It bothers me that you get hurt like this, son. I know I said that I wouldn’t pull you out of karate and I won’t, but I do wish you would rethink your involvement with it, Charlie.”
“Mom, I like karate and I am very good at it.”
"Apparently, you are not good enough to avoid getting hurt. If you must continue with this, then maybe think about not sparring with Donnie anymore? That boy is almost a grown man. He is so much bigger than you that he scares me sometimes. Or maybe you could get him to take it a little easier when you spar?"
“Can’t do that, Mom. Donnie and I will have to spar against each other on test day and we’ll have to give it our best effort if we want to pass. We can’t take it easy on each other. You’re going to be there, right?”
Amanda managed to stifle a groan and smiled at her son. "You know I will be there. I may have to look away or close my eyes very tightly when you are out there fighting, but I will be there with my cameras."
~-~
Tuesday, after school, it was a very excited Charlie who ran the ten blocks to the dojang. He was going to meet Donnie to learn some more about Jiu-Jitsu. Donnie had begun learning Jiu-Jitsu to broaden his skillset and as another box checked on his application to the school that the UFC ran for aspiring MMA fighters. Donnie had recently earned his brown belt in Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu and was working on his black belt.
While this extra work wasn't a required part of their Taekwondo classes, Master Kim encouraged many of his more advanced students to learn techniques from other martial arts. More than a few overly confident Taekwondo students had been unpleasantly surprised when an opponent used another discipline's techniques to defeat them, whether in a sporting bout or a real fight. Master Kim often invited masters of other such martial arts to acquaint his students with their disciplines. He'd even had a street fighter come to their school to give a demonstration.
The competition form of Jiu-Jitsu is a grappling and submission hold martial arts form. Most techniques consist of joint locks, grappling holds, and chokes. As these could also be used to break bones and render opponents unconscious, Jiu-Jitsu, in a non-sporting encounter, could be very deadly or debilitating, much as the strikes and kicks used in Taekwondo were dangerous. Many police departments trained their officers to use submission holds based on Jiu-Jitsu to control and subdue violent offenders.
About six months earlier, Donnie had been showing Charlie some of the things he'd learned at his Jiu-Jitsu classes while nobody else was around the dojang. Donnie had been demonstrating a hip toss to an armbar when Grandfather Kim had slipped in, unseen by the two youngsters. One thing led to another, and soon he was teaching them the right way to perform such techniques and kicking their asses while doing it! Grandfather Kim even spent an hour just teaching Charlie how to fall and thoroughly enjoyed doing it. Grandfather Kim enjoyed it, that is.
Throughout their impromptu class, Grandfather Kim had regaled them with stories from the time he was with the Republic of Korea Army, teaching soldiers and recruits self-defense, hand to hand combat, knife fighting, and physical conditioning. For two teenage young males who both happened to be 1st Geup Red belts in peak physical condition, getting taken to the woodshed by the 80-plus-year-old Kim Young-Ja in a different art altogether was eye-opening, to say the least. Both Donnie and Charlie were sore after that first session. Out of that grew this once-a-week special class, where they'd get together and practice Jiu-Jitsu with either Grandfather or Master Kim. Donnie, in particular, raved about the twists the two 10th Dan karatekas put on the basic Jiu-Jitsu techniques he'd already learned and was anxious to learn even more.
As had become standard operating procedure for these sessions, the next hour and a half bordered on torture, but both boys were up to the challenge. Today, they'd worked on their grappling, learning new ways to take advantage of their opponent. These were particularly advanced techniques, so while the explanations might make them seem easy, their application to a struggling opponent was anything but easy.
They had 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 most easily escape from a bad position or a 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 explained. "Once the hold is in place and properly applied, it can be very hard, or next to impossible, to break. Always try to keep a way out open for yourself when you commit to a maneuver that your opponent might be able to counter. In a refereed competition, never stop struggling to resist a hold until you can no longer physically tolerate it and then tap out. In a fight for your life? Never give up."
In Taekwondo class later that evening, Charlie assisted Wilma in teaching a class of middle belts. He'd have to spar with Tad tonight because the instructors had decided that the green belt could only be allowed to spar with black or red belts capable of defending themselves against Tad's tendency to strike harder than appropriate. The Kims had decided they would not expel the boy, YET, but neither were they going to let any other of their students face Tad and get hurt.
The problem was that Tad could hit hard, very hard in fact, and he didn't seem to know how to, or more likely, to want to pull his punches and kicks. In their sparring session, Charlie got tagged a time or two but Tad didn't hit nearly as hard as Donnie, so he handled that all right. From Tad's perspective, however, Charlie was like a giant hornet; he was very hard to hit but his counterstrikes really stung whenever he decided to hit Tad. Only difference? When Charlie hit Tad, he did pull his punches. He wasn't out to hurt the dude, and he was trying to help teach him proper sparring etiquette and technique.
Sadly, that wasn’t working for Charlie as he could tell that Tad was getting very frustrated. In pure retaliation, he laid several hard shots on Charlie, blows that would have hurt less experienced and capable students. Charlie responded to each shot with a goofy smile, while he dodged away from the next blow. Tad’s focus on offense was such that Charlie had no problem hitting Tad at will with counter punches or kicks. Completely frustrated, Tad even tried to grab and hold the smaller boy so he could hit him more easily. That didn’t work for him either.
Wilma allowed this to continue for over seven minutes before she decided to have mercy on Tad. When she called the two of them to break, Tad immediately collapsed to the mat, gasping for air as he tried to catch his breath. Charlie did a backflip away from Tad, landing in a full Chinese split.
Abruptly, Tad pulled out his mouthpiece and gasped, “God… I… hate you… Charlie.”
Charlie took out his mouthpiece and asked, "Why? What have I ever done to you, Tad?"
Tad just laid there on the mat, silently staring at Charlie until he'd recovered enough to stand up. Then, he just turned and walked away, heading for the dressing room.
~-~
Thursday started as a pretty good day from Charlie's point of view. He finished his last test for this high school year. Then, he had another night class with Tad. Uncertain how best to deal with the problem student, Charlie decided to take pity on the other kid that night and let himself seem to get hit hard during their spar. When Tad wasn't angry, which wasn't often, he showed some pretty decent form with his offensive techniques. The only reason he wasn't a blue belt yet was his lack of progress in learning and mastering his required poomsae. The instructors probably would have put him up for this coming round of testing if he had an average or even a little below average skill in his poomsae. He didn't. Often, he would forget the order of the techniques, turn in the wrong direction, or his execution of the technique was just too sloppy. When he did the forms together with other students, his miscues just became even more obvious.
That night after class, the black and red belts had another meeting to discuss what to do next with Tad. After a lively and sometimes heated discussion, they decided they would keep Tad on as a student but continue to limit his sparring to a shortlist of approved black and red belts. Charlie was on the list, but Wilma, Traci, Ricky and Donnie weren't. Wilma, Tracy and Ricky were all slight of build and while they had the necessary skills, Tad was big enough and strong enough that he might hurt them. Donnie was off the list because of his rage control issues. Tad pulling any crap with Donnie might lead to Tad getting hurt very badly.
~-~
Friday was Freedom Day! The high school students were let out at noon and Charlie almost sprinted home. Monday he would start working part-time at the dojang overseeing the Kims' summer program for kids six to fourteen. He was looking forward to earning $250 a week, but that meant that today and this weekend would be his last free time for a while. Checking the time, Charlie figured he had an hour or so to swim in his home pool before he had to leave to meet Donnie at the dojang. The June afternoon temperatures were edging up into hot, so a dip in the pool before class was just what the doctor ordered.
Kids were running around and playing when he turned onto his street. He stopped short, catching a thrown football and then passed it back to the boys. Some small girls were playing hopscotch, while others were playing tag. Everything was going fine until he got near his home.
Mr. Pritchard lived two houses down and across the street from Charlie. Mr. Pritchard was paranoid and had just bought a fully grown, adult Pit Bull for home protection. Mrs. Pritchard had left the home’s solid-core front door open and left the tempered glass and screened storm door shut.
One of the football throws went awry, and several kids chased after it, running across Pritchard's lawn in their pursuit. Pritchard's dog, Tinkerbell, had been sitting at the door watching the activity outside. When the boys ran past, Tinkerbell exploded through the tempered glass, intent on bringing down the kids who had trespassed on his master's property.
Charlie recognized the threat to the kids and immediately ran to intercept the dog, but Tinkerbell won the foot race and knocked one of the boys down right in the middle of the street. The dog skidded past the fallen boy only to turn back on him. Instinctively, the boy rolled into the fetal position, covering up his head and neck with his arms and body. That move probably saved his life. The out-of-control Tinkerbell latched onto one of his victim’s arms and began to shake him around like a rag doll.
With the dog's jaws clamped on his victim, Charlie didn't dare kick or punch the animal for fear of making things worse. Reacting without hesitation, he fell on top of the dog, stunning the animal but Tinkerbell still didn't release his grip on the boy's now badly bleeding arm. Charlie did a back mount on the dog, and snaked his arm around the dog's neck, attempting a rear-naked chokehold. Once he grabbed his arm, Charlie cinched down on the hold with all of his might until, finally, the dog released the boy. Another passer-by pulled the child away, but Charlie kept his hold on the dog.
By this time, Mr. Pritchard had arrived on the scene and tried to get Charlie off the struggling dog. Outraged at Charlie’s refusal to let his dog go, he started screaming at and kicking Charlie. That lasted only until the injured boy’s older brother knocked Pritchard to the ground and kept him there away from Charlie.
Witnesses at the scene later reported that Charlie had maintained his hold on the dog for over three minutes. When he finally released his hold, his arms were sore from the strain and he just laid back on the street, panting next to the dead dog. Sirens in the distance announced the imminent arrival of an ambulance or fire truck. Within minutes, a fire engine, an ambulance with EMTs and a police car had all arrived at the scene.
The EMTs rushed over to Jimmy Wilson, the boy that had been bitten. The engine’s crew went over and saw to Charlie, while the police officer and his watch sergeant began questioning the gathered witnesses. Mr. Pritchard began shouting at the officers to arrest Charlie for killing his dog. He became so incensed that he had to be restrained and secured in the back of one of the patrol cars.
A car that had almost hit Charlie as he raced across the road to stop the dog attack, was driven by a lady, who gave the most complete blow-by-blow description of events. She had even sacrificed a very nice off-white linen jacket to help staunch the bleeding from Jimmy's arm. The officers, after hearing her account along with the statements of other witnesses, placed Mr. Pritchard under arrest. While the patrol officer took the man to the local precinct for booking, Sgt. Whitcomb began to interview a slowly recovering Charlie.
“You’re Charlie McKellar, right?” Sgt. Whitcomb asked.
“Yes sir.”
“Are you all right, son?”
“My arms are sore and my left side hurts pretty bad. 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 and you need to be checked out so that we have that information as evidence. Now, tell me what happened as you saw things.”
Charlie closed his eyes as he tried to recall every detail. "I had just turned the corner coming home from school - school let out at noon today. Billy Brooks threw a football at me and I had to stop and catch it before I threw it back. I'd almost made it home," Charlie told the Sergeant, pointing to his own home, "When I saw that pit bull bust through that storm door and run after some kids. I just reacted. By the time I got to them, 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 - I don't know how long I held it - but the dog was dead when I let him go. I wasn't about to release the hold and then have to fight him again. I was so focused; I didn't know what was happening around me. I'm pretty sure somebody kicked me in the ribs, but I can't tell you who though."
“That’s it?” The Sergeant asked, his tone gruff but kind. At Charlie’s weary nod, he closed his notebook, “Well, that’s all I need for now except for a parent’s phone number. Just to be clear? That fire lieutenant will have my hide if I don’t let him take you to a hospital, so kid? You’re going. I’ll call your parents and make sure they know where you are.”
“555-6436. My Mom is Amanda McKellar. She is a Paralegal for McKenzie, Davis and Lee. Sir? I don’t need to go to the hospital.”
“Shit! A law office?! Looks like it sucks to be Mr. Pritchard today. Don’t argue with me about the hospital son. Just suck it up and go with Lieutenant James.”
The lead fireman offered Charlie a hand up into the pumper truck and climbed in after him. On the way to the hospital, Charlie called Young-Soo 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 not, Charlie?”
“Well, I am on my way to the hospital. There was a boy attacked by a dog in my neighborhood today. I, uh, kind of got involved. . .”
“Did the dog hurt you?” Young-Soo’s voice was suddenly very intense.
"No, I wasn't directly attacked by the dog. I stopped the dog attack, but my arms are sore from the rear naked chokehold I put on the dog. The dog is dead, but I was also kicked in the ribs by the dog's owner, or so I've been told. The police and the firemen insisted that I go to the hospital. I'm really okay, Sa Bum Nim! I mean, the guy kicked like a girl, but…"
“You should go to the hospital, Charlie. Do what you are told. Does your mother know yet?”
“The police promised they’d call her.”
“Good, Master Kim will meet you at the hospital. Bye.”
“Bye,” Charlie said to the sudden buzzing of a dial tone.
The engine had to stop a short distance away from the Emergency Room turning circle. The engine was too massive to make the turn, so an orderly with a wheelchair met them out in the driveway. Charlie complained that he didn't need the blasted wheelchair, but it was like talking to a brick wall. The orderly wheeled Charlie to the Emergency Room and straight into a treatment room. For all that, however, Charlie got to see his mother a half-hour before he ever saw the doctor. When the doctor finally arrived, he checked Charlie out, commenting on the bruising and then sending him to radiology for x-rays.
Then Charlie had to sit and wait some more until after the doctor had received and reviewed the x-rays, only to be sent back to radiology for a bone density test.
After yet another hour’s wait, the doctor came back into Charlie’s treatment room.
“Well, am I going to live, Doctor?” Charlie asked, more than just a little impatiently by this time. He’d even missed lunch, darn it!
“Oh ah, Mmm, yes. Most certainly you will live. I just needed to check something out to make sure the x-rays weren’t somehow messed up. I couldn’t believe how opaque your bones were to the x-rays. I’ve never encountered such bone density before, particularly in someone so young. Are you into martial arts?”
“Yes sir. I practice Taekwondo.”
“Have you gone through Iron Shirt Discipline?”
“I don’t think so,” Charlie answered with a little shrug. “What is that?”
“Well, it is a method used in some martial arts disciplines to toughen the body up. As I understand it, that would involve repeatedly striking the body with hard rods to cause microfractures that then heal up. The healed bones become much stronger and denser.”
“Nope. I haven’t done that.”
“Well, as it stands now, you may never have to worry about breaking any of your bones. I am just amazed.”
“So, can I go now?”
“Yes, there isn’t a thing wrong with you. I’ll prescribe 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 all right in a day or two. I have also given your Mom a script for some Tylenol #3 for the pain.”
“How is Jimmy Wilson? He is the boy that the dog attacked.”
Shaking his head, the doctor grimaced. "He's in surgery right now. After that, it will still be a while before we know anything for certain."
Amanda and Charlie left the ER and were surprised to see about a dozen people from the dojang in the waiting area. Grandfather Kim, Master Kim, Donnie, Wilma and even little Ricky had come and waited to find out how Charlie was doing. Charlie went to meet his friends when he heard someone shout, "There he is, Mom! that's the kid that killed that dog." Stopping abruptly, Charlie went into a defensive position as he searched for whoever had just yelled.
Charlie barely had time to brace himself before Delores Wilson, crying and smiling at the same time, almost ran Charlie over as she hugged him fiercely, “Thank you for saving my little Jimmy. I don’t know how you did it, Charlie! That dog was huge, but thank you, thank you, thank you!” Delores then turned to Amanda for support and to talk to another mother.
David Wilson, Jimmy’s brother, picked Charlie up in a bear hug. “Thank you, Charlie.”
“Oww, ow, Oww! Watch the ribs, guy! Please.”
“Sorry, I forgot.”
“How is your brother, David?” Charlie asked after he’d been put back down on the floor.
“He is in surgery. The doctors are trying to save his arm. God, he may lose it, Charlie.” David said, crying unashamedly.
“Damn. I’m sorry, David. I tried to save him.”
“You did, Charlie, you did! That damn dog would have killed him if not for you.”
Charlie was saved from having to reply when his friends mobbed him. Many 'atta boys', compliments and pats on his back ensued. What surprised the hell out of him, however, was when Grandfather and Master Kim both bowed to him.
Amanda and Charlie, along with his friends from the dojang, stayed to support Delores and David while they waited for news on Jimmy's surgery. About half an hour later, they were joined by Brian Wilson, Jimmy's Dad. It was a long and tense vigil for all of them.
Finally, sometime after midnight, a very tired-looking surgeon came out into the waiting room to speak with Mr. And Mrs. Wilson. "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 aid he received at the scene and on the trip here was outstanding. You need to thank whoever stopped the bleeding. Even so, the tissues of the arm were blood starved for an extended time which complicates things. The main danger we face right now is restoring the circulation in his arm and preventing postoperative infection. Infections we can fight, but if the circulation doesn't return, he may yet lose the arm. We won't know for several more days, maybe a week."
"Jimmy's humerus bone was all but crushed. Pit Bulls have extraordinarily strong bite force. We patched the bone back together as best we could, cleaned out all the extraneous bone chips and used calcium cement to bind it together. We then put a rod in to protect the bone. We will worry about scarring and plastic surgery later, once we know that the arm is safe.
“There is a significant amount of nerve damage, I’m afraid, somewhere from moderate to severe, as far as we can tell now. Sadly, the arm will likely never be as good as it was. Jimmy will likely be in the hospital for two or three weeks, minimum. We’re just not sure right now,” the doctor finished with an exhausted sigh. “I wish I had better news.”
“Thank you, Doctor,” Mr. Wilson said. “We’ll worry about the arm later. For now? Our son is ALIVE. That boy over there?” he said, pointing at Charlie, “Somehow, he got the dog off of Jimmy. And then there was this lady at the scene who gave him the initial first aid. It’s really hard to believe how much damage that dog did in just a few seconds.”
Nodding, the doctor managed a smile. “Well, that lady saved Jimmy’s life, just as much as Charlie did by getting that dog off of him. There was extensive arterial damage to his arm. He might have bled to death before the EMTs could have reached him without that lady’s first aid.”
Amanda and Charlie stayed for a little while longer before saying goodbye, then they left to get some rest.
~-~
Saturday was Charlie's birthday, but they slept in after their late night, getting up around ten o'clock. Amanda took Charlie out to eat at one of the twenty-four-hour diners, and Charlie picked up a newspaper to read while they waited for their food. They quickly became aware that they were receiving more than the expected amount of scrutiny. People kept looking at him and his mom, whispering among themselves, heads turning as they walked towards the back of the diner to sit at a booth. Charlie's ears were itching.
They ordered drinks while they looked over the menu. Charlie didn't need the menu. He just ordered the same big breakfast that he always ordered. That done, he opened the newspaper and glanced at the headlines.
"Oh my god, Mother," Charlie breathed raspily, as he showed his mom the paper's front page. There, in the lower right-hand corner, were two pictures of Charlie! One picture of him sitting on the diamond plate step of the fire engine while the other was an older photo of Charlie posing in his dobok wearing his 1st Geup Red Belt. It had been taken just after he had tested for the red belt with the black stripe about eight months earlier. Worse yet, there was a seven-column inch article about him mostly on the front page. The reporter had managed to get an interview with Brian and Delores Wilson as well as one from Master Kim. Well, Charlie mused, guess he must have given them the second photo.
When their teenage waitress came back to their table to deliver their orders, she asked, “That’s you on the cover of the paper, isn’t it? You’re Charlie McKellar, aren’t you?”
“Yes, that is me,” Charlie mumbled, 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 sell yourself short! You are a hero! I know I could never have gotten a pit bull off of someone.”
~-~
Amanda took her son to the dojang and, unusually for her, elected to go inside with him. It seemed like everybody that went to Young-Soo's school was there and they all applauded as he came back into the back. Grandfather called everyone to attention and then ordered them to bow to the embarrassed young man. Charlie just stood there shaking for several very long seconds, before he managed to recover himself enough to return 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 diffusion of responsibility. People wait on other people who are around to do something. There are not enough people in this world who will run to a disaster to help those in need. Most people run away. It isn't that they are cowards, rather it is that they aren't prepared to pay the price that intervention may require and lack the preparation to intervene effectively. What you did brings great credit to yourself and your family and is in keeping with the highest standards of 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 plaque in honor of your feat. Thank You."
Young-Soo lifted a plaque so that he could read it out loud for everyone in the room. "This is to acknowledge that First Geup Red Belt, Charlie McKellar, at great risk to his own person, saved a fellow human being's 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, newspapers were autographed and Charlie was immensely embarrassed by all the attention. Still, he managed to play along with everyone but was intensely grateful when Master Kim finally brought the festivities to an end and made sure everyone knew they had work to do. Charlie, he announced, was to have the first training bout. Charlie brightened at that and was eager to spar with Donnie. Until Master Kim surprised him by saying that he would be fighting Little Ricky Summers.
“Aw, do I hafta?” Charlie groaned dramatically. “Gee Whiz, Master Kim, I’ll need a motorcycle to keep up with that little fart. Can I at least weigh him down with about fifty extra pounds or maybe tie his legs together first?”
While Charlie's dojang nickname was the Giant Hornet, Little Ricky was their resident mosquito. Charlie was in no danger of being hurt; Ricky just didn't have the power or will to hurt anyone. In fact, the three Kims were trying every trick in their book to find a way, ANY way, to help Ricky get used to hitting harder. The big thing about Ricky was that while Charlie was fast and quick? Ricky was just plain faster and quicker. Charlie knew this was going to be a very entertaining bout. To watch. To be Ricky's opponent? Maybe not so much.
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 because Ricky couldn't hit that hard and Charlie wouldn't. Wilma was designated the Joo Sim or referee for this bout. After checking that after both students were ready, she called for their bows and waited as they assumed their ready stance. She gave a quick glance to the Kims who were serving as judges, and with their nods, shouted, "Sijak,"
It. Was. On!
Charlie spent most of the next eight minutes or so just trying to get close enough to the little sucker to just land a blow. He was careful when he did tag him. Ricky, however, tagged Charlie plenty of times as the minutes went by. In the end, he had been forced to hit Charlie harder to keep him off of him, which pleased the Kims.
“Damn it! Slow down, you little fart! Let me hit you real good at least once, wise guy.” Charlie ranted as he stalked the smaller boy.
"Not in a pig's eye, Charlie,"Ricky shouted back, while he continued dodging about the mat. "Catch me if you can, slowpoke!"
Charlie had a better chance of catching the wind and knew it.
The two of them must have touched every square inch of the mat several times in the course of the eight-minute bout. Wilma only stopped them a few times, when a particularly good blow landed. She would formally acknowledge that person's effort, check to see if the other person was fit to continue, and then determine scoring if any. For a while there, it seemed that Ricky could backpedal faster than Charlie could go forward, and both fighters 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 smiled smugly. Ricky was tired too, but he sure wasn’t going to admit that to Charlie.
“Dang it, Ricky, if you ever learn to hit harder, you’re gonna be one bad dude. You could run an opponent to death and then finish them off after they’d collapsed.”
Ricky couldn’t resist. He smartly tagged Charlie on the shoulder and then quickly scurried out of reach, “You know it, Charlie.”
The next bout proved to be just as entertaining. For the first time in a long time, Donnie had to face Grandfather Kim on the mat. It was quite a sight seeing a nearly ninety-year-old man putting the hurt on the tall muscular young man. 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 because Master Kim took pity on Donnie.
Next on the training plan was more test preparations for Donnie and Charlie. 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 another board with 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, with 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, with 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 the proposed routine.
Charlie positioned himself and assumed a ready position. 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. The entire routine took all of eight seconds.
Donnie chose to power break pegged bricks (bricks 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, a knife strike, and an ax 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 between them. Donnie took the students who would be testing in two weeks and Charlie taught the rest of the students. These classes lasted an hour and a half. Charlie worked his class hard - almost to the point of exhaustion. Seeing his students put so much effort into his class made Charlie smile. This was a very good group of kids and they had a great class today. Donnie had worked his students harder because they were up for their tests but was also pleased with their efforts and their results.
As the classes bowed out and thanked their teachers, someone shouted, “Charyut!” Causing everyone in the dojang to snap to attention. Grandfather Kim, Master Kim and Young-Soo entered the dojang. Charlie called for his students to turn to them and bow. After the students had bowed, the three Kims parted and several senior students brought in a birthday cake and set it on a table.
Amanda and a host of other, non-karate friends came in, too, including Brian and Dolores Wilson and their son, David. These were followed by the district Fire Chief Matt Davis, the Police Chief Arnold Wainwright, both of whom were in full dress uniforms, along with the Mayor, Mr. Clay Carlson. Everyone was singing ‘Happy Birthday’ as they came in to join the celebration. That complete, the Mayor presented Charlie with the city’s Civilian Certificate of Valor. Idly, Charlie wondered if it would EVER stop?!?
For the next hour or so, a good time was had by all. As the guest of honor, Charlie found himself saran-wrapped to a chair. Still, he managed to blow out all the candles on his cake and then was treated to his share of the cake. Valerie Stevens, a very pretty sixteen-year-old, fifth green belt, planted herself in Charlie's wrapped lap and proceeded to hand feed him, very daintily, his cake. The only person in the room who didn't know Valerie had a big-time crush on Charlie was, of course, Charlie. Most of the girls at the school knew it, too, so Charlie had sort of been claimed as Valerie's and was now definitely off-limits to the other girls who giggled about it behind his back.
“Guys can just be so dense at times,” one of them observed to Amanda who also already knew and she just smiled.
When he was finally released to open his presents, Charlie just couldn’t believe all the presents he received. Everybody applauded as he unwrapped and then held up each present. Then he’d thank the giver before repeating the process with the next brightly colored package. He was embarrassed by the extravagance and expense of some of the presents.
The Wilson family's gift was last. First, they thanked him again and then told him that the doctors just told them that Jimmy's arm seemed to be getting better. He'd still have a long and probably painful recovery, but now there was hope. Brian gave Charlie the keys to a 2008 BMW 318 convertible.
Everyone told him that it was one sweet car after they'd gone outside to look at it. Charlie tried to turn them down. He didn't even have a license yet and it was really too much. Brian Wilson worked at the prime BMW dealership in town, and he told Charlie that he had taken the car in trade recently. When his boss had heard what Charlie had done for the Wilson family, the man had given it to Brian to give to Charlie. The car was beautifully detailed, looked brand new and only had thirty thousand miles on the odometer.
And Charlie was going to have it! Period.
Young-Soo offered to drive Charlie and his new car home after the black belt meeting and Amanda accepted his offer. She loaded up Charlie's gifts along with the leftover cake into her car and left for home.
The black belt meeting ran long that evening. Young-Soo helped plan the summer schedule with the red belts and 1st Dan black belts, while Grandfather Kim and Master Kim planned the belt test, with the more senior black belts.
Charlie and Young-Soo arrived at his mom’s house right after eight-thirty. Amanda opened the garage door so that Young-Soo could park Charlie's Beemer next to Amanda's two-year-old Chrysler 300. After a few parting words, Master Kim drove his son home.
~-~
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. Then she kissed his cheek, shed a tear and left him to his dreams. Amanda now had a great deal of work to do before this night was over.
~-~
Charlie woke unusually late the next morning and stumbled groggily into the bathroom. Ordinarily a morning person, everything seemed somehow foggy and just a step out of phase. He carefully made his way to the toilet, sat down and took care of business, wiping before he stood. Something was definitely strange and different, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. At least, not until he’d gotten his toothbrush and toothpaste, and looked in the mirror. THAT snapped things together in a great big hurry. It was like the fog parted and instead of seeing himself in the mirror, he saw this very pretty girl. Only, it wasn’t some girl, it was Charlie. . . And no, it wasn’t Charlie. The girl in the mirror was Christie.
And he was her. . .she was him . . . Oh hell!
Christie dropped her toothbrush into the sink, calmly turned and walked out of the bathroom. She only paused long enough to grab and put on her(?) brightly colored silk kimono robe before striding downstairs to find her mother. And hopefully get, some freakin’ answers!
“Mother, Mother, where are you?” Christie asked, a lot more calmly than her level of internal confusion and turmoil warranted. She should be shouting her head off right now. That was almost as disconcerting as seeing . . . her in the mirror.
Almost.
“In here, baby,” her Mom called out from the kitchen, “What do you need?”
“Mother, something terrible happened last night. Either that or I am going out of my mind and need to see a shrink like right now!”
“You are not going out of your mind and you do not need to see a psychiatrist. Please sit down at the breakfast bar and eat your breakfast. We have a great deal to talk about.”
“But Mom…?”
“Sit and eat. All will be made clear to you, dear. I promise.”
Christie recognized this particular 'Mom-mode' of Amanda's - pure strong-headed determination. There would be no explanations, no answers until she was ready to talk and she wouldn't be ready until they were through eating breakfast. Evidently, it was the kind of talk that wouldn't be good for digestion. Somehow, Christie didn't doubt that one bit.
They did talk as they ate, but it was along the lines of forced small talk. How about the weather; what did she think about this news item or wasn't that play or movie interesting. Well experienced in dealing with her Mother's foibles, Christie lightly buttered her toast and poured out a precise half a cup of toasted oat cereal which she blended with half a cup of wheat bran. Odd, but her outward demeanor, her overt reactions were halfway calm as if this were just another Sunday morning in the McKellar household. Inside? She wanted to be screaming and shouting and raising absolute hell! How can her Mom be so oblivious to all this? To HER?!? Her Mom? Hell, why was she behaving so calmly about all this?
When they had FINALLY finished eating, Amanda said, "Put your dishes in the sink and come with me to the living room. We'll see to the dirty dishes later but for now, we need to talk and we might as well be as comfortable as possible."
Christie followed her Mom into the living room. Amanda gestured her to the couch and, then to Christie's surprise, did not move to sit in her favorite armchair. Instead, she settled by Christie on the couch.
“Christie, I know you have a thousand questions, but first listen for a few minutes, okay? Trust me, it will make things clearer if not more simple in the long run.”
"Yes, Ma'am."
"Good. You aren't going crazy. Yesterday you were a boy, almost a young man named Charlie, and today you are a girl, almost a young woman named Christie. Are you with me so far?"
"Yes, Ma'am. If I'm not crazy, the mirror doesn't lie."
Amanda smiled and looked deeply into Christie’s eyes, “The short explanation is usually the best in these situations. I am a sorceress. I have magical powers. You are becoming aware of many of these things for the first time today. When a sorceress has a male child, there is a one out of two probability that her male child will transform into a female and come into power themselves. I know that you have studied genetics in school so you will understand that represents a sex-linked dominant trait associated with the X chromosome. One of my X chromosomes has the genes that map to traits for magic.”
"Unfortunately, there is no way for us to determine whether or not that child can or will become a sorcerer or a sorceress until the trigger appears. That trigger appears or it doesn't on the child's sixteenth birthday."
“Yesterday, was my sixteenth birthday,”Christie observed.
“Correct. Last night, after you fell asleep, I slipped into your room and sat by you. At a little after midnight, I detected the trait’s trigger begin to form inside you. I then triggered the transformation that resulted in Charlie becoming Christie.”
"So, you turned me into a girl, Mom? For God's sake WHY? Wasn't I good enough as a boy? Did you feel you just had to turn my life upside down, just because of this. . .this trigger thing?"
Surprising Christie yet again, Amanda didn't get mad. "Christie, I know, personally, just how unsettling and scary this experience is for you, and I wouldn't have done it unless it was absolutely necessary! However, I didn't change you into a girl. It was the magic that chose your form. It's complicated, and while we have a lot of statistical information - 75% of the boys that have this potential are transformed into girls and 25% of the girls with it become boys - we don't understand why it happens that way. Girls who do get transformed are considered lucky in the sorcery community because they are typically more powerful and easier to train than sorceresses who don't change sex. And since some male sorcerers don't go through this for some reason, it turns out the same way for the boys - transformed individuals are generally stronger magically and learn it more easily and quickly."
“So I am stuck as a girl and will have to live out my life as a girl,” Christie said, in a disgruntled tone. “And fate throws me the bone of having magic powers? Not sure I like the deal, Mom.”
"No, dear, you are not stuck as a girl. Consider this . . .little experience a challenge or a test like your Taekwondo belt tests. There are some lessons for you to learn, some skills you will have to master before you can start your magical training. After all that, the first major magic you will perform will 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 and remember your school years. Not just last year, but all the way back to pre-school. In fact, tell me what Christie, not Charlie, did 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 into Philadelphia to go shopping and out to eat before attending the ballet."
“Good. And what did you do on your twelfth birthday, Christie?”
“We took a train to New York City and stayed in a hotel there. We went out to eat at Le Bernardin and then we went to the Met to see the Bolshoi Ballet Company perform ‘Giselle’.”
"Good. Your memory is intact. Christie, I am sorry this happened to you, but you are going to 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 who dances ballet."
“So Young-Soo and the rest know me as Christie?”
“I am afraid not, dear. Check your memories. Christie has been taking ballet lessons since she was eight years old. She never took Karate.”
“Why Mom?” Christie blurted, as close to an emotional breakdown as whatever was inhibiting her would allow, “Why did you have to do this? Wasn’t I good enough as ME for you? Did you truly have to do this to me?”
Amanda knew her child, and she knew she would face this question. Heavens, she had asked the same question of HER Mother so many years ago. Hopefully, her answer would be better accepted than her Mother's attempt had been. "Wait here, Christie. Let me go get something." Amanda left and returned quickly, carrying two plastic boxes that she placed on the coffee table in front of Christie. "What is in these two boxes, Christie?"
"Inside the larger gray box is your Ruger P95 9 millimeter semi-automatic pistol. The other box is a cleaning kit for the pistol. You taught me how to shoot with it years ago, Mom."
“Yes, I taught my son, Charlie and I taught my daughter, Christie, how to shoot and how to take care of the pistol properly. I want you to clean the weapon, Christie.”
Nodding, Christie looked up at her Mother. “May I have the key, Mom?”
Amanda dug into her purse, pulled out her key ring and handed it to Christie. Christie took the keys and unlocked the box containing the pistol. Then she stopped and looked to her left at her Mother, again. “Mom, would you please sit on my right side? You are in the potential line of fire there.”
Pleased that Christie was as careful as Charlie had been, Amanda quickly complied. The gun inside the box would be pointing to Christie’s left, and she did not want anyone in the line of fire until she was sure it was safe.
Christie opened the box and took the gun out of the case. She removed the magazine, which she put on the table and then carefully cycled the slide, ejecting the chambered round into her hand. Christie took that round and inserted it into the magazine. Then she pulled the slide back on the pistol several times, locking the slide open 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 the parts. Finished, 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 pressed the de-cocking safety lever. She then laid the pistol back in its place in the box.
“What was that lever just before you put the gun back in the case?”
“It is the de-cock safety lever.”
“Why did you depress that lever?”
"Because no matter how safe a gun may appear, with the hammer back, there could always be the possibility of some freak accident that might fire the gun accidentally."
"That is right. Last night, when that magical trigger began to appear, Charlie became like that gun with the hammer back, only worse. Unlike my Ruger, Charlie didn't have a hammer decock lever. He was primed, loaded, and on an unsafe hair trigger. I did nothing more than make him safe the only way that I could. If I hadn't done that last night, then sometime in the future the gun inside of Charlie would 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 tried to pick up the pieces, and maybe I could have put you back together again. But maybe not. Bad things could have happened, permanent kinds of things, things like dying, because you went crazy wondering what happened."
"Christie, you don't know how painful that was for me last night; having to be the one to pull your trigger. However, it was infinitely better that I did it then with all the safeguards I could manage for you than to have it just happen some random time in the future. One way or another, Christie, that transformation was going to happen to you eventually."
“Well, why didn’t you tell me all this before? At least warn me?”
“Oh sure, Christie, that would have worked - NOT! Hey Charlie, I got something to tell you. You might not believe it, but you may wake up as a girl tomorrow, Charlie. Don’t worry, I’ll help you learn to change back again, maybe in a year or so,” Amanda said. “You didn’t believe in magic till today, I bet?”
“Well, how am I going to live after today? There are so many 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 something; don’t think about it. Let me prove it.”
“Just to be fully fair and open about this, I’ll tell you that I am putting a small magical compulsion on you. Tonight, we are going to have dinner at Donatello’s at seven with your grandmother. Get yourself dressed up and ready to go 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 about your transformation will disturb you or upset you today. You also have what I call a valium spell on you. So you will be calm enough to think rationally.”
Well, that explained why Christie had been acting so calmly. She didn’t like what her mom had said, but assuming she had told her the truth - and Christie was absolutely certain her Mother told her the truth - her explanation and her decisions 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."Kissing her daughter on her forehead, Amanda collected her gun and cleaning kit and headed off to her room.
Christie continued to sit there on the couch for an hour and thought about her life. So she was in ballet, she thought. She went to her room and opened the pink gear bag she found in her closet. Instead of Charlie's white gear bag, containing his weapons, punches, kicks, and sweaty dobok, she had ballet slippers, toe shoes, a sweat-stained leotard, tights, bun covers, makeup, tampons, bras, panties and..Oh My God, she did not even want to think about what else. Crap, how had she forgotten to take her sweaty things out last night and wash them?
She got up and went into the bathroom to hand-rinse her delicates, then took everything else that needed to be washed to the laundry room. She would have two light loads. She would need everything in the bag clean. While the washing machine was running, she decided to do her ballet thing. Donning a pair of toe shoes, Christie warmed up and did her stretches. She evidently had a routine for all this, she realized.
Without thinking about how she would do any of it, Christie began to go through her paces. She just knew how to do them and her body just knew what to do. Moreover, she was in the peak physical condition necessary to do it. She even did some en pointe routines and found she could hold en pointe with attitude easily.
Satisfied, Christie took the shoes off and went to her room to finish getting dressed for her new usual summer vacation Sunday. She checked her hair. Happily, it was still clean and in good shape so she put it up in a bun and covered it with a shower cap. She decided to take a shower. She 'remembered' that she liked baths, but only after she was clean. Evidently, her preference was to take a shower and then treat herself to a nice hot soak - with bath oils, too. Bath oils?
After her shower, she took the opportunity to take a good, long 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 measured 30 inches around just below the bust and 37 inches over the largest part of her bust all of which meant that she wore a 34C bra. She didn't really care about that, other than what she did wear was comfortable. She had a 23-inch waist and 34-inch hips. Checking her body in profile, she thought she was a little top-heavy at the moment, given her Mother's genes, she figured her hips would probably catch up eventually. Unfortunately for a ballerina.
In her room, she dressed quickly in a matching bra and panty set, a lavender leotard, a pair of short shorts that hugged her backside nicely, ankle socks and her pink Nikes. Cautiously, Christie approached and then took a seat at HER vanity. Undoing her hair bun, she brushed it out and decided that since she was going out to a nice place tonight she'd just leave it hanging straight just now, with its little bit of natural curl at the ends. She neatened her brows up a bit, then added just a little light eye shadow, mascara and lipstick.
After one last check of her face and hair, she started to get up and stopped, staring down at her hands. Her nails weren’t done. Opening one of her vanity’s drawers, she grabbed the plastic carry-all with all of her nail care supplies and tools to the living room.
Setting her carry-all down on the coffee table and then turning on the TV, Christie headed to the laundry to put her things in the dryer. Returning, she sat herself down on the floor in front of the couch and got busy fixing her nails. She started on her feet because ballet was very hard on a girl's toes. She filed down her toenails, put a foam spreader between her toes and got down to the serious business of painting them. She liked, as did her ballet mistress, vivid and brilliant reds. It was one of the few things outside of the dance itself they shared.
As far as Christie was concerned, the brighter the better, and she often adjusted her makeup accordingly, always looking for the right red, and for just the right skin tone to set it all off. Christie knew she was a neutral skin tone and could wear cool or warm colors. She chose to wear warmer tones most of the time. After all, as the movie promised, 'Some Like it Hot' and Christie most definitely did.
She painted her toes with two coats and once they were dry, she started working on her fingernails. Her natural nails were long since her ballet Mistress liked them long. She filed the edges and shaped them a bit. Then she used a base coat, two coats of the same red as she'd used on her toes and finished it off with a diamond-bright topcoat.
Darn, she was good!
She watched TV for a bit, got her things out of the dryer, folded them and then put them where they belonged. Hungry, she went to the kitchen. Her diet was strict and all spelled out for her and Mom on the refrigerator door. She checked the list, got out the appropriate foods, weighing and measuring her servings carefully before heading to the breakfast bar.
After eating, she went back to the living room, went down to the floor in a Chinese split and then lay on the floor to watch TV. She adjusted her position after a bit, went into an American split, laying down on her front leg, and after a while changed legs.
Bored, she went out on the patio by the pool, put her toe shoes back on, stretched out and did her “Flashdance - What a Feeling” dance routine that was planned for the studio’s next performance. 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 she would try something. She still had all of Charlie’s memories, so she had all the moves in Koryo Poomsae in her head. Assuming her position of attention, she tried to execute that form.
She was awful. Even though she knew what to do, her body didn’t know how it was supposed to do it. She was sloppy and looked poorly practiced. Even though it looked like she had essentially the same body - maybe a little lighter and stacked a little differently - she didn’t have the same muscle memory. She knew if you had to think about how to do advanced Poomsae, you would not be able to do them properly. You just did them.
She tried doing just the basics, simple punches and kicks and realized she looked like a white belt doing punches and kicks. Well, maybe not a white belt, maybe an eighth yellow. Maybe. Charlie had seen some really awful white belts in his time at the dojang and she wasn't THAT bad. She hoped.
At about two in the afternoon, she was bored again and went to the swimming pool changing room. Pulling on a racer-back top and a bikini bottom, she returned to the pool, gracefully dove in and began swimming laps. She swam seventy-five laps before she got out and took off her top to catch some rays. They had a twelve-foot-tall wood privacy fence and none of the neighboring homes overlooked where she lay down. She just hated tan lines but was too much of a girl to go bottomless. So, after a thorough application of an appropriate sunscreen, then twenty minutes on each side and she pronounced herself done. She hardly ever burned and tanned easily, getting a nice golden tan.
It was nigh onto four o’clock when she came back into the house, still topless, carrying her swimming things to the washroom to put them in the hamper. She showered again and this time washed her hair. Charlie would just need to wash and rinse his hair. Now Christie knew she had to wash her long blonde tresses twice and then use a quality conditioner on her hair. She shaved her underarms and legs before sitting down on the edge of the bathtub to carefully trim her bikini line. She’d need to get another wax job soon. Many ballerinas went with a full wax job for the times their role didn’t call for wearing long flowing skirts. A thick mound of hair - down there - was just too easy to detect beneath their tights and leotards, or their swimsuits.
Finished with her feminine detail work, Christie treated herself to a long warm bath, soaking happily until it was nearly time to wake her Mom for their dinner plans. She just had time to get dried off, put her hair in a turban, moisturize her skin and slip on her robe before it was time to wake her Mom.
In her Mom’s room, she smiled and sat down on the bed next to Amanda’s back. Christie leaned over and kissed her Mom on the cheek. Yeah, she was still mad, but not at her Mom anymore. She knew her Mom still loved her, and Christie loved her right back. She kissed her cheek again and called out softly, “Time to wake up, Mom.”
Amanda woke and swept her daughter up into a fierce hug - and then she began tickling her. Christie tried to tickle back in self-defense, but Amanda was too quick and had the strategically superior position - on top. Christie was laughing uncontrollably when she made her escape.
“You’re not mad, are you, Christie?”Amanda asked, cautiously.
“Yes, I am still mad, but not at you, Mom.”
“I’m glad. Thank you for that, dear, I couldn’t live with myself if I had hurt you.”
“I know. I couldn’t hurt you, either, so we’re just gonna have to muddle through this together.”
“Okay, then. Well, you look good by the way. Did you work on your tan today?”
“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 the way I look when I’ve 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 that new on-demand hot water tank, Mom, so yes, I left you a little hot water.”
Amanda threw her pillow at a quickly retreating Christie. She cried a little thinking about what Christie had gone through and had yet to deal with in the coming days. And thought - again - how lucky she was to have been given such a great kid to share her life with.
Christie selected her dress and shoes, before inspecting the contents of her underwear drawer. She had a rainbow of different colored bras and panties and selected a set that matched well with her outfit. The dress was a below-mid-thigh-length, royal blue number with spaghetti straps. The dress material had a metallic shine and the dress had strings of fringe all-around at the hem that went down to the knee. The shoes were satin pumps dyed blue to match the dress, while the strapless bra and panties were just a little darker blue than the dress. With her bra and panties on, she sat down at her vanity to do her hair and makeup. She put most of her hair up in a bun, which she bobby-pinned and added a pair of jeweled chopsticks. She left two tendrils of hair down to frame her face, which she turned into ringlets with her trusty curling iron and setting gel.
Her fingernails and toenails were still outstanding, so she started on her makeup. As this would be a celebratory evening at a nice restaurant, she elected to go with her best glamor look. Foundation, pressed powder, darkened and sharpened brows, smoky eye shadow, eyeliner and three layers of mascara were all carefully selected and even more carefully applied. She decided to go a little light with her blusher, she didn't want to look like an old lady or a working girl, for heaven's sake. She carefully outlined her lips and then using a brush, filled them in with her preferred bright red lipstick. Next, she chose a pair of Swarovski crystal chandelier earrings, a matching necklace, a sterling silver cuff bracelet and two silver amethyst rings.
Finished and satisfied with the results, Christie picked up the matching purse she'd set out and added the necessary items. She quickly checked her calendar, saw that she was safely mid-cycle, and only added a couple of tampons. Her mom had taught her to always have some available, just so she could help someone else in need. Then she got into her dress. It was warm and a bit humid outside tonight, so she had forgone pantyhose or stockings. Her legs looked and felt great without them. Lastly, she needed to choose a scent for the evening. Dolce & Gabbana Light Blue, just one tiny drop behind her ears, on her wrists and her neck.
Done.
She gave herself one final critical check in her mirror. She had taken her time getting ready and it showed. She looked very sexy, but definitely not trashy, more of a glamorous yet sophisticated chic. And she had only taken an hour and a quarter to get ready. Scooping up her purse, she went to check on her mom.
Amanda was just finishing up her own ensemble. She knew what her daughter would probably look like and had worked hard on her own presentation for the night. She didn't want to be outshone by her daughter. Not when she'd only been her daughter for less than twelve hours. Even though they both remembered a whole Christie-lifetime, she couldn't stop herself. It was the principle of the thing!
Christie grinned warmly when she saw her Mom. No, she didn’t look twenty-two anymore, but she was gorgeous, nonetheless.
“Wow Mom, you look great.”
“You look smoking hot yourself, Christie. A little more mature than I’d 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 tried my 'Flashdance -What a Feeling' dance routine. The best thing I can say about this body is that it is in ultra-good physical condition. I did the whole dance routine without getting winded. After a five-minute, high-energy routine, I only needed a half minute or so to recover. I think I might have better cardiovascular fitness than Charlie had."
“Now, that is saying something. Charlie was always running here or there and everywhere. You ready?”
“Yes, Mom, let’s go.”
They entered the garage, past a parked BMW 318, and got into Amanda’s Chrysler 300. Christie opened her door and then stopped to take a closer look at the Beemer. A question formed in her head while Amanda drove them to Donatello’s.
The question solidified in Christie’s mind and she gasped at the implication. “Mom, I just thought of something horrible. If I’ve been Christie my whole life, instead of Charlie, what about Jimmy Wilson?”
“Oh my lord, I hadn’t thought about that. We’ll have to wait until after dinner to check our Sunday newspaper back at the house.”
“The Beemer was still home, just like it was after Charlie’s birthday party. How did it get there if I, err, Charlie didn’t save Jimmy?”
“I don’t know. Check your memory, when did you get it?”
“Yesterday, but the details are kind of fuzzy.”
“For me, too, and that is strange. It’s like my magic took a turn of its own.”
Donatello’s was a very nice, very dressy Italian Restaurant. The Maitre’d was all decked out in his suit and led the ladies to their table.
“Hi Grandma,” Christie called out when she saw her Grandmother Rebekah Hanson waiting for them at their table.
“And how is my favorite Granddaughter?”
“I am your only granddaughter, Gran.”
“You still are my favorite.”
“Hello, Mom,” Amanda said, dropping a quick kiss on Rebekah’s cheek, “It is so good seeing you.”
“It’s good seeing you, too, Amanda. I see everything went well last night.”
"As well as could be expected," Amanda answered diffidently, leaving much unsaid.
A waiter placed a basket of soft breadsticks on the table and took their drink orders: a good Chianti for Amanda and her Mom and an unsweetened ice tea for Christie.
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 questions 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. Ballet Student Christie was on a very strict diet because of the dance recital coming up next month. Even after the recital, she would only eat a few hundred calories a day more than she did currently. 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 have a house salad, but with the dressing on the side. She made sure the waiter knew she was in training and was very serious about it. As a celebratory splurge, however, she did allow herself one and a half breadsticks. Some things were just too good to miss, even if they weren't particularly good calories.
The three women discussed her diet as they ate their salads. Christie only dipped the tips of her fork’s tines into the dressing pot occasionally as she ate her salad.
“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 the nutrition my body needs and maintain my weight, I have to be very strict on what I eat. No more pigging out on pizza, like Charlie did. That is one thing I miss already. Inside, I know I am just as determined to succeed in dance as he was in the dojang.”
“I kind of figured that was the case. It is something I will have to get used to, too. I am just amazed at how good you look. You are gorgeous.”
“Well, I have to agree with your Mom, Christie,” Rebekah put in, “You have a lovely figure for a teen.”
“Mom made me this way, Gran. ”
“No, I didn’t make you this beautiful, dear. The only thing the magic did was turn your Y into another X. You are as you would have been, had you been 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 would likely mess up your mind and make this thing last longer than is absolutely necessary. You will know when there is a lesson and when you have learned it. That is God's truth, honey, and how it was for me and my own Mother in her turn. I can help you keep on the path, but that is about all. Even if you fail to see a lesson for what it is the first time, that doesn't mean you missed your chance, either. When one door closes, another door should soon open. You just have to believe in yourself and BE yourself."
“So has it happened time after time in our family, Christie,” Rebekah told her granddaughter. “This isn’t particular just to you, darling.”
“So, you know about all this, too, Grandma?”
“Yes, I do. I am just like your mother. And you.”
“Mom, I am still worried about Jimmy. I’ve tried and tried to remember but I don’t seem to have any memories of anything dealing with him.”
Amanda quickly explained what Christie was talking about to her mom. She looked a little worried herself and said, "I am amazed that I don't remember anything either. We would know if something bad happened to the boy, I think. I'm just getting nothing."
“I have to admit that is strange. We don’t usually have blank spots or fuzzy spots in our memories. I know you too 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. On a hunch, Christie checked and found the newspaper from their birthday morning breakfast at the diner still on the back seat of her Mother's car. Neither Charlie nor Christie nor Jimmy were on the front page anymore and there was no mention of a dog attack anywhere in the paper. Maybe it didn't happen in this timeline, but that simply didn't make any sense. Something else had to have changed, too, but they couldn't remember anything like that, either.
When they got home, Amanda checked the registration of the Beemer. It belonged to Christie McKellar, free and clear. The previous owner was Bill Cranston BMW, just as it had in Charlie's timeline.
Amanda called Delores up, just to see how things were going with her family. Delores was surprised to hear from Amanda but was still happy to chat with her for half an hour. At last, Amanda asked, "How are the kids, Delores?"
“They are doing wonderfully, Amanda. David is out on a date with his girlfriend Jenny and Little Jimmy is over at Fred Williams’ house playing video games. How is Christie doing? Still doing the ballet thing?”
“She and I went out to dinner tonight at Donatello’s. It was her birthday yesterday, but her ballet class kept her until late and we couldn’t get an early enough reservation. So we had her birthday dinner today with Christie’s Grandmother.”
“Oh, that’s right! She is, what, sixteen now, right?”
“Yep, sweet sixteen. Well, Delores, I have to go now. It’s been really nice talking with you. Take care, dear.”
“You too, Amanda, bye.”
"Curiouser and Curiouser. Well, it's now official, Christie. Jimmy is all right and uninjured. I am glad, naturally, but something I can't account for has changed."
“That is good and bad I suppose. Things like this aren’t supposed to happen, I guess?”
“No, not in my experience, anyway. The only thing I can think of is that Charlie must have done something that precipitated the attack in the first place but I doubt that you caused Mr. Pritchard to buy a pit bull.”
“I hardly had any dealings with him when I was Charlie.”
"Oh well, this is a problem for another time. In the end, no one was hurt, and we need to get to bed. We both go running at five in the morning in this Christie timeline."
“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 winded when they got home, but Christie changed into a bikini and swam a fast twenty laps in the pool. Afterward, 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 and reflect on this ballet class. Every new 'Christie' memory she had about ballet seemed to indicate - strongly - that Christie didn't like Madame Coulter. The woman was acknowledged to be the best, top-level ballet instructor in the community, and she did a fairly good job of teaching the fundamentals of the dance. Christie's problem stemmed from the woman's tyrannical approach to teaching. Ballet was okay, and as far as she could remember, Christie really enjoyed the art.
Christie suspected that ‘Christie before Charlie’, if that made any sense at all, probably just accepted Renee’s sharp tongue and criticisms because that particular version of Christie didn’t know anything better. ‘Christie after Charlie’ did know something better and this Christie longed for the way the Kim family taught their classes.
A random thought brought a giggle bubbling up. Maybe she could get Grandfather Kim to teach Ballet? Or, how about Taekwondo Ballet? Now THERE was a concept! She could clearly see Grandfather in her mind’s eye, teaching the ROK Army (Republic of Korea Army) the basics of ballet. They’d have to be properly outfitted, of course. Camo-colored leggings, leotards and steel-toed, combat-ballet slippers. Her giggle turned into a delighted laugh. She’d have to tell her Mother about that silly little notion, and then was momentarily sad she wouldn’t be able to share it with Grandfather Kim.
Sighing, Christie returned her thoughts to the matter at hand. Madame Coulter was about fifty years old, and from what her Mom had uncovered when she’d checked Madame’s references (years ago!), had begun her school when she had been in her mid-twenties. Christie seemed to recall something about a serious injury ending her performing career, but she couldn’t quite remember any specifics.
Currently, her school trained about forty ballerinas of various ages, ranging from the very young to her oldest enrolled student who was twenty. In addition to the forty ballerinas, she also had four danseur nobles, or male dancers under her tutelage and two of those were quite good.
In truth, Renee's track record of advancing her students to higher levels was a mixed bag. Ballerinas who haven't made it to the pros by twenty-two probably wouldn't. Competition for good-paying jobs for ballerinas was extremely fierce, and many who did turn pro didn't last more than a few years. There were fewer dancers over thirty-five in the pros, usually, that was because the ones who did stay were stars and were getting well paid for their efforts. Madame had graduated a few girls to the professional ranks, but Christie wasn't sure any of them ever made it out of the Corps de Ballet before finding another line of work. Oh, her memory flashed, and she recalled that one girl who'd worked her way up to principal dancer and soloist for one of the regional touring companies in the midwest.
Her school had shown a relatively better success rate with her danseur nobles. Several of them had graduated to more prestigious schools and a couple Christie knew of had caught on with some fairly high-end ballet companies. She wondered about that better performance by Madame's boys. Was it just way less competition for male dancers? Certainly, the ballet was not very high on most young male 'grow up' lists. Or maybe it was just that guys typically were more used to being coached by someone with Madame's . . .umm, direct and authoritative style?
Whatever. For her part, Christie was on the cusp of deciding whether or not she would put out the effort to try to go professional. The constant practice, rehearsals and performances were hard on the ballerinas. Injuries were a constant danger and a reminder of their mortality as dancers. Football players might think THEY had it tough, HAH! They should try stepping out a mile or two in a ballerina’s toe shoes! That would show them what TOUGH was truly all about. Only they wouldn’t, the wimps. Beyond that of course, Christie thought she might well be her Mother’s daughter physically. Staying sleek, svelte and light enough to be partnered by a danseur noble might prove to be very difficult, if not unhealthy.
Christie and Randall Woodson, the seventeen-year-old male dancer, arrived at the studio at the same time, a half-hour before class, as planned. They would use the extra time to polish their own partnered dance routine for the recital. They had choreographed a five-minute dance adaptation reminiscent of the final dance in the movie, 'Dirty Dancing' only with Christie in toe shoes instead of high heels. The dance was sexy and energetic, with lots of en pointe turns presented by her partner.
She liked the way that she and Randall danced together, and always enjoyed working with him on the dance floor. He was hard-working, polite, skilled and had a way of partnering with a ballerina so that both dancers showed their best to the audience. Unfortunately, he knew all that, too and he was an egotistical jerk when off the dance floor.
For this rehearsal, Christie donned a gauzy chiffon wrap-around skirt over her leotard and tights. For the actual performance, she had a pink chiffon cocktail dress picked out at home. Properly made up, she would look a lot like Jennifer Grey and Randall would be a passable Patrick Swayze. Their choreography worked quite nicely, and they were quite hot together as they made their slinky way about the dance floor.
After they’d finished, it was time to work out with their regular class. Christie was surprised to see a few of the girls who had been in Charlie’s white and yellow belt classes taking their places on the dance floor. Were any of them doing dance and Karate? Or had Charlie interacted with them in some way to get them into Karate? Nothing came to mind as she searched her ‘Christie memories’ comparing them to Charlie’s.
Madame Coulter’s commanding screech snapped Christie’s attention back to the dance class. Some of the girls had likened it to a harpy’s shriek. At the moment, she was ‘correcting’ one of her intermediate students, Karen Sampson. She evidently wasn’t doing something or other, perfectly. What that might be, Christie had no clue. The class had barely finished their warmups and she was already finding fault with someone.
After the offender had been suitably berated and punished, Madame Coulter got her students working on one of the major group dances they would be performing at the recital. Christie recalled that up until the end of the school year, this class had met three days a week. Now that it was summer, they would switch to a six days a week schedule as they made final preparations for their late July recital.
The rest of that week and the next one plodded on as it just became more of the same, with the only difference day-to-day, were the dances they worked on that day. The dancers trying to get everything right, trying to avoid getting screamed at, and Madame Coulter just screaming all the more and all the louder at them.
Two more days passed, and Christie was completely fed up with Madame Coulter! On her second Saturday as a girl, she'd been down to just one nerve left and Madame Coulter just HAD to break it.
Christie had just executed a very good pas (set of dance steps) in her opinion, but Madame Coulter had disagreed. Loudly. Then the older woman compounded her mistake and attempted to belittle Christie in front of the entire class.
Christie had been so stunned and then so enraged that later that day, she couldn’t even remember precisely what Madame Coulter said to her. However, she sure as hell remembered how she’d said it! And THEN Madame Coulter had threatened to replace her as soloist with Lisa Brandt.
That was just too much for Christie's frayed temper to take. Lisa Brandt was another sixteen-year-old dancer, but she wasn't nearly as good or dedicated as Christie! This came on the same day when she'd been late for class because she'd had to carefully clean out the sand and ground glass someone had put in her toe shoes while she'd been in the ladies' room. She suspected Lisa Brandt but didn't say anything about it. And now, Madame was insulting her by threatening to give that little bitch her solo?!?
Christie stood up straight to get nose to nose with Madame Coulter and said, "That is enough, Renee, I am tired of you. I've taken all I can of you, and I quit. Enjoy your solos, Brandt!"Christie spun about and stalked off the dance floor and into the dressing room.
Renee Coulter never allowed her students to call her Renee; not even her few adult students. They were all required to address her as Madame Coulter - even their parents did - and Christie had just committed that most grievous sin. Only Christie stopped and came back. She'd decided she wasn't done with the old biddy yet! "You are egotistical, bombastic, pompous, old, despotic, and a bloody tyrant. I'm not your slave, I was your student. Note I said 'was'! That means past tense if you need further explanation. You berate, demean and destroy your students' sense of self-worth to boost your own sense of superiority. Well, you should be glad! I will not subject you to my unskilled presence anymore. You want Lisa Brandt to be your star dancer? You can have her with my blessings. Good… Bye… Renee… Coulter... I won't be renewing my contract next month."
Christie stormed into the dressing room, just grabbed her bag and left without another word or backward glance. Madame Coulter was apoplectic and almost catatonic. In her nearly twenty-five years of teaching, she had never had a student talk back to her like that.
As Christie walked toward home, she thought about calling her mom to come to get her but decided to walk. She really needed to cool off. Charlie had NEVER gone into a rage like that. Of course, no one had ever dissed Charlie like that woman had Christie. Of course, Charlie had been taught by the Kims so he'd never had to deal with such disrespect from a teacher.
Memories of Charlie's experiences at the dojang flooded back, and she suddenly remembered that today was test day at Young-Soo's Karate. Almost without thinking about it, she changed directions and headed for the Kims'. On arrival, Christie instinctively went to remove her shoes, only to realize that she hadn't bothered to change out of her toe shoes before storming out of Renee's studio. Shaking her head at the waste, she took them off knowing that they would probably have to be thrown away now. Her trek here had irreparably damaged them. She put them in her bag for disposal later and went into the dojang.
The white belts were currently testing so she sat down at the side of the mat and watched. It was a little heartbreaking for her, watching her . . . Charlie’s students were testing with her there instead of Charlie. She still cheered them on and felt a deep satisfaction when they all did well, but it just wasn’t the same as being a real part of their success.
Later in the session, the green belts came up for testing, and she was surprised to see Tad was testing. In the Charlie TimeLine, he hadn't been ready. After the green belts' tests were completed today, it was obvious that he still wasn't ready in this timeline either. Needed to work on your darned Poomsae, Tad, she thought quietly to herself. Then, it was Donnie's time to test.
Donnie seemed a little rougher around the edges than Christie expected, but he managed to do well enough to pass. For his first bout, Donnie had to fight Young-Soo, and clearly, neither of them was taking it easy on the other. The sounds of the punches and kicks landing were resounding. Then Donnie had to fight two other black belts from other schools. Donnie fought them well, whipping them pretty clearly. Then he did his breaking demonstration followed by his poomsae. Tests for black belts often lasted several hours and today, it was Donnie's conditioning that ultimately won the day.
At the end of the tests, the black belt committee met privately for about ten minutes to discuss all the students' performances. When they came back, they announced the students that had passed. Only two students hadn't passed their test; a yellow belt who had tested too soon, and Tad whose Poomsae were terrible. Belts and certificates were passed out. The students lined up to thank the testers. Tad was conspicuously missing from the line which was considered bad form and likely would be addressed at his next class. If he ever had another class. The entire group then gathered for a celebratory meet and greet, hosted by the Kims.
Christie stood to leave but when she turned, she ran right into Grandfather Kim, “Excuse me, sir! Please forgive me for running into you like that. 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. Allow me to make introductions, please. 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 until today, sir. I just quit. I didn’t seem to have what it takes to continue at my old school.”
“I don’t sense that in you, child. I sense a strong sense of character in you. You must have had a good reason to quit, but it wasn’t because of anything lacking in you. Have you ever considered studying Ka-Ra-Te?” he said, emphasizing each syllable of the word ‘karate’.
"Yes and no, sir," Christie said, stretching the truth a bit.
“Well, you must speak with Tracy Wilcox. She recruits the girls for our school. Tracy,” Grandfather called out, raising his voice over the partiers, “Come over here! I think we have another new student right here.”
Christie turned to see Tracey coming over, and smiled to herself.
“Hi, I am Tracy Wilcox, 1st Dan black belt.”
“Hi. Well, I am Christie McKellar, former ballerina extraordinaire.” Christie said, going en pointe. “Pleased to make your acquaintance, Tracy.”
"Very cool, Christie," Tracy said, smiling brightly. "If you want to take karate, the tuition is a hundred twenty dollars a month, and you will need a dobok or uniform, and then some safety gear after you earn a yellow belt. Yellow belt students begin to learn to spar."
Tracy took Christie into the office to show her the gear and to talk some more about karate and the classes offered here at the dojang. Christie found it very difficult to talk like a neophyte and barely caught herself making a 'too-knowledgeable' comment several times. Finally, Christie changed the subject to the big black guy who tested, both because she was curious and to deflect Tracy's attention away from her.
“Yes, he is a hunk, isn’t he? He is my boyfriend, Donnie Colt, now 1st Dan black belt Taekwondo, brown belt Gracie Jiu-Jitsu and a Muay Thai fighter. He is looking at getting into a UFC candidates' class in a year or two."
“UFC? What is that?”
"That, my friend, is a shit storm - pardon my language - when it comes to fighting. UFC stands for Ultimate Fighting Championship. There aren't many NO-NO's that are against the rules in UFC fighting. Here, our students spar, but we're supposed to pull our punches and kicks. In the UFC they're fighting full out. It is a real furball."
“Oh really? Wow, that sounds dangerous.”
“It is, and truthfully, I worry about Donnie a lot. I just hope this doesn’t change him for the worse.”
“I don’t think it will. I get the sense that he is a great guy.”
“He is, thanks.”
Christie reached into her gear bag and got her ATM card out. Her Mom had just put a thousand on it to cover her next year’s tuition at the ballet studio. Sorry, Mom, Christie thought. I just can’t take any more of good ole Renee’s nonsense.
When Christie picked out a standard, heavyweight dobok, Tracy tried to talk her into one of the lighter-weight doboks, "The canvas doboks," she said, "are heavier, hotter and scratchier than the lighter weight ones made of cotton."
“I bet the lighter ones are less durable and go transparent with sweat which would be a concern for me. I’m not one of those ladies who glow when they perspire. I sweat, big time. You’re wearing one of the heavy uniforms, aren’t you?”
"Yeah, but I am a black belt. I would have to buy new lightweight doboks practically every month. They tend to get all torn up in the black belt classes. on the modesty thing. I am wearing a heavy-weight T-shirt and a sports bra, under my dobok. All girls should."
“Why do you have the black stripe on the lapel of the uniform?”
"Red and black belts help teach at our school. It saves us money, so we have a different dobok to identify us as instructors. Students are required to wear solid white uniforms till they earn their red belt. You're years away from that, however. It takes a minimum of six years to get to meet the requirements for a black belt and that is pushing it hard. Besides, even if you could, I don't think you would want to. Students miss out on so much when they start jumping belts that fast. We look at karate as more of a life choice than just a martial art."
Tracy was surprised when the young girl bought punches and kicks she really would not need until she had attained her yellow belt. She especially recommended Christie buy a boob protector (ladies chest protector), and a chest guard, mouthpiece, and headgear. Christie then selected a pair of MMA gloves, a pair of Sais and a set of metal fans. The metal fans looked like very ornate, oriental fans 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. Besides, it was pink! There was no pink in Taekwondo.
“Why are you buying weapons? We don’t even begin weapons training until the blue belt level at the earliest? Greens and yellows sometimes get nunchucks to look badass or maybe swords to hang on their walls, but we strongly discourage anyone from trying to learn to use them outside of our formal classes.”
“I think they will look cool on my walls,” Christie replied, even though she had no intention to use these weapons just as wall hangers. “Those fans are really pretty.”
“They are weapons, too and very difficult to use well safely. Just keep them in the original packaging in case your parents complain about them. You could then bring them back and we’d refund your money. I also need your folks to sign a medical release and another release so we can teach you.”
“I just have my Mom now. My dad passed away years ago.”
“I am so sorry.”
“Well, I need to go home and break the bad ballet news to Mom. She isn’t going to have a Prima Donna ballerina in the family, but I am sure I will like karate better. I can use the practice to work off my anger at Renee Coulter.”
“That’s 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 know 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 carried her ballet bag and followed Tracy inside. While in the dressing room, she changed into her street clothes - a tank top and shorts - while Tracy showered and changed. Christie was surprised to see the bruises on Tracy.
“Oh my, how did you get those bruises, Tracy?”
“I was a little careless sparring with Donnie in class the other day. Boy, he can hit hard and I got these with 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 replied with a saucy wink.
Christie decided she was talking about karate and something else altogether.
“He doesn’t beat you, does he?”
"If he ever raises his hand to me in anger, I have a 1911A1 and he knows I'll use it! He has some anger problems, but he would never, ever - ever hurt a girl. That much I am sure of."
Tracy gave Christie a quick tour around the facility and then introduced her to Mark Fresnel, a second red belt who would be her instructor. Charlie didn't know him, he wasn't in Charlie's timeline, but he seemed like a nice enough guy. Cute, too. Mark was about twenty-two years old, five foot ten, about one seventy-five lbs, with blonde hair, deep green eyes and a killer smile. Too bad he was too old Christie thought and nearly tripped over her own feet. Where the heck did that thought come from?? She'd never thought about boys that way before.
Tracy dropped Christie off at her home and surprised her by giving Christie an air kiss before she opened her car doors and got out of the car.
“I am home, Mom,” Christie called, as she came in the front door.
"And just where have you been for three hours, young lady?!" Mom stood just inside the kitchen, her hands fisted on her hips and her face stern. Mom was pissed! "Madame Coulter called me HOURS ago, complaining how you were rude to her and that you just stalked out of her studio in the middle of her class."
"Okay, Mom, first things first. I quit ballet. I am not going back, either. I simply cannot stand the way she treats her students anymore and I will not tolerate it any longer!" Christie gave her mom a word-by-word description of what had happened, what Renee had said to her, and what Christie had said to her in reply. "Then, when she tried to threaten me with Lisa Brandt - Lisa Brandt for heaven's sake! I couldn't take it anymore. I just told her I quit and what I thought of her! I think that's what shocked her the most was that a mere girl would actually stand up to her and call her by her given name, Renee. I will not go back and I will not apologize. She terrorizes those kids, Mom. It's just awful."
“That may be true, young lady, but that isn’t what has MY ire up. I have been sitting here - for more than two hours - waiting for you to come home or to call. I was worried sick about you. Where. . . Have . . .You . ..Been?!”
Christie took a deep breath, feeling instantly repentant. “Kim Young-Soo’s, Mom. I’m truly sorry I didn’t think to call when I got tied up there. That was so thoughtless of me, and you deserve much better from me. It’s just that woman got me so mad, I stopped thinking about anything 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 whatever lesson I was supposed to learn, but I couldn't stand that damn woman anymore. I went to the dojang because they were testing, and I wanted to see Charlie's students go through the advancement testing. I always enjoyed watching my students test, and it was something to distract me from what went down with Renee," Christie said, with a tear in the corners of her eyes. "Anyway, I need you to sign these papers for me so I can start taking classes with the Kims."
Amanda took the papers that were handed to her and quickly shuffled through them. "I probably shouldn't sign these things for you, Christie. I shouldn't, but I will. However, in the meantime, you have got to realize the danger the world presents to you, especially now. You're not a guy anymore and you're not a hotshot karate student. You're a girl who just quit ballet after eight years of classes. Last time I checked, a plie was not a useful defensive maneuver if you are being threatened."
“I know Mom, I’m sorry.”
~-~
Very concerned about the potential ramifications of her daughter's decision on her trial, Amanda performed an in-depth augury late that night. She was surprised to discover that, regardless of her decision to quit ballet, her daughter was still on track. It almost seemed as if her daughter was supposed to drop out of ballet. Amanda smiled in relief for Christie and then indulged in just a little cry for herself. She could remember, fondly, going to recitals to see her daughter dance, only she knew she never really had seen her daughter perform. The spell that warped reality gave people false memories, including her, only she knew they were false. She had been so looking forward to making a real memory of her daughter the dancer at the recital next month. Not to be, she thought, wiping away a few tears.
“At least I know she will probably do well in karate,” Amanda said aloud, trying to encourage herself now. “She can’t help it; it’s in her nature, I guess.”
~-~
Christie started karate classes on the following Monday. After consulting with Christie, his Father and Grandfather, Young-Soo wanted her to come to at least five classes a week. White belt classes were held at ten in the morning on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, with other sessions taught at four o'clock in the afternoon on Tuesdays and Thursdays as well as two classes on Saturday, at eight in the morning and five in the evening. Determined to regain what she'd lost as quickly as she possibly could, Christie planned to attend them all.
Sadly but predictably, she didn’t have to pretend to not be good. Despite all the conditioning she had developed as a ballerina, despite all the knowledge she still had in her head and despite all the grace, speed and strength her body had developed at the barre and on the stage, Christie still had an utter lack of karate-related muscle memory. She had to think about how to do each required action before she could do it at all. Oh, she was very good for a white belt. All white belts were in the ‘thinking first’ mode, but she was a far cry from where Charlie had been as a 1st Geup red belt.
Mark Fresnel's class consisted of forty-eight white belts ranging in age 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. This was a very large class, but at least not every student attended every class. He averaged thirty students a session. An experienced instructor, after two days, he already knew his best student in this batch was Christie.
When she wasn't in a class herself, she would be in the dojang watching the other classes, doing her exercises, or working out on an unused heavy bag. It was generally accepted by everyone who noticed her there that she was a true fitness junkie. She had been a ballerina after all. Although, not everyone in the dojang appreciated just what that meant about Christie's unusual state of fitness.
One of the new fourteen-year-old male white belts, Craig Breeder, stuck his foot in his mouth, when he said, in Christie's hearing no less, that ballerinas weren't athletes. Craig was five-foot-seven and a hundred and forty-five pounds. He was a starting defensive back on the junior varsity football team and was taking karate to toughen himself up, improve his coordination and stay in shape over the summer.
“Hey, big guy,” Christie immediately challenged, “You say that ballerinas aren’t athletes? Okay, put your body where your mouth is. You and I will exercise until I get tired. If you can hang with me to the end, 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," Wilma warned from her position just off the mat. "She will eat your breakfast AND your lunch. And if you lose, we will expect you to wear that tutu!"
“Hell, she can’t be in as good a shape as I am.” Craig scoffed. “I am a defensive back on my football team and I ran track last spring. I think she’ll look mighty fine on my arm, too. As long as I don’t have to do any of those ballerina things, I should be all right.”
“Then we won’t have a weight lifting competition, either. I know you can lift more weight than I can. So, how about we let Wilma decide what exercises we do; only the last challenge will be a distance run until I get too tired to go any further.”
Wilma was smiling, “I will go along with that, but once again, Craig. I am telling you. Don’t do it.”
“You’re on, Christie,” Craig said, a broad smirk on his face.
“Let me run this by Young-Soo, first,” Wilma said. “We don’t want to do something that will make him mad. If he approves of it, we will get right on it right now. If he doesn’t, you may need to come up with 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 understood the stakes.
For the next hour and a half, Wilma worked the two kids like an old-time Marine Corps Drill Instructor from the Paris Island boot camp. To be on the safe side, she had them start with stretches, Christie had no problems with but Craig was relatively tight in his thighs and calves. Then she ran them through pushups, sit-ups, crunches, squat thrusts, jumping jacks, leg raises, trunk twisters, arm circles, jumping toe touches and crab walking. Both kids were sweating profusely after they'd finished her round of calisthenics. They put their shoes on and then ran to a school track a couple of blocks away. Wilma gave them five minutes to stretch, hydrate and recover before she started them running.
When she saw the way Craig was running even in the beginning, Christie knew she had him. Football players rarely ran any distances over a mile or two. Oh, they ran the hell out of the forty-yard and hundred-yard sprints, but Charlie and Christie would often run five to ten miles, several times every week. 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 showed well for himself managing to finish two miles. If he had simply matched Christie’s pace, he might have lasted longer. After all, the bet had been that she had to quit, not that he could outrun her. But Craig had decided he’d run her into the ground, a strategy that failed miserably. When he laid down gasping for air on the ground, she just kept to her own pace and ran another two miles further than he had.
Christie grinned as she passed the guys that were helping Craig stretch out where he’d stopped. Sure, she could have quit after he stopped, but she felt that she had something to prove to him. Even when she was Charlie, he’d had problems dealing with people who thought that they were better physical specimens than he was. When Christie finally stopped, she was exhausted, too. She still took the time to cool down properly and hydrate. She would need to take a nice hot bath and maybe use a little Ben Gay on the sore spots, but she had, by golly, still been going when Craig fell out. WINNER!
Craig was up on his feet when she walked up having completed her cool down, and he appeared quite contrite, too. Gingerly, 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 you? Do you think maybe they can catch a football or make a tackle?.”
Christie shook his hand giggling. She was glad that he was taking it all in a good-natured way, "No, not all of them, just the ones who hope to be good, dancing is hard work. And the ones who are won't want to play football. Bruised legs look just awful in a tutu."
Back at the dojang, both kids took long hot showers, to work out the kinks.
Friday, both kids were in the morning class. Mark gave Christie a wink as they lined up, nodding his head to where Craig stood, garbed in a wraparound, chiffon skirt she had used in ballet practice atop his regular uniform. For her part, Wilma was a little disappointed and said as much. She'd had her heart set on seeing him dolled out like a ballerina in a tutu, but everyone agreed that that was enough.
Saturday, Christie was working with her class, doing the back punch, step, back punch drill, when she heard her name being screamed. Turning around to see, she was surprised to see Madame Coulter stalking into the dojang in four-inch stiletto heels.
“Christie, my dear, we need to talk. Now.”
“Excuse me Kyo Sa Nim,” Christie said with a bow to Mark, before she went over to Madame Coulter.
“Renee, you need to step back outside of the Dojang and take your shoes off, please,” Christie said before Madame could say anything.
“What? I most certainly will not. And my name is Madame Coulter,” She said emphasizing her name, “We need to talk.”
“If you want to talk to me, you will step outside of the Dojang and take your shoes off. I will talk with you after you come back after you’ve taken your shoes off, as proper courtesy dictates here.”
“Oh, that is so silly! Look, come outside with me and we’ll talk.”
“I will not!”
If looks could kill, Christie would likely have been severely wounded at the very least. Renee turned, and stepped outside the Dojang, took her shoes off and then stomped back inside. By this time, all the three Kims had come over to investigate the disruption and were standing behind Christie waiting to find out what was 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 in the soloist role.”
“I seem to recall that you said that she was better than me. Quite loudly and quite publicly, in fact.”
“I did, but it was just to motivate you to do better. I felt you were slacking.”
“That still does not make your problem into 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 forced herself to admit, “but not as well as you, nor does she have the stamina that you do. Why is that boy wearing that skirt?” She said suddenly, as she looked past Christie to see Craig.
“He didn’t have the stamina of my new Jeja Christie, either,” Young-Soo answered, grinning.
“And just who are you?” Madame Coulter demanded.
“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 began but Kim just shook his head. “Christie used to be one of my Ballet students. She quit rather suddenly last week, and I find myself needing her quite desperately for three more weeks. Otherwise, I may have to cancel the recital and that would disappoint a lot of my students and their parents.”
“Renee, as I told you last week. I quit. I am no longer your student. You were too tyrannical and unfair for my tastes.”
“Christie, I will say this just one more time!. You WILL call me Madame Coulter. You do NOT have the privilege of my Christian name!”
“Let us talk with our student privately for a moment, please, Madame Coulter,” Young-Soo said in a respectful tone that set Christie’s teeth on edge.
The three Kims moved well away from where Madame Coulter stood and faced their young student. Young-Soo took the lead, "First, you will address her as Madame, Jeja. What you learned from her, she taught you well, did she not?"
“Yes, but…”
Young-Soo held up a hand to stop Christie, “Even a bad Sa Bum Nim is worthy of his or her title if he truly teaches his students and they learn what is taught. Is what she just said true? Will she have to cancel the recital and will it disappoint her other students?.”
Christie thought for a few seconds and sighed, “Probably. I know Lisa couldn’t do my duet or my solo dance. She could dance the other three routines just . . .just not as well.”
“Would these other students be hurt? After all, they did practice so hard and wouldn’t they prefer to have the chance to show off their skill?”
Christie was torn; she really did love to dance. Even Charlie loved to dance. That was one of the reasons he'd loved doing Poomsae as much as he had. In her heart, she was forced to admit that the other girls would be greatly disappointed if they couldn't dance in the recital. She certainly would have been, had she been in their toe shoes. "Yes, Sa Bum Nim, they would be greatly disappointed."
“Then maybe you could dance these two dances for Madame Coulter and for your former classmates?.”
“As long as she accepts that after the recital, I will no longer be her student and that she realizes that I will only do the pas de deux and the pas seul. If she agrees to those conditions, then I will do it.”
“Stay here, little one, and let us talk with her a bit.”
The Kims walked over to Madame Coulter and began talking with the lady. Initially, she seemed to be arguing with them but eventually, she nodded her head in apparent agreement. Young-Soo waved for Christie to join the four of them.
"Jeja Christie, Madame Coulter has agreed to your terms that you will dance the pas de deux and the pas seul. You will attend her studio for class and rehearsals on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays until 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 further claim on your time."
“I agree, Sa Bum Nim,” Christie replied formally, adding a deep bow.
"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 goodwill towards her, as well."
~-~
Reluctantly and with more than a little trepidation, Christie entered the dance studio. Many of the girls were excited to see her and ran over to mob-hug her. One stood back and fumed.
“Well I see you are back to save our bacon, Christie,” Lisa said, every word dripping in venom.
“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 new toe-shoes, before putting her hair up into a bun and covering it. Back outside on the dance floor, she met up with Randall.
“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 simply wasn’t going to dance with Lisa. Lisa couldn’t keep up with me and she was only concerned about making herself look 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 extra 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.
“Let me queue up our music.”
Christie and Randall worked on their number for about a very productive hour and a half. They danced the number several times, paying particular attention to a couple of problem areas. They made some small changes and tried the new sequences out.
Randall then had Christie watch as he did his “Footloose” Warehouse dance. She knew that he was good, probably better technically than she was. He could dance circles around Kevin Bacon. She did stop him a couple of times and made some suggestions. She’d dance her proposed sequences for him to see, then he’d try them out on his own. Randy kept most of them after adapting them to his style.
Christie then did her ‘Flashdance-What a Feeling’ solo several times with Randall critiquing her dance.
“Stop a second,” Randall called out at one point. “In the movie, Alexandra Owens worked as a welder during the day and as an exotic dancer at night. To be a successful dancer, she would have had to be comfortable with her body and her sensuality. You are doing a very good job on the technical aspects of the dance, 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, ‘So, we kick the sexy up, Christie!’ She giggled to herself a bit and then started the number over from the top, and then took it WAY over the top in a campy sort of way. Just like some of the characters she’d seen on Ru Paul’s Drag Race show do sexy. By the time she finished, Randall was laughing delightedly and had a huge smile on his face.
“Okay,” he said, choking back another laugh, “You might need to tone that back down a bit or you may get us raided by the morality police, but you’ve definitely got the idea now.”
She took a minute to recover a bit before centering herself again. Then she nodded for Randall 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 before she'd left the studio so she just went with the flow. While the 'What a Feeling' routine was high energy, the 'Maniac' sequence was insane. She went with the flow of the music and let it take her away. She was a little tired when the number finished but six seconds after the end of 'Maniac', 'What a Feeling' began. She just continued with her dance.
"That is how you ought to do your last dance," Randall cheered. "It will be your swan song. You will be leaving right after your dance, so go out with a bang, girl!" 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 one of the big schools in New York City. If I do well there, it will bring me just another step closer to joining 'The Dance Company'."
That was the dream for so many of the young Ballerinas and Danseurs; signing on with ‘The Dance Company’ meant you were at the pinnacle. That you were among the best in your craft.
“Oh my, that’s going to curl her hair! Losing her two best students in the space of just a few weeks?”
“Yep. Mom and I will leave town on August 15th, while dad will move in January or February. Oh, and the word I’ve heard is that a talent scout from ‘The Dance Company’ will be at our recital.”
“Can I ask you a question, Randall?”
“Let me guess. You want to know why girls don’t like me outside of dance class,” Randall said. Christie nodded, and he shrugged, “I don’t have the time for girls right now. Look, no offense intended, but girls are high maintenance. They expect and have a right to expect certain things from a guy in a relationship with them. Right now, they’d expect too much from me because I am high maintenance. That is not a good mix. Not only that, but I would never, ever consider going out with another dancer and they’re the only girls I spend any time with right now. I would have tried to make an exception for you, but you and me as a couple wasn’t going to happen, was it?” In answer, Christie shook her head no. “So my being somewhat acerbic and aloof was a defense mechanism for me. And just 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 proper cow, but yes, I understand.”
“It’s a real shame, if she worked harder, she could be good, maybe better than good. She has the classic Ballerina build, great legs, slim build and flat chest. I think she could make it as a professional dancer if she worked as hard as you do.”
Christie thought about it and after doing both high-energy routines together, she could feel it in her chest. She'd had to work very hard to maintain her balance with her boobs throwing everything out of kilter. And the strain on them from dancing that energetically was another good reason for leaving dance right now.
Truthfully, the same argument could be made to support her abandoning her karate. Some of the Poomsae were pretty energetic, too. Not only that, no one was trying to kick or punch her in the chest when she danced. Christie had a good giggle at her own expense; dance or karate? Which was safer for the 'girls'? Then again, with her karate, she would be able to defend this great bod of hers from people with wicked intent. And by golly, If she had to be a girl, it was better to be a good-looking girl. Karate wins!
~-~
Mark was going over his current crop of students with the other instructors during the weekly black belt and red belt meeting Saturday night. "I am really amazed by how quickly and easily Christie picks up the basics. I would recommend testing her for yellow belt, 8th Geup. Let her skip the 9th Geup Yellow Stripe belt test. As I said, I’ve 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 a critical piece of their retention program for summer students.
"It is agreed, then. Christie McKellar will test for the eighth yellow on the eleventh of August," Young-Soo said.
~-~
For the next two weeks, Christie went to both her karate classes and dance classes. Randall wasn't such a prick now that she shared his secret. Tad, on the other hand, was being a real jerk. He'd asked her to go out with him at least a half-dozen times over the last two weeks. This was just another time she resented the loss of her Charlie-level martial arts skills. Tad didn't respect girls as a given. He particularly didn't respect girls that he was three or four belt ranks above at the dojang. Christie was beginning to worry that he was going to become a real problem for her very soon.
Another open issue Christie had on her mind from her Charlie timeline was Valerie Stevens. While Christie had been studying dance, she'd never had much contact with Valerie outside of sharing some classes at school with her. Now that she was training at the dojang again, she seemed to find herself around the pretty blonde rather often, and they seemed to hit it off pretty well. Christie's Mom had talked with her about relationships among girls her age. She'd worried because it seemed so different from what Charlie had experienced with his guy peers. Sure, she had her 'Christie Memories' and some of those were about her girlfriends as Christie grew up. The only problem with that was Christie wasn't sure just how much she could rely on those magically manufactured memories.
One day, Christie found Valerie Stevens crying once in the dojang changing room before a class. Christie asked her what was wrong and the girl replied that she didn't know what was bothering her. She felt like she had lost something, but for the life of her she couldn't think what that something might be. Christie took a seat beside her and held her hand while Valerie tried to compose herself. When she began to calm down, Christie hugged her the way her Mom hugged her when the girl-gloom hit her. Strangely, Valerie relaxed and began to feel better after Christie hugged her and comforted her. The girls' friendship began to blossom after that, and by the end of the summer, they were well on their way to being what Mom had called 'best girlfriends.' Christie decided that it was a nice feeling.
~-~
With the recital only three days away, Christie had agreed only to attend her ballet classes. Sure, it was to be her last dance performance, and she was determined it was going to do her best dance, too. Ever! Not only for herself, or merely to show Renee what she’d thrown away, but as her gift to her Mom and Grandmother who always supported and loved her. Deep down, she knew her Mom was saddened by Christie’s decision to choose karate over ballet and wanted to give her one lasting and very special memory.
Saturday morning, Amanda dropped her daughter off at the theater two hours before the recital. Unusually, Christie was more nervous than Amanda ever remembered Charlie having been. Even when Charlie had tested for his first red belt calm, cool and completely focused on the task ahead. In an earlier aside, Christie had pointed out that Charlie knew he’d get to pound on someone during the test to work off his nerves. Christie, because she was the featured dancer and had become the de facto leader of the little ballet troupe, had to smile confidently and be supportive of her fellow dancers. Amanda knew her support wasn’t half-hearted, either. Christie really wanted all the girls, but especially the young girls, to go out and dance well. Amanda wished them all joy and hoped that they would truly enjoy the fruits of their hard labors.
As she made her rounds of the girls, Christie made a particular point of seeking out Lisa Brandt to wish her well today. Of course, she might have admitted to feeling just the teensiest spark of wicked satisfaction when Lisa almost jumped out of her skin when Christie came up from behind her and wished her well. Christie even smiled at the nasty little bitch when she did it.
The first dance performance went very well. All the young girls danced their supporting roles beautifully and even Lisa did a decent job as the soloist in place of Christie. Randall had already assumed his starting position at the very back of the audience as the girls did their ‘dancers’ run’ to leave the stage.
Their routine had been timed to start about twenty seconds after the applause stopped. Into that lull, Christie began moving in classic ballet style, floated out in front of the stage before the music even started and posed. Her pink chiffon dress sparkled and glittered under the single spotlight and she looked gorgeous.
Then, the stage and house lights dimmed, and the familiar introductory notes of ‘I’ve had the Time of my Life’ began to play over the theater sound system. Christie moved gracefully toward the front of the stage just as the audience realized Randall was coming down the center aisle of the theater. He sped up his last three steps towards her and she fell into his arms for the first lift. The first segment of their dance routine was performed up close and personal to the audience, with Christie up on her toes, and Randall partnering her perfectly.
One young boy tried to try to trip Randall while he was doing a walking lift in front of the audience. Fortunately, his mom caught him just before Randall got to him. “Maybe you would like to join the ballet?” his mom growled, just loudly enough for anyone seated in her vicinity to hear. “Your sister would just love to take you to her school with her and you’d be so cute up there dancing in a tutu.”
Christie made a remarkable leap up on the stage, followed by Randall. The two of them danced beautifully together, Christie worked hard so that Randall’s strength and grace were fully displayed as 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.
Randall had to hurry and change costumes because he only had a couple of minutes before he was supposed to be on the stage with the troupe. He hated dancing with Lisa, but he couldn’t disappoint the other girls in the routine any more than Christie would have been able to so he sucked it up. Christie’s pas de sol would be next on the program. Changing into her flash dance costume, she quietly psyched herself up to go out and kill her ‘What a Feeling’ dance.
As the troupe left the stage she came right out and began by doing her ballet stretches. The music started, and Christie moved into the initial, slow portion of her dance. She went into a slow pirouette, spinning gracefully at her full extension and then came to a stop, holding position just as the music held the last slow note. Suddenly, the music jumped, as did her pace. Christie was in the zone now and it showed. She thrilled the audience with her ability and stamina as her dance went totally extreme. 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.
Back in the dressing room, Christie grabbed a quick shower and changed back into her chiffon dress, this time with hose and heels. She thought, just for a weak second, about heading out the back door, that would have been cheating the crowd and the other members of the troupe. Randall was just finishing his Footloose number when she finished dressing and stepped out into the off-stage area. She applauded him and gave him a congratulatory hug as the girls went out for their last number.
Lisa might not have been the best dancer in the show, but Christie thought she acquitted herself well. If she danced these pieces again after two months more practice, she would do much better. In fact, she had obviously worked harder than she ever had in the three weeks since Christie returned to help the show. 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 beautifully they had performed.
Sad to say, however, Renee Coulter stayed true to form. Even though her girls had danced their hearts out, the best thing she could be bothered to say was that they danced adequately. Then? Then she began to nitpick their performances. "Sue, you missed your marks. Rita? Your pirouettes were out of sync with the other dancers in the Corps de Ballet," And so on, and so forth. Just typical Renee Coulter sniping and cut downs.
Christie had heard enough! “Excuse me, Renee,” Christie called out, more loudly than necessary, and was pleased when Madame Coulter’s face went pasty and splotchy. A student who did not fear her was the woman’s worst nightmare. She’d miss having Christie, but just now? She was glad the snotty little bitch was leaving. “Despite their few flaws, I think they danced superbly. Even Lisa danced her heart out. I have learned, from my Karate class instructors, that if you praise people, it lifts their spirits and makes them want to work harder for you. Yes, there were some imperfections, but they all danced FAR better than you deserved, Renee. You DEFINITELY should have praised them just now for what they did accomplish, and then waited to work on the supposed imperfections with them later! Like, maybe, next week in class? At least that is what I think.”
Christie spun on her heels and marched out, leaving Renee behind for good. She grabbed her NOT-pink gear bag and hurried for the stage exit, expecting to see her mother waiting. She was there waiting, along with a whole crowd of other folks!. There must have been more than half of Young-Soo's students out there and they were all applauding her! What surprised her, though, was to see all three Kims there, in Tuxedos, no less, standing alongside her mother and grandmother. In the middle of all that confusion, two hands found her waist and lifted her high into the air. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw it was Randall. He'd had come out right behind her, and now he was gracefully carrying her down the three steps. Randall set her gently down in front of her Mom, who had tears of joy and pride in her eyes as she hugged her daughter.
“Christie, you were incredible! I can hardly believe how much you and your dancing have matured.”
"Thank you, Mom, I love you so much, and I am really glad you enjoyed my dancing. I'm just relieved to be out from under the tutelage of Madame Coulter. Can you believe what she told her students after that wonderful performance? "Girls, you danced adequately, blah, blah, blah… Sue, you were a millimeter off your mark, Rita, you were milliseconds off on your turns." Those girls were very good, Mom, and she didn't give any of them a single word of praise!"
“I think they performed beautifully, too, Christie, and I now fully understand why you prefer your karate instructors. Grandfather Kim, Master Kim and Kim Young-Soo.” She turned to face Grandfather Kim. “Please continue taking such good care of my little girl.”
Grandfather Kim answered her, beaming one of his million-dollar smiles, "We will, Mrs. McKellar. Oh, we very definitely will."
Christie sidled up 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, Adeunim. He has always been like that. Mrs. McKellar, I hadn’t originally planned on going out to eat, but your daughter’s suggestion is just too tempting. Would you please be my date for the evening?”
“I would be most charmed to be your escort tonight, sir,” Amanda replied, giving Master Kim a quick curtsy.
Young-Soo turned to his twelve-year-old daughter and offered her his arm, "Well, looks like it's you and me, kid."
Eunice, following the excellent example of Christie, said, “Sorry, Dad. I’ve decided that Greg will be my escort,” she said, turning her all-too-knowing eyes coyly on Greg Wenzel. “That is if he ever gets around to asking me nicely to be his date.”
Thirteen-year-old Greg, who had tagged along with his older brother today when he’d learned that his secret crush, Eunice, was going to be in attendance, looked momentarily stunned, but he managed to stammer out something that sounded almost like a date invitation.
Eunice offered Greg her arm and Greg took it.
Young-Soo just shook his head and smiled, “Decided to put the poor guy out of his misery, eh? I can’t wait till your Mom gets back from South Korea. Come along then, Greg and Eun Ae.”
“Daaaad-dy! I’ve told you to call me Eunice!” Eun Ae scolded her father. ‘Eunice’ was close to her Korean name and she liked the Romanized version of her name. “And no fair giving away a girl's secrets like that!”
“I reserve a father’s right to embarrass their children, my dear. Oh, Greg? Would you like to see Eun Ae’s baby photos after dinner?” Young-Soo asked, mischievously.
“Daaaad! Don’t. You. Dare!!”
Young-Soo just grinned wickedly at his daughter before turning away to lead Eun Ae and a goofy-grinning Greg to his car.
The troupe headed out to a fancy restaurant, where there just happened, magically, it seemed, to be able to set a table for a party of fifteen people. Amanda just winked at her daughter.
~-~
Monday morning, Christie was happily surprised to find three of the young girls from her ballet class waiting for her in the lobby of the dojang with their mothers. One of the mothers, Cindy’s Mom, if Christie’s memory held true, smiled, then came over and said, “Hello Christie. You danced wonderfully in the recital, dear.”
“Hello, Mrs. Pettis, thank you, it’s nice to see you, again. Looks like you might have been waiting for me. How can I help you?”
Mrs. Pettis made a circling motion with her hand, indicating she was speaking for all of the mothers there. “We heard what you said to Renee the other day after the recital. You see, Rhonda, Barbara and I went out to eat with our girls after the recital. The girls told us what Renee had said to all of the dancers and what you said to her. I was pretty torn up about it. I love ballet, you see, and I’ve always had secret hopes of having a ballerina in the family.”
Mrs. Pettis shook her head as if trying to shake an unpleasant memory before continuing. “Only, Cindy always seemed to come home after class upset by what Renee had to say about them that day. Well, after dinner, we all came to my home. The girls went to Cindy’s room to play around, I talked things out with Barbara and Rhonda. We all agreed that Renee is good, very good in fact, but she is too full of herself. We felt she was taking her failure to get to the big show out on our daughters and her other students. Dance should be fun and the girls aren’t having any fun with Renee. We decided we were going to pull them out of ballet. When we broke that news to the girls, they were thrilled and then asked if they could take karate with you.”
Christie looked around the door into the studio and saw that Young-Soo was in his office. “Ladies, Girls? Please come with me to Sa Bum Nim Young-Soo’s office.”
“Sa bum nim? What does that mean, Christie?” 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 students. It’s not like it was with Madame Coulter. They don’t demand the title and the respect, they earn it.”
Christie led everyone to Young-Soo’s office where she politely knocked on the door jamb to get his attention. When he looked up, she bowed and said, “Sa Bum Nim, 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. And do I recognize some of the magnificent dancers from Saturday's performance?"
“Yes, indeed, Sa Bum Nim. May I please present to you Mrs. Linda Pettis and her daughter, Cindy, Mrs. Barbara Dwyer and her daughter, Kelly and Mrs. Rhonda Newton and her daughter, Carly. They are here to talk about these young ladies possibly taking Karate.” Young-Soo responded with a quick bow to and a handshake with each of the Mothers before gesturing towards some seating off to the side of his office.
“Please have a seat, ladies. I remember you three beautiful young ladies. You all danced wonderfully. Me and my own daughter, my father and grandfather thought you were marvelous.”
The mothers smiled proudly as their daughters just giggled.
The three moms filled the office couch. Christie started to leave but was stopped by Young-Soo. So she sat on the floor, inviting the girls to join her. All three girls tried to occupy her lap and succeeded to a small extent. Christie just hugged all three girls to her to keep them from falling off her lap.
The mothers talked with Young-Soo, speaking very frankly. Their primary worry was that their daughters might get hurt in the karate classes. Young-Soo explained that while they couldn't guarantee that their daughters wouldn't get hurt, they took every possible safety precaution to ensure that they didn't. He explained that no student was ever allowed to spar until they had reached a point in their training where they could handle and protect themselves. The mothers were told that they could come and watch their girls without invitation, any time they wanted, which was something Madame Coulter didn't like and actively resisted.
Young-Soo was very smooth with the mothers. He was a good salesman when it came to promoting Karate as a safe and beneficial activity for youngsters. In the end, all three Moms agreed to sign their girls up for a one-month free trial before regular tuition fees would begin. They would only be required to buy the uniform.
“Jeja Christie, would you please outfit these beautiful girls and show them around the dojang?”
“It would be my pleasure, Sa Bum Nim. C’mon, ladies. Time's-a-wastin’.”
Christie didn’t have enough hands as each of the girls tried to claim one. That earned a giggle as she led them to the dojang shop and got the girls sized for their dobok. At least after that, the girls had their arms full. Next, Christie led them on a tour.
“Girls, this is important. We always take our shoes off before we enter the dojang - that’s what the main studio is called, by the way. Just take your shoes off and put them in these boxes,”Christie said, demonstrating with her own footwear.
The girls followed her lead, and then she showed the girls the three main instruction rooms where they could expect to take classes and drill.
Entering the largest of the room, Christie explained, "This is the main room, where your classes will usually be taught. See the mirrors on the wall? Just like in Madame Coulter's classroom, you will use those to see if you are doing the moves correctly. Just be careful that you don't kick or hit the mirrors. These other two rooms are usually for advanced students who need space to work on advanced techniques or work with weapons. Don't ever go into one of those rooms without an instructor with you. Like Sa Bum Nim told your Moms, we don't want you to get hurt. Over here we have punching bags and weights. Don't play with these till you get more experienced and have permission from an instructor. Back here is the changing room and the showers," Christie dramatically pinched her nose and lowered her voice conspiratorially, "The smelly boys go over there and us girls use this one."
The girls all oh-ed and yucked as they passed the boy's entrance, suitably disgusted by such masculine indelicacies. While she'd said it to get a reaction from her charges, Christie realized for the first time just how smelly the boy's side was, even from outside the entrance. Why hadn't Charlie ever noticed that pong, she wondered?
In the changing room, there were baskets on box-like shelves next to benches for seating. Christie told the girls to find an empty basket to put their stuff into it and then change into their doboks. Christie did the same. She taught them how to put their dobok on and demonstrated how they were supposed to tie their white belts. Christie then led them to the back of the dressing room, where there was a sauna, a Jacuzzi and the showers. "Don't go into the sauna or Jacuzzi without someone older with you," Christie cautioned and then led the way past the sinks, toilets and towels that were near the showers.
The tour complete, Christie hustled her little brood out into the large classroom where she introduced them to their black belt instructor Wilma. Wilma drafted Christie to work with her and the girls and proceeded to teach them dojang etiquette followed by proper stretches and warm-ups. Wilma was beyond amazed at how flexible these girls were. Once she was sure they were all warmed up and wouldn't pull any muscles, she and Christie moved on to start working on basic punches, kicks and blocks. After thirty minutes of what Wilma thought had been a fairly intense effort, she started to take it easy on the girls.
Christie, however, was having none of that! “Keep going, Wilma. These girls are tougher than they look. They aren’t even sweating yet. Madame Coulter worked them a lot harder than this, every class.”
“Okay, Christie,” Wilma conceded. “How about you work with them for a while. I will watch and correct them.”
Christie immediately took control and began to work the girls much harder than was normal for brand new students taking their first-ever class at the dojang. Wilma didn't get a chance to correct them because Christie was on every mistake like a fly on stink, but she did it with style and made the girls feel good about themselves and what they'd accomplished. The girls just soaked it up. Wilma very quickly realized two facts. One, these girls were already very fit athletes and two, they liked Christie and working with her.
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 soon became a fixture helping with the kids’ classes. Senior instructors noted that she worked the kids harder than the other instructors, but not brutally hard. She just seemed to know when the kids needed to stop and when they needed to keep pushing. Her kids showed remarkable improvement which was also noted by the senior instructors.
In her classes, she had come a long way towards training Christie’s body to some of what Charlie had lost. As time went on, it was clear that she was better than any of the other White or Yellow belts and might just be at least competitive with some of the Green Belts. Still, Christie wasn’t satisfied with her performance or her growth.
A big part of her problem with herself, unfortunately, was that Christie was a girl and Charlie had been a boy. In the two months that she had been working out at this dojang, her upper body strength had improved - somewhat. She had progressed from being able to do fifty-pound bench presses (barely!) to one hundred-fifteen pound bench presses - over a 100% improvement, but still a far cry from Charlie's two hundred ninety-five pound bench press.
One afternoon, she was working out on a heavy bag, wearing her MMA gloves, when her frustration boiled over. She was hitting the damn bag exactly the way that Charlie had, but she wasn't getting the satisfaction that Charlie had gotten hitting the bag. She knew the answer. Her head was both Charlie and Christie, but her body was just Christie. She sat on the floor in the lotus position, frustrated, lost in thought and trying to stare a hole through the bag.
"Jeja, what are we doing?" Grandfather Kim asked. Somehow, he had snuck in and was seated next to her in the lotus position. Surprised to see him, she began to scrabble to her feet to bow to him but Grandfather just put his near hand gently on her shoulder to hold 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 just not happy with the results.”
Nodding his understanding, Grandfather smiled and ordered, “Tell me about your opponent, Jeja, and I will tell you how to fight him. Not all opponents can be fought the same way, nor can any two fighters always use the same technique to defeat such an opponent.”
Resisting the urge to growl, Christie complied, “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 then slowly drew his right hand back to his hip. He straightened out his fingers into a spear hand, and with a loud, "Keeahh," he thrust his hand through the leather shell and into the bag. His hand was buried up to the wrist in the heavy bag.
They both heard, “Oh geez, Grandpa, not another heavy bag, those things cost a lot of money. I am going to have to go to the hardware store and buy another roll of duct tape.”
Christie started to giggle, she couldn’t help it. Her mood was much lighter now. Grandfather Kim sat back down next to Christie.
“Don’t try a spear hand thrust, Jeja. That technique requires decades of practice to toughen your hands up enough, and you can lose a degree of dexterity in the effort. Tell me. How would you fight our little Ricky?”
“Oh, god, I hate to contemplate fighting little Ricky! He is so bloody fast, but the only way I could win would be to keep on the offensive and keep Ricky on his heels. I would attack straight on using front leg snap kicks, back fists, jabs, back punches and such. He would turn into a circular attack to counter me. I would use as much power as I could to hurt him and slow the little bug down!”
“And how would you fight Donnie Colt?”
"Geez, Grandfather! Just staying alive against Donnie would be an accomplishment. Okay, if I had to fight him? Well, 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 wheelhouse and pepper him with circular attacks. Round kicks, ridge hands, hook kicks. My power attacks would never hurt him. He has hardened his body to that kind of attack. I would have to target his head, nerve bundles, solar plexus, his joints - knees, elbows, shoulders and his gonads if I was fighting him on the street. I would hurt him as quickly as I could and then run away as fast as I could." Christie started giggling then. "I know I could run him to death if nothing else."
“Yet, that isn’t how Charlie fought him,” Grandfather observed casually.
“I am not Charlie any longer,” Christie said, without thinking, and then nearly wrenched her neck as her head spun to stare at Grandfather Kim. “You know? Knew? How?”
“Jeja, there is much for you to learn. There is more magic in this world than what you know.”
“Of course! YOU saved Jimmy from that darn dog. We couldn’t figure out what happened!”
“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 Pritchards probably found their dog hiding under his master’s bed. People shouldn’t own such dangerous animals unless they can and will control them. Unfortunately, Mr. Pritchard has a mean streak to go along with his paranoia.”
“But, why do I still have the car? Mr. Wilson gave it to me, I mean, to Charlie for saving his son’s life. I doubt Mr. Wilson even knows me as Christie.”
"Again I say, no good deed should go undone. I arranged for you to receive that car, and I expect to see you driving that car soon, Jeja. Now back to the issue before us. Christie, your mind, body and spirit are not in balance. Practice and self-discipline will bring your body and mind into line, but you have much work yet to do to bring your spirit in line. You will never find balance till all three are in tune. Now, what are your strengths, Christie?"
"I have better balance than I ever had before. I have great stamina and killer legs," Christie said giggling. At Grandfather's flat stare, she choked them back and continued. "I mean, I feel that my round kicks, hook kicks and snap kicks will be great. My sidekicks and back kicks will suffer in comparison to Charlie's. He had twenty-five pounds of core muscle I will never have. On the other hand, umm, other foot? Anyway, my feet are a lot stronger than his. Charlie could never go en pointe. My weaknesses, as long as I am Christie? I will always have less power than Charlie. Also, I doubt I'll ever be able to take a hit like Charlie could. I can improve on that, I guess, but my figure would pay the price, and I kinda like my figure!. All the same, to absorb that kind of punishment I would need a significant increase in my 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?” prodded the old man.
"Not getting hit. I have great balance and agility on top of quickness. I would have to be more like Ricky when as Charlie, I wanted to be more like Donnie. Charlie was a balance of the two styles because he wasn't quick enough to be Ricky, nor powerfully built enough to be like Donnie."
"And there, Jeja is that word again. 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 from Grandfather Kim. Amanda was taken aback by the revelations, but then again, not overly so. She knew that there were many more paths to magic than the one her family followed; she had just never figured crossing someone else’s path. Still, as she thought about what had happened and what they’d learned, everything suddenly did fit together more easily.
Christie continued her progress at the karate school and was ready for her tests in mid-August. She would do the test for the 9th Geup Yellow Stripe belt and then test for her 8th Geup Yellow Belt later in the session. She had her required poomsae down cold for the tests. Heck, she 'knew' them all the way to black belt, but she was still working to re-train her body for the more advanced poomsae. At present, she was just about where she needed to be to perform the poomsae required for the 5th Geup Blue Stripe belt.
She had worked and knew she was doing better, but she still wasn’t happy. Nor should she be, she realized. If she was happy with where she was in her training, she wouldn’t train as hard and she wouldn’t improve as fast as she had. Or as fast as she still wanted to improve.
She'd even started sparring with Wilma, Ricky, Tracy and Young-Soo, which was very strange for a mere white belt with less than two months of formal training 'under her belt'. She also found herself working out with the greens and blues at times. Master Kim or Grandfather Kim would just throw her into one of their classes and tell her to swim or drown. She always drew some rather heated glares and stares from students who felt they were too good to associate with an uncolored belt.
And then there was Tad. He kept hitting on her for a date, and in fact, was getting pushier about it every day. Two years older than Christie and obnoxious in the extreme, there was simply no way she would ever date him. She’d rather eat broken glass and rusty nails. Date Tad?!? No. Simply, emphatically, NO!
Now if she could just figure out a way to drive that through his thick skull!
~-~
As had always been their tradition from their Charlie days, Amanda and Christie showed up together on test day. Christie was scheduled for the 9th Geup and 8th Geup tests. At the end of class yesterday, Grandfather Kim had mentioned, just in passing of course, that she might be called in for the 7th Geup Green Stripe belt test, as well. Amanda had brought her digital camera along for pictures and would also buy a copy of the video that the dojang routinely made of the test day activities.
With all the white belts testing during this test session, the judges would need to break all the candidates up into several groups just to be able to manage them all. Christie would have been bored stiff if she wasn’t rooting her other friends on. When her group was called, she could help make her friends look good by looking good herself. She did. The 9th Yellow Stripe test was short and sweet; there was no sparing and the single required poomsae was simple.
The 8th Geup Yellow test was a little more challenging, but she wasn’t even sweating when she finished her poomse. She even managed several satisfying pops from her dobok on all her techniques. She was just a little proud when she realized she had been the only yellow student who created the pops.
She continued on to the 7th Geup Green Stripe Belt test. This test required her to do some sparring, but she was ready for it. 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 had been a tournament, she would have crushed both of her opponents. The two bouts were four minutes each, with two rounds of two minutes each. When she finally sat down after her second bout, she still wasn’t even breathing hard.
She was not prepared for Grandfather Kim to then call her in for the 6th Geup Green test nor was she the only one surprised. Dutifully she took her place on the mat, the only white belt in a row with seven 7th Geup green stripe belts. This test took a little longer as the green belts had more techniques and poomsae to demonstrate than the earlier tests. She also had three sparring bouts with the other green belts.
Her last bout was against Tad. Grandfather stood in front of her as she shook herself out and whispered, “Balance, Jeja. Balance.”
Tad took his stance across from her and looked at Christie. The damn jerk had this huge lecherous grin on his face as if he couldn't wait to get his hands on her. Christie took up her position and took a final deep, calming breath. From the audience, Amanda looked on with a growing sense of concern. She knew of Tad and his reputation from listening to her daughter often venting about his little tricks and snide remarks. She very much wanted to call an end to this bout but held her tongue. She didn't even cast anything to help her daughter.
But she damn sure wanted to!
Wilma Davis had been serving as the Joo Sim for the Green Belt sparring bouts. As soon as she called out, "Sijak!" Tad came flying across the mat at Christie. He led with a chest-high back punch, looking to hit her square on her boobs. Unfortunately for Tad, he hadn't been paying attention to any of her earlier bouts, or he might have anticipated the textbook front leg round kick that knocked him down. He didn't lay a paw on her.
“Kalyeo!” Wilma shouted.
After polling the judges, her kick scored her two points.
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, but not before 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 leading the bout five to one. She'd scored another point for a ridge hand and then a back fist, while Tad managed an awkward back fist that grazed her headgear. After a one-minute rest break, they were called back to center-mat. Christie could see him twitching, and knew Tad was on the edge of losing control entirely.
When Wilma called, "Sijak!"Tad came in with a bull rush. Christie countered with a maneuver Charlie had learned as a red belt. She started a jump and rotation at the same moment and launched a jump 360 hook kick. Had she connected with malice on that kick, the result would have been a devastating, bone-crushing blow from the heel of her foot, but all she did was extend her toes, landing a very hard slap with the ball of her foot on his cheek. Adding insult to injury, however, she hit him with a round kick that landed on the other cheek before she touched back down. "Kalyeo!"
You could have heard a pin drop in the dojang as Christie dropped into a defensive stance.
Tad didn't wait till the end of their bout and stomped off the mat. He couldn't even beat a girl! A damn girl wearing a damned white belt had just made a laughing stock out of him in front of the entire damned school!! Grabbing his bag from the side of the mat, Tad stormed out of the dojang not even bothering to change out his dobok or put on his shoes.
Christie was saddened not elated as she had every right to be for her effort. She turned to Grandfather Kim and said with tears in her eyes, “I’m really sorry, Grandfather Kim. I was just trying to keep from being hurt. He was losing control.”
“You did nothing wrong, Christie. We have been trying to save that one for a while, and now, it appears he needs to find another path. Nice combo, by the way.”
The rest of the test went smoothly; they had three blues to test, but no red or black belts testing. After the black belts were 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 after that before she was called up to put on a green belt. Only two people failed the test. A fifth green belt (Tad) and a third blue (Grace) had failed to advance. Grace because she had twisted an ankle attempting the jump 360 hook kick early on in her session and had needed to retire.
After all of the students bowed and the black belts had 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.
~-~
Summer was winding down as was the pace of daily activity for the school-age kids attending the two studios. The extra class opportunities set up in June were scaled back to their normal schedules as most of the students had begun thinking seriously about getting ready for the new school year.
In the short three months since Charlie McKellar had become Christie, she had needed to learn a great many new things. Often, she found herself especially grateful for the spells her Mother had cast on her in conjunction with her transformation. A lot of 'modern girl knowledge' had just been there for her when she'd needed it, often saving her from an obvious girl-life faux pas that Charlie wouldn't have seen coming with a telescope. She also thought that magic sometimes helped her learn things related to her new life faster. BUT, and this seemed to be a big 'but', evidently getting ready for school, as a teenage girl, wasn't something she instantly knew everything she might need to know. So when her mom chided her for not having started what SHE considered vital preparations two or three weeks ago, Christie had been somewhat baffled.
Later, when she’d finally asked her mother what she’d meant, the answer made Christie wonder when her training wheels had fallen off.
Amanda’s main concern (Christie thought it was a complaint!) was her daughter’s seeming indifference to acquiring a proper school wardrobe. Christie had initially thought her Mother was yanking her chain. She had a closet FULL of clothes - easily two or three times as many outfits as Charlie ever had - for three school years! When Amanda patiently pointed out that everyone at her school, and by everyone, she meant every girl her age or older, had already seen her in all of those ‘old things’. Christie tried to protest that she’d never been seen in ANY of them before school let out for the summer, and found herself face to face with Amanda’s Mother-Smirk of Doom.
“Think back, darling. What did Christie wear on the last day of school?” Without even thinking, Christie reached into her closet and pulled out a bright yellow sundress decorated with lovely little purple violets trimming the hem of the skirt and the neckline and sleeves of the bodice.
“The bodice won’t fit your new curves dear.”
Reaching into her daughter’s closet, she randomly plucked out a corduroy jumper. “When did Christie wear this last?”
"Oh, that's a cold-weather outfit. I guess I wore it last in Febru. . . ." Christie's voice trailed off and her eyes went wide as she began to grasp her Mother's point.
Nodding, Amanda grinned in victory. "And if YOU remember wearing those things, the girls at your school will have precisely the same memories. That's the way the magic works, but if you want to show up for school wearing year-old, out-of-date styles that will probably be too short and too tight on your lovely figure to pass muster with your principal, I guess that's your decision."
Christie actually caught herself pouting. POUTING! How embarrassing. Finally, she swallowed hard, womaned-up and asked in her sweetest possible voice, “Would you go shopping with me for my school clothes, Mom? Pretty please?”
Sniffing loudly, Amanda just stared her daughter down for a very long few seconds, before sighing loudly. "If I must, I must. It is, after all, a Mother's duty to see to her daughter's training, particularly when her daughter needs it so badly. Why Me? What did I ever do to deserve such a fashion impaired daughter?" She asked in long-suffering and melodramatic tones.
Christie grinned back at her wickedly. "Maybe because you changed a perfectly acceptable and well-adjusted male into your daughter? I mean, if you look at it that way, it's your own fault, and now, you have to pay for it! Literally and figuratively." And then she scooted out of the room with her Mom hot on her heels, both of them giggling like loons.
With her karate class commitments scaled back to only three sessions a week, Christie would be able to dedicate most of the next eight days to learning some of the finer points of being a schoolgirl. As her Mother had observed, the first issue they had to fix was her school wardrobe. Now that Amanda had mentioned clothes being 'too tight', Christie had noticed that her bras were getting kinda tight around her ribs and over her boobs.
She and Amanda purchased a large stack of the latest teen fashion magazines, to research what would be "IN" this year. After discussing it with her Mom, they compiled a list of stores to attack starting with Victoria's Secret.
~-~
Before they embarked on the retail assault, Mother and daughter agreed that a thorough set of measurements would be a necessary starting point. Christie was certain she had grown quite a bit over the summer. For one thing, she had quit the very strict diet she'd adhered to for ballet. She was eating a more sensible diet, and some of the clothes she wore, particularly the figure-hugging ones like her pink Flashdance dress, were beginning to get a wee bit tight.
Christie had been 37-23-34 when she'd emerged in June, but now she was a 39-25½-36. Not only that, but her neck was a half-inch larger, she'd added a half-inch across her biceps, and a quarter of an inch at her wrists. Even her trunk measurement (from the top of one shoulder through her crotch and back to the shoulder) was an inch and a half longer now than it had been. Christie decided it was time to head for the kitchen where her mom had marked her height on the door sill every birthday. Christie was now an inch and three quarters taller than she had been in June, measuring five foot seven and three-quarter inches tall.
Amanda got out her scale, one of the fancy types that measured body fat, retained water and muscle mass, and had Christie step up on it. She got out the little record book she used for such information and entered the new readings. The two women sat down and compared the readings they'd taken in June, July and now August. Christie was eleven pounds heavier than she had been in June, weighing in at one hundred twenty-nine lbs. Her body was retaining two and a half percent more water weight, which wasn't a bad thing given the summer heat, her body fat was up three percent but surprisingly, her muscle mass was a whole six percent higher. In the five weeks since the recital, she had fallen out of dancing form, but she was actually closer to a healthy norm.
Christie still pinched herself to measure fat, the same method Madame Coulter had used to measure her girls and had kept a record of that information in her Mother’s book, too. The two and a half inches she’d gained about her waist concerned her, so she diligently tried to pinch more skin but was relieved when she couldn’t pinch any more than she had at twenty-three inches.
"I don't know what to tell you, Christie," Amanda said, after probing her daughter's waist,
"It sure feels like solid muscle mass to me. In fact, it feels more solid now than it did back when you danced. Anymore solid and you'd be sporting a six-pack which isn't attractive on most girls. You are not getting fat. I think you may have found where a chunk of the six percent increase in muscle mass resides."
“I just don’t want to get fat,” Christie grumbled.
“As much as you like to exercise? Darling, that is NOT going to happen. It’s just that, for the first time since Christie started ballet eight years ago, you are now eating like a normal teenage girl who doesn’t want to get fat. Looking at you, except for your bust, you are still leaner than average. Look at me. Am I fat?”
“Heck 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 just told me that I am not fat, right?”
“You have a great bod, Mom.”
“So, 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. Well, if you remain a girl, that is.”
“I had almost forgotten about that possibility.”
“That is because you are adapting to your situation, baby. You won’t forget when the time comes for you to choose. Not to mention, I wouldn’t let you forget.”
“I don’t know Mom. There are things I really like about being a girl and at the same time, there are things I really miss being Charlie. It’s a lot to get my head wrapped around.”
“I know, baby, just remember that whatever you choose, you’re still the most important person in the world to me. Now, let’s look at a clothing chart and figure out our sizes. I feel like getting some new clothes too.”
"Can't you just zap the clothes to fit?" Christie asked, curious about what limitations if any, were on her Mother's unique abilities.
“Now, that would just take a whole lot of fun out of being a girl! Besides magic is too important to use so trivially. Maybe if you went skinny dipping and someone stole your clothes? That would be different. Casting a spell that would make the thieves suddenly fit into the clothes they stole? That would be justice, but don’t do it. That’ll open a whole different can of worms because magic always seeks balance. What gets changed in one place might appear elsewhere. You might prevent rain on somebody’s wedding day, and cause a flood somewhere else. Revenge can kill two is another saying we have because it will often boomerang on the caster. You will learn over time that there are times for bold magic, but many more times when no magic or a very subtle application is the better course.”
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.
******************************************************************
Character Summary
Charlie McKellar- 16 year old 1st Geup red belt with black stripe Taekwondo student; teaches the kids under fifteen classes; becomes Christie McKellar, Ballet student
Amanda McKellar- sorceress mother of Charlie/Christie
Kim Young-Soo - 38 year old 5th Dan black belt World Taekwondo Federation (WTF); owner of Young-Soo Karate
Master Kim - Kim Young-Min - 60-year-old Father of Young-Soo; 10th Dan black belt WTF
‘Grandfather Kim’ - Kim Young-Ja- 89-year-old 10th Dan black belt WTF; Grandfather of Young-Soo; Moved from Pyongyang to Seoul in May 1949 before the start of the Korean conflict. Taught Karate to Republic of Korea (ROK) Army from 1950 till 1962. Emigrated to the US in 1969. Rarely teaches karate anymore but is still a fixture at the dojang.
Donnie Colt - 18 year old African American 1st Geup red belt with black stripe; friend and main adversary of Charlie; also Studies Ju-Jitsu and Muay-Thai with hopes of getting into professional 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 main competitor of Christie McKellar for soloist roles; your average no-good, spoiled rotten, high school diva.
Valerie Stevens - 6th Geup green belt; 17 years old; Charlie’s would-be girlfriend; Christie’s BFF, and maybe more
Robert ‘Tad’ Green - 6th Geup green belt; not a good guy; likes hitting opponents too hard during sparring; hates Charlie and Donnie with a passion
Cindy Pettis - 12 year old ballet student. A shy timid girl overwhelmed by Madame Coulter. Later joins dojang.
Wilma Davis - 20 year old 1st Dan Black Belt WTF; Teaches most of the green, blue, red belt and all adult classes; A svelte, wiry, tenacious opponent who gives to Charlie and Donny as good as she gets.
Tracy Wilcox - 22 year old, 1st Dan Black Belt WTF. Teaches classes with Wilma and heads up dojang’s recruitment program for girls; Donnie Colt’s girlfriend.
Ricky Summers - 13 year old junior (1st Poom) black belt; excellent on standard forms (Poomsae) and just fair in sparring
Appendix A
Taekwondo Belt Ranking Used in Mind, Body and Spirit
Belt Color (Rank Designation) Belt Picture Belt and Rank Metaphors
White Belt (10th Geup) Blankness, lack of knowledge, a beginning.
Yellow Stripe (9th Geup) A middle phase between a total beginner and yellow belt. A white belt with yellow stripes on the ends.
Yellow Belt (8th Geup) A seed is planted.
Green stripe (7th Geup) Middle phase between yellow and green. A yellow belt with a
green stripe on the ends.
Green Belt (6th Geup) A planted seed starts to grow and mature.
Blue Stripe (5th Geup) Middle phase between the green belt and the blue belt. A green belt with blue stripes at the ends.
Blue Belt (4th Geup) The sky the grown plant aspires to reach.
Red Stripe (3rd Geup) Middle Phase between blue belt and red belt. A blue belt with red stripes at the ends.
Red Belt (2nd Geup) Red is the color of blood, a warning about the dangers of the skill.
Black Stripe (1st Geup) Middle phase between red belt and black belt.
Black belt (1st Dan): The student is has mastered the fundamentals of Taekwondo and is now ready to learn.
Mind, Body and Spirit Redux, Part 2
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Continued by Paula Dillon and Tigger
Part 2 - Christie's First Day at School
Christie stopped before starting up the walkway leading to the Dolley Todd Madison High School entrance. Christie realized she'd never really considered that her school's name honored a woman. Most district schools had manly names like George S. Patton Middle School, although several buildings reflected the school's location, like Hidden Lake Elementary School. Charlie had always thought of this place as 'my school' or simply as DHS. Just another tiny discovery that smacked her in the face due to the awareness she'd changed teams.
Discoveries that had seemed to keep coming at her faster and faster lately. So much so that Christie wondered if at least one of her magical 'training wheels' had fallen off somewhere. Every day had more 'girl-stuff' turning up unexpectedly, making her life more 'interesting.' Maybe Confucius had experienced a gender swap when he'd come up with his 'May you be cursed to live in interesting times' quotation. Maybe her new life wasn't quite a curse, but it often seemed darned overwhelming.
Charlie had had it easy!
Oh god, she thought, she was actually jealous of herself . . .himself . . .whatever!
For example, just this morning, she'd gotten up, showered and then gone about getting ready to face her first day at school. Easy peasy, right? Or so she'd thought. Evidently, her selection of comfortable jeans, a pullover and tennie-runners, which she'd carefully laid out on her bed before showering, had received a failing 'girl-grade' from her Mother. Upon returning from the bathroom, she'd found that her perfectly suitable 'Charlie ensemble' was replaced by a knee-length denim skirt, a camisole, a button-down blouse and the new Mary-Janes with the one-inch heel. Oh, and there was a little sticky note on top reminding her she needed to put on her makeup so Mom could make sure it wasn't 'too much' for school.
Yeah, right, Mom. Of course, that was to make sure that Christie actually wore some - which had NOT been her intention. Christie's cosmetic artistry had only required three attempts to pass Mom's inspection. Well, at least she knew how much more HER' unsubtle' application passed for 'subtle enough for school' in Mom's eye. Charlie always heard girls at school complaining that their mothers wouldn't let them wear enough makeup. How had Christie gotten so 'lucky'?
That probably wasn't even one of those trial lessons the magic required her to learn, either. Just a nice 'teachable moment' for Mom. Nor had it been the last one for this morning. Oh, no! Mom had asked if she had tampons and other 'supplies' in her purse and had been very unhappy with her daughter's "What purse?" answer. Evidently, a book bag was insufficient accessorizing for the modern female high school junior, especially on her FIRST school day. Surrendering, Christie had run back upstairs and grabbed a small shoulder bag, one small enough to fit easily in her book bag the first chance she got!
Mom had inspected the purse for necessities, of course. Wallet, makeup, and hairbrush were there; tampons weren't. "But Mom, I just finished my period last Friday," was another losing argument. Evidently, girls sometimes needed supplies from the well-prepared girls, and Amanda insisted that Christie would be one of the prepared girls whether she wanted to be or not.
So, here she was, rigged out in a lovely skirt and Maryjanes, carrying her purse and her bookbag, and staring up at the strangely imposing edifice of Dolley Madison High School. Charlie had not felt this unsettled two years ago when arriving as a ninth-grader. Of course, Charlie liked school and looked forward to high school. Moreover, since almost everyone knew not to mess with him, he hadn't suffered from freshman anxiety - just a different building - same routine, same crowd, same bathrooms.
Now? Only the building was the same. Everything else, including Christie herself, wasn't the same, and while she had Christie's magical memories of attending this school as a girl, she didn't have the experiences.
"Hey, Christie," a cheerful, feminine voice called out. Turning, Christie smiled to see Valerie Stevens hurrying up the walk toward her. "Trying to put off the end of summer vacation just a few more moments?"
Christie laughed and shook her head. "No, not really. It just hit me that our school is the only one in our district named after a woman. I had to stop and think about that for a moment. How are you doing? Haven't seen you since the August belt tests at the dojang.
"Yeah," Valerie replied. "Both sets of grands retired to Florida, so we made the grand tour; Grandparents, beaches, Disney World, grandparents, Universal Studios, oh, and did I mention beaches?"
Giggling over Val's trip description, the pair walked up to the entrance and went inside. Christie took the opportunity to search her memories more closely as they walked. Valerie had been high on Charlie's potential girlfriend list, especially after that deal with the cake at his birthday party. She was darn cute, friendly and very sharp academically. Val was also a pretty good Taekwondo student, having earned her Sixth Geup Green Belt late last spring. The Valerie that Christie knew was evidently still all that, but she and Christie were girlfriends, bordering on BFFs instead of dating.
And wonder of wonders, they had the same homeroom this year! Maybe the magic had arranged for a personal in-school girl guide for her. She'd probably need that at some point in the coming weeks. They took seats in their homeroom, and Christie pulled out her class schedule. Fortunately, none of her core courses had changed; she still had all her Advanced Placement and Honors Courses. There was one significant change, however. Instead of Physical Education, she would be taking a course in Women's Health in the first semester.
Charlie hadn't even known such a course existed, but Christie figured it was fortuitous. She didn't exactly trust her' training wheels' all that much, and knowledge was power. It wasn't as if she needed a PE Class. Charlie had been almost as bored during PE as in economics and government. One of the female PE teachers would teach the course with assistance from the school nurse. Christie was looking forward to 'catching up' with her female peers on all these female health and body mysteries.
The final bell sounded, and the Principal's voice rang out over the school's loudspeakers. "Good Morning, Cavaliers! And welcome to another year of adventure and learning at Dolley Todd Madison High School!"
And so, Christie's first day as a high school coed began.
~-~
Home from School with Mom
Since Monday wasn't a dojang day, Christie had gone home after school, donned one of her running outfits, and went off for a quick five-mile run. Her Mother had vetoed a before-school run this morning, saying that she had to learn how to get ready and how long that took as a girl. It had been a good call, but now, Christie was antsy and needed to feel the burn. She was, after all, a highly trained athlete and her body needed the endorphin release of a good workout.
After her run and a quick shower, Christie put some chicken in to marinate and chopped vegetables for a stir fry before going out back to work on her 'secret project.' It wasn't really a secret, she admitted. The truth was that she was just a little embarrassed and didn't care to share what she was doing with anyone for the time being.
Before THE change, Charlie had been a highly accomplished First Geup Red Belt who was mere days from testing for and, in all likelihood achieving his first Black Belt. Now, Christie was Seventh Geup Green and faced at least two years of required training, as a minimum, before she'd be allowed to test for the same darned belt Charlie had worn barely three months ago. It was galling. She had all Charlie's knowledge - that hadn't gone away - but she lacked the muscle memory and body hardening developed over eight years of intense training. Her brain knew what her body 'had to do,' but her body didn't know how to get there.
Even poomsae! She still knew the steps and could visualize the positions. However, performing one of those intricate standard forms was like trying to follow one of those old 'do-it-yourself Arthur Murray dance courses' with all the steps printed out on the floor in front of her. Christie was an excellent dancer, but she couldn't flow into the transition moves or explode into ones that should have made her dobok snap or pop.
Growling determinedly, Christie started the movements of the Koryo Poomse, the one Charlie had done with Donnie a lifetime ago. She would do it, step by bloody step, repeatedly until SHE could do it as well as CHARLIE had!
An hour later, Amanda arrived home from work expecting dinner. Finding none, she'd set about looking for her erring daughter. Coming to the back patio, she came to an abrupt halt before silently watching her obviously frustrated daughter struggle to perform movements that had been second nature to her son. Christie would repeatedly stop, mumbling to herself, and then repeat the action.
On impulse, Amanda fished her smartphone out of her bag and began recording a video of the scene playing out in her backyard. After about five minutes, she decided she had seen enough and put her phone back in her purse. Then she coughed, startling the intensely focused girl who spun instantly about, coming instinctively into a defensive posture.
"Mom, you're home early," Christie managed to blurt out as she tried to relax her pose casually.
"No, actually, I'm a little late. I thought you were going to fix dinner?"
Surprised, Christie looked at her wristwatch and blushed. "I, umm, didn't hear my watch alarm. I've finished all the prep work, but the chicken might be a little over-marinated."
"I see," Amanda replied with a knowing smile. "Well, why don't I finish putting dinner together while you clean up and set the table? I want to hear all about Christie's First Day at school," and quickly shooed her daughter off to her bedroom.
~-~
The chicken had a bit more bite to it than usual but was still tasty with all the colorful vegetables to spread the spicing out. Amanda let Christie take care of her immediate hunger before beginning her gentle, if thorough, motherly interrogation.
"Well, on the plus side," Christie said with a cheeky grin, "I don't have to write any 'What I did on my summer vacation" essays, although it is only the first day. Check with me after the first week is over on that one because if I don't have it to do, it'll be the first time since third grade. I didn't try to use the boys' restroom, and I didn't punch any of my girlfriends in the arm and call them 'dude.' I'd say I had a pretty successful day by those standards."
"That's setting the bar a little low, don't you think?" Mom asked, going with the light tone Christie had used. "Okay, we'll do this the old-fashioned way and pry things out of you. Please don't make me get out the pliers, girl. Meet any old acquaintances? Meet anybody new?"
Christie considered this and nodded. "Sure. For the most part, I'm in the same gifted and talented grouping as Charlie was last year, so most of the same kids are there. I am having a bit of trouble just yet resolving my Charlie memories of some of them from my Christie memories. Mostly minor stuff revolving around how sex and gender affect relationships. On the plus side, Valerie is in the same homeroom as me, and Christie remembers her as a very good and maybe best girlfriend. That will help, I think."
Amanda looked quizzically at her daughter. "Valerie? Do I know this Valerie?"
"Well, of course you do, oh powerful sorceress of the house. Just look into your Christie memories," Christie snarked at her Mom. "Actually, that may not work because Christie was in ballet, and Valerie was just starting Taekwondo, so we didn't hang too much outside of school. Anyway, do you remember that cute blonde girl who hand-fed Charlie his cake when he was in bondage at his birthday party? We hung out more together this summer after I left Madame. She's a belt senior to me at the dojang, so we'll see quite of bit of each other. Likely have to spar with her regularly, too."
"Well," Amanda huffed. She did, in fact, remember the cake scene along with her motherly recognition that the girl had definitely sparked Charlie's interest with that bit of sass. "If that isn't the strangest foundation for two BFFs I've ever heard." Shaking her head in chagrin, she smiled at her daughter. "You are always a joy and a surprise to me, kiddo. So, meet anyone completely new?"
"New to Charlie, anyway. Coach Wilson is teaching that course in Women's Health Issues that got magically added to my schedule. Female Coach Wilson, who normally teaches girls PE. That women's health class is gonna be strange, though. I skimmed the textbook they handed out? Some of that stuff is just yucky!" Christie gave a mock shudder. "Oh, and Coach Wilson is also the Dance/Competition Cheer Team coach. Since 'one of her girls' told her I wasn't dancing ballet anymore, she wants me to try out for her team. Now that I 'have the time.' Grrr! Like my training at the dojang isn't as much of a time commitment as dancing at the ballet studio."
Amanda didn't reply as she recognized it was just venting. She really wanted to discuss what she'd seen on the patio earlier that evening, but something about Christie's reaction to the Dance Coach's offer gave her pause. That had clearly stressed Christie enough that she had vented about it to her Mother. That was very out of character behavior for her child, for both of them, actually.
Amanda decided she needed to keep an even closer eye on her daughter's progress for now and see where that went. In the meantime, she made a mental note to talk to Grandfather Kim about Christie. Since he was already aware of their situation, he was another set of eyes. In just the few short months since Charlie's transformation, Christie's challenges thus far were definitely more stressful than had Amanda's own, or from what her Mother had told her about her experiences.
"Well, you skipped out on fixing dinner as you promised, so you get to do the dishes. Any homework?"
"Just some reading for the AP History and the Health course."
"Okay, off you go, then. When you finish that, make sure you cleanse and moisturize. I'll be in to check on you as I plan on an early night, too." Along with a bit of scrying, she didn't say out loud. "I'll be in my office finishing up some briefs for the partners."
After sharing a quick hug and kiss, Christie began gathering the tableware for cleaning.
to be continued
Mind, Body and Spirit Redux, Part 3
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Part 3 - The Mentors Meet
Amanda parked her car along the street near the Kim's dojang. In truth, she was feeling just a little guilty about this. Today was Wednesday, and she'd specifically chosen today because Christie didn't have class here today. Amanda was trying to avoid making Christie aware of her concerns until she was sure that her daughter needed to know about them. All the same, she felt like she was sneaking around behind her daughter's back.
Okay, Amanda grumbled silently to herself; this felt like a betrayal. Deal with it, Amanda, she told herself. Sometimes it just sucks to a grownup and a Mom, but that was just part of the job. Christie had enough to deal with right now without adding what might not even be a real problem to the mix. Dammit, woman, you're a Mom and Moms worry so the kids don't have to! Deal with it.
Entering the small lobby area, Amanda sat on one of the benches, slipped off her shoes and put on some athletic socks she'd thought to bring. She still remembered the hurt look on eight-year-old Charlie's face when she had entered the school's main studio in her work heels. And she hadn't even known the rule then, but she by gosh knew it now! No shoes in the dojang. And she realized her attention on that small courtesy was just another reaction to her going behind Christie's back with this visit.
Peaking inside the main arena area, she saw a small group of red and black belts working under Master Kim's watchful eye. Grandfather Kim, the patriarch of the Kim family, was standing off to one side, observing the class, when he saw Amanda. With a smile on his face, he unhurriedly went to greet her. "Ah, Mrs. McKellar, right on time. Come, we will go to my office. We will have tea and then discuss whatever you wish to talk with me about."
"Thank you, Mr. Kim. I really appreciate you meeting me like this . . ." Amanda started as she followed his lead to the door off to one side of the room.
"You indicated you have concerns about Christie. She and Charlie are both favorite students of mine and my family. Of course, my family will do anything we can do to help Christie. Please, have a seat, and you can tell me what it is that has a loving mother so concerned."
Amanda felt herself blushing at his observation. "Well, so much for my vaunted poker face. I'm usually not so easy to read."
"I suspect that ordinarily, you are not, but you are dealing with a challenging situation and I must admit that I do possess a fairly strong empathic gift."
"You also are aware of magic, Mr. Kim. Perhaps you even possess some magical gifts of your own, as well. You know that Charlie has become Christie, too. Given all that, and what I saw Monday when I got home from work, makes you my best source for advice." Taking her phone from her purse, Amanda called up the video she'd taken of Christie practicing her forms and held it out to Grandfather. "If you would watch this video and then tell me what you see and think, Mr . . ."
"Please, call me Grandfather, or perhaps, Papa Kim. With so many Kims around here, saying 'Mister' Kim will likely get you at least three answers. It is what the students call me. My son is 'Master Kim,' and my grandson is usually just Young-Soo or Soo. Now, let me see."
Amanda tried to sit quietly as the old gentleman focused on her phone. She watched as he quickly called up the play controls on her phone and began starting and stopping the playback, sometimes rewinding to watch some sequences multiple times. While he watched, his face revealed very little, at least to her eye, but in all, it took him almost twenty minutes to work his way through the bare five minutes of video. Looking up from the phone, he met her eyes directly and said, "Quite remarkable, and perhaps, a little sad."
Disconcerted by his pronouncement, Amanda pressed for more detail. "Remarkable and sad? How, Papa?"
Moving over to sit closer to his guest, Papa Kim fiddled with her phone before holding it where they could both watch. Amanda saw that he had queued it to a spot midway in the vid, one in which Christie's frustration was particularly evident. "Look here, Mrs. McKellar, see how she moves into a pose and then stops abruptly? Now, watch as she assumes the pose she was trying to achieve in the poomse. If she had done that as part of the poomse, it would have been excellent, nearly perfect, in fact. But here is what it looked like when she tried to achieve it as part of the standard form." He backed up the video and showed Christie's position just before she'd stopped in disgust.
"There are similar sequences in the video, but that is the most easily seen. Jeja Christie's mind knows what her body should do. We can see that when she simply assumes the position. That is years of training the mind. Charlie was very advanced for his age. In truth, his black belt was a foregone conclusion a year ago, and only the mandatory training time required by the Federation stopped me from awarding it then. However, Charlie had eight years of intense, repetitive physical training that Christie lacks. Her body does not 'know how to achieve the correct position during the form. At the same time, her dancer's kinesthetic sense tells her final positions are wrong, so she stops and tries to correct herself, to 'teach her body' where she wants it to be."
"Almost like a dancer practicing positions at the barre? Like she was in a ballet studio?"
"From what little I understand about dance training, I believe that is a good comparison. I also believe that Christie's dance training and body awareness tell her she's not performing the poomse correctly."
Amanda closed her eyes momentarily and tried not to cry. "I just don't understand, Papa. Historically, Christie's trial is not uncommon in my family line; that is, one of us changing gender has happened any number of times. Both my Mother and I had to deal with it. For the most part, our biggest challenge was adjusting to school and life as the other sex, and, after a couple of months, that stopped being an issue. Christie has had almost four months, and she's still struggling. My powers had already started to emerge at the four-month point in my trial. However, I've seen no sign that my daughter is developing powers. Nothing! Maybe she was supposed to stay in the dance class."
"I don't know about your magic or your trials, but I do know that Christie was completely honorable in her actions and, I think, justified. She even returned to ensure that the show went on, not for herself, but for the other students."
"I know," Amanda replied softly. "I talked to the other mothers whose girls followed Christie to your school. That woman has absolutely no notion of how to teach children. How many promising students have just given up rather than deal with her constant negative reinforcement? You tell a child that they are not any good at something often enough, they'll believe you and go look for something else more rewarding to do." She shook her head at another thought. "I was so happy when the augury showed Christie in dance class instead of martial arts. I always loved dance, but I grew too tall and curvy too quickly. Seeing Christie dancing? Remembering her performances and exhibitions? I found that thrilling, but that's on me, not her."
Grandfather Kim smiled gently. "I will tell you a little secret, Mrs. McKellar, your child has always been a dancer, even when he was Charlie."
"Please, Papa, call me Amanda. But I have to say that I never saw Charlie dance in his entire life."
"Charlie was always an excellent jeja, that is, excellent student; athletic, coachable, intense and determined to excel. However, a few years ago, he had a little stumble when we trained him for one of the mid-level belts. The standard forms? The Poomsae? These must be performed precisely and to a standard cadence. Missteps and imprecise postures are causes for deductions. Too many deductions and the form does not meet the criteria to earn the belt. Charlie went through a phase where he started . . . improvising, shall we say? A little finger flourish here, a slightly elongated thrust there, a pose held a beat or two longer than is specified in the standard. In short, Amanda, Charlie was dancing, very elegantly, too, but we couldn't let him get away with it, and he missed two testing cycles before he got it under control."
"I never knew that. My son certainly never complained to me about it."
"He wouldn't, now would he? The fault was his, he knew it, and he fixed it. It simply took him a while to bring his inclination under control because his nature and instinct was to dance."
"Exactly how bad was it? I mean, what Christie was trying to do on that video?"
Grandfather sighed. "That is a very advanced poomse, one we do not even consider teaching students until they are much further along in their training. Typically we don't begin that training phase until they are almost ready to test for their first red belt. There are movements required in that exercise that require careful development of the student's body. The Koryo Poomse demands a high degree of muscle, tendon and ligament flexibility. Christie came to us in superb physical condition. Her body was already sublimely flexible thanks to her years of studying ballet, but for all that, she was not physically prepared for that poomse. The places where she was having trouble and becoming frustrated? Those movements are of that type - unique to martial arts and not something her training regimen at Madame Coulter's ballet school would have prepared her to accomplish. I will have to speak with her; get her to ease off on those particular movements. Otherwise, she might injure herself. It was very wise of you to bring this to my attention."
Amanda felt a sensation of utter peace descend on her on hearing that from Papa Kim. Perhaps that was the hidden reason she'd felt driven to reach out to the eldest Kim. All she'd known was that her child was unhappy and frustrated; Papa Kim had recognized the real problem, and he had the credibility with her daughter to resolve the issue. "I suddenly feel so much better about that. Now, if I could just figure out why the rest of her trial seems stalled, neither Mom nor I can recall having this much trouble."
"As I said earlier, I do not know anything about the challenges you and your mother faced when it was your time. I might offer this observation based on what you've told me and what I know about Charlie and now Christie. I may be wrong, but it seems to me that you and your mother simply had to acclimate to your new stations and then carry on with what was, at that time, normal teenage life experiences. Certainly, learning how to function as a member of the opposite team was likely quite stressful, but did you really lose anything you considered integral to your self or self-image? I suspect not."
"Well, I badly missed sewing and needlecraft," Amanda replied thoughtfully.
"And if those things had truly been central to your emotional and mental well-being, you could have still pursued them in the privacy of your own space, away from spying eyes. Ah, and from the look on your face, that is what you did, correct?" Amanda nodded, and Papa continued. "Christie has lost eight years of effort, discipline and physical preparation. Moreover, the way the Federation is currently overseeing the advancement of students, Christie is two, perhaps even three years away from achieving the same belt level that Charlie held only three months ago. And she will need most of that time to recondition. . . or is it just to condition as in the first time, her body for the demands of that advancement. That is a significant obstacle and one that only a powerful and disciplined personality could hope to overcome. Christie is still a young person and, I suspect, is struggling with that realization herself. Once she has, and I have every confidence in that determined young lady, she will begin to acclimate as you and your mother did."
"Ah, Lord. She could have stayed in dance, but realistically, that probably would have become a dead-end for her, too. She's grown almost two inches over the summer and has begun to fill out her curves. Takes after her mom there, I guess."
"Too tall and curvy for ballet?" At Amanda's rueful agreement, Papa nodded. "So, in all likelihood, had Christie continued in ballet, her growth spurt would have limited her options there. She would have needed to find something else to take its place; another type of dance, martial arts or other activity. Whatever she decided to do, she was still starting all over, using her ballet experience to help her adapt to that new vocation."
"I never thought of it like that," Amanda breathed, her eyes wide. "Perhaps her trial lessons started when her most obvious path closed? I will have to think hard about that. Well, Papa, I need to get home and talk with my daughter. I haven't told her yet about my concerns because I felt I needed your expertise to make sure I wasn't blowing everything out of proportion. I don't usually keep secrets from her, and I want her to hear about our little visit from me before you talk to her."
"I understand, Amanda. Here is my card with my home and mobile phone numbers. Perhaps you could send me that video file so that when I talk to her, I will have it to go over with her."
Amanda pulled out her phone and quickly sent the requested file. "There. You should have it in a few moments. I have to run since it is her night to cook dinner and she failed in that duty the night of the frustration poomse."
"Drive safely. I will talk to her after Saturday's class unless she asks me about it during tomorrow's session. Let me know if there is anything I can do to help you and Christie. I am very fond of her."
Amanda started to rise but stopped when Papa raised his hand. "Mrs. McKellar, Amanda," he began slowly, "You mentioned that you were concerned about not seeing Christie's abilities start to emerge yet. Do you recall her final bout on the testing day back in August?"
Slipping back into her seat, Amanda nodded. "I was terrified at the time because neither Christie nor Charlie ever had anything good to say about him - just the opposite. And he was so much bigger than she was."
Nodding his head thoughtfully, Papa Kim said, "The move she used at the very end of the bout? It was actually a combination of moves. That combination of a jumping 360-degree hook kick followed by a roundhouse kick is very advanced. Those are techniques we teach to red belt students. Combining them, as Christie did, is very difficult. Honestly, I cannot remember Charlie ever using that combination except in practice. Like the Koryo Poomse, that combination should have been well beyond Christie's current level of physical preparation."
"And that means what, Papa?"
"Just that your child has always been a very physical individual. I would hazard to guess that she may have somehow focused her nascent powers to enhance her physical abilities at that very stressful instant. I suggest you start watching for signs that she is developing any athletic traits or abilities faster than normal. And we will monitor her development here at the dojang, as well."
Amanda sat and thought for a few moments before replying, "Now that you mention it, I believe there were instances in our family records when such enhancements occurred. . ."
"Perhaps you should take another, closer look before talking with your daughter?" Papa Kim asked, smiling gently.
Momentarily overwhelmed, Amanda jumped over to hug and kiss the older man before waving goodbye and hurrying out of the dojang to her car. She was so focused on getting home and reviewing the family records she almost forgot to stop and put her shoes back on first. Almost.
Mind, Body and Spirit Redux, Part 4
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Continued by Paula Dillon and Tigger
Part 4 - After School Interlude with Mom
The Friday rush hour traffic home was worse than usual, but Amanda didn't mind. Going nowhere slowly meant she had time to continue pondering just what she should do with her current problems. Or maybe it would be better to say 'consider what she should do with her current challenges' since they all seemed to revolve around her daughter. Yes, 'challenges' were better. Christie was definitely a challenge, but she was NOT a problem. Never that.
The possibility that Charlie might have to experience a mandatory gender transformation was something she had known about and been thinking about since before her son's birth. What's more, in what she could only now consider colossal arrogance on her part, she'd THOUGHT she was well prepared to deal with the eventuality. After all, Amanda had been through it, hadn't she? Darned right she had, and she'd handled all that male 'fitting in' nonsense just fine. Heavens, her Mom had taken to her transformation so well she'd decided to live the rest of her life as a female!
Oh yes, but Amanda and her Mom had been stupidly arrogant and had been absolutely blindsided when Christie's first four months as a girl had been nothing remotely close to what they had been prepared for or expected. Nothing!
Boy-girl issues from the female perspective? Not for HER girl! For one thing, Christie didn't have much contact with boys outside of the dojang, where the Kims kept the boys pretty much in line. Except for that damned Tad troll; he'd gotten his sorry ass kicked by her girl!
Girlfriends and girl pack dynamics? Christie didn't care about them and was relatively insulated from most social issues typically affecting young women. Almost every girl she interacted with was a Taekwondo student, too. They knew the rules and abided in the etiquette of the dojang. Nasty girls, like the snotty cliques that ran in most high schools? Oh, now that was a scary thought! Amanda did not even want to THINK about how Christie might deal with them. She wouldn't understand or care about the 'normal hierarchy and rules' that let those girls get away with their crap. No, not at all. Christie would likely just make up her own rules for dealing with them. Probably quite harshly.
Body issues? As if Christie could care - at all - if some other girl's boobs were perkier than hers and if another girl had better legs. Not that any of that crap mattered - Christie was darned attractive with a beautifully toned body, but Christie. Simply. Didn't. Care. Christie had only two real issues with her body. Periods, and she was the only girl alive who kept two calendars. One to track her cycle and another to count down the months till CHARLIE wouldn't have to deal with Aunt Flo anymore. Her other body issue was that hers couldn't yet do what her mind knew how to do.
That problem was another one that would resolve itself when she completed her trial, but that posed another, more interesting question. Would Charlie be a 1st Dan black belt getting ready for his 2nd Dan test, or would he still be a, what was it called? Oh yes! A 1st Geup Red Belt preparing for his black belt test. Amanda suspected the latter just because nothing else had favored her girl so far in this experience.
Well, at least Christie liked fashionable clothes, and she didn't mind shopping - too much - so some of those Mother-daughter experiences Amanda had often daydreamed of over the last 16 years were coming to pass. Amanda relished her girl-time with her daughter and was honest enough to admit she'd miss those times when Charlie returned. Ah, such was the way of life in a sorcerer's family.
Charlie's return was something she expected would happen, if not on this upcoming birthday, then certainly on the one the year after this one. According to their family's lore regarding such trials, that was the usual pattern. Initially, there was an acclimation period when teens got used to their new gender and place in society. These usually lasted for one to two months or three months on the outside. If Grandfather Kim's observation that Christie's trial dealt more with adjusting to losing something fundamental to her self-image.
WAIT A MINUTE! Amanda's mind flashed in a sudden epiphany. Maybe that was the key, Amanda realized. For most kids, gender was that type of fundamental identity issue, and dealing with that change was the first challenge of their trial. For Christie? Her problem had been losing eight years of focused, dedicated training, as both Charlie and Christie! That was what challenged her! Amanda's child - male or female - had never cared about the social aspects of school or any other environment. At least, not so long as she'd been able to dance or kick ass!
So, if Amanda accepted Papa Kim's observation about Christie's unique challenge, her daughter had acclimated in mere weeks, as demonstrated when she'd dropped Madame Renee Coulter like a bad habit. Then? She'd just moved on to finding her new niche, or in her case, back into the martial arts. That still stung a bit, Amanda admitted. Just like Mrs. Pettis, Amanda had liked the idea of a ballerina in the family. Well, at least for however long she had a daughter in her family to be a ballerina.
The second key event in a young transformed sorcerer-to-be's development would be those first tiny flashes of magic, which usually popped up towards the acclimation period's completion. Amanda's more significant problem was if Grandfather Kim's other observation was correct. If Christie's final sparring moves against Tad were somehow magically enhanced, Amanda had no idea how to train Christie to use that power. Heck, she didn't even know what she would see from her daughter in that case! Historically, her family's first sparks of energy were sparks of emergent fire magic. Both Amanda's and Rebekah's first manifestations were fire magic, and they'd been waiting to see the same thing from Christie. Oops, again there, Moms, Amanda thought ruefully.
So, here she was, stuck in a miserable traffic jam with her mind racing about like a rat in a maze, trying to decide just what to do next and what would be best for her daughter.
Okay, she growled inwardly. Their first priority has to be dealing with those advanced Taekwondo forms. Regardless of whether she was using her nascent power to do them or not, Grandfather said he didn't think Christie was physically ready for them and might injure herself trying them. Thankfully, she had Papa's offer to talk it over with her daughter so Amanda would not have to come off as being an unreasonable Mother. Christie was the Kims' eager student, and she would accept their counsel on any matters related to the martial arts and safety.
On the other hand, how would Amanda address the possibility that Christie was using her nascent sorcery to enhance herself physically? There were two similar cases reported in their family's records. Sadly, neither entry had included anything about how to develop those powers safely. Furthermore, there had only been one possible display of this emerging power; whether or not to start her daughter's sorcery training or not remained a question. If that flying kick combination against Tad-troll hadn't been power-enhanced, they still had no evidence that Christie's power had begun to emerge. If she didn't have any ability yet, there wasn't anything to train her with or on. Frustrating.
Just then, the traffic slug began to move more quickly, requiring Amanda's attention to return to the task of getting home in one piece. For now, the best path would be for the Kims and McKellars to stay on the course already set. The Kims would keep a closer eye out for unusual abilities in the dojang. At the same time, Rebekah and Amanda would remain on the lookout for other more traditional indicators of emerging magic. Until they had a solid indication of actual power, the training decisions could and probably should wait.
Amanda relaxed just a bit as she took the exit for her subdivision. At least she had a plan now. She'd just have to stay vigilant and be ready to respond as her child's very atypical trial progressed.
~-~
Amanda decided to park in the driveway just in case something came up before bed. Inside her house, Amanda sniffed appreciatively at the homey aroma of tomatoes, onions, garlic and spices wafting in from the kitchen. Christie must have been experimenting again, and whatever this was smelled great! Unlike a few earlier attempts.
She shed her light jacket, purse, briefcase and - oh, thank you, god - her high-heeled shoes in the foyer before padding off in search of Christie. Amanda was just about to walk into the family room when she picked up what sounded like angry mutterings inside the room. Peaking around the corner, she came upon a scene her memory told her she'd seen often in the past but, in truth, was seeing for the very first time.
PICTURE: Christie Reading in the McKellar Family Room
In the center of the family room floor, in a full ballet split, sat Christie leaning over on her elbows, poring over a book. And not entirely happy with what she was reading if the imprecations coming from her daughter were any indication.
"Damn, that sucks. 'Anyone fighting on campus will be subject to suspension - period.' Even if you were only defending yourself, Mom would probably have a damned cow if I got suspended.
"Damn bitches know that, too! One of the reasons they run in packs. Well, there's always off-campus if it comes to that.
"I wonder if a pain-compliant restraint hold would be allowed? 'Just escorting her to the office, Mrs. Davis. Oops, did I just break the conniving little snot's arm? Guess she needs more calcium in her diet.' It probably wouldn't be allowed, either.
"Damn it. I don't want to have to stalk those bitches' sorry asses to make my points! I just want to be left the hell alone!"
"Well," Amanda called out sharply from the room entrance, trying not to laugh. "I guess my concerns about your fitting in with the high school female social structure were not entirely groundless. What are you reading so angrily and why, Christie?"
Christie sprung from her split, coming quickly to her feet. "Mom!!" she yelped, "Umm, hi. I didn't hear you come in. Oh, My, look at the time! I need to run and check my soup!"
"NOT SO FAST, YOUNG LADY!" The 'Mother VoiceTM' commanded. "I asked you a question, I believe."
Stopping short, Christie slowly shuffled back toward her Mother, reached down to pick up the book and offered it to her Mother. "I was rereading the school's Student Code of Conduct, Mom."
"Hmm, Yes, I see. And I must say, you are likely to correct in your estimation of my reaction to a suspension, although I'd like to think I'd show more decorum than 'having a cow' might indicate. And precisely why, may I ask, were you so interested in the specific sections that could get you suspended?"
Christie's mind raced as she tried to come up with something her Mother might reasonably accept, but nothing came to mind. "Aw, crap, Mom. When in doubt, tell the truth. The bitches on the competition dance and cheer squad aren't taking my polite 'no, thank you' for an answer in their drive to recruit me. They're starting to get pushy and ramping up to more intimidating tactics. I've tried turning the other cheek and ignoring them, but this afternoon, in the locker room? One of them swatted me on the cheek - umm - on my bottom cheek, and I almost decked her! Only she had her pack with her. That little dust-up would have come down to my word against all of theirs. I am getting so sick of their shi. . .errr their stuff!"
Nodding her understanding, Amanda smiled. "Does your soup need attention just now?" Blushing hotly, Christie slowly shook her bowed head. "Okay, take a seat, grasshopper, and talk to the master. . .errr, mistress of female non-martial combat arts."
When they were both comfortable, Amanda led off. "Okay, you do not want to be on this team, and you've said no, but these girls are still pushing you. Have I got that right?" At her daughter's nod, she continued. "I'm assuming this escalation has not come to the attention of, oh, I don't know, maybe the responsible adult?" Amanda asked, tongue firmly planted in her cheek.
Christie gave a tired sigh. "As if that would do any darn good! Ms. Wilson and I refuse to call that woman Coach. She is the one pushing them on me. She's got it into her head that I am all her fantastic group of girls needs to make them a state championship team - again! Wouldn't put it past her to be helping them come up with their nasty little ploys, too."
"My, my. We do NOT LIKE this woman, do we?"
Her daughter nearly snarled at that. "No. We. Do. Not. First, she's completely useless as a classroom teacher. I don't think she's even read the health textbook she passed out to us. Half of what she puts out during class time is confused, and the other half, if I am to believe the darn book, is just flat wrong! She's got a teaching job because her competition dance team and softball team are winners and the School Board likes that. At least Renee Coulter was competent. Second? Mom, I honestly don't care about or enjoy competing. It's not why Charlie or I did. . .err, do martial arts, and it wasn't why Christie did ballet. It's about the art and doing it well that moves me, even when I was Charlie."
"I take it you received no satisfaction from this Wilson person when you approached her about her team's behavior?"
"None at all. Ms. Wilson just told me she was confident I'd come around and sooner would be better for everyone - especially me."
Amanda's eyes went fire hot as she scowled at that. "Oh, she did. I see. Okay, grasshopper, just keep saying no. I will deal with Ms. Not-Coach Wilson on Monday."
Christie liked that idea. "Are you going to use power on her? Can I watch?"
Her Mother snorted and then fluttered her fingers as if flicking away a fly. "Pfft! As if I'd use my power on something so insignificant. No, there are other, more satisfying ways to deal with the Ms. Wilsons of the world, my dear."
"Well, would you please enlighten your daughter, Mom? My preferred solution would get me suspended, likely expelled and possibly kicked out of the dojang!"
"Christie, I haven't been idle since you first told me of her interest in you as I thought I had heard some rumors about her in the past. I think Sir Francis Bacon first wrote that 'Knowledge, itself, is power.' I'm just going to demonstrate that truism to Ms. Wilson." Amanda said with a wicked smile on her face. "Trust your Mom, girl. I've got this."
"Okay, Mom, and thanks. Anything else? I need to cook the pasta for the tomato and lentil soup."
"Oh, that sounds and smells lovely, but. . . " Amanda's voice trailed off, and then she shrugged. "You just had to lead off with that 'tell the truth' line, didn't you? Darn. Okay, here's some truth. As you well know, I always have worried about you and your Taekwondo - even back when you were Charlie." Christie nodded. "And I've been seriously stewing over it ever since you had that match with that troll Tad. Anyway, long story shortened, I imposed on Grandfather Kim and went to see him and talk to him about you and how you're doing."
"Mother! You didn't!" Christie gasped out accusingly.
Amanda nodded, then pointed her thumb at herself and said, "Mother here! So, yes, I did. We got to talking about you and how well you're doing. Well, I got so proud and puffed up. I wanted to brag on how hard you have been working, so, umm, so I showed him this video I took while you were working out last week. You were so determined to do it correctly and worked diligently."
"What did you show him, Mom?"
"Umm, Grandfather called it, now let me think. . . Not sure I quite remember, but it sounded like Corduroy Pump? Poof? Something like that."
"You recorded me working on the Koryo Poomse? And showed it to Grandfather?"
Amanda nodded, looking a little abashed. "He said that it was a very advanced exercise - one they don't teach until students are working towards their red belts. He . . .uhm . . . He was concerned that you might not be physically ready to do that exercise and that you might injure yourself trying. He said he was going to talk to you about it."
"But, I've been performing that Poomse for more than a year!"
"Christie, Charlie had been performing it for more than a year. You're not Charlie, and while you are in superb physical condition thanks to your years of dance, being in shape for ballet is not the same as being in shape for the martial arts. Or at least, that's what Grandfather told me. Something about specific ligaments that needed work and fine muscle control, but he worried you might injure yourself doing that on your own right now."
Christie sat there for a few moments before shaking her head and looking defeated. "I understand. It's not like it's the first thing I've encountered that Charlie could do and I can't. I'll talk to Grandfather tomorrow before class. Well, since he knows about Charlie and me, he might have some better insights into how I should go on from here. Darn it, Mom! It's just so frustrating. I can see it all so very clearly in my head. I know how my body, arms and legs should feel when I correctly do a move or a form. It's just that sometimes? I can't get my body to do it."
"I won't say I know just how you feel because I don't. My challenges during my trial were so much more basic than what fate seems to have in store for you. Just know that I do check on your progress regularly utilizing an augury. Everything I am permitted to see says you remain on track and working your way through your lessons. I want you to know I'm proud of how well you've handled all this."
Christie leaped from her chair to embrace her Mother. "Thanks, Mom. I try not to bitch . . .complain, but this is all just so hard to understand. You say there's a purpose to all this, and I believe you. I just wish it would stop taking its bloody sweet time getting here!"
Amanda held on to her precious daughter, her precious child, for several beautiful minutes before Christie stood back up. "Go fix your face and finish dinner, dear. And then? How about a movie on the big screen? Your choice."
"Sure, Mom. Dinner in ten minutes, but I'm not the only one who needs a little cosmetic repair."
'Smartass! Git, you!'
~-~
Amanda sat patiently in her car, waiting for the flood of kids leaving Dolley Madison High School to ebb, and was pleased to catch sight of her daughter and her best friend, Valerie, hurrying off in the direction of the nearby Kim Dojang. Starting her car, she moved to a Visitor parking slot in front of the main entrance, turned off her car, and made her way into the school. Amanda had planned this excursion carefully, phoning ahead to get a parent-teacher conference scheduled with Ms. Wilson through the main office earlier in the day. She signed in at the main office, got directions to the P.E. Offices and strode off to do battle. This was going to be fun!
Knocking on the open office door's frame, Amanda got the coach's attention. Ms. Wilson smiled, rose from her desk, and came over to greet her visitor, right hand extended. She wasn't a tall woman, although she had evidently replaced her trainers with three-inch heels for this meeting. Amanda thought she had probably been a flyer during her cheerleading and dance days. Probably had fallen on her head more than once, too.
"Hello, you must be Christie McKellar's Mom. I'm Patricia Wilson."
"Yes, I'm Amanda McKellar," taking the proffered hand and giving it a perfunctory shake, "Thank you for making time to see me this afternoon. I wanted to speak to you about your cheer and dance team."
"Oh? Please have a seat. How can I help you?"
"You can tell the girls on your team to leave my daughter alone. She will not be joining your team and has told them so politely on numerous occasions, but they don't seem to understand that 'no' means 'no. 'Rather like horny teenage males in the backseat of their Mother's car on their first date. I want YOU to put a stop to this nonsense, TODAY."
"Mrs. McKellar . . . Amanda . . ."
"Mrs. McKellar, please."
Ms. Wilson's eyes shot open, and her mouth made an 'O' before she swallowed and continued. "Mrs. McKellar, then. The girls are merely trying to recruit your daughter. I understand she's no longer involved with ballet. Joining my team would be an ideal opportunity for her to continue her dance participation, to make new friends, you know, to become an important part of an important school team. She'd also earn stature among the students in the school."
"Ms. Wilson. My daughter is heavily involved in a martial arts program. She does not have any spare time for your team practices or competitions. Furthermore, I would have to sign off on the school's permission documents to permit her to participate in your sport. I will not allow my daughter to join any team with you as the coach."
"Mrs. McKellar, I must protest. I am a highly regarded coach with multiple state place winners on my record. I am one of the very best."
"I've had you investigated, Ms. Wilson. Six of your girls have been injured during practice or performing in the past five years. Three of those girls are still unable to compete, even after more than a year off. According to my sources, your routines border on the extreme, especially for a high school team. Do you win? Yes, you do. When no one gets hurt, that is. Did you know that, among your peers, it seems to be common knowledge that you have your eye on a college coaching position? I can only assume that you're trying to ride these girls to that end."
"That is NOT true, damn you!"
"Well, we will see what the school board thinks of my findings. Unless you turn your girls off my daughter and leave her alone yourself, my boss' law office will courier those records to the school board offices under their official letterhead by noon Friday. That is not a threat, Ms. Wilson, and furthermore, I understand my daughter has the extreme misfortune to be in your so-called health class. Understand that I review ALL her homework. If you should attempt to retaliate against my daughter through her grades? I will also have the evidence to take that up with your principal."
Wilson sat heavily in her chair and stared at Amanda. "You think you've got this all worked out, don't you?" She finally blustered.
"Oh, I do indeed, Ms. Wilson. Damn it, woman, you're supposed to be a coach! You are supposed to teach those girls more than just how to perform in your sport. You're supposed to be teaching life lessons to help those young women grow up to become better people."
"And yet, you'll let your daughter fight in martial arts competitions, but you won't let her dance on my team because THAT is unsafe? How do you think that will sound to the school board when you take this fabrication before them?"
Amanda stood and stared down at the woman behind the desk. "You see, Ms. Wilson, just as I had you professionally investigated, I did the same with the Kims. Their reputation is spotless. There have been no significant injuries among their students in dojang-sponsored events for more than ten years. I've seen how they actively intervene to prevent injuries. If you were only half as good as they are, I might relent IF my daughter wanted to join your team. She doesn't, by the way. Have a good day, Ms. Wilson. I do hope we don't need to discuss this any further." And then she turned on her heel and walked away. She thought she heard something crash hard against the office wall as she stepped into the school hallway and smiled.
It had been fun.
~-~
Credit: Photo 124641434 / Ballerina Book © Photosvit | Dreamstime.com
Mind, Body and Spirit Redux, Part 5
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Continued by Paula Dillon and Tigger Part 5 - Dreams and Other Magicks
After her little beat-down with the cheer and dance coach, Amanda hadn't heard anything further on that subject from Christie. Nor had she been called by any school administrators to come to pick up her erring daughter after she'd cleaned the clock of one of Wilson's girls. She wasn't sure which thought pleased her more.
It was a lovely Sunday morning in early October. She was about ready to start cooking brunch, so she wandered over to the patio doors to check on her daughter. At first glance, Christie seemed finished with her usual morning exercises, but she was still doing . . .something - and very energetically, too.
Cracking open the sliding door just a bit, the rousing notes of the song 'Maniac' from Flashdance were playing. Oh my God, Amanda realized Christie was DANCING and quite well, too. She was barefoot in the grass, her eyes closed, hair-free and loose, with just the tiniest little smile curving her lips. Amanda couldn't recall ever seeing her daughter perform this choreography before. It wasn't ballet - not really. It was more free-form than classical ballet, but it was beautiful, and her daughter was delighted doing it.
Carefully, to not disturb Christie's bliss, Amanda closed the door and slipped back from the window glass. She could still watch through the crack in a curtain. Amanda waited until Christie finished her dance before opening the door noisily and calling out, "You going to come in and eat my delicious breakfast or not, girl?"
Christie still jumped and momentarily looked like the proverbial kid with her hand in the cookie jar before she relaxed. "Just finished, Mom. Do I have ten minutes to get cleaned up?"
"Oh, I think we could even make it fifteen if you don't mind your omelet getting a little cool."
"Can't have that!" Christie crowed as she grabbed her gym bag and raced into the house. "Ten minutes! Time me!"
~-~
When Christie hustled into the kitchen, her hair still wrapped in a fluffy white towel, Amanda overtly checked her watch. Shaking her head in mock sadness, she said, "Nine minutes and fifty-two seconds. You have to be the only teenage girl in the United States that can say ten minutes to clean up and mean it. Where oh where did I fail you, girl?!?"
Christie giggled as she poured orange juice into the glasses her Mom had set out on the breakfast bar. "Well, I guess there's a couple of places, now that I think about it. First, you started with a son named Charlie and did a great job raising him."
"Harumph," Amanda growled as she set the plated omelets down and started the toaster. "What!? So you're saying I had faulty materials, to begin with?"
"Maybe," Christie smirked back as she reached for the pepper grinder. "And the second place is that you threatened me with a less than perfect omelet! Trust me, I was highly motivated!"
"Well, I must say that I appreciate cooking for you more now that you are a martial artist and not a ballerina. Whole-grain cereal, skim milk, and yogurt just didn't satisfy my culinary, artistic bent."
After sampling her omelet with a happy nod, Christie looked up at her Mother. "That likely would have happened, anyway. I checked this morning before going outside, and I've grown another half inch and gained another half pound since September. I couldn't have kept to the dietary regimen I was on for ballet much longer. It would have been unhealthy. I guess Christie just wasn't meant to be a Prima Ballerina."
Amanda nodded as she chewed, filing that observation away along with the memory of her daughter's Sunday morning dance session for future consideration. "Well, I haven't heard anything from you about the cheer team girls in the last few weeks since I met with their sponsor. Any problems there or with Ms. Wilson? Or are you still being all stoic and male and handling it yourself?"
"No, not really. That confusion of weasels has pretty much backed off and left me alone."
"Wait, What? Confusion?"
Christie giggled. "A group of weasels can be called a confusion - I googled it and thought it fit them perfectly!"
"So, they're not a problem anymore?"
"Oh, they're trying to be subtle. Seems I am supposed to be shunned by all the 'cool people.' However, their subtlety broke down when they tried to harass some girls eating lunch with me for engaging in such unacceptable and antisocial behavior."
"Really?"
"Yep. Seems my Taekwondo girls aren't all that impressed with the queens of the school either. Oh, and get this! Lisa Brandt even crossed their supposed picket line! She's now my lunch buddy, too."
"The girl you had issues with at Madame Coulters? I thought you two didn't get along at all."
"Surprised the heck out of me, too. Seems Lisa has been taking the brunt of Renee's grief since I left, but unlike me, she's decided she really wants to be a professional dancer. So she puts up with her crap to get the benefit of Rene's admittedly excellent skills. She came to me because she's decided she needs to improve her strength and stamina but doesn't want to bulk up doing it. I work with her after school on nights I don't have a class with the Kims."
"Well, I must say that I never saw that coming. How does it feel? Working with ballet again, I mean."
Christie took a sip of her juice and thought about her answer for a few moments. "I like it. Mom, I think I told you that art and the ability to do it well motivates me. I never wanted to compete with Lisa; I just wanted to dance and create art. She never understood that, so she saw me as a threat. Now I'm not, and I like helping her. I still love dance, and I enjoy working with her. 'Course, we're careful not to let Renee know about our arrangement. She'd throw a fit!"
Another piece of the Christie dance puzzle to ponder, Amanda thought. "So, besides being a semi-social outcast which I can tell bothers you greatly. NOT! Any other problems with your boogle of weasels?"
"Boogle? Is that a word?" Amanda's smug nod almost had Christie reaching for her iPhone, but she didn't.
"Not really. They just don't matter, which I think bugs them even more than my saying 'no' did in the first place."
"Yes. It's hard to be the Queen Bitch if your chosen subjects can simply ignore you. What about Wilson?"
"Oh man, Mom, whatever you did to her? She's been declawed, defanged and dehorned! In Women's Health? My last three homework assignments and quizzes have all come back with only one red mark. An 'A' at the top of the first page. She basically ignores me in class since I don't ask her questions because I'm positive I know the material better than she does. Oh, and get this. On her most recent quiz? I intentionally wrote a wrong answer to one of the questions and STILL got the 'A' and no other red marks. I mean, really! I put down 'curds and whey' when the correct answer was 'yeast infection .'You really put the fear of the Goddess in that woman!"
"Just as well, I suppose. Just make sure you come to me if Wilson pulls any more of her tricks. She's just not worth your time or trouble." Amanda stood and began to clear the breakfast bar. "So remember. Moms just want to have fun, too."
Christie helped her Mother with the cleaning up. Together, they soon had the kitchen set to rights and the dishes cleaned and dry. "Let's have our coffee on the patio, okay, Mom?" Christie asked as she poured fresh cups for them both, "Should be warm enough outside by now, and I wanted to ask you about something else."
Amanda agreed but went and fetched her hair tools before following her daughter outside. Amanda unwound the towel from Christie's head after setting the brushes, combs, and her coffee down on the patio table, "So, what's the big question you've waited until brunch was over to ask me, love?" Amanda asked as she began to brush Christie's hair.
Christie leaned back sensuously into her Mother's deft handling of her hair and nearly purred. "Well, this is gonna sound a little strange, but do you dream a lot, Mom?"
Pausing in her brushing, Amanda tried to look at her daughter's face before shrugging. "I dream, Christie. As I understand it, everybody dreams. Whether I dream a lot or not? I've no idea. Why do you ask?"
"Well, it seems that I dream a lot more than I remember dreaming as Charlie, now that I've become Christie. Something else is a little bizarre, too. When Charlie remembered dreaming, he usually remembered the whole dream. I don't. Remember what I dreamed, I mean. I'm pretty sure I DID dream, and I think . . .mind you, that's THINK the dreams were pretty repetitive, but I can't remember what I saw or heard in them."
"Is this a regular thing? And if so, do you recall when it started?"
"Hmmm. Maybe the middle of August to the first of September? It was pretty sporadic then, and I only noticed it because it was so different from what Charlie usually experienced. Anyway, it seems like every night over the last couple of weeks. And I don't really have any particular Christie memories of dreaming like this, either. I guess I wondered if this might be some girl thing - like maybe puberty or a magical thing."
"Well, I don't think it's a pure girl thing, but on the other hand, I've never heard of anything like that in our family, either. I'll call your Grandmother later, and we'll both go through our family records to see if we can find anything that might be similar."
"Maybe I should look at them, too? I might see a hint that would clue me in? You know, because I was there in my dreams?"
Amanda frowned and shook her head. "There is a longstanding McKellar tradition that no one looks at our records until their powers have fully emerged. I'm not quite sure why. It might only be one of those 'secret handshake' things you only learn after completing an initiation, or it might be something more. Since it is magic, our family has always chosen to be safe and abide by the stricture. Sorry, dear."
"No problem, Mom. When you think about it, this is all pretty scary stuff! Look at what it did to me, right? Better safe, 'cause I don't even want to know what I might need to be sorry about."
Amanda made one last slow brushstroke through Christie's hair, took her own seat and sipped her coffee. "I think that is perfectly sensible. So, any plans for the rest of today?"
Christie grimaced. "Not really. I've got a paper due in two weeks that I need to finish researching. If I've got everything I need, I'll start the paper. If not, I may have to check out the local libraries. Their databases are better than the ones I can access at home for free."
"Hmm, okay then. Oh, I just remembered. When's your next test day at the dojang? It's not on my calendar yet."
"Last Saturday in October. I think I'll be ready for the 6th Geup Green Belt test by then. It's a little early by the WTF standards, so we'll have to see what Master and Grandfather Kim have to say. I'm not stressing over it. Grandfather explained his concerns about my current level of physical readiness. I agreed with him, so I've accepted that I won't be ready for my black belt test until well after my next birthday ."
"Thanks," her Mother said as she punched the testing date into her phone's calendar. "Let me know if you need to hit the public libraries. And you might find what you need in my law office's subscription databases. Lexis-Nexis is pretty complete regarding current events and the like."
Christie stood, collected their empty coffee cups, and leaned over to kiss her Mother. "Thanks, Mom. I'll be sure to let you know. See you later."
As for herself, Amanda just leaned back on her chaise, closed her eyes, and savored her memory of a Maniac dancing about in her garden earlier this morning.
~-~
Several days later, Amanda came downstairs to discover that Christie was not outside doing her morning exercises. Immediately concerned, she hurried back upstairs and found a rather bleary-eyed girl staring at her hand as if she were minutely inspecting her manicure. "Christie? Are you all right?" She asked.
It took Christie a few seconds to register she'd been addressed. She almost snapped out of her fixation with her hands to look up at her Mother, then blinked several times rapidly. "Oh, good morning, Mom," she said, seemingly still distracted.
"Christie, What is wrong?" Amanda demanded, growing more concerned by the moment.
Christie shook herself. "I guess I didn't sleep very well last night. I was dreaming again, only this time, I seemed to remember some of it. I kept staring at my hand and fingers like something was wrong with them. I never figured out what that was before the whole dream started again. I knew I was dreaming, but I couldn't seem to wake up - not until my alarm finally went off. Weird, huh?"
"Well, when I came in, I thought you were checking out your manicure. Maybe your inner girl has decided you need to take better care of your hands?"
"Well, if so, she could have been a little more clear about it, darn it! That kind of dreaming just wasn't restful!"
"Do you feel all right to go to school? Any other symptoms? Maybe you had a fever last night?" She asked, putting her hand on her daughter's forehead.
"I'm fine. Just a little tired, and I woke up kinda disoriented. I'll go to school, but I won't drive myself today, just in case."
"Okay. I'll drop you off at school. Don't hesitate to call me at work if you need me."
Christie stood and hugged her Mom. "Have I told you recently that you're the best? No? Well, you are. Thanks, Mom. Love you. Now, I need a shower and some coffee, I think."
"Love you, too, kiddo. I'll have coffee ready when you come down."
~-~
It was a little after eleven o'clock that night when Amanda had finally settled into her bed. Her review of the family journals and other records for any mention of dreaming, lucid or otherwise, had thus far been fruitless. Still tired from the previous night, Christie had headed up to bed earlier than usual. She'd been sound asleep when Amanda had peaked in on her a couple of hours ago, but she'd kept a Mother's ear on her daughter, just in case.
Her hand was just reaching over to turn off her bedside light when a hellish scream of terror ripped through the silence of the darkened house. Amanda was out of her bed and running to her child before realizing what had happened. When she reached for the doorknob, she noticed her hands glowing with power and did her best to get that back under her control.
Stepping inside and flicking on the overhead light, she saw her daughter shaking both hands in front of her terror-widened eyes. "Christie, what is it?" She demanded as she rushed to the bed.
"My hands! Oh, god, Mom, my hands!"
Turning on the bedside lamp, Amanda snatched the closest hand. She held it under the light for a better view. Power rippled through her and into her daughter as she scanned with her sorcerous healing senses only to find. . . Nothing. A quick check of Christie's other hand revealed no problems there either. "What happened to your hands, dear? There is nothing currently wrong with them. I checked. Now, breathe deeply and tell me what happened."
It took the ordinarily controlled young woman several minutes to gather herself. Finally, she replied, "I . . . I think I was dreaming again. The same start, too. Just staring at my hands like I expected something to be different. Then . . .then it was almost like a whisper, but it wasn't - more like a thought. And. . . And. Oh God, Mom! My fingers caught on fire! I shook them and shook them, trying to get the flames to go out, but they wouldn't and then I started screaming . . .and then I woke up."
"Did it hurt? In your dream, that is?"
Christie started to answer and then caught herself, her forehead wrinkling in concentration. "No. . .I don't think it did. It was freaking scary, and I . . .I expected it to hurt, so I screamed. But now that you mention it . . . No, I'm pretty sure it didn't hurt. That's so strange."
Seeing that her girl was calmer now, Amanda settled beside her on the bed. "How about you spend the night with me? That way, I'll be there if the dreams come back, and you won't scare me out of ten years of my life when you wake up?"
Christie threw back the covers and clamored out of bed. "Best idea I've heard in ages!" Laughing, the pair headed for Amanda's room. Christie was again looking at her hand when she had a thought. Almost as if . . .
"HOLY SHIT, MOM! MY FREAKING HAND! LOOK AT MY FINGERS!"
Spinning, Amanda saw Christie's hand, out at her arm's entire length away from her body, with little licks of flame dancing merrily from each fingertip. Relief, humor and a sudden urge to cry cascaded through the older woman. Finally, with a sniffling chuckle, she took Christie's hand in hers and extinguished the tiny flames.
"Congratulations, Miss McKellar. You are a sorceress. Remember that pistol analogy I used to explain your initial transformation? Well, your gun just got locked and loaded with live ammo. Now, let's go do some basic training so we can both get some sleep without you inadvertently setting my bed on fire."
Mind, Body and Spirit Redux, Part 6
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Continued by Paula Dillon and Tigger
Part 6 - Magic in Dreams
Christie bounced out of the ladies' dressing room and into the dojang's main studio sporting a big smile. It was Saturday, and all of her school work was already done, but that wasn't the best news. It really wasn't a done deal yet, but Grandfather Kim had just told her that he planned to convince the Red and Black Belts to let her test for her 6th Geup Green belt two weeks from today! She'd been hoping to take that test despite the fact she hadn't completed the usual four months as a 7th Geup Green Belt required by the Taekwondo Federation's guidelines. Grandfather had reviewed that WTF time requirement and found that it intended to ensure a candidate had completed the necessary training before trying to advance to the next level belt. The four-month criterion assumed a casual student taking three, one and one half-hour classes per week, or roughly 100 hours in class.
Christie usually doubled the usual hours she trained on a class day class, so Grandfather felt she had met both the spirit and the intent of the Federation's requirement. Besides, he'd told her that she was way beyond well prepared in any event. She was regularly sparring with the dojang's blue belts and holding her own with them.
Which was why Christie was already rigged out in her full sparring gear. She wanted more sparring, especially against more advanced and experienced students. She wanted to ace that test, so she wanted some practice bouts today. And if someone else was looking for a match, then, gee, Jeja Christie is evidently more than ready to oblige. Pick me! Pick Me!! PICK ME!!!
Giggling at herself, Christie began her usual pre-class stretching and warm-up exercises regimen. She was early for her class, as usual, to be ready for her lessons when they started. Or maybe an impromptu sparring bout?
Most Saturdays, she had the studio to herself at this early hour. Today, however, a few other students were already working on the mat. They probably were getting ready for test day, too. Young-Soo's daughter, Kim Eun Ae, or as she preferred, Eunice, was out on the mat sparring with Greg Fresnel. Both currently held the rank of 5th Geup Blue Belt, which was evident as neither was kitted out in their protective wear. Christie watched them and saw that they were more shadow boxing than actually sparring. Safety first, she thought.
Warm, loose, and ready, Christie stood just off the mat, bouncing lightly on her toes, and watched the two teens working together. Greg positioned Eunice and then slowly walked through a combination of moves Christie had seen him working on recently. He started with a ridge hand lead, followed up with a spinning back fist before launching into a spinning kick aimed at his opponent's head. It was a pretty impressive combination, Christie thought. Greg then made the moves again, this time somewhat faster, with Eunice standing off to the side where she could safely observe and offer advice for improvement.
Christie began thinking her way through the progression of the combination in time to Greg's attack. She was just about to walk through it on her own when she saw that Greg did not land solidly on his back foot when he finished the faster combination, tweaking his ankle. Shaking it off, he seemed to limp, ever so slightly, as he returned to his starting position.
Greg gestured for Eunice to take up the opponent's position across from him, and Christie felt her blood run ice cold. Even as Greg started the ridge hand lead, Christie was racing across the mat toward the two teens, screaming, "GOMAN!! GOMAN!!"
She was almost too late. When Christie reached them,.Greg was already spinning into the back fist's setup. Only to be surprised and off-balance when his target was suddenly pulled away from him. Regaining his balance, he turned around to glower at Christie. "WHAT THE HELL, Christie!?" he yelled, even as he moved towards a perplexed Eunice. "What was that all about??"
Christie noted that he was favoring the injured ankle even more. Without ice and a wrap, it was probably starting to swell. Swallowing hard, she tried to keep her tone firm but reasonable. Pointing to the foot he was now obviously favoring, she said, "That happened. You hurt your plant ankle on that last demonstration. Neither of you is outfitted for full contact, and I was worried you might lose control when you planted for the kick and miss your aim point."
Greg just stared at her. "Ah, that's just bullsh. . .ugar, Christie. The ankle's fine. Good to go. Watch" He did a little spin jump but couldn't stop a wince when he landed on the injured ankle. "Okay, it's a little tender, but it's no big deal. You had no business pulling Eunice away like that. You could have hurt her badly."
"You say the ankle is good enough? Okay. Do your combo on me, full speed. I'm already fully kitted out for sparring with my chest and body protectors. Just let me put on my headgear. If you can complete that combination to form, I'll apologize and then see Young-Soo and Master Kim for discipline."
"Aw, you don't have to do that," Greg averred. His ankle was getting pretty tender, but darn it, Eunice was here, and he didn't want to look fragile. "Just don't do that again."
"Do the combo with me, Greg. I want to see it from the point of view of your opponent anyway. I might have to spar with you for testing one day. Let me have it, big guy! Time to show off for your girl, Romeo!"
"Okay, you're on, McKellar," he said as he took his starting position opposite Christie. "You ready?" He asked as he brought his hands up in front guard.
"I'm ready," Christie acknowledged. "Eunice, will you give the order to begin, please?"
Her father's daughter, to her core, Eunice stepped smartly to the typical Joo Sim position, between the fighters but a few steps back. "CHARYUT! (attention)" she ordered, then "Kyungnet!". Then, when Christie and Greg had finished their bows, she commanded loudly, "Si Jak! (begin)."
Knowing what was coming, Christie let the ridge hand strike land but softened the impact of the blow by moving with it. She deflected the spinning back fist and then braced herself. As she'd feared, Greg's plant ankle buckled under the strain of putting his body in the kick. With that essential support compromised, Greg couldn't get his leg up high enough to touch Christie's headgear. At the same time, however, he was still carrying all the momentum from his spinning back fist into the kick. The rotational stress on his already hurting ankle threw him completely off balance and into Christie. The kick hit her hard, VERY hard, right in her solar plexus.
Even with her protective gear, Christie went down flat on her back with her wind badly knocked out of her. Completely out of control and flying on the kick's momentum, Greg landed on top of her prone body.
"GOMAN! GOMAN!" Multiple voices yelled as all three Kims came rushing onto the mat with the other red and black belt instructors hot on their heels. When they tried to find out what had happened, the only one who could still speak was Eunice - Christie couldn't catch her breath with Greg writhing on top of her holding his injured ankle.
Young-Soo took charge of getting his daughter's story. Master Kim helped Greg get up off Christie while Grandfather squatted down beside Christie to check her out.
Things eventually calmed down as the Kims worked to restore order. When Christie finally had gotten her breath back, Grandfather gave her his little half-smile and asked, "Want to tell me what really happened, Jeja Christie?"
Swallowing hard, Christie levered herself up so she could whisper into the old man's ear. "Papa, it happened just as I've seen in my dreams all week. A fighter hurt his ankle but kept sparring and then threw a combination that his ankle couldn't support. He lost his base when his ankle failed and blasted a kick right into the other fighter's solar plexus. I saw Greg turn his ankle when he did a second walk-through of that combination for Eun Ae. Grandfather, she didn't have her chest and body protectors. When I saw that, it was like the faceless fighters in my dreams suddenly became them. . . I couldn't take the chance. . .I.... "
Grandfather put a finger to her mouth to shush her. "Rest now, Jeja. We will speak more of this later in a more private setting."
She nodded and sat up and heard talking to Master Kim, "I don't know how she figured it out, Master, but Christie was worried I'd hurt Eunice, so she stopped us. Guess I probably would have, huh?"
"You landed that kick quite solidly on Jeja Christie, Jeja Greg," Master Kim observed, even as he checked the boy's injured ankle.
"I'll say I did, Master. I don't think I've ever hit anything that hard before. Well, maybe the heavy bag, but that's about it. Maybe someone should take Christie into the locker room and check her out? I mean, she took that kick right here," Greg said, demonstrating on his own body, "Just below the wishbone."
"Good thinking, Jeja Greg," Master Kim looked up, scanning the room until his gaze fell on his favorite black belt student. "Wiillllll-MAHHHH!!" He bellowed in an unusually deep, gravelly voice.
Wilma Davis came hustling over, looking just a little peeved. "Darn it, Master, if you don't stop using that blasted Fred Flintstone impression with my name," she mock-growled, "I will put salt in your tea instead of sugar!"
"Mercy! I surrender!" Master Kim teased back. "Wilma, please take Jeja Christie back to the dressing room and look at where she was kicked. From where I was standing, that kick looked Donnie-ish. Fortunately, Jeja Christie was wearing her protective gear, but she took the kick in a vulnerable body location. Let us know if she needs to go to the emergency room."
"Yes, Master."
"I'm all right," Christie tried to refuse.
"Oh?" Greg snarked at her. "Like I was all right, Christie? Shut up and obey the Master, already."
"Yes, Thank you, Jeja Greg. Shut up and obey the Master, Jeja Christie," Master Kim repeated, his voice completely deadpan.
Wilma took Christie's arm and led her across the mat toward the dressing rooms. "Come on, girl. Got to obey the Master!"
"All right, All right!! Sheesh!" Christie giggled as everyone ganged up on her. "I'll obey the Master!"
"And Jeja?" Grandfather Kim called out from behind her. "You can leave your sparring gear in your locker. You won't be sparring today, even if you can continue in today's class."
Christie's shoulders slumped at that, but she turned and bowed to Grandfather, acknowledging his order before turning back to the dressing room.
~-~
Christie had a bruise, which she had known before Wilma had stripped her, and it was going to be colorful - maybe even iridescent. Still, it was JUST a bruise, no worse than a hundred others she'd gotten over the years. Well, that Charlie had gotten. Somehow, she didn't think that argument would do much to appease her Mom. "You're not Charlie!" Rang in her mind as clearly as if Amanda was in the dressing room with them.
ANYway, nothing was broken; she would be sore for a few days. Fortunately, Wilma was both a girl and a karateka, so Christie had been able to fast-talk her way back out onto the mat for class. However, once she was there, it became apparent that her core flexibility was compromised by the injury and worsened as her class progressed.
Eventually, Grandfather decided she'd enough for one day and summoned her off the mat. "No more today, Jeja. You need to rest and let yourself heal, so your injury doesn't become worse. Come to my office, and we will have that talk I mentioned earlier."
Christie wanted to argue but knew better; her body told her the same thing as Grandfather. As she entered his office, Christie was surprised to find her Mom waiting there, sipping tea. "I called your Mother, Christie," Papa Kim said from behind her, "While you were in the dressing room with Wilma. I felt she needed to be part of our discussion."
"And I'm going to take a look at that bruise I've heard about, young lady," Amanda told her daughter, clearly as pleased with her daughter getting hurt as Christie had expected.
"Yes, Mom. Thank you for calling her, Grandfather."
"I will just step out for a few moments and let you and your Mother have some privacy. Call me when you're done, Amanda?"
"Of course, Papa," Amanda replied, setting her teacup down on the office desk. "Thank you."
The old man bowed slightly and slipped out, locking the door behind him. "Okay, Christie," Mom growled, "Strip off that dobok! Let me see what you've done to yourself."
Moving as quickly as she could without aggravating her sore abdomen, Christie did as she was told. "I didn't kick myself, Mom!" She groused.
"Well, according to what Grandfather explained to me when I got here, you took a kick intended for someone else, so you might just as well have kicked yourself! What were you thinking?!?" Amanda fumed as she placed a gentle hand on her daughter's bruise and began to scan with her Healing Sight.
Christie just sighed. She knew better! There would be no satisfying her Mom about this. But still! She'd had good reasons for what she did, darn it! Reasonable, Christie, she ordered herself. Make your case calmly. No emotion for Mom to grab and toss right back at you!
"Mom, you know I've been dreaming more and more. Well, I think . . .no, I'm almost positive. I saw what happened today in my dreams every night this week. And when I saw it happening right there in front of me, I couldn't NOT intervene!"
Amanda's head snapped up, and her eyes locked with Christie's. "You say you saw this? In your dreams? You SAW that you would get kicked into the middle of next week, and you still DID it??"
Shaking her head, Christie sighed softly. "It wasn't anything so clear and to the point, Mom. In the dream, there were two fighters in a sparring match. Just two fighters. I never saw their faces, and I was never sure if they were men or women. During their bout, one of them injured his ankle but kept sparring. One thing led to another, and the injury broke down during a combination of moves. The injured fighter kicked the other one hard in the chest or abdomen. Then the dream would start all over again.
"Well, today, I saw one of the guys in the main studio play-sparring with one of the girls. You know them, as a matter of fact. Greg and Eunice? They went to dinner with us after the recital, remember? Anyway, I saw Greg twist his ankle showing off for Eunice. He tried to shake it off and then started to do it again. In that instant, the dream flashed in my head, only this time I SAW Greg and Eunice in place of the two faceless fighters. I raced in and managed to separate them, but I think Greg injured himself further with that repetition."
"All right, this is getting a little out there, Christie. You intervened because you had a dream, right? And you got kicked because?"
"Greg was showing off for Eunice, Mom. Typical guy stuff. He was determined to show her this cool move he's been working on, but neither had their sparring pads on. I did because I wanted to spar today after class. If the dream held true, someone was going to get kicked. Eunice would have been badly hurt if she'd been kicked without her pads, so, I . . .um, I sort of taunted him into doing it with me, okay? I knew what was coming and what might happen. I figured I could protect myself."
"Really," Amanda drawled sarcastically.
"Umm, I guess his ankle was worse than I thought? I caught the kick square in the chest, full momentum on the spin, and then he fell on me and caught me in the chest again. The only difference between this and my dream is that three fighters were involved and not just two. Maybe because I stopped being an observer and became a participant, I changed the ending somehow."
"You do realize what you're saying, don't you? What you are describing is a precognitive event."
"Yeah, I kinda concluded that for myself. Uhh, this IS one of these sorcery things I'm supposed to be on the lookout for, right? It's spooky enough as it is. I'd at least like to be able to blame it on the magic!"
"Precognition as a sorcerous ability is not unheard of, but extremely rare and usually annoyingly sparse on details. Like not knowing the faces and sexes of your fighters," Amanda stood up, pulling her hand back from Christie's abdomen. "Well, you've got a very deep bruise and some bruised innards to go with them. I can't sense anything too serious, but I'm still going to try healing you before calling Papa back. Now, sit still for me."
Amanda again laid her hands on her daughter's injury and began concentrating. Christie felt like someone had turned on a heat lamp inside her stomach. Soothing warmth began spreading outward from the focal point directly beneath her Mother's hands. Amazed at the feeling, Christie centered her mind and tried to sense what was happening.
She sensed, felt, experienced? Christie sensed a link or connection had formed between her Mother and her. She somehow felt her Mother 'telling' her body what to do next. Telling Christie how to heal.
Amanda maintained her healing touch for several minutes, then sighed deeply. When she removed her hands from her daughter's abdomen, Christie 'felt' the 'link' break, as if her Mother had 'hung up the phone' on her end. Eyes wide with wonder, she breathed out, "My God, Mom! I felt that!"
"Well, I should hope so!" Her Mom snarked, "Helping your body fix itself and accelerating your natural healing rates are hard work. You SHOULD be feeling less pain now."
"No, no! That's not what I meant. I FELT you healing me. There was this connection between us, and you were somehow telling the hurt places how to fix themselves. Oh! And it felt WARM where you were working. Do you have to feed some kind of energy into the injury to help it heal?"
Now, it was Amanda's eyes that went wide with shock. "You felt the link? Sensed the healing energy flowing from me to you? My God, you must have some emerging healing talent. Precog and healing? Good heavens, Christie, it took you long enough, but it looks like your power is finally starting to show itself! Your sorcery training requirements just got a lot more demanding, young lady. Hope you're ready to work!"
"Can I put my dobok back on now? And invite Grandfather Kim back in?"
~-~
"That's quite a story, Christie," Grandfather said once she had finished repeating her story for him. "Amanda, you are quite certain she will recover and not require further medical assistance?"
"Very sure, Papa. It is only a bruise. Without my healing intervention, it would have been rather painful and annoying. Now, she'll be completely healed by next Saturday. She will have to take it a little easy during her weekday lessons, but she'll be fine."
Grandfather nodded. "That's good. She needs to be ready to test for her next belt the Saturday after next. Your daughter has exhibited both a precognitive ability and a talent for healing, yes?" Both women nodded. "Very well. I assume you have training in hand to help her manage and develop these abilities?"
Amanda shook her head. "For the healing? Yes. I have some healing talent, and the women of my family have been scrupulous in keeping records of what worked and what didn't work for training young healers. The precognition? That's another story. We have folk tales about such abilities, but I don't know of any who had such abilities in my family. I know I haven't run across anything in our records about it. I don't have such abilities. For that matter, neither does my Mom. I am at something of a loss as to how we can help Christie deal with this talent."
Grandfather Kim smiled. "As you may recall from the incident with the unfortunately named Tinkerbelle, I have some talent in the mental arts. While I have never had a precognitive experience, I know a couple of people who have such abilities. From my discussions with them, the training I received to develop my talent was remarkably similar to the training they received for theirs. Mostly, it involves some fairly advanced meditative techniques to focus the mind and, eventually, the ability. With your permission, Amanda, I will start Christie's training in basic and advanced meditation. At the same time, I reach out to my friends for specific guidance about how to then develop her talent."
"Wow, Grandfather," Christie said, "That would be so cool! Those dreams were so annoying, and I couldn't make heads or tails of them."
"Yes, Papa, thank you for the offer. At least you know someone who knows something about all this. I would be at a loss where to start."
"Excellent. I think you should take Christie home and let her soak in a hot tub for a while. We will not allow her to spar until next Saturday at the earliest, and certainly not before you tell me she is fully healed."
"Thank you, Papa Kim," Amanda said. "She should be good to go next Saturday."
"Very good. Jeja? Be ready! I think you will need some sparring challenges. Why don't we plan on five-minute bouts with Valerie, Eun Ae, and Greg? Hmm?"
Christie just stared at the old man, trying to see if he was joking or not. Valerie was already one rank senior to hers, while Eun Ae and Greg were two ranks senior. Swallowing, she simply said, "I look forward to it, Grandfather. Con Sa Hom Nee Dha, Sa Bum Nim (thank you for teaching me, teacher)."
Grinning slyly back at her, Grandfather bowed, intoning, "Chun Mun A Yoe Jeja (you are welcome, student)."
Christie bowed as best her sore stomach muscles allowed and headed for the dressing room to change back into her regular clothes. As she left, she thought, 'I wonder how you would say BOHICA in Korean? Probably best not to ask. Grandfather would likely tell me!"
Mind, Body and Spirit Redux, Part 7
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Continued by Paula Dillon and Tigger
Part 7 - Life Happens Anyway
Valerie was waiting just inside the main doors of Dolley Madison High School when Christie arrived. "Hey, girlfriend," the pretty blonde called. "Ready for another exciting Cavalier day at DMHS?"
Smiling, Christie came over to greet her friend. "Hopefully, anyway. Yourself?" She asked as they stopped at their lockers in the building's main hallway.
"Ah wuz born ready, pilgrim," Val answered in a horrible John Wayne imitation. "Hey, I meant to ask. I thought you were testing for your next belt next week. How come you weren't sparring last night at Young-Soo's? I expected you to be scurrying around challenging anybody who didn't run away fast enough."
"I'm NOT that bad," Christie retorted.
"Uh-huh, sure! Pull the other leg, and maybe someone will believe you. So what gives?"
"Eh, you weren't at class Saturday morning. I was sort of sparring with Greg, you know, Kim Eun Ae's new boyfriend? Anyway, he hurt his ankle in the middle of a combination move. I caught a spinning kick full force right under the wishbone. Knocked me down and left me breathless. My Mom got involved, and between her and Grandfather, I can't spar until at least Saturday. Probably just as well, I couldn't get really loose last night, but at least it's getting better than it was."
"Is that why Greg wasn't practicing last night? He just kept standing off the mat last night when he wasn't limping, that is."
"Well, partly, I think. Did you notice Eun Ae hovering around him like a mother with a sick child? I think he was enjoying being fussed over. Hope he gets better quick. Grandfather told me he's one of the people I have to spar against on Saturday."
"Now that you mention it, he did look awfully happy for someone who can't practice and is limping." Valerie closed her locker and headed off to their homeroom. "So, you know who you're going to be sparring with?
"Yup! And you're first, sunshine! Fear me, for I am coming for you!" Christie mock growled to her friend.
"Oh yeah, you of the mere 7th Geup? Just you bring it, McKellar! You may not be able to test next week when I get through with you!"
"You're on, Stevens, and . . ." Christie's voice trailed off as she caught sight of something happening ahead of them in the hallway. "Oh, hell! Wait here, Val. This won't take long."
"What?? Hey, where are you going?" Val called out to her friend's back.
Christie closed on her target rapidly. Trent Hopkins, prototypical skinny, academically brilliant school nerd, was being picked on - again. Martin Davis, Dolley Madison's star quarterback and most unrepentant bully, had Trent by the collar of his shirt and was playing at intimidating the much smaller boy. Just good, clean fun as far as Martin was concerned, especially since the usual teacher hall monitor was nowhere to be seen.
"Trent," Christie calmly addressed the frightened boy, "You will have to start looking out for yourself and protecting yourself, or this nonsense won't stop." Eying the smugly grinning Martin, Christie gently laid her hand on the bully's wrist. "Martin, this is beneath you, and you need to stop doing it." She told the bigger boy in a matter-of-fact tone. And then, she executed a wrist flexion compliance technique that Charlie had learned from Sa Bum Nim in their jiu-jitsu classes.
Still holding Martin's gaze, she dug her thumb down hard onto the nerve bundle at the base of the boy's wrist. "Martin, you really aren't cut out for this bullying stuff. You know what I mean?"
Martin's eyes went huge, and he let go of Trent, trying to free himself from this girl's painful hold. "Ow! Ow! Darn it, Christie! Let go." When she didn't immediately, the now dancing boy saw her cock an eyebrow that every young man learns to fear from Mothers everywhere. "Let me go, PLEASE, Christie?"
"Well, since you asked so nicely, Martin," Christie said, releasing the nerve pressure but not letting go of the hold. "You need to find another outlet for your aggression. Think chess or track and field or knitting. I mean, you need this arm to play your sports, don't you? Now, are you going to be a good boy?" She asked, bearing down again on the nerves.
"Ow, ow, ow! YES, yes. Please let go. I'll be good! I promise."
"Good boy! Very good boy. Now, leave Trent alone from now on, all right? You don't want to make me have to break a fingernail NEXT time. Do you?"
"No, Christie. I . . .I have to go. Homeroom, you know. Bye, Trent. Have a . . .err, umm good day. See you in the gym." And he was off as fast as he could go without appearing to run.
Reaching into her purse, Christie withdrew a card that she handed to Trent.
"Trent, go to the address on that card. It's Kim Young Soo's Karate School. Talk with Grandfather Kim. He'll help you figure out how you can learn to help yourself."
Christie turned to head off for class as if nothing had occurred. "What was THAT, Christie? Marty Davis has a foot of height and 100 pounds of mass on you."
"He's a jerk, but he's a fairly nice jerk. He's just too into this whole male survival of the fittest nonsense. I knew he wouldn't try to hurt me, so I wasn't in any danger of having to do something . . .more offensive to him. I'm just sick and tired of that crap and decided to do something since there wasn't any teacher around to help."
"Think Trent will go to the dojang?"
"Of course, he will," Christie said with complete confidence. At her friend's disbelieving stare, she giggled. "He'll either go on his own, or you and I will help him get there. He's a smart guy. He'll figure it out."
"You do realize that this isn't how most girls would deal with something like this? Right?"
"Why, Valerie. After all this time, you're just figuring out that I'm not most girls? How unobservant of you."
"Smartass!" Val growled as they slipped into homeroom just ahead of the bell. "We'll talk more about this later, McKellar." Christie only smiled and took her seat for attendance.
~-~
The insistent knocking on her bedroom door pulled Amanda McKellar out of a lovely dream involving warm tropical breezes, fruity rum drinks with umbrellas, and her current favorite male celebrity wearing Speedos just for her. She groaned, took a quick look at her bedside clock, groaned even louder, and buried her head under her pillow. It was Saturday, for God's sake. Her day to sleep in! Why was there someone beating on her door at . . .she peaked at the clock again. At five-thirty in the bloody morning! "MOM!" Her daughter's voice penetrated through the last lovely vestige of sleep. "You have to do your magic stuff so you can tell Grandfather whether or not I can be allowed to spar today."
So that was it, Amanda sighed to herself. She should have known. Her daughter was on a mission to take that next belt test next Saturday. That meant she had to be able to spar today to prove she was good enough for the test. Grandfather Kim was not going to permit that without Amanda's okay beforehand. Why hadn't she done this last night? Oh yeah, lovely hot bath with that beautiful bath oil and an even more delightful glass of ice-cold white wine. By the time she'd emerged from her little bout of hedonism, Christie had gone to bed and was sound asleep, so she hadn't reminded her Mom to check.
Crawling out of her bed, Amanda trudged over to the door, flung it open and glowered at her smiling - she was actually SMILING! At five-thirty in the bloody morning - daughter. Eyes narrow, she fixed her daughter with what she hoped was a blood-chilling stare. "This could have waited until later - like - oh, I don't know - maybe seven-thirty? Or even eight o'clock. Yes, eight would have been much better. Your class doesn't start until nine o'clock! Why did you have to interrupt Leonardo di Caprio cleaning wine off me with his tongue on the beach in Aruba?"
"WHOA! WHOA! MOM, TMI!" Christie took a careful step back and then frowned. "Umm, isn't he just a little past it these days?"
"In my dreams," Amanda retorted primly, "We are both young, beautiful and in the full bloom of our sexual prime. Now, WHY ARE YOU WAKING ME UP NOW?"
Looking abashed, Christie peaked up at her Mom. "Um, because I don't know how long it takes to do your sorcery thing? And I figured if you were awake, and I was still a little bit off? You could do the healing trick again so I could still spar. Oh, and of course, you have to call Grandfather and tell him."
Well, crap, Amanda thought. She'd been too busy at work this week and hadn't started Christie's healer training, so she didn't know. "The check will take maybe five minutes, and if you still need treatment, anything I can do today will be done in no more than thirty minutes. So, I am going back to bed and, hopefully, catching Leo before he slips off into some other woman's dreams. Wake me - GENTLY - at seven-thirty. Got that? Little hand on the seven, big hand on the six."
The bedroom door slammed shut before Christie could get a word in. Just off-hand, though, she did wonder where in the house they had a clock that wasn't digital.
~-~
Christie lay on the dojang mat, getting her wind back after three challenging matches. She had gotten her still irritated Mom up at 7:31, just to be on the safe side, with a fresh cup of morning coffee scenting the air. Mom muttered something about having gone two out of three with Camila Marrone. Still, she'd gotten Leo back, so Christie could relax.
As promised, Amanda's scan took about five minutes, and Christie passed without further treatment. The process itself had been fascinating as she'd done her best to follow what her Mom was doing throughout her scan. It was like when Christie had set her hand on fire. She felt she could have done the same thing herself. However, she'd promised her Mom she wouldn't attempt any healing until she'd gotten through her Mother's introductory training course.
Christie had practically skipped into the dojang, dressed in her sparring gear and was out on the mat warming up a half hour before class. The actual bouts had been held after the regular class finished. The instructors had scheduled sparring bouts for several other students who would also be testing next week. So Christie hadn't needed to "run the gauntlet" of having to fight all three matches, one after another.
Even so? She was just plain fried now that they were over. All of them had been tough, but for different reasons. She figured she won the first one, had a 'no contest' on the second, and suffered a life-altering ass-kicking loss in the third.
From a form and learning perspective, her best match of the day had been the first one against Valerie Stevens. Val was a skilled, technically adept 6th Geup Green Belt who would likely be testing for her 5th Blue at some future testing day. She was probably a better instinctive fighter than Christie, who was still teaching her body to do what her mind wanted. For all that, however, Christie had beaten her handily on points. Valerie did not quite have the whole 'killer instinct' thing down yet, and still fought to 'look pretty' when performing. Christie might not be able to do everything Charlie had been able to do, but she fought with the same intensity and drive as he had.
Her second bout had been against Greg, just as Grandfather had promised. And it had been awful! Maybe Greg was still being a little careful with his injured ankle. Still, halfway through the bout, Christie concluded that he was 'taking it easy on the girl.' He kept the score close, but he was a Blue belt! She shouldn't have been able to tag him as easily as she had during the match. Okay, so she'd gotten a little hot under the dobok and started using a little more force than was required for each technique. Nothing illegal, mind you - just enough to try and make the damn guy retaliate and give her a real fight, damn it! All she got out of that match was a good sweat.
The third bout. Wow. How to describe that abomination? An excellent example of why the WTF needed to institute a mercy rule to end completely lopsided matches? Send in the tape to headquarters. Reference A for the defense.
Eunice (and Christie now knew she was never to call her Eun Ae again) wore a 5th Geup Blue Belt, the same as Greg did. The only reason for that must be that Young-Soo was bending over backward to show the exact opposite of favoritism for his daughter. She was as tough as any Red Belt Charlie had ever fought and more challenging than a couple of the black belts he'd faced getting ready for his black belt test. That wasn't all, either. She was easily as quick a Rickey; she hit like a Mini-me version of Donnie, and because she was more than a little peeved at Christie beating on her boyfriend? She'd been almost as mean as Tad.
Christie had gotten her clock cleaned - period. She hurt all over. Nothing severe, but if there was a target area on her body that wasn't bruised, it was because Eunice had wanted it that way. Charlie had been good - damn good, but Eunice was even better. Time to mend a few bridges, Christie m'girl, before you ever have to spar with her again, she thought to herself.
Finally, she got herself up off the mat and looked for Grandfather to find out if she would be allowed to test next week.
~-~
Sunday evening, Christie broke down and asked her Mother for some of her healing help. She still hurt, and some of her aches and pains were in places she wasn't sure that Charlie'd had places. That had turned into her first official healing lesson. With her Mother's guidance, Christie began to learn how to 'look' for injuries or disease. Mom called this 'Healer Sight' as opposed to 'Healer Talent.' Evidently, sensing something wrong was not quite the same as the ability to push energy in and help fix something wrong. Mom explained it as being like sonar. The sight was passive in that it looked for the signs that indicated something was damaged. The talent was active - like active sonar - and pushed energy into the injury or disease.
Christie was very excited about moving on to the talent phase so that she could heal herself, at least for little things - like bruises. Only it turns out a sorcerer can't do that to him or herself. She couldn't even SCAN herself, for gosh sake. Well, that was disappointing, but as Mom said, "I don't know why it works that way. It's magic, and it works the way it works." Scientific? Not so much.
~-~
The testing day finally came, and Christie entered the dojang feeling quietly confident. Her forms, at least those required for this belt, were solid. She'd spent much of her class time the past week working with the other students whose tests would require the same forms. They had their timing and the moves down, so all of them should do well on the Poomsae portion of the test. That left individual skills demonstrations and sparring as Greens didn't test with weapons. All of Christie's students should pass and advance to their next rank unless someone got hurt. They just had to do what they'd been doing all week and put on a good show during the sparring bouts.
Christie changed into her dobok, tied her belt and then went out into the main studio. Her Mom and her Grandmother were both already there and seated. Mom may have had her issues with Taekwondo, but she knew that it was a big part of Christie's life. That made it a big deal to Amanda McKellar, too. Just her Mom's presence, even if she did close her eyes during the sparring, lifted Christie's mood and attitude. Checking the clock, she saw it was time to do her stretches and warm-ups so she'd be ready when the formal testing began. Young-Soo always ran a very tight ship on test day, and there were quite a few whites and yellows testing today.
The actual testing seemed to fly by for Christie. Her group was spot on doing their assigned Poomsae, with even their dobok pops and snaps in sync. After that, the various black belts who'd come to assist with the testing oversaw the individual skills demonstrations. She thought she'd aced those as well, which meant it came down to the sparring. Her first bout was against the other 7th Geup student testing for 6th Green. They put on a pretty good show, with several strikes and counters by both fighters. Christie knew she'd have won a scored bout, but that wasn't the point of these matches. Her second match was with a student testing for the 5th Geup Blue. He was more powerful than she was, but she was quicker. She managed to land enough strikes and counter enough of his that, once again, both of them showed their ability to the assembled black belts.
Her third bout would stick in her memory for a long time. After she had been called to the mat, Grandfather Kim announced, "Christie McKellar will spar with Rickey Summers." She didn't quite groan out loud, but she sure wanted to. Rickey still had difficulty delivering solid stinging strikes. It was one reason the junior black belt had not moved up into the adult classifications at the dojang. Which was good. Christie didn't have to worry about getting hurt. On the other hand, she would have to work very hard to show well against his incredible speed. She hated chasing the quick little fart around the darn mat.
Wait a minute. Charlie was the one who hated chasing Rickey. Christie had never fought him, but her quickness was her one advantage over her male version. Now there's an interesting question, she thought. Was she quick enough to run Rickey down and make him stand and fight? Charlie had never had any success trying to tag the little mosquito. And there, another thought struck her. Could she? Heck, it was worth trying, and it might even help Rickey. Eventually, she hoped.
"Well, lucky me," Christy said softly as she and Rickey assumed their starting positions on the mat. "I get the Dojang Mosquito." Rickey grinned at her use of his nickname. As Grandfather approached to take on the duty of the Joo Sim, Christie said, just loud enough for Rickey. "Hey, Rickey. Know what the problem is with boy mosquitoes? They ain't got no sting! Better get on your horse, fella, 'cause I'm coming for ya!"
"Si Jak," Master Kim shouted from the judges' table, but Rickey didn't move. He was just staring at Christie in disbelief. Christie didn't hesitate; she struck immediately, leading with a ridge hand and following it up with a spinning back fist to Rickey's chest. Both strikes landed cleanly and had Rickey backpedaling to get out of Christie's wheelhouse.
"Better stand and fight, Rickey! I'm almost as quick as you are, so you can run, but you can't hide." She landed a front kick and was moving into a second kick when Rickey went airborne over her leg sweep attempt and caught her squarely on the shoulder with a stiff kick of his own.
After that, the fight was on in earnest. Both fighters struck and countered, moved and kicked, but mostly, they stood and fought. At first, Christie tried to keep up a running dialog of 'almost-trash-talk' because it seemed to have motivated Rickey. The little fart was sparring the best match of his life! Lucky her, indeed. As the bout wore on, the pace of their fight began to wear on both of them, and Christie decided she had better things to do with her air supply than talk. Like trying to keep the Mosquito from mopping up the mat with her! She could not remember when the shouted command of "GOMAN! (stop)" had sounded sweeter.
Rickey just looked at her for several moments as if he couldn't decide what to say. Christie decided that what the hell! "DARN, Rickey!" She shouted as she swept him up into a fierce bear hug, "You were great! That flying kick? That really smarted! Great fight! Thank you!"
"Jeja Christie!" Grandfather Kim yelled. "Center Mat. These proceedings have not concluded."
"Yes, Grandfather," she replied respectfully. She hurried over to bow to her opponent, the Joo Sim and the judges before being dismissed from the mat.
Christie made sure to escort Rickey off the mat. "Now THAT'S how you should fight, Rickey. You helped me look good for the Masters."
"You did that on purpose, didn't you?" Rickey said accusingly. "You were trying to piss me off to turn that bout into a brawl."
"Oh, heck no. I just wanted you to do what you do best. Move and take your shots, but with a purpose. Like I said, I'm almost quick enough to chase you down, and I'm meaner than you. You're technically a much better fighter than I am. Once you figured that out, we were ready to rumble, guy! Bet you that will be the best fight of the day!"
Rickey thought about that for a few minutes. "I've never fought like that before. Well, not against older students. Didn't think I could. Darn it, Christie, that was really sneaky and underhanded of you!"
"Hey, I'm a girl. Sneaky is my job! Now, you know that against certain opponents, you can fight toe to toe. I'm so proud of you. That was really a great fight!" She hugged him again and then went to get her water bottle. That fight, along with all that talking, had been thirsty work.
When the black belts and the Kims came back into the studio from their deliberations, Christie saw Grandfather gesture to her to meet him after the announcements. Those didn't take long as everyone passed, and they went straight into the awarding of the belts to the newly advanced students.
After that was over, the refreshments came out, and the party began. Christie sought out Grandfather, who led her off to an isolated corner of the dojang. "Well, that was quite a fight you put on with Rickey, Jeja."
"Wasn't he just great?" Christie gushed. "That flying kick to my shoulder almost put me on my butt! I don't think he's ever hit me that hard before."
"Ah, but Christie, I thought this was the first time YOU had fought him."
Christie felt herself blush. "Oops. Kind of forgot, Grandfather. Still, he was able to make me look pretty good out there."
Grandfather nodded. "It was mutual, Jeja, but please tell me something."
"Yes, sir," Christie asked, suddenly wary.
"Is it true what you told him? That boy mosquitoes cannot sting?"
Giggling, Christie nodded. "Well, real male mosquitoes don't even have a stinger - the girls make you itch. But I guess our boy mosquito is finding his stinger."
"Christie, the look on his face when you said that? And then the shock when you went right at him with your opening combination? That may have helped that boy more than all the special instruction he's received in the last year. That was well-coached, Jeja. Now, let's see about some cookies and punch." Offering her his arm, Grandfather led her back to the main studio and the makeshift serving line.
~-~
Mind, Body and Spirit Redux, Part 8
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Continued by Paula Dillon and Tigger
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!"
~-~
Mind, Body and Spirit Redux, Part 9
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Part 9 - Magical Possibilities
A bitterly cold January morning had welcomed the students of Dolley Madison High School back from their winter break holiday. Perhaps that was fortunate, Christie thought as she hurried into the school's main lobby. The brisk walk from home had undoubtedly helped her finally wake up this morning. These latest dreaming episodes were driving her crazy. Faceless dancers dancing. Featureless faces crying. All jumbled up and making no bloody sense at all! What was the point of seeing the future if you couldn't figure out what the hell it all meant? About 3 AM this morning, Christie gave up attempting to sleep through the chaotic dreamscape and went down to the kitchen to think.
Several cups of her Mother's favorite herbal tea concoction later, she still hadn't been able to make heads or tails of her 'vision.' Other than dance and tears, she remembered nothing else of any note. There'd been no sounds, no staging, no context. How was she supposed to make any sense out of that?? At any given time, there were probably a few billion people crying and maybe almost as many dancing in the world. Why had her mind locked onto this confusing kaleidoscope of images? Was it a warning? Was she supposed to freaking DO something? WHAT!??
What concerned her the most was that the intensity, or perhaps, the urgency of her dreaming, had been ramping up over the last few nights. Somehow, she felt, practically KNEW, that SHE was supposed to do something, particularly about the damned crying!
On the walk to school, she'd thought about her options and had only come up with one that might offer an avenue to finding an answer. It was time to try using Grandfather's meditation techniques to focus her so-called gift. They hadn't really progressed to that yet during her training, but several times, she'd had that same feeling she'd gotten when she'd set her hand on fire or when she'd felt her Mom's healing link. She was pretty sure she was just a thought away from focusing her mind's magic.
That wasn't so scary, was it? Hell, yeah, it was! She couldn't come up with any other ideas, so she'd just have to try, wouldn't she. That left the question of whether she should ask Grandfather to sit in when she tried or whether she should just do it. She'd definitely prefer to have him there, but there was a problem. She wasn't really sure, but her instincts told her that Grandfather had been actively inhibiting her full power during their recent meditation training sessions. That was probably a very wise move considering they were exploring the unknown capabilities of Christie's mind, but there was this increasing sense of urgency to consider. Could she talk Grandfather into helping and taking off the training wheels? Christie guessed she'd be pondering that question all day. One way or another, she was determined to try to do this tonight.
~-~
Christie looked at the clock in the dojang's smallest studio. Forty-five minutes until her class started. Hopefully, that would be enough time to do . . .something, anyway. Somehow, she'd managed to enter the dojang, put on her dobok, and then slip into this studio, all without being seen. Wow, Ninja Christie, she giggled to herself. On the walk here from school, she'd finally decided she'd ask for Grandfather's help if he saw her and try on her own if he didn't. Was this a sign? Darned if she knew, but here she was, and it was time to act. That much, she somehow knew beyond any question.
With one last, deep, cleansing breath, Christie sank gracefully to the floor and assumed the classic lotus position. Resting her wrists comfortably on her crossed legs, she closed her eyes and began centering herself, her essence, her chi. As Grandfather had so painstakingly taught her, she found her 'safe place' and rested there, becoming familiar with it once more so that she could always find her way back if she needed it.
Once she felt ready, Christie turned her mind's focus to faceless dancers and faceless tears. A tendril of what she perceived as a light appeared on the horizon of her mind's eye, and she made herself follow it since it was the only thing other than darkness available to her. Slowly, gradually, the light resolved and became the dancer of her dream. Cautiously, Christie 'moved' closer, and the faceless dancer shifted into a ballerina - still faceless, but definitely female. She was dancing, but strangely. Not at all fluidly - more herkie-jerky motions than the smooth, elegant movements of a trained ballerina - and yet . . .? Drawing closer still, she could tell that the dancer's positions were spot on - right out of the ballerina instruction manual. She was doing that on purpose??
Of course, Christie's mind realized she was performing the windup doll dance from 'The Nutcracker.' With that insight, a face began to form on the dancer, and she looked . . .somehow familiar? Christie started to move yet closer so she could get a better look when suddenly, the whole scene shifted, and she found herself among the audience, watching the performance as a spectator.
Something, a sound? Pulled Christie's attention away from the stage and onto the person seated next to her in the auditorium. She looked familiar, too! Kind of like . . .Mrs. Pettis? Cindy's Mom? Were they watching Cindy performing as a soloist in the Nutcracker? Why?
Tears started streaming down the woman's face, and for a moment, Christie thought they were happy tears - like when her own Momma had seen Christie dance in that last recital for Madame Coulter. Then she realized they weren't happy at all. They were just streaming too hard, and the woman kept looking away, almost as if it were painful for her to watch the dancer.
". . . Me." Christie's eyes went wide. She'd never heard words in her dreams. Her friend's Mom had said something? Instantly, Christie focused all her mind on the woman, trying to hear and understand what she was "saying" . . .
With a scream of near-agony, Christie broke out of her trance and was racing through the door into the main studio before she quite knew what she was doing. She had to ESCAPE! That was the only thing on her mind. She had to get away from this . . .this . . .debacle!
~-~
Grandfather Kim was shocked to see Christie run blindly past him without even a word of greeting. Worse, the girl's face had been whiter than her dobok. Following her, he watched in amazement as she ran out of the dojang onto the sidewalk and just kept running. He started to follow but quickly realized that although he was in peak physical condition, he wasn't catching Christie on foot. Returning to the dojang, he pulled out his cell phone and began to call Amanda McKellar . . .and stopped short when he noticed the shoe boxes. Christie was running away, barefoot, in January! Just then, his call connected, and Amanda said, "Hello, Mrs. McKellar speaking. How may I help you?"
~-~
Amanda made the normally thirty-minute drive home in less than twenty. Barely taking time to turn off her engine and set the parking brake, she was out of the car and running into the house, her eyes searching frantically for signs of her daughter. The first indication Christie was home had been that the front door hadn't been locked. The second had been the faintly red-brown outlines of bare feet on the foyer floor tiles.
She didn't need her healer sight to recognize blood, Amanda thought, as she moved quickly to find her girl. She heard her before she saw her. Amanda had NEVER heard her daughter - or son - crying so hysterically. NEVER! She found Christie in the family room, curled up in the fetal position, sobbing uncontrollably! Racing to her child, she swept the disconsolate girl up in her arms and began murmuring mostly nonsense words of comfort into her ear.
"OH GOD, MOMMA! IT'S ALL MY FAULT, AND I DON'T KNOW IF I CAN EVER MAKE IT RIGHT AGAIN!!"
Before Amanda could make any sense of that declaration, she heard her still unlocked front door open, and a calm voice called out, "Amanda? Christie? It's Grandfather Kim. May I come in?"
~-~
Between the two of them, Amanda and Papa finally managed to calm the distraught girl enough that she could tell her story. Silently, they listened as she poured out everything, the recurring dreams, her confusion, and her inability to make sense of any of it. "I even sat down here in the kitchen for almost three hours this morning drinking that ghastly herbal tea you claim helps clear your mind."
Amanda had to smile at that. Charlie and Christie had always hated her special blend. It said something about her mood and motivation that she'd tried it. "Wondered why you'd put a dent in my contemplation tea blend supply this morning. Guess it didn't help all that much?"
"I don't know. Maybe? I figured out that my dream eye was just too unfocused to do me any good and that I needed to up my game somehow."
"Which," Grandfather Kim put in, "You decided was to attempt the meditation focusing techniques we've been working on the last few months?" At Christie's shaky nod, he sighed. "That was reckless of you, Jeja. There are risks associated with delving too deeply into the psionic arts without support. Why didn't you come to me, Jeja? Why didn't you ask me to help you?"
"I was fairly certain that you've been inhibiting me from using the full extent of my power during our training sessions up till now. I ended up deciding I'd ask if you caught me going into our meditation room but that I'd go it alone if you didn't. Brilliant decision, huh?"
"Apparently not, Jeja," he said with his little smile to ease the rebuke. "So, what set you off so badly that you ran two miles to your home barefoot? Oh, I have your shoes and gear bag out in my car."
"Thanks, Papa. Well, the vision itself was really different than what I get in my dreams." Christie went carefully through her entire episode, putting in as much detail as she could remember.
"So, both the dancer and the spectator looked familiar when you saw them, up close, with your mind's eye?"
Nodding, she continued. "I wasn't sure about the dancer. I just felt I ought to know her. The spectator? I initially thought it was Cindy's Mom, Mrs. Pettis. Then . . .well, then? I seemed to link with the spectator. She was really sobbing by then, and I thought I caught the fragment of a whisper, but all I understood was the word, 'Me.' So, I tried one of the focusing techniques we've been working on. It wasn't Mrs. Pettis; it was a future version of Cindy, and what she said. . .thought was 'I wish that was me. It SHOULD have been me.' Oh, God, it's my fault! She followed me out of the ballet school! She should have been the principal soloist up on the stage!"
"Her Mother approved the change, darling," Amanda reminded her. "Cindy wasn't having any fun at the ballet school and was very unhappy there.
"Yeah, but inside? That girl loves to dance." Christie went on to tell her Mother about the impromptu ballet lift after Cindy had earned her Yellow Belt and the look of sheer joy on the little girl's face. "She's been joining me for my little dance sessions after Taekwondo class sometimes. God, Mom, that girl LOVES the dance, and she could be so good at it, too!"
"Another school, perhaps, Jeja?" Grandfather asked gently.
It was Amanda who answered. "Renee Coulter is the best teacher in our area, maybe in this state. If Cindy is going to reach principal dancer status, she needs what Renee could teach her.
Amanda took her daughter's hand in hers. "Christie, remember the lesson we both learned when you quit ballet last summer? Sometimes, when one door closes, another opens. Perhaps your peek behind the curtain was just one door. Maybe you need to look for that second door?"
"Excellent idea, Amanda," Papa said. "If you are up to looking again, Christie, I will be here to anchor you for a second attempt. And you were correct; I have been inhibiting you from employing your full power up until now. I won't block you this time, but I will help you keep contact with your safe place as you go poking around in those dark corners."
"You think that might help?" Christie asked, afraid to sound hopeful.
"In truth, I don't know. Perhaps what you saw was a possibility and not a certainty. As I understand modern science, one small change can lead to huge changes later on."
"Maybe the urgency I was feeling is because the point at which that small change could impact the future is near at hand?"
"A reasonable guess, but again, I cannot really say with any certainty. Do you want to at least try, Jeja?"
"Oh, God, Yes, Papa! Anything to have a chance of wiping out 'It should have been me' out of my head!"
"Very well, where should we do this?"
~-~
Had Christie had her preferences, they would have assembled outside on their patio facing the garden she used for her morning exercises. However, the wind was howling outside, and wind chills were dropping into the single digits, so they compromised and set up in the family room.
Christie assumed her lotus position across from Grandfather Kim. "Give me your hands, Christie. Perhaps contact will enable me to help more." Papa Kim looked over to Amanda, who was clearly holding her hands, trying to keep them from shaking. "Amanda, I do not know all the details of your abilities, but I understand that you establish some type of link with your patient when you attempt to heal?" At her nod, he continued. "Put your hands on your daughter's shoulder and attempt such a linkage. Your presence in her mind will help calm her and give her added confidence for the challenge ahead."
Happy to have at least some part in this, Amanda hurried over to stand behind Christie, resting her hands as Papa had directed. Christie sighed and then cocked her head to lean into one of her mother's hands, almost like a hug.
"Now, Jeja. Center yourself. Find your safe place, and begin."
If Christie had been thinking about such things, she would have been surprised at how much easier finding her center, and the safe place was with her Mom and Papa with her. Once she had reacquainted herself with the location, she began to search as she had earlier at the dojang. This time, multiple specks of light appeared, all congregated near one another, and she started moving towards them.
Amanda was startled when she actually felt power flowing from her into her daughter. She started to resist instinctively, but then she recalled what Papa had said about the linkage calming and helping Christie, and with a conscious effort of will, she released her power to her daughter.
Christie felt herself 'speed up' in her travel to the specks, and they seemed to resolve faster - sooner than the one before had done. As she continued to approach, she started to sense details from each speck. One of them, she recognized as the same one she'd already experienced, so she made to explore the others this time, looking for the other door her Mother had talked about.
Amanda's second surprise came when she seemed to start sensing what her daughter was doing. Evidently, scraps of whatever information Christie was picking up were leaking to Amanda through their link. It was the first time she had ever experienced another sorcerer's magic like this. What she was getting was too sketchy for her to really 'see' anything, but she was clearly in touch with Christie's emotions and feelings. And then, she 'felt' the moment Christie found something she apparently liked. Amazing!
Suddenly, Papa and Amanda realized Christie had found something. Amanda tried to make more of her power available while Papa strove to hold the center and anchor the girl. And then, the draw on Amanda stopped, and Christie returned to her safe place. "Come back now, Jeja," Grandfather said softly. "Just as we have done in the past. Slowly, gently . . .and YES. You're back!"
Christie's eyes fluttered open, and she looked from her Mother to Grandfather and smiled. "Can we get something to eat? I'm suddenly starving!"
~-~
Later, over grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup, Christie related her experience and what she had learned. "It started out the same, except there were more options - I saw them as a group of light specks, initially, and I could move faster, too."
"I'm not sure how, honey, but I think you were drawing power from me. I've never heard of anything like that before, but I know what I felt! And then, I started catching the edges of what you felt. I'm amazed!"
Christie nodded as she hungrily chewed her sandwich. "That probably explains why everything became so much clearer more quickly, too. I wasn't flying on just my own power. Anyway, I think I found what my dreams have been pointing me at. One of the specks definitely had Cindy dancing the Windup Doll dance from The Nutcracker at the New York Met, and I'm positive it was her Mom this time in the audience. Somehow, I know that THIS Cindy went back to ballet class right about now, and somehow, I was involved with her training there. How? No idea, but I do know that this Cindy looked back on her ballet training with fond memories."
"I think the how should be fairly obvious, Jeja. What was it you said about Madame Coulter? There was no joy in her studio? And yet, this Jeja Cindy has pleasant memories of her time there - with you."
"Oh, hey, wait, just a cotton-picking moment, Grandfather. I'm not going to be a ballerina. I'm getting too tall and too heavy! Why would I go back to Renee's studio?"
"Obvious again, Jeja. Cindy needs you to be there to help teach her, to shield her and to show her the joy. You are already dancing with her, aren't you, Jeja? Are you qualified to be her dance Sa Bum Nim?" At Christie's shake of her head, Papa smiled. "Then you must take her to the one who is qualified and perhaps help them both find the joy of the dance."
"But, Grandfather! I love and need the Martial Arts."
"There is no law that I know of that says you cannot be both a dancer and a karateka, Christie. Perhaps you are meant to be and to teach both. Only time will tell, but you have it in you to do both well."
Christie groaned but nodded her head. "Okay, if Cindy and her Mother are willing, I'll go along, too. Not like I can get back to black belt status anytime soon with the new standards for training time."
Amanda smiled. "I'll help with Mrs. Pettis. She's a Mom, and she wants her child to be happy. We'll just have to help her realize that dance is what will make Cindy happy."
"Yeah," Christie groused, "I already figured you could do that. It's just that I'm gonna have to eat crow sucking up to Renee to get us both back into her classes."
"Oh, I don't think you'll have any problems with Madame Renee Coulter, dear. Remember what I said when we were dealing with your intrusive Women's Health Instructor?"
"What? You mean that bit about how knowledge is power?"
The smile on her Mother's face was almost frightening. "Yes, that bit. If I went to the trouble of collecting intelligence on that annoying Patricia Wilson, surely you don't think I'd let Renee Coulter slip away from me? Especially after that crap she pulled on you last summer? Trust me, Christie. You won't be the one dining on crow."
Mind, Body and Spirit Redux, Part 10
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Part 10 - Dance to the Magic
Christie sat in her darkened car watching the exodus from Madame Coulter's Dance School. She had purposely parked up the street from the studio so she wouldn't come to the notice of any of the departing students or their parents as they left the studio for home. She really did not want to be here, especially not for the reason that had brought her, but it didn't seem she had much choice. Thanks to fate - and Mrs. Pettis.
As she waited for the studio to empty, she recalled the meeting that her Mom and Christie'd had earlier that day with Cindy Pettis' Mom, Linda. Not surprisingly, Linda had not been very enthusiastic about the idea when they'd first broached it with her. She'd been hesitant to permit Cindy to return to Renee's school for the same reasons Christie hadn't wanted to return there. Surprise, surprise.
Ultimately, two factors had swayed the reluctant mother. First was Cindy's clear and fervent desire to continue learning to dance. When Linda had questioned her daughter directly, you could literally feel the hunger and need radiating off the young tween. Her face glowed, and her voice trembled as she'd tried to tell her Mother just how much she truly missed dancing. Cindy and Linda were both fighting back the tears at that point.
The second deciding factor for Mrs. Pettis had been Amanda's assurances that Christie would be there to protect Cindy and ensure she had fun learning. Did her Mother somehow magically influence the other woman? Christie tried to sense any such use of her Mother's power but got nothing for her efforts. Which most likely meant her Mom was just too good and too subtle for Christie's emerging abilities to detect, but darn, Mrs. Pettis had sure caved quickly! Like right after Amanda had said, "I promise, Linda. Christie will be there for your girl, just like she is at the dojang."
Sheesh, thanks loads, Mom. Now, all Christie had to figure out was how to make that happen. The main studio lights at the school winked out, confirming the first bit of Mother-provided intelligence. Carefully checking her surroundings, Christie slipped out of her car into the dark January evening and moved quickly to the school's main door. She found it locked, which she'd expected. If the spell Gran had taught her for getting around locks didn't work, she wouldn't have to do this tonight.
The darn spell worked. Christie entered quietly and closed the door behind her. She saw a light in the back, near where she remembered that Renee had her office. Another piece of intel confirmed - Renee typically stayed late on Tuesdays to get her billing and other paperwork done. She fervently hoped the additional information her Mom had uncovered was just as accurate and helpful.
Taking a deep breath, Christie strode toward the lighted office but stayed in the shadows initially to observe her quarry. She was working at her computer, so she had been turned away from the door. Concentrating hard, too, Christie saw. She resisted the urge to barge in, scaring the woman out of a few years' growth because that would only make the contrary woman more difficult.
Softly at first, and then more firmly, Christie knocked on the doorjamb and then called out, "Hi Renee," in as non-threatening a voice as she could manage. The woman still nearly jumped out of her chair, one hand reaching for her phone and the other for her heart.
"WHAT?!?" she yelped as she turned wide-open eyes toward her intruder. For a moment, Christie wondered if the old bat even recognized her. "YOU!!" she yelled. "What are you doing here? HOW are you in here? We're CLOSED! I know I LOCKED the doors! I'm calling the police. This is breaking and entering."
"Just stop, Renee. If I was going to hurt you or steal anything, I could have done it already. I just want to talk and give you a present." Christie kept her voice matter of fact and without emotion. "I'm not a threat. I just want to speak with you privately."
Renee's eyes narrowed as she considered. Christie could almost see her considering her options from escape (she'd have to go through Christie) to calling the police (assuming the girl couldn't stop her). Evidently, she'd concluded that neither option had much chance of success. "You want to talk," she said snidely. "And you have a present - for ME? I don't know whether to be curious or afraid. Very well, what do you want, Christie?"
"May I sit down?" Renee gave a snort but gestured her into the other chair in her office. "As to what I want, I know someone who has incredible potential and passion for dancing, who wants to come here to learn from you."
"I do have normal business hours for such things, girl. You could have just sent her and her parents to me. I'd even take a referral from YOU."
Christie chuckled softly at that. "Good one, Renee! I almost felt that zinger. No, this is a little more complicated than your usual new student. First, she's not new to ballet. She's already had several years of lessons. I've danced with her - just playing around stuff - but for her age? I think she's good. VERY good. Easily better than I was at her age, and she just loves to dance."
"I'm still not hearing any reason this could not have been handled through my standard procedures nor any reason I should have to listen to this from you.
"Well, as I said, it's complicated. You see, you know this student. She used to take lessons from you, but unfortunately for you AND her, you screwed the pooch on this one, Renee. You're only hearing about this now because I think she needs - I mean REALLY NEEDS - to dance. I'm the one who's trying to convince her and HER MOTHER to let her come back here for training."
"I have NO idea what you are talking about, and I have no more time to listen to your drivel. I want you to get out of here, right now!"
"No, I can't do that. I have to make this pitch, and you have to agree to it, including agreeing to this girl's Mom's conditions. Let me throw this in, Renee. Compared to me at age 11 or 12? This girl is incredible. I truly believe that we are talking about someone with the potential to be a principal dancer with a major company."
Interest lit the older woman's eyes, and she began to lean forward in her chair. "I'm still not hearing any reason why I'm dealing with you." Christie had never heard 'you' used as a filthy curse word before. That was really impressive.
"Her Mom wants assurances that you will help her excel and not berate her. Simply stated, her Mother doesn't trust you with her child. She's heard her daughter crying in her room after several of your 'motivational tirades.' Then she heard you tell all those girls how poorly they'd performed at the summer recital. Mom knows enough about dance to know that your sniping was NOT justified, and so she decided to pull her out of your school, or to use her words, 'your clutches.'"
"You stupid, stupid girl!" Renee exploded. "Sniping? Tirades? You don't know anything about high-level ballet at the professional level. That is how danseurs and ballerinas are trained! If they can't take constructive criticism, they can't be professionals!"
"Oh, garbage, Renee. That's just bull-something my Mom would wash my mouth out with soap for saying. These are NOT professional dancers! They're kids! Kids with a dream! Kids who think dancing looks pretty and like it might be fun! One kid in a hundred who walks through your door has a chance, a CHANCE of going pro. And do they? How many, Renee? How many of your kids have moved on to a higher-level school with a chance to dance professionally? How many?!"
The older woman practically sputtered in a fury. "I've had several - more than several, damn you! How dare you imply otherwise. I am the very best teacher in this entire STATE!"
Nodding calmly, Christie kept her gaze fixed on the now red-faced dance teacher. "I'll agree. Since I've been your student, you've had five students move on to one of the pipeline dance schools, with two of them currently under contract with a regional dance troupe. Do you know what they all have in common, Renee?"
"They were trained to excellence by ME, damn you, here in MY studio, girl!"
Shaking her head, Christie snorted a laugh. "I suppose that's true, but what I was getting at, Renee is that all five were guys. Danseurs Noble. As far as I can tell, and I looked, not one of your girls has moved up in the last ten years. I like to think I might have, but my recent growth spurt makes that unlikely. All these little girls, Renee, coming to your school dreaming of tutus, dancing en pointe and flying, and not one professional ballerina on your resume. Why is that?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about, and I don't concede your statement on ballerinas. I'll have to check my own records."
"You do that. Okay, I have a question for you then. Did you start studying dance because someone was constantly yelling at you, telling you how badly you were doing? Or did you start for the reasons I said earlier? Because you wanted to be beautiful and have fun, to find joy in the dance? Tell me, Renee, I've always wondered what motivated you."
"When I was a girl, we all did dance in school. I liked it and did particularly well, so I was sent to a state school for the performing arts where I received intensive training."
"How old, Renee? When you left home to go attend that school? And were the teachers you had there your role models for teaching?"
"Almost 14, and no - those instructors were too soft. They let the children get away with too much! I patterned my teaching after the Dance Mistress I had when I was with the Ballet de Opera national de Paris. She demanded excellence, as do I."
"And you will likely never get it because your attitude runs off girls who might have the potential to be more. There's no joy here, Renee. There's nothing to keep them coming back, so they don't. The Danseurs? I think that's a guy thing. Guys grow up with assholes for coaches and expect that kind of crap from their teachers. Just part of being a man," Christie said, growling in a pseudo guy voice. "The girls? They don't have that cultural bias. If you don't give them a reason to come back, to keep trying, they probably won't. If they don't come back, they won't move on, and girls who SHOULD be professional ballerinas aren't. So, where's the joy, Renee? Why the he should my friend come back here? If you're going to tear her down again and again as you did in the past!? That's not gonna happen, Renee!"
Myriad emotions flashed across the older woman's face. Tears glinted in her eyes but didn't fall. She nearly started to speak several times and didn't. Finally, she sat back in her chair and brought a hand up to her forehead as if soothing a headache. "All right. I'm a failure. I can't teach girls. You've made your position clear. I disagree, but there it is. NOW! That being the case, Why. Are. You. Here?!"
"Because Cindy Pettis wants to come back and study dance with you, but her mother won't let her."
"That is sad, but it still doesn't explain why you are here, girl, making me feel like a useless failure! I repeat! Why are YOU here?"
"I really want Cindy to dance, Renee. I've convinced her Mom to let her return to your school, but Mrs. Pettis has a condition. If we - that's you and me - can't agree to her condition, she won't sign off on the permission slip for Cindy to come back here."
"FINALLY," Renee snapped, slapping both palms down hard on her desktop. "And what is this unholy condition? Tell me so I can say no and get you the hell out of my office and my life!"
"I have to come back to class, too. I have to be here anytime Cindy is here, to keep you on the straight and narrow and to help her find that joy you don't know anything about."
"WHAT?!? Are you inSANE? You're going to be here? Like some kind of school monitor evaluating my every word? Interrupting my classes to tell me to be nicer? Have you lost your mind?"
"Put like that, you might think so. I sure wasn't all that pleased when Mrs. Pettis told me her condition, either. Look, Renee, I talked this over with my Mom. She told me about this old TV public service commercial that was supposed to keep drivers from speeding. Anyway, this guy was starting to speed, and this transparent police car appeared in front of him. The catchline was something like, 'When you feel the urge to speed, remember! The Phantom Police Car!' I'd sort of be like that - your phantom police car. You get the urge to say something bad or less than complimentary; you look over and see me in the room, pause for a breath, and find a nicer way to correct whatever set you off. Easy, huh?"
"Oh my yes," she intoned, sarcasm dripping from every word. "I will have this watcher in my studio, doing absolutely nothing but breathing down my neck all class long, and I have to accept that?"
Christie gave a shy little grin at that, "Well, Cindy isn't the only one missing dance. I know I'm not professional ballerina material. I'm too tall, too heavy and too muscular, but I still miss dancing and dance class. I'll take the same classes, so you'll get two tuitions out of this deal. Hey, I'll even let you use me to show what someone did wrong so you can gently correct them. 'See? You certainly don't want to look like HER?' How's that for fair? Your own private bad example."
"You'd look like a clown," Renee replied heavily. "And likely be a laughing stock."
"A little laughter won't hurt me," Christie said with a shrug, "And it might go a long way towards developing that joyous atmosphere we want."
Renee considered that for several minutes before she shook herself and then lanced a searing look at Christie. "I will call Mrs. Pettis tomorrow morning. If she confirms what you've told me, I will accept you and her daughter back on a trial basis. Let's say, four weeks to start. If I find that your presence detracts from my effectiveness as a teacher or my school's reputation - in any way - you're done. Are we agreed?"
"It works for me, Renee. Make sure you spell that out for Mrs. Pettis when you talk to her. My understanding is that if I'm gone, so's Cindy, and I think that would be a crime against dance."
"Understood. Now leave me in peace so I can do my work. I will call your Mother after I've spoken with Mrs. Pettis." Christie nodded, stood, and started to leave. "Oh, and Miss McKellar? I find I have a condition of my own." At the girl's raised eyebrow, Renee nodded and continued. "I insist upon being addressed as 'Madame Coulter' or simply 'Madame' from this point forward. Understood?"
Christie grinned. She'd expected that. "Understood. From this point forward, so long as I am your student, Madame. So long as I continue to be your student."
Renee watched Christie's retreating back and then shouted, "And make sure you lock the damned door behind you when you leave!"
Christie only giggled.
~-~
Mind, Body and Spirit Redux, Part 11A
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Part 11A - Danse Enchanteresse
Christie and Cindy had arranged to meet outside the studio so they could walk in together. While she waited, Christie hoisted her gear bag - her pink gear bag - up higher onto her shoulder. Initially, she'd intended to use her newer white gear bag and swap out her dojang gear for her dance stuff but had reconsidered. Having to swap her gear back and forth every day since she had dance class every day she didn't have karate class was just time-consuming and inefficient. Besides, she might inadvertently forget something she'd need later. THAT would just royally tick her off. Yes, having a different gear bag for each class commitment simply made good, basic sense.
Besides, on reflection, Christie had decided the pink didn't annoy her nearly as much as last summer. It was handy having two different bags - less chance of showing up at dance class with her dobok but without her dance shoes. That was a good thing. Besides, the pink went nicely with the color of her new dance leotard. Not that she'd chosen the outfit with that in mind. Honest!
She was saved from further self argument when Mrs. Pettis' car drove up to the curb. Cindy scrambled out as soon as the car had stopped, remembered herself and jumped back in to hug and kiss her Mom goodbye.
"I'll be back in an hour and a half. Just wait for me inside the lobby if you get done sooner than that. It will be dark when you're finished, and I don't want you out on the street in the dark."
"Yes, Momma," Cindy replied dutifully as she backed out of the car again. "Class is supposed to be two hours, so we shouldn't have a problem."
Linda Pettis shot a meaningful glance to Christie, who understood instantly. Mom was worried about them bailing on the class early. "We'll be fine, Mrs. Pettis," she replied to the unspoken command.
"All right then. Have fun, sweetie. Thanks, Christie, for being with her."
"I'm looking forward to it, but we need to hurry. We don't want to be late on our first night back, Cindy." Waving one last goodbye, the pair hurried into the school lobby. "Cindy, before we go in?"
"Yes, Christie?"
"Umm, look. I talked to Madame, and I think she will try to tone down the picky comments. She said she would try, but it's hard to change something like that overnight. We need to give her a chance. If she slips up and starts . . .umm. . ."
"Bitching, Christie?" Cindy offered with a helpful grin.
"Yeah, that, but I didn't say it! If she slips up, just smile and tell her, 'thank you for teaching me, Madame.' Just like you do with Sa Bum Nim at the dojang, okay? Only in English, not Korean. Hopefully, that'll remind her of her promise. Just don't get upset. Remember, this is Madame Coulter, and she is who she is."
"Got it, Christie. I'm just so happy to be back. I don't think you could pry the smile off my face with a crowbar."
~-~
Christie initially tried to keep herself in the center of anything or any group Madame organized throughout the class. She wanted to make sure the woman was ultra-aware of her presence so she'd remember why Christie was there. However, as the lesson progressed without any of the usual Madame Mad Tirades, she relaxed and enjoyed how her body stretched and moved in the dance exercises. Cindy was evidently not the only one who'd missed this.
In the last half hour of the class, Madame broke the students up into smaller groups to work on their Arabesque position and transitions. Each group had a more experienced student as group leader, helping the newer and younger students as they watched themselves in the studio wall mirrors. It was probably a little jab, but Christie had been the last 'senior student' assigned a group by Madame. She somehow looked relieved instead of giggling when Madame had selected her. That was Madame Renee Coulter at her best worst.
Several students were having trouble with the position, and of course, Madame had to 'correct them' "That's unac . . ." Her voice trailed off when Christie gave a little hop to catch her eye. "Unfortunate, ladies. I think you need to see another example. Christie, would you come up here, please?"
"Yes, Madame," Christie bubbled and dance-walked over to the stern-faced instructor.
"Take your position, please. Now, watch how the dancer shifts her weight and balance as she extends her leg behind and up." Christie decided to see if Madame would take her up on her offer to be the 'bad example' and did not get a full extension on her leg, nor did she raise it as high as she should have. "No, no, that's not it. That's exactly the problem these young ladies were having. Girls, note her trailing leg. It is not straight, nor is it extended as much as it should be. Notice that it is also lower than it should be because of that lack of extension. Now, Christie, try it again, please. Remember to extend yourself."
Christie returned to the starting position and moved smoothly into the Arabesque, achieving textbook form - for about five seconds. Maybe five seconds. Then she kept lifting her foot higher as if she was trying for more extension until she overbalanced and fell over onto her head.
A titter of nervous laughter flitted through the assembled girls but was quickly stifled when they remembered just whose school they were in. Christie rolled to her bottom, shaking her head as if to clear it. She looked up at Madame with a goofy look on her face and said. "Umm, I guess that wasn't what you had in mind, Madame?" And started giggling at herself. When Madame did not immediately reprimand her, the girls all started to laugh, too, and tremendous pressure was suddenly relieved in the room.
Madame let it go for a few moments before she shook her head sadly. "No, Christie, that really wasn't. Lisa? Perhaps you could come up here and teach Miss McKellar a proper arabesque? I saw you performing it quite nicely a few moments ago."
Wide-eyed at being called on AND complimented, Lisa hurried up to the front, curtsied and took up her ready position. This time, the demonstration went flawlessly, and the students applauded Lisa's performance. "We have about fifteen minutes left in class, ladies. Go back to your groups and work on your leg extensions. If you need help, raise your hand. Miss McKellar? Perhaps you should join Lisa's group? You evidently require remedial training."
Trying her very best not to smirk, Christie curtsied and followed Lisa to her group. "What the hell was that, Christie? The day you can't do a simple arabesque is the day I dance Sleeping Beauty in the nude at the Met."
"Ooo!" Christie cooed softly, "Let me know when you do! I want tickets! And I'll tell you tomorrow at lunch, okay? Too many little pitchers here." At Lisa's nod, the two girls went back to helping the other girls in the group, but not before Lisa and Christie made a big deal of her 'remedial' training, much to the amusement of all the other students.
"That's enough for today, ladies," Renee called out two minutes early. "See you next class. Miss McKellar, a minute of your time before you leave, please."
"Yes, Madame, I just have to make sure Cindy's Mom is waiting for her, and then I'll be right back?" At the instructor's nod, the two girls hurried to the door and found Linda Pettis waiting in the lobby.
"How was it?" She asked, caution evident in her tone.
"Oh, Mom, it was great fun. Christie fell on her head, though."
"What?!" Linda demanded in concern while clearly checking Christie over for damage.
"It was nothing," Christie assured with an easy smile. "I just overbalanced and ended up somersaulting onto my bottom. Everyone got a good giggle out of it."
"Did they indeed?" Linda asked thoughtfully. At Cindy's enthusiastic nod, she added, "I see. Well, Miss Cindy, we need to get home and finish making dinner. Thanks, Christie. See you soon."
Christie found Renee waiting near the hallway outside the studio office. "I take it that little exhibition is how you plan to get my attention in the future?"
"Well, it worked, and no one but you noticed. Nice catch, by the way. Unfortunate is much friendlier than unacceptable."
"Hmm, Yes, I suppose it is. And your little impromptu gymnastics demonstration? Was that in service to this joy you think my girls need?"
"That worked, too, and everyone seemed to really bear down afterward and work, so you didn't really lose any instructional time, but I think the kids might have gained from it."
"We will see, won't we. I rather expected more of a reaction from you when I called on Lisa to correct your misstep. As I recall, you two never got along."
"Oh, I wouldn't say we're pals now, but we get along. Matter of fact, she's been working with me outside of school on improving her endurance. She's been working very hard. She really wants to become a professional dancer. She might just be your first professional ballerina, Madame. I think she's got that kind of potential now that she's putting in the effort."
"I had noticed the improvement but hadn't realized you were behind it."
"Lisa's behind it, Madame. She's doing the real hard work; I'm just helping."
"Well, thank you for that. I will see that Lisa gets the extra attention she needs in class. I hope I can rely on you to see to her opportunities for this joy?" Christie just giggled and nodded. "Off with you, then. I still have leftover paperwork to finish that I didn't get done on Tuesday for some strange reason. Leave, now, before I remember why, girl!"
~-~
Tad Green was monumentally pissed off! There was just no other way to describe his crappy mood. Here he was, alone on another Saturday night with no date. He'd thought he had one on the hook for sure; all he'd needed was reel her in, and he would have been golden.
But NOOOO! He'd been shot down by a freaking junior varsity cheerleader who'd just got dumped by her asshole jock boyfriend. Tad hadn't had an actual date since before the end of the previous school year. What was up with that?! Hell, he was a great freaking catch! Damn good looks, money, his own car? He should have had girls asking HIM out, but every last girl he'd asked out in the past year had more or less told him to get lost! Some of those bitches hadn't even been very polite about it! Especially since Christie freaking McKellar had shot him down - in public, damn her - when he'd asked her to the Winter Ball.
This B.S. all came back to that McKellar bitch, didn't it? Ever since that rigged sparring bout last August at Young-Soo's place. She'd probably been spreading lies about him since then, too. Nothing else made a lick of sense. He should have more dates than he knew what to do with! Not that he really gave a shit about dating - as if! The only reason he cared - at all - about dates was that a guy sort of had to have dates to get laid. Girls were picky that way. He was getting damned tired of only getting it on with Merry Thumb and her four sisters.
And he was doing something about that little problem, now wasn't he? Damn straight. McKellar thinks she's safe now that she's got the damn football team on his case. She's probably been giving out free blowjobs to those jerkwads - starting with that asshole Breeder. Well, guess what. The freaking football season is over, bitch, and jocks have really short memories. Besides, he was back in training himself at a GOOD dojo that didn't waste his time on all that Eastern spiritual, philosophical psycho-babble. All these guys worried about was how to hit hard, hit fast and win, baby! That was Tad Green's kind of place, by God!
Once he got back in shape? Got his timing back? McKellar and Breeder were gonna pay. Big time. Oh yeah, they would.
~-~
Amanda arrived home and found her daughter heating up their wok, getting to make one of her yummy stir-fries. Just looking at the colorful array of julienne veggies waiting on the side made her mouth water. "How long till dinner, Christie?"
"Oh, hi, Mom. Ten minutes. The rice is just about done, and all of this is ready for the wok. Go get cleaned up. I'll just plate and serve directly to the breakfast bar."
Dinner tasted just as good as Amanda had hoped. Savoring her second bite of the spicy concoction, she was surprised to see Christie wasn't eating. She was just stirring the stir-fry around on her plate with her fork. Amanda frowned, "Something wrong with yours, honey? We could share mine. It's delicious!"
Christie gave her Mother a little, half-hearted smile. "It's fine, Mom. Just trying to sort something out in my mind. Here, I'll eat." And Christie forked up some rice and vegetables and began to eat.
For about three minutes anyway, and then Amanda could actually see her eyes turning inwards toward whatever problem was bothering her. Finishing her own meal, she removed Christie's plate, took it to the counter for wrapping and then slid it into the refrigerator. Her daughter hardly even noticed. Amanda decided a more direct Motherly intervention was called for. Stepping up beside her daughter, she clapped her hands together several times in front of her girl's face. Christie jumped and then stared up at her Mom in surprise.
"Family room, young lady. Talk time!" She ordered briskly. When Christie simply nodded and followed her without any attempt at a smart-mouthed remark? Yeah, Amanda thought. Definitely talk time.
Gesturing Christie to the sofa, Amanda took a seat in her favorite chair. "Okay, Miss, are you ready to communicate or do I need to break out the smelling salts?"
Grinning, Christie shook her head, "I'm good to go, Mom. No need to make my eyes water."
"So, tell me, oh darling daughter, why you prepared such a tasty dinner and then couldn't keep your mind on it sufficiently to bother eating it. Or notice when I stole your plate right out from underneath your nose. Inquiring Mothers want to know!"
Christie gave a soft giggle and then an even softer sigh. "I came up against one of my limitations today at dance class, and I didn't much like it. I've been trying to think what I might have or could have done differently."
"Sounds serious. I need details, girl. Give."
"You've been watching teenage soap operas on Netflix again, haven't you?" Christie accused teasingly. "Give, indeed. Okay, one of the senior girl dancers, Didi Lawrence, hurt herself today at class. She was attempting a double pirouette when she overbalanced and fell off her point. It went really wrong from there, and she came down badly, breaking at least one of the bones in her lower leg. Maybe both; I couldn't tell when I tried using Healer Sight on it. I did see she was bleeding quite badly inside her leg near the break. EMTs were called, but I went to her and tried to look like I was keeping her calm and still. She was crying pretty hard."
"Tried to look like? What were you doing, then?"
"I tried to push my healing energy into her."
"Oh, Christie," her Mother groaned.
"Yeah, I know. No healing without supervision, but the blasted leg...Mom, it was like it was calling to me. And I figured, hey, I know how to stop bleeding - did it on you, right? I thought if I at least controlled the bleeding, it would give them more time at the ER."
"And that's all you did?"
"Yes, but not for lack of trying. I got the bleeding stopped - I could see that, but figured, what the heck, I'll just keep pumping energy in. Ought to do some good."
"Only it didn't, did it?"
"Not that I could see. I finally quit when I felt myself getting down towards empty on my energy reserves. I just wanted to help - so badly!"
"Honey, without the fine control, the clear sight, healing energy is just energy. Think of hammers. The one that a jewel smith uses when cutting a fine diamond is small, precise and very accurate. The sledgehammer that an 1800s railroad worker used was still a hammer, but big and only as precise and accurate as necessary. That's the difference between properly controlled and applied healing energy and plain energy. You could stop the bleeding - on this girl and me - because you could see what had to be done. Anything more was just . . .oh, I don't know, waste heat?"
"Yeah, I kinda figured that out when nothing more seemed to happen after I stopped the hemorrhaging. The EMTs took her off, and Madame called the parents. I'm just bummed I couldn't do more. I was RIGHT there, darn it."
"Sounds like you might have a healing vocation if you're drawn to it that strongly," Amanda observed carefully.
Nodding her head, "I have to agree. Guess I'm gonna be a healer when I grow up, Mom," Christie said, a lopsided grin on her tired face.
"Darling," Amanda said softly, "I'm fairly sure we've discussed this before, but Gran and I have gone through all our available family records and journals. Every single one we have or could find in one of the sorcerers' libraries. So far as we've determined, healing is a female-only trait in our family. We've found no record or even a hint of a male McKellar healer. If Charlie wants to become a healer, he will need to go to medical school and become a doctor. Being a sorcerer will still be useful in that role - there's a great deal you can do with the magic that can help ease suffering. Off the top of my head, you'd be able to summon any instrument or drug you needed. Or you could facilitate rapid transportation to a medical facility if necessary. That is still healing, but . ."
"But not what I had in mind. Yeah, I get that. I will need to do some tough thinking about all that, Mom. But not tonight. I'm pooped. I'll see you in the morning, okay?"
"What about your dinner?" Mother's Voice (TM) demanded.
"Just not hungry, Mom. Later."
Amanda watched her daughter ascend the stairs and thought about the stir fry. Smiling brightly, she said,
"Well, Amanda? Heart to Heart talks like that one always gives me an appetite. How about seconds?" Then, she answered herself, "Why, thank you, Amanda. Don't mind if I do. Christie's cooking tonight was just delish!"
~-~
Mind, Body and Spirit Redux, Part 11B
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Part 11B - Tad Schemes Bad Dreams
Christie was already warmed up and loose when she saw Valerie come out of the ladies' dressing room dressed in her dobok and carrying her sparring gear over her shoulder. She dropped her bag next to Christie's and began her own warmup routine. At last Saturday's class, the Kims had announced that both girls would be testing for their 5th Geup Blue Stripe Belt today.
As Val finished her warmup, she gave Christie a questioning look. "You know, I didn't say anything then, but when they announced who could test this week? You looked almost surprised. Why? You work more and harder than anyone else in the school. If I'm ready, and I really believe I am, you must be over-prepared for this test. Why the surprise, girlfriend?"
Christie snorted out a laugh. "Would you believe that until that very moment, I'd forgotten all about the planned test day this month? With school starting back up after winter break and all those new classes? Add on going back to ballet school so I can keep an eye out for Cindy and then this McKellar Family Legacy my Mom's got me working on?0 I hadn't given my next belt a thought. I actually check if f I had enough training hours recorded to qualify for the test because I'm right on the bare minimum of time as a 6th Green by the Federation standards."
"That's right, isn't it? You got your last belt back in October. Still, there shouldn't be any doubt you're ready. Are the Federation people coming down that hard on the Time in Rank numbers now?"
"I think Young-Soo had to do some mighty fast-talking back in August when Grandfather had me jumping up three ranks to 7th Green with barely two months total time in the dojang. I'm glad to be testing today, but I wasn't too sure the last time I thought about it, sometime over winter break. I forgot to ask about it when training started back up."
"How's the Mad-woman of Ballet watch thing going, anyway?" Valerie teased as she went to get her water bottle.
"Actually, she's been pretty good. Oh, she still has her little episodes, but not nearly as often and so far? I've managed to do something silly to bring her up short. Then she's stuck trying to figure out how to chew me out without appearing to that she sorta forgets to yell at the other dancers. The girls have figured that out, and they're watching for it now. Rene almost cracked a smile yesterday. Of course, I'd just flopped inelegantly on my face 'trying,'" and here Christie made the 'air quote' finger movements, "To do an arabesque, but it was darned close to smiling. I'll get her yet!"
"Why do I believe you will? Oh, I know! Because you're insane, that's why! Oops, here come the judges. Guess we're almost ready to get started. Oh, look, there's your Mom and Gran." Val pointed them out as they entered the studio heading for the audience area.
Christie spun to look, smiled and waved. Then her hand abruptly dropped, and her whole body went tense. "Christie, what . . .?" Val asked before she also saw Tad Green strutting into the dojang as if he owned the place. However, instead of heading for the seating, Tad stopped just inside the doorway and scanned the dojang until he found Christie. Grinning broadly, he pointed his index finger at her as if aiming a pistol and then blew on the tip as if he was clearing away the gun smoke. Then he winked and meandered over to the edge of the crowd. "Oh, shit," Val breathed.
"Ignore him," Christie growled. "What's he going to do? Jump me during the sparring? He can't come after me here. There are too many people here who remember him and would also happily kick his ass sideways for him."
"I don't like it!" Valerie said. "Wait here while I make sure Young-Soo knows he's here. He has no freaking business here."
"Val? Just don't, okay? The Kims have always made Test Days an open exhibition as a recruiting thing. As long as he behaves, I don't think there's anything they can do."
"There's behaving, and then there's Tad. You can't use 'behave' and 'Tad Green' in the same sentence without a negative."
"Just let it go, Val. Take care of business, pass your test, and that will have to be enough for now, okay."
"You're sure?" She asked quietly. At Christie's emphatic nod, Valerie sighed. "Okay, we'll do it your way, but the first time he steps out of line, I'm throwing his ass out of here. It'll help develop that killer instinct you keep saying I need."
Christie smiled and turned her back on Tad. She had work to do today, and he had no place in her world.
~-~
As Valerie had observed before the testing had begun, there was 'behaving,' and then there was Tad. While the Kims did not expect their spectators to be silent, a certain air of respect was the norm. Parents cheered and applauded their kids' performances but were always careful not to distract other students involved in other testing activities.
Valerie didn't know who Tad thought he was cheering for - well, make that 'screeching for .'However, it seemed that any performance he decided was cheer-worthy happened just as Christie was centering herself, or beginning a technique demonstration. Tad's 'cheers' had distracted Christie enough, no fewer than three times of which Valerie was confident. Every time, Christie needed to step back from what she was doing, reset herself, and then start the required move from scratch. Each such hesitation or stop/restart should have been a scoring deduction counted, unfairly in Val's mind, against Christie's final demonstrations grade.
The individual demonstrations weren't that big a deal at this level. Christie was just too good at them in general that a few stupid deductions would make any significant difference in her grade for that test element. However, that might not be the case for the formal Poomsae part of the test. As for the sparring? If that asshole managed to distract her, then? Someone would very likely get hurt.
Valerie had finished her individual demonstrations well before Christie had finished hers. Tad-hole couldn't go after them both as that would have been too obvious, but she decided she had to clue at least one of the black belts in on what she thought was happening. Taking a quick scan, she saw Donnie standing off the side of the mat, evidently finished with his assigned students. Perfect. She scurried over to the muscular MMA candidate to have a few quick words to the wise.
~-~
Donnie wasn't one of the assigned judges for the Formal Poomsae Test, but he made sure he had a good perspective on the mat and on the audience as it began. There were six students in the Green and Blue Belt test categories, and they were performing as a group. To the casual spectator, they looked like they were doing all right. However, to the experts judging them, all of the candidates were missing their moves. Moreover, they couldn't seem to stay in sync with one another. These were all skilled young karatekas who had repeatedly performed these required forms to a high standard just to be invited to test today.
Knowing what Valerie had told him, he kept looking back at the audience, looking for.... .something.
And then he saw it. That little turd, Tad Green, had gotten a bunch of little kids together, and they were stamping their feet rhythmically. One small problem, though. Their cadence had almost precisely the wrong rhythm for the ordered Poomsae. Green had been a student here long enough to know the standard beat and count the Kims taught their students to use when performing various Poomsae. Hell, if you asked the guys and gals out there on the mat if they heard that sound, they probably would tell you that they hadn't heard a thing out of the norm. But they sure as hell were aware of Tad disrupting their cadence; Donnie was sure now. Most of the missteps were due to the counterbeat Tad was orchestrating. For the students, it was like trying to march in step with the drummer's cadence when the drummer was freestyling.
Donnie had seen and heard enough. Grandfather wasn't doing anything right now, and this was serious. You just didn't mess with someone like this. Not when they were performing high-level Taekwondo kicks and strikes.
~-~
"You are indeed correct, Jeja Donnie," the old man said as he stood just off the mat where the Greens and Blues were finishing their Poomsae element. I can indeed sense the irregular vibrations you described. Unfortunately, it is too late to do anything for the students who just completed their forms."
"But, Grandfather. According to Valerie Stevens, he was pulling crap like that while Christie was trying to do her technique demonstrations! Christie had to stop and restart her demos several times. I'm worried that he has something like that planned for the sparring bouts. There's not a lot of room for error when you're sparring. One slip or misstep and a scoring tap can become a hammer blow. Remember what happened to Greg when Christie was sparring with him a few weeks ago? That punk's got a grudge against Christie because she wouldn't date him and because he embarrassed himself during that bout against her last summer. He's been messing with her all morning, Sa Bum Nim, and I'm afraid she might get hurt or hurt her opponent if we don't stop his crap right now!"
~-~
Valerie, Donnie and Grandfather were not the only ones who had observed Tad's little ploys. There were two very irate sorceresses in the audience. Amanda, in particular, had eight years of experience watching first Charlie and then Christie taking these tests. Those hesitations and start/stops in the demonstrations? She'd never seen that from her child! And now? Her graceful, ballet-trained daughter couldn't keep in step with the other students? It hadn't taken her long to figure out the problem, and Momma Bear had her hackles up and her claws and fangs ready!
Rebekah wasn't pleased either, and they were currently embroiled in their own private battles with long-held ethical standards. "Mother, I am this damned close to making that little bastard testosterone intolerant. I'm so angry; they'd have to cut his balls off to save his worthless life!"
"I know, Amanda. I've had a few fiery fantasies of my own since I figured out what he's up to, but you know we can't do either."
"I know, I know, it violates the blasted code. Wait here and keep an eye on the son of a bitch. I'll be back in a few minutes."
"AMANDA!" Rebekah said sternly, worried she might try something while her Mother wasn't looking. Rebekah knew she would have thought hard about it had this been her child being messed with.
"I'm just going to make a phone call or two, Mother. By this time next week, I'm going to know all there is to know about one Mr. Tad Green, his immediate family, his un-immediate family and any miscellaneous hangers-on in their vicinity. That little bastard just declared war on my family, and I'm going to get all the ammunition I need to destroy him! But if he does anything that results in Christie getting hurt out there? He'd better give his soul to God because I will have his ass!"
~-~
Tad was quietly gloating over the success of his scheme. Ever since he'd heard McKellar was testing for the same belt he'd EARNED in this damn dojang, he'd been planning for this. It was going even better than he'd hoped. Those little hops and skips she'd had in the demos were one thing. Losing sync and moving like a pregnant hippo on ice during the Poomsae was a whole other level of bad! Now, if things went as he'd planned for the sparring, maybe he'd get really lucky, and she'd lose a few teeth. Mess up that pretty face a bit. That would be cool. Well, a guy could only hope.
Tad listened for the announcement calling the participants for the first round of sparring. Christie and Valerie Stevens. Wow, a twofer! Maybe both of them would come to school Monday with black eyes and missing teeth. Man, was he on a roll, or what?!
Tad began to move to the portion of the spectator area closest to where Christie's bout would be held when a hand came down on the side of his neck and shoulder from behind.
~-~
Tad tried to turn to see who was behind him, but the hand gripping his neck muscle blocked him. Straining to turn his head, he was surprised to see Grandfather Kim alongside Donnie Colt. God, that guy was even scarier than Tad remembered.
"Why, hello, former Jeja Tad," Grandfather said amiably. "If we'd known you planned to attend our exhibition today, we would have made special arrangements."
"Yeah, just to make sure you couldn't interfere with the proceedings. Oh, well." Donnie sounded almost sad.
Tad tried to squirm from under the grip Grandfather now had on his trapezius muscle and its associated nerve bundle, but that hurt, so he stopped. "I haven't done anything," he offered, trying to gain time to think of what the heck to do next.
"Ah, but former Jeja Tad, Donnie, you and I all know that is simply not true, don't we. Your SO enthusiastic cheering and you're. . .minding of the children - that little marching exercise was quite well done. I am sure that most parents appreciated you diverting their little ones."
"See? Told you I didn't do anything. Just helping out, you know?"
"Yeah, you've been real helpful," Donnie growled. "Now, what say we take a little walk outside where we can discuss just how much we appreciate your efforts?"
"No, Donnie, I'd just as soon stay here. Free exhibition and all that. Want to watch the sparring, ya know?"
Grandfather shook his head sadly and sighed. "Did you know, former Jeja Tad, that I have spent many years perfecting my version of the Vulcan Nerve Pinch? Ever since I first saw it on the original Star Trek show. Now, I haven't gotten it down quite yet. People only pass out about half the time I try it. On the other hand, I am assured that the pain can be so intense that my subject can hardly breathe, let alone speak." Suddenly, the grip on his neck tightened, nearly causing Tad's knees to buckle before easing up again. "You will accompany us outside, former Jeja Tadd. The easy way or the hard way. Your choice. Choose! NOW!"
Moments later, they were through the lobby and out the front door of the dojang's storefront. Grandfather gave Tad's neck another 'little squeeze' before roughly shoving the husky boy away. "The next time, Tad Green, you come to my family's place of business and try to harm or even inconvenience my students, it will not go well for you. Now leave."
"I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING!" Tad shouted as he tried to recover some of his tattered dignity.
"Bull, punk," and Donnie stepped directly between Tad and Grandfather, his hands fisted at his hips. "Now, let me take this one step further, asshole. If I EVER see your sorry butt around here again? You and me? We're going to go out back and have words. I SAW what you did to Christie in there, okay? I KNOW what you were pulling in there. I DID NOT LIKE IT! And I like you even less. You should leave -NOW - before Christie finishes her sparring and decides to deal with your stupid crap herself."
It was just too much, Tad thought. This . . .this THUG was threatening HIM? He was a freaking GREEN, for God's sake. Impulse became action before Tad's mind engaged, and he did something idiotic. He threw an open hand palm strike into Donnie's chest with all his strength.
Donnie didn't move or flinch. He laughed. "That all you got, punk? It's no freakin' wonder Christie wiped the mat with your sorry ass when she was just a white belt! You really need to be gone. NOW!" Donnie took one menacing step as if to close the distance between them, and Tad was off, sprinting down the street.
"Are you all right, Jeja Donnie?" Grandfather asked as Donnie turned to head back into the dojang.
"Ahhh, it was nothing. I'd have said the little prick hits like a girl, but Christie hits lots harder than that. Grandfather? Are we going to have trouble when the black belts meet for deliberations on advancement?"
"I don't think so, but it will come down to how well Christie spars. I have something special in mind for her."
"God, Grandfather! Not me! Please!"
"Oh, my no, Jeja. However, I suspect Jeja Christie might prefer to see you as her opponent. Come along. We don't want to miss this."
~-~
Christie's bout with Val was coming to its formal end when they got back in the main studio in time for them to bow to the judges.
There were several other bouts before Christie would be called for her second, so Grandfather went to speak to the fighter he'd chosen for her next opponent. She would need to make sure she was adequately warmed up to face his Jeja Christie, especially today.
~-~
Valerie and Christie were cooling out and hydrating after the bout. Christie was satisfied with her performance, and she was confident that she'd helped show her friend to her best advantage. "Good bout, Val," she said as she bounced gently on her toes to stay loose.
"You, too, girl. Looks like Donnie and Grandfather did something about Tad, thank heaven. I don't know what he had planned for when you sparred, but I was really scared you or your opponent would get hurt."
"Huh? What are you talking about? What could he possibly do?"
"Don't know! But after the stunts he pulled during your demos and the Poomsae? I don't think I want to know."
"What?" Christie thought her friend was having delusions. Until Val explained about Tad's little cheering ploy. "Really? I don't know that I heard him, but I seemed to get off on the wrong foot or something. I guess I see how he could have, but during the Poomsae?"
"Again, I'm not sure what happened, but be honest here. When was the last time you couldn't keep step and time on a Poomsae demonstration? C'mon, Christie, it's like dancing!"
"Well, something was sure messing me up. I felt like I was trying to dance the Waltz of the Flowers while someone played heavy metal rap in the background instead of Tchaikovsky. God, I felt so . . .awkward out there."
"That's what I mean! I did, too, but not quite as much as you. At least we aced that sparring bout, partner. I think I've got a match with the other green belt in our test group. You know who you've got?"
"Not yet. The bout sheet said 'TBD .'I'm hoping it will be someone who will really stretch me because I really think I need a good grade if I want to advance this time."
"Attention, please!" Grandfather's voice came over the studio announcing system. Second-round test bouts will start in five minutes. Participants should ensure they are adequately warmed up and loose."
"And, I still don't know who I'm fighting. Guess Grandfather is playing his games again."
"Better you than me, Chris. Oh, wait, he's got the mike again."
"Attention, please. Our first second-round bout will be a standard five-minute, three-point competition match. I will be the assigned Joo Sim. Master Kim, Young-Soo and Donnie Colt will be the scoring judges. Christie McKellar and Kim Eun Ae to the center mat, please."
"Oh, crap! I've got to fight Eunice again?" Christie sighed. "Darn it, I haven't finished making up with her for beating up Greg when he wouldn't try hard against me."
"Well, good luck. Good thing this isn't theatre. As I understand, they tell each other to break a leg. I'm not sure Eunice isn't more than ready to help you with that. So, try to come out in one piece, okay."
"Thanks, loads, Stevens. Well, see you when I wake up."
~-~
Tad stopped running when he realized Donnie hadn't meant to chase him. Is that all he had?! Damned street rat! Well, Tad Green wasn't going to take it. If he hadn't already had enough reasons to concentrate on his fighting arts, that thug had just given him a ton more motivation. He was going to bust his ass and get REALLY good! BETTER than good, and then he'd take Donnie freaking Colt 'outback and have words.' Only it would be Tad freaking Green doing the talking and Donnie asshole doing the listening - as long as he stayed conscious!
Yeah, that was a plan he could get behind. It was too bad he hadn't gotten to spring his last little surprise on the McKellar bitch while she was sparring. That would have been epic. Now that he wasn't there to show them all just how inept that skank really was, the Kims would just cave and give her the damned belt regardless of how awful she'd been in the two earlier elements. The bitch just wasn't a fighter, and that was it. It was just another bit of proof of how rigged that damned bout had been last August.
So, now he had two, no, three people on his hit list. McKellar, her lezzie pal Stevens, and that street dealer punk Donnie Colt. All it would take is time, sweat and planning. Tad Green was gonna be ready, and they were gonna pay for what they'd done to him.
~-~
Christie thought they had to be getting close to the time limit, even as she countered another spinning back fist from Eunice. Dang, but that girl was fast and strong. They'd been at it hot and heavy since Grandfather's first 'Si Jak,' and surprisingly, Christie had held her own against Young-Soo's scary daughter. In fact, she'd just managed a clean point with a sidekick that came on the end of a three-move combination similar to what Greg had shown her. With however long they had left in the match, they were tied 2 - 2. The next point would win the match, or the bout would end in a time-limit draw.
The ending was sudden. Eunice feinted a bull rush attack as if she were trying to get in close for some body punches. For Christie, it was deja vu all over again. Christie countered with the same maneuver she'd used against Tad back in August. Just as she had then, she started a jump and rotation at the exact moment, ready to launch the jump 360 hook kick. Only Eunice was prepared for that technique and, in fact, had baited Christie into committing to the high flying, high-risk maneuver.
Eunice ducked beneath Christie's kick, grabbed her leg, and spun her flailing to the mat. Eunice used the throw's momentum to come up over Christie and unleashed a potentially devastating strike to her chest.
"GOMAN!" Grandfather ordered. The two fighters took their place at his side as he poled the judges. It was a mere formality as it had been well delivered, clean and hadn't been countered. All three judges scored the move a point for Eunice, so she won by a score of 3 - 2 just before time ran out in the match.
After the end of match formalities, the two girls walked off to get their gear and their water bottles.
"Wow, Christie," Eunice breathed, "You remember to eat your Wheaties today or what? That was a whole lot closer than that first bout."
Christie took a long drink of water before answering. "I think it's more that you aren't nearly as mad at me as you were back then."
Eunice giggled. "Hey, you'd just stomped all over my guy, McKellar. Had to take you down, ya know?"
"He wouldn't fight, darn it! I was trying to prove to Grandfather and Master Kim that I was good to go for the October belt test, and he was being all nice and sweet to the poor girl who had to fight him. I'd do it again, too! I felt dissed!"
"I hear you, Christie, and I'll talk to him about that. Still, you were a whole lot more focused this time yourself. Especially after fluffing your Poomsae like you did."
"That was Tad Green's doing," Val's voice came from behind him. "He was doing something to upset the rhythm we all use to keep together for those. I think Donnie and Grandfather had a little talk with him about it, too."
"Well, helluva performance out there sparring today, girl," Eunice told her. "I haven't had that tough a bout since the last time I took on Wilma. Oops, Dad's waving to me. Later you two." And Eunice ran off to see Young-Soo.
~-~
The Kims, their instructors, and the outside black belts invited to assist in the testing adjourned to the small studios to deliberate. As usual, Grandfather assumed the role of de facto jury foreman for the proceedings.
"Very well, then, we all agree that all the students testing for yellow and green belts will advance. Master Lee, you indicated you had some issues to discuss regarding the students testing for the blue and blue stripe belts.
Master Lee, a long-time friend of Master Kim, ran a school on the other side of the state. He routinely helped with the test days at Young-Soo's school and reciprocated when Master Lee needed additional senior judges. "Thank you, Grand Master. I conducted the demonstration test for Christie McKellar. She performed adequately, with only a few minor deductions, but that was followed by that less than fully satisfactory group Poomsae exhibition. I must say that having seen that, I was rather surprised at how well she sparred, especially against Master Young-Soo's daughter, who I know to be excellent."
"Master Lee," Donnie put in, "I must tell you that there were extenuating circumstances around those two performances. One of the reasons Miss McKellar sparred so well was that action was taken to remove those circumstances."
"Extenuating circumstances? How so? I saw nothing that would interfere with our normal process."
Grandfather sighed, and a pained look flashed across his face. "A former student of our school has a grudge against Jeja McKellar. The deductions in her skills demonstration came when that individual screamed instead of cheering, breaking Jeja's concentration. This is very outside the normal experience for such tests. As to the Poomsae, that was even more insidious. Jeja Christie came to us from the local ballet school. Until a growth spurt derailed her, she had spent more than 8 years training intensively to be a ballerina. My family saw her perform and she was very skilled, very elegant. Unfortunately, that worked to her disadvantage today."
"How so? I do not understand. I would think such training would shine in the standard forms element."
"The guy Grandfather told you about got a group of kids together from the audience and had them stamping their feet to the wrong cadence," Donnie growled. "Christie is sensitive to beats and rhythms, which threw her timing off. A couple of the other kids got messed up, too. There were more slip-ups in that performance than there have been in the last three months combined."
Master Lee looked from Donnie to Master Kim and then to Grandfather. "And this is true?" Grandfather nodded slowly. "Then, based on her performance in the sparring, I withdraw my issue about her advancement."
"Thank you, Master Lee," Young-Soo said. "And I also was surprised by her sparring performance as the first time she sparred with my daughter, Eun Ae defeated her fairly handily."
"Eunice cleaned her clock for her," Wilma Davis said, smiling.
"In any case," Young-Soo said sternly to regain control, "I asked my daughter, and she assured me that she in no way took it easy with Jeja Christie. In fact, she was getting a little concerned before she managed to decoy her into that last move. Christie has used that move before quite effectively."
"For all that, the kick was well executed. Eun Ae was just prepared, and her counter was effective. I vote for Miss McKellar to advance."
Everyone agreed, and the meeting broke up shortly after that.
~-~
Mind, Body and Spirit Redux, Part 12
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Part 12 - The First Last?
Christie hopped out of her car, hoisted her gear bag onto her shoulder, and began walking the rest of the way to the Kim Dojang. Her 4th Geup Blue Belt test was scheduled for today, and she was quietly confident she would not have any problems passing today's tests. She'd already completed the prescribed fitness and the terminology, concepts and history tests to the instructors' satisfaction. Otherwise, she would not have been invited to participate in today's test session. All she had left to do today would be the usual technique demonstrations, the performance of the required Poomsae and the sparring.
Christie wasn't sure what had happened; her body had begun performing the moves she saw in her mind much more naturally over the past few months. Ever since she'd cut loose in that test bout against Eunice, it was as if some blockage had been removed between her extremities and her brain. Her body just remembered how to do things again.
In fact, after last Thursday's class, she'd gone into one of the small studios with Grandfather Kim and performed the Koryo Poomsae. Not just completed it, but she had done it well enough that Grandfather had said she'd have passed a test! That was without Christie having received any formal instruction at the dojang. That Poomsae was a 2nd Red Belt requirement in the Kims' school.
After her Koryo exhibition, Grandfather had tested her on some of the more advanced techniques, including several that a 5th Geup Blue Stripe had no business knowing. She wasn't quite as good at those moves as Charlie had been, but she'd done them well enough to pass a 3rd or 2nd Geup demonstration test.
Christie had spent a good deal of time considering what that meant over the past couple of days. On the one hand, she knew she wasn't going to actually test for either belt anytime soon. Those higher-ranked belts each required six months or 108 training hours before a candidate could try for advancement. Her test today would be based on training hours because she was still a couple weeks short of the three-month standard as a 5th Blue. Testing for the higher-level red belts was a whole different animal. If she didn't adhere to all the established criteria for those advancements, the Kims would face some difficult questions regarding their program.
On the other hand, that didn't really matter to her now in the grand scheme of things. Christie knew what she could do, and that was enough for her. She wouldn't be testing again until well after her June birthday. If Charlie came back then, he'd likely be a 1st Dan Black Belt, the same as Donnie Colt was now. Otherwise, it didn't matter. She'd test when it was expected of her, probably early fall, which would be perfectly acceptable. As she'd told her Mother and Grandfather, she didn't dance or practice Taekwondo for recognition. She did both for the art and her art, thank you very much, was just fine, regardless of what color belt she wore.
She walked into the dojang and was surprised to find Donnie Colt in the lobby, leaning against the shoe lockers, obviously watching the door. She wondered what that was all about since he was sporting a muscle shirt, basketball shorts and cross-trainers instead of his black belt and dobok.
"Hey, Donnie!" She said as she stowed her shoes. "What's up? Aren't you helping with the testing today?"
A slow, wicked grin lit the young man's face. "Nah, today is a pretty small test group - mostly intermediate and higher-level candidates, so Master Kim called in a couple of his pals to help. Grandfather asked me to wait out here in case we get any unexpected guests? I'm supposed to escort any such dignitaries to their reserved locations and ensure they receive every consideration they deserve."
All Christie could think was 'Huh?', but then she remembered her previous test day. Okay, she thought. Now Donnie's presence in the lobby and his apparent glee at this assignment clicked. "You're here for Tad, aren't you? Surely he wouldn't be THAT dumb, would he?"
"There's dumb, there's incurably stupid, and then there's Tad, girl. He's been going over to the Ready to Rumble Dojo for a while. I've heard that he's been shooting his mouth off about how much better it is there than here and how much tougher he is since he started working there. Let me just say he's NOT pulling any of that shi. . .crap today he tried last test day! You got my word on it, Christie." Donnie told her earnestly.
Christie thought about that a moment and then smiled. Sauntering over to the muscular young man, she went up on her tip-toes and planted a kiss on Donnie's cheek. "Thanks, Donnie. I appreciate the thought. Just don't get in too much trouble, okay? Oh, and I won't even tell Tracy you let me kiss you. See ya at the party, big fella!"
~-~
Christie recognized the 6th Dan black belt, who conducted her technique demonstration tests. He'd done her demo tests the previous January, too. She blushed as she recalled her less than perfect performance and took her position, determined to do better this time.
After the first ordered movement, Christie slipped into 'the zone.' Master Lee would order a technique or a combination of techniques, order 'Si Jak!' And Christie simply flowed into the ordered movements. She was not aware of how long she'd been performing when Master Lee called her back to attention. She bowed, and he returned it, somewhat more formally than Christie had expected.
"Jeja McKellar, I must tell you that I specifically asked to be your tester today. I was not impressed with your performance during your 5th Blue test last January. I was told that someone was interfering with your concentration, but I was still concerned to see you testing again so soon after the last. I must tell you this was an excellent performance. In fact, I'm not sure you are aware, but the last half dozen or so techniques I ordered were red belt requirements. Very well done, Jeja. You are dismissed."
The master walked away then, leaving a rather surprised student behind.
Although more complex than the ones specified for her earlier tests, these required Poomsae were less challenging than the Koryo. She walked off the mat, sure she'd nailed it.
Her first sparring match was with a 3rd Geup Red Stripe Belt who was testing for his 2nd Geup. Christie didn't really know Dan Murdock all that well, as he usually took different class sessions than she did. Still, he seemed nice enough and was pretty easy on the eyes. He WASN'T all that easy on the mat, though. He was good! Maybe not quite in Eunice's class, but he definitely had skills and knew how to show them to the judges. Fortunately, he was very good at showcasing his opponent's abilities to the judges as well. Christie left the mat, feeling a little bruised where she'd blocked some of his kicks and strikes but feeling she'd done well enough to pass.
But her second bout? Grandfather had to be up to another of his tricks. Tracy Wilcox? She was supposed to fight a bloody black belt? Donnie's girlfriend? Christie stopped in her tracks and stared back out in the direction of the lobby. Tracy didn't know about that harmless little kiss, did she? Oh, damn, not another Eunice ass-kicking - not for a test bout! What the heck are you trying to do, Papa? Get me killed??!
Master Kim walked out onto the mat to take the role of Joo Sim (referee). Master Lee, Young-Soo and Wilma Davis would be the judging panel. Grandfather wasn't even going to get to vote, the old sneak!
What was it her Mom said in situations like this? Pull up your big girl panties and get on with it? Something like that. Taking a last deep breath, Christie walked out to center-mat and came to attention. What had she been telling herself on the walk here? That her body remembered how and this was about making art. Like Alexandra Owens in 'Flash Dance!' Just like Randall had said all those months ago in the dance studio. 'Don't think about it. Just do it.'
Master Kim called for the formal bows to the judges, himself and her opponent Tracy, and then ordered, "Si Jak!".
Just do it, indeed. Christie surrendered to her art and gave her body free rein. She flashed across the mat, closing in on her opponent swiftly, and delivered a strike, kick, strike combination that scored. As they returned to center-mat after poling the judges, Tracy gave Christie a slight smile and a nod. This fight was on!
Christie was actually surprised when Master Kim finally ordered, "GOMAN! Match over. Positions and Attention!" Master Lee stood as the head judge, bowed to Master Kim, and announced, "The bout is scored a four-to-four time limit draw." Then he bowed again and resumed his seat.
The end-of-match formalities were observed, and the two women walked off the mat together. The match ended four to four, Christie repeated in her head. She could hardly remember how she'd scored, let alone how Tracy had gotten any points on her.
"Holy Hell! What have you done with Christie McKellar? Who ARE you, and what rank are you REALLY?" Tracy demanded as soon as they were off the mat. When Christie didn't react to her jibe, Tracy snapped her fingers in front of the other girl's face. "Ah, I see now. You've been possessed by the ghost of some ancient Taekwondo Mistress. Great match, Christie. It was like I was fighting Wilma out there. What got into you?"
Christie shook her head, trying to clear it. "Umm, I thought you were going to kick my ass for kissing Donnie, so I just sort of decided to let it all hang out. I figured we'd have a mercy rule stoppage before you beat me up too much, and I wanted to be able to show SOMETHING to the black belts evaluating my test."
"Well, you sure as spit showed something to THIS black belt. . . Hey, wait a minute! You said you kissed Donnie??" After Christie hurriedly explained the kiss, Tracy laughed and nodded her head. "Well, that's okay, then. Wonder if he got to escort Tad?"
~-~
At the after-party, the crowd celebrated everyone's passing. Dan Murdock congratulated her on her advancement and her showing against Tracy. "I'm just glad you didn't go off on me like that! You were amazing out there."
Unhappy that Tad had been less stupid than he thought, Donnie stomped into the dojang. Barely two steps inside, he had his girlfriend cornering him, demanding to know about getting kissed by another girl? "CHRISTIE!!! HEELLLPPP!!!" he yelled, much to the amusement of both girls.
"Excellent bouts today, Jeja," Grandfather Kim said as he appeared from behind her. "I don't think Charlie could have done better."
"I was pretty sure I could bang with Dan, but when you sicced Tracy on me, I just decided to let go and last as long as possible."
"Master Lee was particularly impressed. He actually told me we should just wait the six months and give you your 3rd Geup. He'd already tested you for techniques required for that rank, and you obviously can spar at that level."
"Well, that was nice of him, but . ."
"Jeja. The words 'nice' and 'Master Lee' do not EVER belong in the same sentence. Not when it comes to the arts. Trust me, he does not joke about such matters. That is what he said; that is what he meant."
"Well, I'm glad I was able to show him that my performance last time was an anomaly."
"True, but poor Donnie didn't get to perform his usher duties. He was so disappointed."
"Bouncer duties, you mean, Papa Kim. C'mon. Let a girl treat you to a cupcake and cup of punch."
~-~
Mind, Body and Spirit Redux, Part 13
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Part 13 - Tad Snaps
Christie sighed. The final few moments of the last period of this early June school day seemed to be taking hours instead of minutes, and she HATED clock watching! The teacher was conducting review sessions since they'd finished the state's physics curriculum over a week ago. She had dredged up questions from previous years' final exams as graded review assignments. She covered a different core topic area in each class before handing out the associated question set. Christie had already finished today's review questions and checked her answers against the teacher's key. She was ready for the final, the only remaining course requirement. Her projects and papers in her other courses were also done and had already been turned in, so again, except for finals in a couple of different classes, Christie's junior year at Dolley Madison High was finished.
Tomorrow was the last Friday before Finals Week and the day of the DMHS Annual Last Dance. Unlike most school dances, this traditional and free party started early - at six pm. If the weather was clement, the dance would be held outside at the football stadium. The kids would be herded out at precisely nine o'clock and reminded that finals started promptly at 8 AM on Monday. Christie reflected that even Charlie, a regular non-attendee at most school dances, had enjoyed his first two of these parties, and she hoped to do likewise. Except Charlie hadn't had to deal with the specter of the increasingly annoying Tad getting in his face . . . her face.
Deciding that was tomorrow's problem, Christie gathered her bookbag when the bell FINALLY rang and scooted off to head for the dojang. She had already cleared out her locker, so she skipped that stop and just made her way to Valerie's locker. They'd walk together to the studio, take their regular Thursday lesson and then help with the current crop of white and yellow belts.
It was annoying, she thought not for the first time, that only seniors got the privilege of on-campus parking. Even though she had gotten her license earlier in the school year, suitable parking was not available near the school grounds. At least, nothing she considered safe for her beautiful BMW. She could have walked to the nearest protected parking facility and driven from there, but that would have taken her longer than just walking to the dojang from school. And, she didn't have to pay for parking.
Of course, that didn't solve her current 'Tad Problem.' Since their school administrators had put Tad on notice about pulling his crap on campus, the expediency of driving from the school parking lot would have avoided that annoyance. Maybe today, they'd get out and get gone before Tad could get in position to make another scene. And if not? She'd just have to keep ignoring him.
"Hey, girlfriend," Valerie called from down the hall, interrupting Christie's ruminations. "Ready to go show those boys how it's done? I feel like sparring today; how about you?"
"Oh, I think there's a couple of green belts who'd like to . . . uhm. . . spar and, shall we say, improve their mat technique? Hmmm?" Christie teased. Val had been cutting quite the swath through the dojang's teenage male students lately. Her work with Christie and her own successful blue belt test had done wonders for the girl's confidence and self-image. Last summer, Valerie had been reticent about getting down and dirty with the guys; now, she was eager to advance her skills in that aspect of the art. And since guys were usually bigger and stronger than she was, they were now her preferred opponents.
"Oh no! I've got my eye on our newly advanced red belt, Dan Murdock! That lad is going to buy me dinner when I beat him!"
"Does he know that, Val?"
"Probably not, but I won't break my hold and let him go until he yields dinner!" Valerie replied, giggling. That Daniel had six inches and fifty pounds on her never entered Val's mind. That sweet, shy lad was going to hers, and THAT was all there was to it!
The girls' light-hearted mood lasted about fifteen steps past the school property line. Tad Green, wearing a rival martial arts studio t-shirt, stepped out directly in front of the two girls, forcing them to come to an abrupt stop. "Ignore him," Christie ordered herself under her breath. "Come on, Val, we need to get to practice."
Christie and Valerie moved to step around the taller, heavier boy. Tad countered immediately, stepping back in front to block Christie. "No, McKellar, you need to stop and listen to me. I've had it with you and all the snide little whispers behind my back. Your damned mother turned her lawyer friends loose on my old man - some shit about 'a long and documented history of antisocial and inappropriate behavior,' so he's taken away my freakin' car! Old Man Kim has been bitching to the sensei at my new dojo and now I have to listen to and pretend I give a shit about that Eastern philosophical discipline bull again. Donnie Colt is out talking me down on the streets and threatening to kick my ass. And you! You and your bleached blonde buddy over there have impugned my honor and cost me even MORE cred. So, I've decided you're gonna damn well stop! Or else. Wanna know HOW you're gonna make all that happen, bitch??"
"Don't respond to him," Christie thought furiously, "Don't give him any opening! It will only get worse!"
Tad had maneuvered her up against the school fence. She had no way around him on her side of the walkway. Enough was enough. "Tad. Get. Out. Of. The. Way." She ordered softly, biting off each word. Tad only smiled nastily and shook his head.
"You aren't going anywhere until I say you can, McKellar. I've decided you're going to be my dance date tomorrow. You will go out of your way to be really polite and respectful to me! In front of everyone you two have been lying to about me. I want everyone there to see you answering to ME. After that, you're going to tell all your minions to stop their shit about me! I HAVE HAD IT!!"
The two girls outnumbered Tad, but that didn't mean anything in the tight confines of their current encounter. If they tried to fight, someone would get hurt, probably severely, which was simply unacceptable. It violated the code to which the students of her dojang adhered.
Christie saw only one way out of this that avoided violence. Stepping back from Tad, she deliberately moved into an obviously defensive stance and stared Tad down. A few moments later, she took another half step, moving closer to Valerie over on the roadside of the sidewalk. Her eyes still locked on Tad, Christie centered herself. She let her body go completely motionless, totally focusing on Tad and the threat he presented.
Tad recognised the danger Christie posed, but he just couldn't believe she would actually fight with him. This wasn't the dojang. There weren't rules out here on the street; no wimp-assed referee or pussy teacher to yell 'Kalyeo!' and save her sorry ass from his righteous ass-kicking. And dammit, she was just a girl! Sure, she was reasonably skilled, but so was he! Besides, HE was a guy! A solid and powerful guy!
But she had beaten him the last time they'd sparred at Kim's. Their standoff seemed to go on and on; for long - painfully long moments, and still she didn't break, didn't try to run away. She simply and calmly regarded him, almost smiling at him. Tad began to feel antsy; if this went south, he couldn't be the one to throw the first move. Even if the cops didn't get involved, he'd never live that down once it got out! And dammit, it would get out! No matter what he said, these bitches had cred with the other kids, and he didn't.
Without thought, Tad blinked, shifting his weight back ever so slightly. Christie immediately reacted to that minute retreat and exploded into action. "VAL, RUN! Head for the DOJANG!" She yelled, even as she dropped to her hands and tried to sweep Tad's forward leg out from under him. Then, without stopping the momentum of her leg, Christie spun in place and came up running into the road along the sidewalk, hot on Valerie's heels towards the safety of the Kim dojang.
Unfortunately for Christie, her move had only thrown Tad momentarily off-balance. It had not been enough to put Tad on the ground. He was up and running after her in mere seconds, and he was taller and faster than she was. He was also beyond enraged and irrational. "YOU BITCH!!" he screamed as he gave chase, fists clenched. "I am SO GOING TO FUCK YOU UP!"
Tad caught her before they'd gone an entire city block. He slammed Christie hard in the back, leading with his chest and wrapping his arms around her throat. Using his hold to spin them both one hundred eighty degrees, Tad tightened his hold as he turned.
Valerie had heard Christie's involuntary scream as she was hit and turned to see what had happened. She instantly recognized the hold Tad was cinching up on Christie. Sa Bum Nim had been teaching the girls some of the tenets of Jiu-Jitsu after their regular dojang classes on Saturdays. A jiu-jitsu rear-naked choke was more a sleeper hold than a chokehold. Rather than cutting off the victim's airway, the grip interfered with arterial blood flow to the brain. The human brain goes to sleep after five to ten seconds without oxygenated blood; longer than that, the brain might not wake up. Valerie raced to Christie's aid at a dead run, her mind frantically looking for her best hope counter, and came up blank. Tad was too big and too strong for her taekwondo techniques to work reliably. At the last second, she went 'full girl,' leaping onto his back and reaching around to rake his eyes with her nails.
Screaming in pain, Tad released his hold on Christie and drove his elbow into his attacker's torso. His strike caught Valerie hard on her ribs, cracking several and causing her to start to slide down off him. Tad followed the elbow strike with a back-fist. He might have intended that punch as another body blow. However, since Val was already falling, Tad's fist connected full force at her temple. Valerie collapsed, bonelessly, to the pavement without a sound.
With the pressure on her neck released, Christie immediately retaliated, driving a back elbow of her own into Tad's ribs just below his armpit. Breaking entirely free of Tad's hold, she lashed out with a back kick to Tad's knee, putting every iota of strength and focus she had into that strike. Tad's knee hyper-extended and then broke under the force of her kick, bending almost ninety degrees in the wrong direction beneath Christie's foot.
Spinning into a defensive stance facing her attacker, Christie took in the scene before her. Tad was on the ground, writhing and screaming, with his lower leg hanging loosely from his decimated knee joint. Valerie was lying in a heap where she fell. Her head was already showing severe bruising in the vicinity of her temple. Grabbing her phone in her left hand, Christie speed-dialed the police emergency number while she reached her right hand out to her friend's injury.
"911 Police Emergency, what is your emergency," a calm female voice asked authoritatively.
Christie took a quick breath, gathered her thoughts, and reported. "My friend and I were attacked on School Avenue, two blocks east of Dolley Madison High School. I need two ambulances and the police. My friend was struck in the head by our assailant. She is unconscious and nonresponsive."
"Police and emergency medical services are rolling, one and three minutes out from your location, respectively. Are you injured, and are you still in danger from the assailant?"
"I'm pretty bruised and banged up, but otherwise, I think I'm okay. The assailant is no longer a threat. He is currently down on the pavement, writhing in agony. The second requested ambulance is for his sorry ass."
"Acknowledged, scene. Stay on the line until Police and Rescue are on scene."
Christie didn't even reply; she simply speed-dialed the dojang. "Kim Young-Soo's Karate, how may I help you?"
Recognizing the 'middle Kim,' Christie almost sobbed in relief. "Master Kim, it's Christie. I need to speak to Grandfather! It's vital! Please!"
"Yes, Jeja, he's right here. Just a moment."
"Christie, what is it?" asked the calm voice of Papa Kim.
"Grandfather, Valerie and I were attacked by Tad Green while going to the dojang. I think Tad caught Valerie with a back fist to her temple area. Papa, my powers. . . I can feel . . . something bad in there, in her head, I mean. I put every bit of healing power I can muster into her, but I think all I'm doing is slowing down the damage. I'm just not strong enough for something like this. Please, call my Mom, and maybe she can do more."
"Where are you, Jeja?"
"Oh, sorry. About three blocks from the dojang, heading away from the high school on Dolley Madison Avenue."
"My son is calling your Mother. I'll be with you in a few minutes."
"Okay, . . . umm, thanks? Oh, I hear the sirens now. The police and the ambulances are coming. I did manage to call 911, but I suspect I'm in trouble there. I, uh, kinda hung up on the operator to call you after she told me to stay on the line."
Paramedics were moving Valerie onto a wheeled gurney when Grandfather arrived a few moments later. Two other paramedics examined Tad's leg and communicated with someone on a cell phone. A police officer was doing his best to calm a very emotional Christie McKellar. As he strode towards them, he saw the darkening shadow of bruising beginning around his student's throat. Clearing his throat to get their attention, Christie spun to see him and then leaped into his arms.
"Calm down, Jeja," Grandfather gently ordered. "Let me get a look at your neck. It's bruising. Rear-naked choke?"
Christie stepped back and let Papa Kim examine her. "He didn't quite get it locked on. I don't think he had his arms positioned correctly because I was still fairly clear-headed when he released me."
"Yes, the bruising pattern indicates he didn't have it applied correctly. Still, had he the time to adjust his hold even slightly, you'd have been in a bad way." Taking her hand in his, Grandfather turned to the officer. "My student may need medical help. I will take her to the emergency room."
The officer clearly did not like that plan. "We can have one of the EMTs check her here. If she's all right, she needs to wait for the on-scene detectives to make her statement."
Papa Kim gave a slightly enigmatic smile and gently reached out a hand to rest on the officer's shoulder. "She needs to be checked by a physician at the hospital."
The officer's formerly stern face went momentarily slack before snapping back alert. "She needs to be checked by a physician. At the hospital." Christie's eyes went wide when the officer suddenly caved to Grandfather's argument.
"You need me to drive her to the hospital," Papa Kim continued in the same soft tone. "Her Mother will meet us there, and Christie can give her statement to the detectives with her guardian present. She's a minor and can't be questioned without a representative."
"I need you to drive her to the hospital," the police officer directed. "Besides, she's underaged, and the law requires a parent or guardian to be present when minors are questioned by detectives."
The pair walked back to Grandfather's car without another word and got in.
"That was amazing. I couldn't feel what you did, Papa, but I saw the policeman's reaction to it."
"I did nothing, Jeja," he replied, his eyes twinkling. "He told us to go to the hospital."
"Right," Christie drawled. "Oh, you so did do something! I just don't know quite what. I know! You Jedi Mind-Tricked him, didn't you, Obi-Wan Kim-nobe?"
"Really, Christie? Kim-nobe?" Shaking his head ruefully, Grandfather pulled out into traffic.
"Besides, you aren't the droid they're looking for."
The silly exchange drew some of the tension out of the young girl. She put her head back on the headrest, closed her eyes and tried to relax. The post-fight or flight adrenaline crash was hitting her, too.
~-~
Amanda rushed into the curtained treatment area, where her child rested on the bed. "Mom!" Christie yelled as her Mother laid her hands on her arm. Christie felt the soothing warmth of her Mom's healing power flowing into her from the link between them.
"Thank God, there's nothing serious," Amanda breathed as she released her grip. "You're going to be sore, and I don't think swallowing will be pleasant for a while, but I cannot sense any sign of more serious physical damage."
"That confirms what the nurses told us," Grandfather Kim said from behind Amanda, where he'd been sitting. "Christie was examined by the ER triage team when we arrived at the hospital and then was quickly moved to this location to await a fuller doctor's examination. While her apparent injuries to and around her throat region were of concern, they did not appear immediately life-threatening, so the current priorities were Valerie and Tad."
"Mom!" Christie hissed out in a semi-whisper, "Val took a severe blow to the head, right on her temple! I could feel the damage, you know, with my gifts, but I wasn't strong enough to help her! I think I managed to slow down the damage, but that's all, and I'm not even sure of that. You have to HELP her! Please!"
Amanda pressed a hand to her forehead, closing her eyes as she focused her other senses. She could 'feel' Valerie's presence a couple of cubicles over. Amanda also sensed the frenzied thoughts of at least four other minds working frantically in the girl's immediate vicinity.
"There are too many people in there with her right now," she told her daughter sadly. "And you know I have to be able to lay hands on a subject to focus my limited healing abilities. I can't get close enough to her."
"Let Papa Kim help! He can use his mind whammy so you can get to her. Mom, she's my best friend. You have to save her! Please!"
"Darling, I don't think . . ."
"Amanda," Papa Kim interrupted gently, "I might be able to assist you in this. I have some skill in using qi, or perhaps as others call it, chi. Those medical professionals are entirely focused on young Valerie. I should be able to fog their peripheral senses so that we will not register on their conscious minds. Then you will be able to slip inside with her and do your laying of hands. The doctors will be momentarily focused elsewhere."
Looking at the elderly man in shock, Amanda momentarily sputtered and then blurted out, "What did you say? 'Fog their senses?' What are you? The second coming of Lamont Cranston? You mean can really do that??" At Grandfather's smiling nod, Amanda just stood - wanting to help her daughter's friend but not quite believing such a thing was possible. Finally, she shook herself and straightened her shoulders. "Oh, what the hell. The worst that will happen is they'll call Security and throw us out of the hospital. Okay, Papa, how do we do this?"
~-~
Grandfather Kim and Amanda were back in Christie's cubicle about ten minutes later. "That was just amazing. You know I'm a sorceress, and I might have been able to handle one or two of them covertly, but you did five! And they never stopped what they were doing. They just never 'saw' us."
"I am afraid that the Shadow's trademark laugh is beyond me, and there was certainly no evil in the hearts of those working on Valerie, so we will just leave it at that."
"Were you able to help her?" Christie demanded.
Amanda sighed and took her daughter's hand in hers. "I was able to stop the further spread of damage and stop the bleeding in her head. I was not able to repair what had already been damaged. Doing what I did wiped me out. I'm tapped magically, at least as far as more healing goes. She shouldn't get worse, but I don't know enough about brain injuries to know if she can heal herself. I can visit her when my power recovers and try to do more, but . . ."
"But, what, Momma?"
"I just don't know, dear. I'm okay with bones, muscles and blood vessels. That's how I stopped the bleeding from putting more pressure on Valerie's brain. I've never been very good with nerve-related injuries and diseases. I can 'sense' how those are supposed to 'fit' together and, for the most part, effect repairs on them. I don't know if I'm powerful enough to do that with something as complicated and interconnected as brain tissue."
"So, where does that leave us?"
"First, we need to hear what the doctors say about what they can and can't do. Then, we will see. Maybe another or a more powerful healer will be needed. Until we know what needs to be done, all we can do is help keep her from getting worse."
"Oh."
~-~
Mind, Body and Spirit Redux, Part 14
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Part 14 - Tad Fight Aftermath
The doctors came and went from Christie's cubicle between working on Valerie and Tad but did not make any apparent move to admit or release her. They'd just listen to her breathing, check her eyes, ask her how she felt, and then scurry off to work some more on their more seriously injured patients again.
"I'm really starting to feel the love here, Mom," Christie complained after the fourth or fifth flying visit - she really had lost count!
"I suspect they'd like to keep you at least overnight for observation, dear, for the hospital protocol's sake if nothing else." Amanda soothed. "You have quite the technicolor neck collar where that thug tried to choke you. I know there's no long-term damage or blood-deprived tissue problems, but those folks are merely doctors, not sorceresses."
"I really would rather just go home, Mom."
"I know, Christie, but we have to keep up appearances. Trust me! if I didn't have my gifts, I wouldn't let you out of this hospital until I had blood oaths that you were not at risk." Amanda paused for a moment, her lips pursing in concentration. "I most likely should have been more demanding and frantic about this and their current level of inattention to you. Oh well, too late now. It would just cause more scrutiny now, and besides, they have their hands more than full with Valerie and the thug."
"Well, don't waste any power helping Tad! Not before Val is heading for recovery."
"Oh, trust me, child, I wouldn't, and I won't! Heavens, at full power, and with all the goodwill in the world, I couldn't do much for him in any case, Christie. I briefly checked on him after checking Valerie? I gave his knee a quick scan, and frankly, I never imagined that a knee could just disintegrate like that. The knee cap is broken, all the major tendons are torn, and the knee is barely holding together with bits of cartilage and skin. Knees just don't move like that! There's nothing in that leg that is fixable, at least to someone with my ability level. The surgeons might be able to replace the entire joint, but more likely, they'll have to fuse it. He'll be lucky to walk again."
"And that, Jeja, is something we need to speak about. There is simply no way that you should have been able to cause that severe an injury in that precise manner. You're simply aren't strong enough, nor are you yet skilled enough in your current body to cause that much damage without a weapon."
"Sa Bum Nim, Charlie wasn't skilled or strong enough, either. I was hoping I'd catch Tad on the side of his knee with that kick. I put everything I had into it because I wanted him down on the ground and in no condition to chase Valerie and me. It . . . Papa Kim, his knee. . . it just folded backward underneath my strike, and, oh god, the sound it made. Like when Donnie does his breaking routines, only louder and sharper! It was awful, but I had to get to Val. And then I saw her, just collapsed on the ground in a heap. She couldn't have run! Grandfather . . . Sa Bum Nim, if Tad had tried to get back to his feet? If he'd even looked like he was still a threat? I'd have . . .I would have . . . Oh GOD!! MOM!"
Amanda rushed to her daughter and cradled the suddenly sobbing girl in her arms, rocking her and murmuring soothing sounds as she tried to calm her.
Grandfather Kim moved to the other side of the bed and put a gentle hand on her shoulder. "It is all right, Jeja. I know what you would have had to do. You would have had to remove him as a threat to protect your friend and yourself. He was bigger and stronger than you, and you would have had to strike your hardest. And it would have been in defense of the defenseless and in self-defense. There would have been no shame in that act. Do you understand me, child?"
As she heard the old teacher's words, Christie had begun to calm, but the tears kept streaming. "I had already decided to ax-kick him in the head," she admitted quietly. "I couldn't let him get up before help got there. He could have killed Valerie!"
"Well, given the result of your back kick, it is as well you didn't have to respond to that. An ax kick delivered to the head with the same force as your earlier strike would have been deadly. I can only surmise that, during a fight or flight situation, when you focused for that kick, you somehow augmented its power with . . .your other gifts."
Amanda looked up from cradling her daughter at the Papa Kim. Quietly she said, "You think she unconsciously used her magic when she struck at him? That's why the blow was so devastating?"
"I cannot think of any other way it could have occurred, Amanda. Even with my long experience, skill and technique, I highly doubt I could have caused similar damage with the same move."
Amanda nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, well, let's just look and see, shall we?" Christie's Mom's eyes went blank, then focused wholly on her daughter's body. Moving slowly around the bed, she seemed to examine Christie in minute detail, her lips moving with no sound coming forth. Finally, Amanda's eyes returned to normal, and she looked over at her daughter's teacher. "Papa Kim? Her aura is sparking and fizzing like a witch's brew on an old-fashioned fantasy horror movie. Her power is smoldering in her, just beneath the surface."
"Power, Momma? I'm manifesting again," Christie asked with concern in her voice."
"Indeed you are, dear. So, yet another little spark of power. Heavens, more than just a little spark this time, too." Amanda said softly. "First precognition, then fire, then healing and now augmenting yourself physically. Your next birthday is less than three weeks away, and you are starting to sparkle with power. I think, my dear one, that your transformation decision is upon us. Everything I have read in our family archives, and all of my Mother's and my personal experiences, indicate you will be ready. You will know how to accomplish your trial's last challenge on your birthday."
"But I don't know enough yet, Mom!" The words started as a yell and finished as a frantic, hissing whisper.
"If you don't know enough, you won't be able to accomplish the transformation, but everything I've seen? You will have the ability. So, I think you'd better decide what you want to do when the decision is forced upon you."
"And in the meantime, Jeja," Papa Kim put in, "I believe you would be best served to practice your poomsae, help train the lower belts and work with the heavy bag. Until we are more certain of your control of this. . . augmentation effect, you will not be sparring with anyone not named Kim."
Christie only nodded and began to relax. "Okay, Sa Bum Nim. In the meantime, how about using your Jedi-Mind trick on these doctors to let me go home? I think I need my own space to come to terms with all of this, and so does my Mom."
"Now, Christie, stop it! Any competent doctor should keep you overnight for observation based on your symptoms. If anyone not affected by Papa's 'mind-trick' reviews the records of your time in the ER? Trust me that someone will. There will be questions asked by those higher-ups in the hospital as to why you were released. Tonight's staff won't have any acceptable answers. Remember what I told you about keeping our abilities under wraps and not coming to the attention of outsiders."
"But, Moooommmm. . ."
A single eyebrow disappeared into Amanda's tousled hairline. All she said was, "Chris - tie!" but she still brought to bear the full power of the dreaded Mother's Voice (TM) all moms have, no magic required. "I'll see about getting them moving about a room for you."
"I guess Val will be in the ICU, Mom?"
"I expect so. The doctors will be worried about her brain swelling and other such issues should the damage spread. I think I've stopped the spread, but I am not sure of that. Besides, the doctors have no way of knowing what I've done. They'll want to be able to respond quickly if they need to operate or some such thing."
"Okay, I guess. But, Mom?" Amanda's chin lifted in response, "I want out of here as soon as possible tomorrow, and then? I want to go to the range and perforate some targets. I think I need that discipline and routine."
Amanda smiled. "I'll see what I can do. But no painting Tad's face on any of those bulls eyes, young lady."
"Came too close to doing something like that already. Once was enough. I don't even want silhouette targets, just nice, harmless concentric circles."
Pleased by her daughter's response, Amanda gave her a quick kiss before hustling off to get the hospital bureaucracy in motion.
"And I am an old man, Jeja, and it is approaching my bedtime. I will see you, probably tomorrow. Let me know how you do at the firing range, eh?"
"Sure thing, Sa Bum Nim. Rest well. Thank you for being here for Mom and me. Good night."
"Good night, Christie."
~-~
Mind, Body and Spirit Redux, Part 15
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Continued by Paula Dillon and Tigger
Part 15 - After the Hospital Stay, A Day at the Pistol Range
Thoroughly annoyed with her performance, Christie tried to empty her mind of everything except the task at hand. Okay, so she was still pissed off about spending yesterday and last night at the hospital. That had totally sucked. When she hadn't been pestered by nurses, she'd been interrogated by the investigating detectives - again and again. Why didn't the blasted police force have any female detectives? And just when she thought THAT was over? The top criminal and civil attorneys from Mom's law office had shown up to ensure the detectives had all the evidence needed for bulletproof cases. Boy, hadn't the detectives liked that little intrusion into their investigation. Eh, not so much.
Damn good thing she wasn't some stuck on herself diva-princess - that photo session to document ALL her injuries had been, well, not her best look. At least one good thing came of it all. After questioning her, the lawyers and detectives made sure the doctors had gotten tissue samples from under Valerie's fingernails. Mom had 'listened' in on that exchange. Skin tissue and eye cornea tissue corresponding to a certain asshole's facial injuries. Christie didn't need to guess what the DNA testing would reveal.
And darn it! She was here at the pistol range to try to put all that crap behind her! Focus, Christie, she told herself. Get your head in the game, girl; you're playing with live ammunition here!
Taking a deep breath, Christie centered herself and refocused on her shooting mechanics. She paid meticulous and excessive attention to every detail as she reloaded her four P 95 pistol magazines. She'd arrived at the range intending to complete a standard short form National Match Course, so her original magazine loads had been based on those requirements. However, that intention had not survived long enough for her to complete the
initial slow fire string of the course.
She hadn't really missed - all of her shots had been 'in the black,' scoring eight to ten points each. She'd shot 87 of a possible 100, but that was significantly below her typical slow-fire performance of 94 to 97. Clearly, something in her mechanics was out of sync, so she would go 'back to the basics.'
Her Mother had seen a problem before Christie had completed the first string. Of course she had, and as was their habit, when Christie's shooting mechanics were off, Amanda moved in to serve as her daughter's shooting coach and spotter. Amanda had made Christie go through her setup and firing procedures step by step. They worked together over the next half hour, correcting any minor errors in Christie's stance, grip, breathing, and other 'little things.' Over and over again until they were both satisfied that Christie had it right. Finally, Amanda had given Christie the go-ahead to try the short form, 30-shot-match all the way through. Christie had scored 279 out of a possible 300, an excellent score for most shooters but not really up to Christie's usual standard and not what she expected of herself.
At this point, Amanda thought that it was time to call it a day and come back fresh another day. Maybe Christie was still not fully recovered from Tad's attack, but Christie was having none of that. She was sure that she'd be performing to her usual standards with 'just a little more time.' Finally, Amanda had agreed to four more magazines, but only four more. Then that would be it for the day. The look in her Mother's eyes told Christie that further negotiations would be fruitless and might well have negative results, so she had agreed. But she would fully load all four magazines with 15 rounds each to get every last bit of practice in.
For her part, Amanda was happy with her daughter's performance. After all, she'd been attacked, choked, seen her best friend seriously injured, fought for her life and been in the hospital in the last 24 hours. And she'd still shot expert! But Christie was her Mother's daughter, and 'good' just wasn't 'good enough.' Since this was her daughter's show, Amanda stepped back from her coaching position. Still, she remained close enough to observe Christie's mechanics and adherence to standard range safety procedures.
Mentally, Amanda checked off each step as Christie slid the first loaded magazine into her pistol and chambered a round while keeping the gun pointed downrange. Christie clicked off the safety and brought her weapon up to firing position. Amanda watched her girl's exaggeratedly precise inhale/half exhale and waited. . .
Christie shrieked just as the Ruger fired!
Christie's off-hand swung sharply behind her and furiously swatted at her left buttock. Amanda was moving before she'd realized what she was doing. Reaching Christie, Amanda took the girl's gun hand by her wrist and ensured the unsafe weapon remained pointed downrange. "SAFE YOUR WEAPON!" She ordered loudly enough to be heard through her daughter's ear protectors, then saw that Christie had already clicked on the pistol's safety switch. Amanda then pulled off her daughter's ear protectors and ordered Christie to unload her weapon and step back from the firing line.
Christie placed the unloaded pistol, the magazine and the ejected round down on the table, shrieked and jumped again, swatting at her right buttock. "Mom, is there a bee back there? That HURTS!!"
Amanda saw nothing on her girl's bottom except Christie's tightly fitting yoga pants Amanda had brought from home to check out the hospital. The seat of her daughter's pants was smooth and spotless, nor had Amanda seen any insects in the indoor facility. "I'll clean up and secure your shooting station and weapon. Run inside to the ladies' room and check yourself out. I'll be in as soon as I've cleared everything with the range safety monitor."
~-~
Christie was literally seething in frustration in the fire range's cramped unisex bathroom. She tried to contort herself to see at her own butt with her pants and panties down around her ankles. Admittedly, frustration was not that uncommon an experience for the teen. Not since the day she'd awakened as Christie and not Charlie. Sometimes, it just seemed that life as a female was fraught with that emotion. Bras, boys and periods were just the tips of the iceberg. What else was there? Oh, yeah, she could count the ways! Eight years of 'lost' training, a constantly shifting center of balance, ill-defined yet looming trial 'lessons,' and intermittent and rarely controllable precognitive episodes about covered it! Things kept piling on in her life, and yeah, it was damned frustrating at times! Could some cosmic referee at least throw a yellow penalty flag once in a while?!?
The cursed sink mirror in this phonebooth-sized washroom was mounted so high on the wall that Christie had to stand on tip-toe to see her entire head in the darn thing! Oh, but wait, there's more! She couldn't get far enough from the sink to see her butt - even her body pressed flat against the room's back wall!
And her butt HURT! A LOT!! She felt like both butt cheeks had been hit by Bee-52 using a ten-penny nail gun for a stinger. Not that she could FEEL any sting-welts nor see any blood.
She'd just decided to risk a climb up and onto the sink so she could stick the offending body part right up against that damned mirror when a sharp knock echoed from the bathroom door. "Christie? It's Mom. Let me in, please," Amanda called from outside the bathroom.
Feeling ridiculously cheered by her Mother's presence, Christie minced over to the door - her pants and panties still hobbling her - and stood out of the sightline for anyone outside. Quickly, she unlocked the door and admitted her Mom. Amanda hurried in and then promptly shut and locked the door.
And stopped dead in her tracks at the sight of her frazzled and overwrought daughter. Deeply ingrained survival instincts had Amanda swallowing several clever quips and observations that might just have detonated Christie's obviously hair-trigger temper. She decided to just ask, "How are you, honey?"
Which completely shattered the tenuous hold Christie had managed on her emotions so far. The girl rush-hopped to her Mom, wrapped the older woman in her arms, and began to cry. No, actually, she began to wail! Between sobs, she poured out an almost incoherent litany of complaints. Amanda tried to keep up with Christie's torrent of rage and indignities. These included her sore bottom, this tiny and useless bathroom, the too-high to-use mirror, and having to be a darned girl! There were other issues in that flood, but Amanda probably only got half of them.
Which left Amanda at a loss on how to proceed. This was a motherhood challenge she had never experienced before. Charlie and then Christie had never broken down like this - not in either timeline. What the hell was she supposed to do, damn it? She WAS the MOTHER! Fixing stuff like this was her job!
Only she didn't have a clue what to do next! Finally, she just improvised. At first, all she could think of to do was hold on tightly to the shaking girl, murmur a few 'there-theres,' pat her daughter's back and pray for further inspiration. When she caught something that sounded like 'both cheeks still really hurt, darn it,' Amanda pounced! Taking advantage of her daughter's physical proximity, Amanda employed her healer talents. She scanned the girl for tissue damage or toxic trauma.
And got nothing. No evidence of any tissue damage. No taint of any insect stinger venom. She could not even detect any abnormal synaptic nerve activity. That was very puzzling; the pain receptor nerves in Christie's bottom should have been in extreme distress, given her daughter's evident pain. According to Amanda's senses, nothing was wrong, and her daughter shouldn't be in pain. Amanda let her hands slip down to her daughter's buttocks and attempted a 'hands-on' general healing spell. She didn't have any better idea what more to do, but once again, she got nothing.
Because there wasn't anything physically wrong down there to heal, and all Amanda could think was, "Well, NOW what do I do?"
Fortunately, Christie had started to cry herself out and was beginning to calm down. Relieved, Amanda held on as her daughter slowly gathered herself. With one final sniffle, Christie straightened up and stepped back. Nearly falling, she started to pull up her pants only to be stopped by Amanda. "Let me do a visual and manual examination of where you are feeling the pain, honey."
Which proved to be no more informative than her previous, magically-assisted efforts. "I can't see or feel anything - just smooth, unblemished skin with no signs of welts, swelling or inflammation. I can't find any evidence of a sting site. Let's see what happens when I do this . . .," and Amanda began probing the muscles beneath the shapely globes of Christie's bottom with her fingers.
"That doesn't make it hurt worse?" She asked, surprised when her daughter didn't flinch or otherwise react to the firm pressures.
Christie looked over her shoulder at her Mom and shook her head. "It doesn't. I can feel your finger pressing into the muscle, but while the pain is still there, it doesn't change no matter where you touch it or how hard. It's like . . . it's like they are two completely unrelated sensations. I don't know quite how to describe it. Maybe the pain is like the bass line in a piece of music being played too loudly. It's just there, but your touches are like the tenor line with no dissidence between them when you press. I can hear both . . . I'm not telling this well . ."
"I understand, and I could feel your sensory nerves reacting when I probed you with my fingers using my healer talent. Only I couldn't discern anything from that bass line with my talent to carry your analogy a little further. Do you think you can drive us home, or should I do it?"
"I'd better not," Christie replied as she carefully pulled up her pants. "I sort of have the pain under control for the moment, but I don't know if that will last. I don't want to be driving if the sting suddenly comes back on me like it did at the firing line."
"Okay. I've locked up our weapons and ammunition in a range locker for now. Let's go home and then I'm gonna call your grandmother. I might even ask her to come to visit so she can examine you. Maybe she'll have a better idea of what might be going on."
~-~
It wasn't until after dinner that Amanda was able to contact her Mother - a meal that her daughter ate standing at the breakfast bar. Amanda had finally cast a mild sleep spell on the girl, who had promptly gone up to bed. Except for sleeping on her tummy, Christie showed no sign she felt any pain. Another little spell had slid some pillows under the girl to relieve any pressure on Christie's bosom. Thankfully, she'd been sleeping quietly for about forty-five minutes, so Amanda had felt safe to slip out and call her own Mother.
But not before casting the 'baby monitor spell' she hadn't used since Charlie (or Christie in this timeline) had been two years old.
Amanda spent the first few minutes explaining what had happened and what little she knew about what was causing her daughter's distress. "Mom, I've tried every healing and diagnostic spell I know. I simply cannot find a natural cause for what ails her. Moreover, I can't think of nor find a supernatural cause for it either. I'm at the limits of my knowledge. I was hoping you had an idea or suggestion of something to try or, failing that, maybe come visit and see if you perceive something I haven't?"
"Well, I'm not nearly as strong at the healing arts as you are, dear, and I really have no clue what might be the issue here. However, I have our family library of journals here, and some of our forebears were powerful healers. I'll do a scan of those books tonight. I'll call you if I find anything. Failing that, I'll bring the books to you tomorrow so you can have a look, too. Something I might pass over might click with you since you are up close and personal with Christie's problem right now."
"Thanks, Mom. I'm at my wit's end here. At least she seems to be resting comfortably and sleeping deeply. I've got your old baby monitor on her, so I'll know right away if something changes."
Rebekah chuckled at that. "I'd all but forgotten that old spell. Good thing you remembered it, or you'd be up all night fretting about her." The two women laughed at that, easing some of the tension both felt. "Now, Amanda, tell me how YOU are."
Caught unprepared by Rebekah's motherly dart, Amanda hesitated, nearly stuttering as she tried to come up with an acceptable response. That was all the response Rebekah needed - she pounced. "Amanda?! What. Is. Wrong?"
Sighing, Amanda replied, "Well, if you must know, I felt pretty useless today. My child was in pain, and NOTHING I did helped her. And, oh my god, when she broke down on me in the bathroom? I was dumbfounded. I didn't know what to do! Mom, Charlie or Christie, either one - she's never done that before. I just stood there, patting her back and mumbling meaningless, hopefully, soothing sounds while my child completely melted down! She was the one who got it out and started pulling herself together. I might as well have not even been there for all the good I did her. I STILL don't know what I should have or could have done."
"Hmmm," Rebekah interposed if only to stop her daughter's self-recriminations. "Okay, let me see if I have this straight. Neither one of your children, in your memory, has ever had an emotional episode like this before. Correct?"
"Yes, but . . ."
"QUIET! Mother is talking. So, to continue. You didn't know what to do for Christie. Well, welcome to the Mom Club, girl! You somehow missed that step in our initiation, and guess what? Life caught up with you."
"I never . . . You never had to . . ."
"HA! Think again, daughter. Remember waking up with bloody sheets and bad nausea when you were eleven? You started menarche earlier than I had anticipated, so we had only just begun our birds and the bees lessons. YOU MELTED DOWN, and there I was, feeling dumb, ill-prepared and like a bad Mom. It happens to the best of us, Amanda. You just got a lot further down the motherhood road than I did or most other moms do before you got that hit."
"But, you knew just what to do and how to help . . ."
"That's not how I remember it, baby girl! Oh, I knew what to do once you started calming down, but for about five minutes, all I did was hold you and let you yell at me, all the while feeling like a failure. It was the only time I even thought about regretting becoming a woman full time."
"Really, Mom?" And it was a distinctly childlike voice that asked.
"Really, Amanda. I'm just surprised your alternative timeline Christie-memories don't include something like this in her past."
"Nope, nothing. Not in my Charlie memories, either."
There were moments of silence as Rebekah considered what her daughter had just revealed. "Interesting. You know, I have an idea . . . Remember, dear, you only spent a year as a guy. On the other hand, Charlie AND I spent the first sixteen years of our lives as guys. I might hazard the guess that Christie has still been doing the whole stoic male thing when she deals with the little challenges and adversities that come with being a teenage girl. When I first changed, I did it, but I broke down halfway through my year and had a good old-fashioned crying hissy fit over something I DON'T need to tell you about."
"Aw, Mom . . ." Amanda teased back.
"ANYway, part of the reason for this trial, particularly the sex change, is to impart lessons any sorcerer needs to learn. Unlike me, Christie had the discipline and pure pig-headed stubbornness not to give in and let have herself a good cry or two to relieve the pressure of her situation. Ever. I don't know for sure, but emotions are a big part of the feminine experience, much more so than for males."
"So, this is something Christie needed to experience?"
"It's as good an answer as any other I can think of. Well, let me get to my library so I can see what there is to see. I'll call you if I find anything promising. Either way, I'll call you tomorrow for a status report and to plan my visit if I need to come down there. Okay?"
"Okay, Mom. Thanks."
"Go to bed, honey. You need rest, too, and you know the monitor spell will wake you if you're needed."
"G'night, Mom. Talk to you tomorrow."
"Good night, dear."
~-~
Mind, Body and Spirit Redux, Part 16
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Continued by Paula Dillon and Tigger
Part 16- Seeking a New Routine
Christie had years of intense training as a ballet student, not to mention Christie's and Charlie's years as a hard-core martial arts student. The years in both disciplines had gifted the teen with an excellent internal clock that went off even as the first rays of the sunlight snuck in beneath her bedroom curtains. At least that hadn't changed when she'd become Christie. On the other hand, Charlie had always been predominantly a tummy-sleeper. This preference had not long survived her transformation. Christie had learned almost immediately that her rapidly maturing female figure was not designed for Charlie's preferred sleep position. Crushing the 'girls' was not conducive to a good night's sleep. Christie had no choice but to start sleeping on her side while cuddling a pillow to preclude trying to turn onto her stomach as she slept.
Putting her 'cuddle-pillow' up near her bed's headboard, Christie took a moment to stretch and center herself as her conscious mind came online. Once she was fully awake and ready to take on the world, Christie rolled to a sitting position . . .
And then jumped abruptly off the bed and to her feet as she recalled - vividly - her painfully stung derriere. Only to stop short yet again when she realized that her bottom didn't hurt, not even after carelessly plopping all her weight right down on her bum. Christie took a minute and scanned her body as closely as her still developing healer senses permitted. Just as her Mom had said yesterday, there was nothing to find - not with her healer's eye. She didn't see or feel ANYthing off back there. If anything, there was a sort of 'memory ghost' in her mind that said, "Beware! This might hurt!" It was like that 'it might still hurt' hesitancy Charlie or Christie experienced when resuming her training after being sidelined by an injury such as an ankle sprain. Nothing hurt - not really - but her mind and her body were on high alert for the first sign that the injured area wasn't quite healed.
"Well," she said aloud in her empty room, "The first thing you have to do is show your body that it is recovered and won't hurt anymore. Like the first jump in dance class, or the first kick strike at the dojang." Christie quickly donned a sports bra, leotard and her cross-trainers and began her typical morning stretching routine. Christie cautiously moved into each position. She initially took any movement that might aggravate her injury gradually before stepping up to her regular speed once she had confidence in her recovery. Or was that, more correctly, her nonexistent injury? Darned if she knew, but at least nothing hurt!
She finished her stretching but decided to forego her usual Tai Chi forms this morning. Christie wanted to let her body come down off her workout high. Then she'd see if the pain recurred following her relatively mild workout before she did anything more demanding. Just in case.
Amanda was just finishing her pre-departure cup of morning coffee when Christie arrived at the breakfast bar for her regular fruit and yogurt breakfast. She watched her daughter casually seat herself on the tall bar stool, pleased to see Christie seemingly pain-free. Amanda magically scanned her daughter. She then commented, "Well, I still don't see any physical damage to your body or any trace of toxins in your system, Christie. You seem to be moving about easily. How are you feeling this morning?"
"I think I'm good, Mom. At the same time, I am super aware of where my bottom did hurt yesterday, though, and the slightest hint of a twinge or a tickle sets off alarm bells in my head. I did my normal wake-up routine except for the tai-chi this morning and had no pain after finishing. For the moment, nothing seems wrong or painful. Can't find or fix something that doesn't want to act broke."
"True, true. So, what are your plans for today?" Amanda asked as she rinsed her cereal bowl and coffee cup in the kitchen sink. "Not doing your tai-chi? Does that mean you've decided to take things easy today?"
Christie shook her head. "No, I don't think so. I only skipped that to give my body a chance to come down from the endorphin rush of my stretching workout. You know, to make sure I didn't hurt afterward. I missed dance practice yesterday, so I thought I'd go to the studio and do my barre work. It'll give me a similar whole-body workout to what I get from doing the tai-chi forms, but I'll have the barre right there to grab hold of if something goes wrong while I'm exercising. Assuming that aren't any issues with that, I'd like to go to my regular martial arts class at the dojang this afternoon and work on my Poomsae. After that, I might try to wheedle Sa Bum Nim into letting me beat on the heavy bag for a while since he told me I couldn't spar. I kind of need to work off some aggression, I think."
"Imagining Tad's face on the bag while you beat the heck out of it, eh? As I said, I can't sense anything wrong with you or your health right now. If no difficulties arise during your two workouts, I can't think of any reason not to blow off some steam that way. Just make sure Papa Kim is all right with that first. He was the one to insist you not spar, after all. There also might be reasons not to work out with the heavy bag."
"Okay, Mom, thanks," Christie replied as she scooted off her barstool to walk Amanda to the door. Exchanging a quick hug and kiss, they parted - Amanda to drive to work and Christie to collect her dance and karate bags.
~-~
A little before nine o'clock, Christie arrived at the ballet studio. The schedule posted on the door indicated no classes were planned until after lunch. Christie checked the door and was pleased to find it unlocked. Slipping inside, she quickly donned her toe shoes and went off in search of Madame or one of her assistants. She needed to let whoever was in charge of the studio know she was here and make sure it was all right to do her barre workout.
Madame Coulter was in her office, working on her computer and staring intently at the screen. Christie knocked softly on the doorjamb to get her teacher's attention without scaring her. Madame looked up, stared for a moment, quickly hit a few more keys and then rose from her seat. Moving around her desk, she asked, "Christie? What are you doing here? Your Mother called me the day before yesterday to tell me about the incident with that ruffian and that you'd miss class. Are you all right?"
Christie smiled at the older woman, marveling at her demeanor's honest concern and worry. Madame had certainly mellowed in the last year. "I think I'm okay, but Master Kim won't let me spar for a while, and I need to do something physical. If it is all right with you, Madame, I thought I would do some barre work here in the studio. That way, I'll be able to determine if I'm really impaired or not and still get in some exercise. Then if that goes well, I want to go to my regular martial arts class. Like I said, I'm not allowed to spar, but I could still practice my Poomsae, I mean, my required forms. After spending that night and most of yesterday morning in the hospital, I need to move!"
Renee Coulter carefully studied the young woman, a single eyebrow raised in concentration. "Well, let's not get ahead of ourselves and see how you do first, shall we? I will observe and ensure you are doing the movements correctly and freely. If there are any postures you physically cannot do, I will help you figure out why. If you have a lingering injury, I will insist you take the time to heal yourself properly before pushing yourself further either here or at the Kims' school. Agreed?"
"That would be great, Madame. Are you sure you have the time? You looked really busy in your office."
"Harrumph. Of course, I have time! You are one of my girls, after all. My accountant is coming over later today to review my finances. I wanted to check them over one more time. Which I have. Now, into the studio, ballerina, and do your pre-dance stretching."
Smiling, Christie curtsied, "Yes, Madame!" before hurrying off to the brightly lighted, mirrored room.
~-~
"Well, Christie, I think that is enough for today. That was an excellent session, I think," Rene said an hour later. "It really is too bad you had that growth spurt. Athletically, you are everything a Principal Dancer should be. You're just too tall and too, uhh, gifted. Don't want any danseurs hurting themselves when they lift you. Oh well, run along, girl. My accountant is due here in a little while, and I suddenly feel the need to look over those figures just one more time."
A sweaty but grateful Christie hurried off into the studio's modest dressing room to grab a quick shower. Madame Renee Coulter might have mellowed considerably in the last year - emphasis MIGHT - but she sure as heck hadn't gotten easy. Christie's one-hour workout under Madame's gimlet eye had been surprisingly grueling! None of the movements or postures had been unusually challenging, but because Madame ALWAYS saw even the tiniest misstep and called Christie on every one of them. Then, she would have Christie do it over (and over and over and. . .) until she was satisfied that her student had finally done the movement correctly.
Renee had taken exception to one of Christie's softly groaned complaints. Firmly, the ballet mistress had told her dancer, "If you cannot do a movement correctly, there can be only two reasons. You are either not trying, which is beneath you. Otherwise, your injury is restricting you too much to complete the movement. In that case, you should not be doing any of this right now. We will correct the former until you get it right. As for the latter, we will deal with that too if it becomes necessary. Thankfully, that hasn't been the case, which means you haven't been trying hard enough, and THAT STOPS NOW, BALLERINA! Your extension on that last position was hesitant and imprecise. Do it again! Unless you can't . . ."
Having nobody else in the studio to distract Madame's full and undivided attention from Christie had turned out to be both a blessing AND a curse. They'd indeed determined that Christie wasn't impaired - that was for darn sure!
~-~
Christie pulled into an empty parking space near the dojang. She smiled as she considered the many benefits of having her driver's license and a car. One of which was that she could just pop downtown and whisk her Mom off to lunch. She'd done that on impulse, but it had worked out great for both women. Amanda had been able to sense for herself that Christie was still physically fine even after her surprisingly demanding workout with Madame Coulter. For her part, Christie had enjoyed being the one to surprise and treat her Mother for a change. Amanda had passed on good news from Val's mother over their soup and salad. Lunch together had been pleasant and was something Christie intended to do again sometime.
Christie had arrived early for her class as she wanted to be really stretched out and warmed up before the formal training started. So far, everything was going fine, but she didn't want to tempt fate. Except for the three Kims and several of their advanced red and black belts students, the main studio of the dojang was empty. That bunch was huddled near the stage. They were most likely planning and preparing for today's lessons. When Charlie had become a Red Belt (2nd Geup) in his other life, he had attended a few of those meetings. Young-Soo and Master Kim always ensured that the assigned instructors were prepared for that day's lessons and what might go wrong. Teaching the younger kids was something Christie missed. Maybe after she earned her Third Geup Blue Belt with the red stripe later this summer, she'd be able to take on a more formal trainer role, as Charlie had.
Kim Young-Soo looked up to see who had entered and then jumped up to his feet, waving his hands. "Christie! Great to see you. Come on over!"
Happily returning the greeting of the youngest Kim, Christie changed direction and hustled over to the three Masters and their assembled assistants. Christie was swept up into Young-Soo's hug and then passed her around to the rest to have a turn.
"It is terrific to see you, Jeja," Master Kim told her when it had been his turn. "I see you have brought your gear and dobok, so I assume you plan to attend class. Are you well enough for that? It's only been a couple of days since. . ."
"I think so, Master Kim," Christie replied seriously. "The doctors couldn't find anything really wrong when they released me yesterday. I've already done my morning stretching and an hour of studio work over at the ballet studio, and I feel fine. I know Grandfather Kim told me not to spar with anyone until he gives me his approval, but I'd like to keep doing the non-contact work. I, umm, kind of need the physical activity. Besides, I need to learn all the required Poomsae for my next belt, so I'm ready when the time comes for testing."
Master Kim considered that and then looked to Grandfather Kim. "Father, your thoughts?"
"I believe she can do what she says. We will keep a closer eye on her than usual. We will just make sure she isn't favoring something."
"Umm, Grandfather? I'd really like to beat on the heavy bag after class, assuming nothing more comes up."
"If you are still feeling fine at the end of class, come and get me. I will supervise. When I say you are done, Jeja, you are done. Agreed?" At Christie's enthusiastic 'yes,' Grandfather smiled. "Go get changed, and then do your warm-ups. Class starts in about forty-five minutes."
~-~
Black Belt Wilma Davis and Red Belt Daniel Murdock led the training for Christie's group as the class split up by skill levels. After the standard exercises, they guided the group in performing several of the lower difficulty forms required for the Blue Belt Christie already held. She caught sight of Master and Grandfather Kim watching her closely for the first couple of poomsae before they'd evidently decided she could proceed on her own. Then, they went on to work with and watch over other students. That made her feel even better about herself.
With about a half-hour left in the class, Master Kim gathered all the students back together and had them kneel around the main mat. "Over the next few classes, students preparing for their Red and Black Belt tests will be working on one of the more challenging requirements, the Koryo Poomse. We only attempt this physically demanding exercise with our more advanced and prepared students. You will be told if you have permission to start working on this poomse. For now, Instructors Wilma and Daniel will demonstrate it for you."
Wilma and Daniel marched to the center of the mat and took their 'At Attention' positions. Master Kim moved off to the side and assumed the instructor's role. "Kyungnet! Turn and bow to Grandfather Kim. Kyungnet!" He ordered, watching as the two instructors followed his order. "Bow to Young-Soo. Kyungnet! Bow to me. Kyungnet!"
Master Kim stepped away and took a seat in front of his father and son.
"SIJAK! (begin)" Grandfather Kim's strong voice rang out.
Wilma and Daniel moved efficiently to the starting position, and in unison, they began their form. Master Kim spoke up, "Note how they strive to move in unison as they perform the exercise. They have practiced this form many times, often doing it together or as part of a larger class. Remember, students who are to test for the same belt will be called upon to perform their Poomsae together. It saves time when judges have several students testing at once. Also, it allows the judges can compare the students as they move through the form. It is best to stay in sync with your fellow students as you move through the forms. Wilma and Daniel are excellent examples of this. The poomse looks tremendous when they perform together in harmony, but if just one student falls out of sync, it will stick out like a sore thumb. This tests not only the students' technique but also their control and self-awareness."
The two instructors completed the form together and then bowed to the Kims. "Well done, both of you," Grandfather Kim called out. "Students, CHARYUT! (attention). Everyone except Christie will now practice sparring. Daniel, please work with Christie on synchronizing the Koryo Poomse."
Christie and Daniel moved off to one of the side mats to clear room for the other students to work on their sparring. "I watched you today, and I thought you did just fine. Is it all right to ask why you're not sparring?"
Because Grandfather said not to, Christie thought to herself. "Caution for the most part. Tad had me in a rear-naked choke long enough that I would have been out if I'd missed the back kick I hit. I think Grandfather wants to make sure everything is okay in my brain-box before he lets anyone start punching and kicking it."
"Do you know how Valerie is doing? I guess she got it worse than you?"
"She's got some cracked ribs from a back elbow strike, but the real concern is a back-fist that hit her right on her temple. They're worried about cranial bleeding and possible long-term issues from the injury there."
"Tad always was an asshole. I tried to call the hospital yesterday, but they wouldn't tell me anything about Valerie or you."
"Well, the good news is that they are moving her out of the ICU later today and into a regular room. She'll be able to have visitors starting tomorrow after lunch. You should go see her."
"Oh, I don't know . . . I mean, we're not close or anything . . ."
Was I this clueless when I was Charlie? Yeah, probably, Christie thought to herself. Well, if this breaks some sacred 'Girl Rule,' I'll just have to claim ignorance and inexperience. "You should definitely go see her, Daniel. Tomorrow!" She said, perhaps more forcefully than she should have.
"Really?"
"Really! Dan, she's been trying to get your attention for months! Heavens, just before Tad attacked us, she told me she would call you out during class and spar with you."
"Why would she do that? I'm two belts senior to her."
"What? You've never done something stupidly obvious to get someone's attention? You ignored her best girl moves, so she was going to cheat and get you down so she could sit on you! GO. SEE. VAL! Got it?"
"Umm, okay. I mean, she's really cute, but I figured, well, you and her being so tight. . . I didn't want to, uhm, intrude, you know?"
Christie face palmed as she understood what was holding Dan back from pursuing her friend. And truth be told, she had harbored such thoughts herself, but Valerie wasn't inclined in that direction. "Idiot!" She growled. "We're BFFs! Best Girl Friends Forever! I repeat, go see Val. It'll make her day!"
Still unsure, Daniel looked nothing like the confident and skilled karateka who had just performed an extremely difficult poomse flawlessly. "Well, if you really think so."
"YES, I really think so! What does she have to do? Tie you to a chair, sit on your lap and hand-feed you cake? Trust me, she'd do it. At least, she would once she's out of the hospital. Now promise me you'll go, or I'll kick your butt, and Grandfather will yell at me for sparring."
"I'll go! I'll go. Don't hit me!" Daniel laughed, holding his hands up in a 'stay back' motion. "I promise."
"Good boy," Christie snarked at him. "Oh, and she really, really likes carnations. That's a hint, buster."
~-~
After class was finished, Sa Bum Nim observed silently as Christie did her level best to destroy the heavy bag. For a while, he just let her burn off the adrenalin and stress she'd obviously been hoarding over the past few days. When she started to flag, he took charge of the exercise, correcting her form and guiding her choice of technique.
After one last over-the-top roundhouse kick Papa Kim quietly ordered, "Charyut, Jeja," calling Christie to attention. Positioning himself carefully, he faced the heavy bag. "Come over here. Stand in front of me with your back to the heavy bag. Yes, that's good. Now, do you have all of that anger and aggression out of your system?"
"Yes, Grandfather. Thank you for watching over me. I know that such a display is not in keeping with the tenets of the art, but I really did need it."
"Even Masters are human and subject to extreme emotions at times. How we deal with them is what matters. Your method did no harm. Are you better now?" Christie took a deep, cleansing breath and then nodded. "Good. Now, I want you to enter your meditation safe place. No, don't sit! Continue standing just as you are, but empty your mind." He watched her closely and saw when she transitioned to a light, meditative state. "Now, I want you to remember the attack. Feel Tad behind you. Remember how you felt."
Christie tensed, her hands coming up as if looking for the arms wrapping around her throat. "Now, Jeja, the hold tightens. What happens next?"
In a soft, oddly distant voice, Christie replied. "It's tight. I'm starting to drift. I'm pulling at his arms, digging my nails in, but he's too strong, too enraged."
"And then? What happened next?"
"Something - someone - Val, I guess, hit us from behind, knocking us a step or two forward. I hear her screaming at him, and then, his hold loosens . . . then he lets it go entirely, and I feel him strike - the back elbow, I think, and then I feel him twist to get power into the back fist . . .Val's screaming stops. While my head clears, I strike back at him with my own back elbow. I try to get away, but I'm still a little woozy from the choke. I decide I have to disable him - hard. I draw up my leg and get ready to shift everything I've got into the back kick. . ."
"JEJA!" Grandfather barked suddenly. "STRIKE. Exactly as you did. Do it NOW!"
The sound of her foot connecting with the heavy bag was explosive and loud as if someone had set off a small dynamite charge or fired a heavy-caliber rifle. The swivel assembly holding the heavy bag up to the ceiling broke catastrophically, showering bits of metal onto the floor on the other side of the bag.
Master Kim and Young-Soo came running back into the dojang studio from their office and stopped short at seeing the heavy bag lying on its side on the floor. "What happened, Grandfather," Young-soo yelled. "Did someone fire a gun and break the bag chain?
Sa Bum Nim chuckled and took a shivering Christie into his arms. "No, grandson. We were working with the heavy bag, and apparently, the swivel assembly on the chain failed rather spectacularly. Quite loudly, too, as you could hear."
Master Kim bent down to examine the failed linkage, picking up several pieces. "It must have been badly worn," Grandfather continued, "I think Young-Soo should run off and get a replacement for it."
"But, Dad! Those things never break - at least not in all my experience with them in dojangs and gyms," Master Kim protested.
"Ah, but one just did break. That one," Grandfather said, nodding towards the bits and pieces in Master Kim's hands. "And now, Jeja Christie cannot continue her practice until we buy another. As a matter of fact? Buy five. Just in case."
Master Kim and his son slowly nodded their agreement. They walked off, muttering something in Korean that Christie did not understand, making Grandfather laugh again.
"And that, Jeja, is why I'm being cautious with your sparring for now. You should not have been able to do what you just did. Before Tad, you would not have been able to do that. Now, you are apparently instinctively channeling your sorcerous abilities to amplify your natural physical power at the point of attack."
"You Jedi Mind Tricked me. I was back there in the street with Tad hanging off me.
"Yes, and unfortunately, until you can completely control that ability, I cannot let other students spar with you. Remember when Charlie hit Donnie in that last sparring session? Even then, Charlie hurt him. Now, if you lost concentration and control or felt threatened, it could be far worse."
"Do you . . . Do you think I should give up the martial arts?"
"Absolutely not. I think you will need the martial arts discipline to learn how to control this. Whether you are a karateka or not, you have that ability. You need to master it, and the safest place for you to do that is here, with my family and me. I think it may be time to tell my son and grandson what is going on so that they can help you, too."
"I need to talk to Mom about that before you tell them. I'm really not sure of all the magic rules related to telling outsiders. You may be exempt or something since you have your own talent and figured it out for yourself."
"Agreed, Christie. Next time we will meditate before we confront your sand-filled opponent so that your mind is vigilant, fresh and focused. Then we will see what we can do about your striking power."
~-~
Mind, Body and Spirit Redux, Part 17
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Continued by Paula Dillon and Tigger
Part 17 - Visiting Valerie
In the future, when Christie would look back and reflect on the events of this day, two things would forever stand out in her memory. First was just how normal the day started. Nothing to make note of, really; it was just another summer morning in June at the McKellar household. However, the second thing that stuck in her memories was how weird the day became after that. Days like this one just didn't happen to everyday, ordinary teenagers. They DIDN'T unless you accepted that there really was magic in the world. Magic was something that Christie McKellar, once Charlie McKellar, had been forced to take as hard, indisputable fact.
But even then? Her day still qualified as pretty damned weird!
Dawn found Christie already up and working through her regular morning exercise routines. Since she'd had the time this morning, she indulged herself by completing the complete Tai-Chi Chuan long-form program. She was just finishing her cool down when she heard her Mother making her way down to the kitchen. Christie had already programmed the coffee maker before starting her workout so her Mom would find hot, fresh coffee waiting for her.
Entering the house, she greeted her Mother and hurried upstairs to shower and dress. When Christie came back down, Amanda had fruit, yogurt and coffee waiting for her daughter. As was their habit, Mother and daughter used this quiet time of their morning to make and share their plans for the rest of the day. Most of their attention was given to planning their visit to Valerie in her hospital room after Amanda got off work for the day.
"I'll check with the hospital, but I'm sure we can visit her after dinner. Why don't I just come home after work, as usual, pick you up and take you out to the diner for supper before we go see her?"
"Sounds great, Mom. What time do you think I should be ready for you? Regular at-home time?"
Amanda nodded as she put her coffee cup down. "I'll leave work no later than five o'clock today. That should get me home by 5:30 at the latest. We'll have a quick, light dinner and should be able to arrive at the hospital to see Valerie by around seven. That work for you?"
"Absolutely. By the way, I have dance class with Madame Renee and the little ones this morning. I think she's trying to get them ready for a show at the end of summer, and since I'm not one of the principal dancers anymore, maybe she'll let me help with that. That would be a lot of fun because I simply love working with the kids."
Christie was momentarily taken aback by the odd look that crossed her Mother's attractive features. Still, before she could ask about it, Amanda stood up to gather her things for work. "Oh, thank you, Christie. You just reminded me of something. I need to have a few words with Madame Coulter about a . . . payment. What time is your class, and do you know when she's usually in her studio? I really don't want to play phone tag trying to get in touch with her, nor do I want to interrupt a session or anything. Do you know when she might have a minute or two for me today?"
Christie started gathering the breakfast dishes for rinsing as she thought. "Well, my class starts at 9:30. I usually get there a little after nine, so I can dress and lock up my stuff. I haven't ever found the studio still closed when I get there. In fact, yesterday, the door was unlocked when I got there right at nine. The formal part of my class is usually over by eleven, and the place is pretty well cleared out by 11:30. If you don't connect with her before our class, she usually goes into her office after the last student leaves. I'm not sure about what she has on for after lunch. I could check with her when I get there and call you if that would help."
"No, I think I'll try to get to her before your class. Thank you for getting the dishes because I must be on my way. I need to run a couple of errands before I go to the office today."
"Sure thing. Take care, Mom. Love you!"
"Love you, too, dear. See you tonight."
~-~
Christie breezed into the dance studio at about ten after nine. She passed by Madame's office on her way to the dressing room. The door was cracked open, enough to hear what was going on but not enough to see into the room clearly. An almost familiar voice caught Christie's attention as she passed, bringing her up short. It sounded . . . well, it sounded like her Mom. Maybe Madame had her on speakerphone? That was odd because the only times she'd ever seen Madame take calls, she'd used her Bluetooth earphone on privacy mode.
Come to think of it, it was pretty odd that her Mother said she had a payment issue with Renee. Christie always handled her tuition at the school herself with the debit card Amanda had given her for such expenses. She used it both here and at the dojang for class fees and incidentals like doboks and dance shoes.
She was just about to leave when the familiar voice got louder, almost stern, and was now clearly understandable. "Now, there will be no need to repeat this in the future, will there, pet?. You know better, and you've promised to do better."
"No need at all, Ma'am," another slightly softer voice answered. Was that Madame?!? "I will do better," and that had definitely been Madame Renee's voice! "It won't happen again, Ma'am."
"Excellent! Now, give me a kiss. I must be off before . . ." Madame's door swung open, bringing Mother and daughter face to face. "CHRISTIE!" Amanda almost yelled. "Oh pooh! If you're already here this must have taken longer than I'd planned. Well, it can't be helped. I'll see you tonight, dear, as we planned. Now, don't you need to get ready for Madame's class?" At Christie's goggle-eyed nod, she smiled. "Good. Run along then. Renee? Walk me out, please."
Dumbstruck, Christie just watched as the two women strode for the studio foyer, her Mother clearly in the lead with Renee hustling to keep up. What the heck? That was . . . weird. Definitely weird. And hadn't she heard her Mother ask Renee to give her a kiss? No, she hadn't asked. She'd told Renee to give her a kiss.
All Christie could think was, "Oh. My. God." And then hustle off to get ready for class. Maybe she'd have time for a short meditation, too. She REALLY needed to clear her thoughts!
~-~
Madame Coulter was in the studio when Christie came out. Seeing her student, she beckoned her over. "Christie, after we finish our barre and positions work, I want to work with the more advanced students in a small group session. Would you mind working with the younger students? Our summer exhibition will be later this year than last, and I would like our newer students ready to dance in the Corps de Ballet. Could you give them some practice in synchronizing their movements?"
Delighted to have the opportunity, Christie nodded, even as one of her 'Little Christie' memories flashed in her mind. "I remember my first exhibition here when I was a little girl. I was in the Corps when we did the Waltz of the Flowers from the Nutcracker. None of us were advanced enough to go en pointe, so we did an alternative choreography. If that's all right with you, Madame, we can work with that."
"Oh, my yes, that would be perfect. I know the youngsters are all anxious to go on their tip-toes, but they're not ready. That choreography, yes, I remember it. And I even have the music in the system. You can have the main studio, and I'll take the older students into the small studio. Thank you, Christie."
"Umm, sure, Madame. I love doing that, but aren't you going to be here to watch? Make sure I don't mess them up?"
"Hah! As if! Christie, one thing about you is that you have always been a perfectionist. You just handle it better than I do. . .have. You and the girls will do just fine. And, please, Christie . . .?"
"Yes, Madame?" a thoroughly gobsmacked Christie asked, staring at this strange woman in the Renee Coulter costume.
"Remember to help them find the joy in doing it," Renee half-whispered before turning on her heel and shouting out to the room. "Positions at the barre, everyone!" The students hurried to their assigned positions and assumed their 'attention' stance.
"All right, ladies. After we finish our fundamentals today, we will split up into two groups. I will take the advanced group into the small studio so we can start work on our late-summer exhibition. Assistant Dance Mistress Christie will work with our newer students on some lovely choreography for the same show.
Christie goggled at that. Assistant Dance Mistress?? Where did that come from, she thought even as Madame continued. Just two things, girls! Christie IS in charge, right?"
A giggle rippled through the studio as all the younger students responded together as they'd been taught, "Yes, Dance Mistress Renee."
Nodding her head in acknowledgment, Renee's lips quirked upward into a smile. "Second, if you are working with Assistant Dance Mistress Christie, you are not yet ready to start working en pointe. That's okay, this choreography allows that, and I'm sure you'll all be beautiful. Just let me say again, NO en pointe until I and ONLY I tell you that you are ready. You might hurt yourselves and miss performing in my exhibition. You don't want to miss my exhibition. Trust me! I will be meaner than Cinderella's wicked stepmother if you get hurt! You do not even want to think about what I'll be like if you miss our exhibition for that reason. Everyone clear on this?"
Twenty voices in unison answered, "Yes, Dance Mistress Renee."
"Excellent, such smart students. Very well, First Position, everybody! We have a great deal to accomplish today."
Well, thought Christie as she moved her hands and feet into the First Position, wasn't that weird? She had girls giggling in class, and she called me Assistant Dance Mistress? As if I needed more to think about today.
~-~
The girls had been great for Christie. They'd worked very hard and accomplished quite a bit but still managed to have fun doing it. By the end of the one-hour session, they could string together five positions in the choreography and perform them in sync with each other and the music. Almost. Still, it had been grand. As a treat, Christie had demonstrated the entire dance for them towards the end of class so they could see what they were working towards. She even remembered not to go en pointe herself as she wanted to set a good example.
Actually, they went a little over their scheduled class time because the girls hadn't wanted to quit. Finally, Christie had been forced to put her foot down, reluctantly she privately admitted, so that Madame could get ready for her afternoon classes. Mothers and older sisters who'd arrived just before class was supposed to end had watched as their budding ballerinas floated about the studio under Christie's watchful eye. Their impromptu audience saw that the girls were working hard and smiling hugely.
As the studio finally started to empty, Christie saw Renee and all but bounded over to her. "Oh, Thank you, Madame! That was so much fun! Thank you for letting me work with them like that."
"And from what I saw, quite productively, too. Suppose our young dancers continue such effort and dedication. In that case, we'll be doing that dance at the exhibition, and they will all be wonderful! Thank you, Christie."
"You . . .you want me to keep doing that? Working with them on the choreography? Getting them ready to dance in the exhibition?"
"Well, you are the Assistant Dance Mistress, aren't you? And by the way, if you're going to be helping with the teaching, I will need to make some accommodation in your tuition - something of a stipend discount, I think."
Practically bouncing in glee, it was all Christie could do not to hug the older woman. "Oh, that is just super, Madame! Thank you again," Only to be surprised when Renee frowned and began clasping her hands together almost nervously. "Are you all right, Madame?"
"Oh, I'm fine, Christie, thank you for asking. Ummm, but I do feel that an apology might be in order, though."
"OH! What did I do, Madame?" Christie asked, suddenly worried. "If it was my presence this morning, I assure you I didn't mean to eavesdrop. I just heard my Mom's voice and . . ."
"Stop," Renee said, holding her hand up between them. "It's nothing like that, and I'm the one who needs to apologize. Yesterday, my comment about how partnering you might injure a danseur. In the parlance of the dance, I all but called you a fat cow. It just came out, and it wasn't fair. Even if you had stayed in my classes, your growth spurt would still have happened. In fact, it might have been worse because of what someone as disciplined and determined as you might have done to control your weight. Truthfully, it was just my own sadness that you won't learn to be the dancer I envisioned up till that point. A professional, fully trained danseur would have no problem partnering with you. Sadly, none of my boys are likely to develop the ability and strength necessary to support your training. They certainly don't have it now. My comment was out of line, and I am very sorry if I hurt your feelings yesterday."
"Oh, Madame, no, I wasn't hurt or upset. You didn't say anything I haven't said to or about myself. I took it as a light-hearted tease and appreciated that you felt comfortable enough with me to tease me. We've come a long way since January."
A single tear leaked from the older woman's eyes. "Well, I'm glad you understood then and now. We have come far together. Oh, my, look at the time. I'm going to be late for a luncheon engagement if I don't hurry off. See you next class, dear."
Christie just stood there for a few moments, watching Renee bustle off to her office and wonder what had just happened. Good Grief! Renee Coulter had just APOLOGIZED to her! For what was nothing worse than a typically snide Renee sort of jibe! Not only that! She had really meant it! And Oh My God!! Renee Coulter had called Christie 'dear'. Really??!?
Shaking her head, Christie slowly headed out of the studio to her car. "The day just keeps getting weirder and weirder," she told herself quietly.
Now, she was almost afraid to see what came next!
~-~
Even after nearly an entire year of living as a girl and a 17 year lifetime of girl 'memories', one thing Christie still tended to overthink was wardrobe selection. Charlie had it easy. Slacks or jeans, a t-shirt or polo and cross trainers served just fine for almost any masculine need. A little chilly? Fine, add a hoodie. Really warm outside? Okay, switch to shorts. Easy. As a girl, though? Eh, not so much.
Girls worried about their clothes. Was this outfit too formal or that one too casual? Were these accessories appropriate to her ensemble and the event? And worst of all? What type of shoes to wear with her 'final' choices. Christie' felt she was adequately girl-indoctrinated that proper answers to all those conundrums and an untold myriad of vital questions about her couture mattered to her. A lot.
Actually, most times, she really didn't have any real problem with her attire. Like her Mother had told her, if she just went with the flow and let her 'inner girl' take charge, everything, including clothes, just seemed to fall into place for her. Unfortunately, Christie hadn't listened to her 'inner-girl' tonight. Her bed, where most of her closet's contents lay haphazardly discarded, was proof-positive on that score. Yup, she was guilty of vestigial male clothing indecision! Her sentence? Put everything away properly before her Mother got home to give her grief about the mess.
AFTER, she finally let her 'inner-girl' select her outfit! So, squaring her shoulders and giving herself a stern mental talking-to, Christie had settled down and worked it out. After all, they were going to a diner, not a four-diamond restaurant. She was going to visit her best girlfriend, not pay a formal call on a visiting dignitary or meet some superstar boy-band heartthrob.
Ultimately, much to Christie's dismay, when she saw herself in the mirror, her 'inner-girl' had selected the female version of Charlie's go-to guy outfit. Her favorite denim skirt replaced the jeans. She wore a comfy but flattering t-shirt over a matching summer camisole instead of Charlie's polo. She completed her look with a pretty, comfortable pair of low-heeled sandals.
That had been just too simple, she groused to herself. Why hadn't she picked this outfit an hour ago? Because you were overthinking again, McKellar. Okay, but she wasn't going to agonize over her makeup!
SURE she wasn't.
Fortunately, Amanda arrived after Christie had restored order to her closet, but before she could fret herself into changing. Amanda hauled her daughter off to their favorite small-town diner. "You look nice, dear," her Mother said as she started her car. "Simple, yet neat. And how long did it take you to choose your outfit tonight?"
Christie resisted gritting her teeth and snarling. Amanda knew her too well, so she decided to make light of the experience, hoping to deflect further parental teasing. "Oh, not long at all, Mom. Actually, putting everything away and reorganizing my closet is what really took the time. Good thing I was home from the studio by one o'clock, huh?"
"Well, I'm sure you had enough time to try just about everything in your closet," Amanda replied in her deadpan Mother-voice before laughing with her daughter.
The diner wasn't far from their home, so they were inside and waiting to be seated by 5:45. While they waited for the hostess to return to escort them to their table, Christie felt an irresistible need to check her hair and makeup. Amanda watched bemused as her daughter pulled a comb and mirrored compact from her purse and began fussing with her hair.
"What are you doing?" She finally asked as Christie thoroughly inspected her face in the tiny mirror. "You look fine."
The question actually startled Christie, who stared at the comb and compact as if trying to figure out where they'd come from. Looking up from her mirror, Christie started to say something but frowned as she really considered her Mother's question. After several moments, she took a deep breath and replied, "I don't know, Mom. I don't think I've ever just started mindlessly primping in public for no apparent reason before, but all of a sudden, I had this urge to make sure I looked all right. . . No, wait, that's not quite it. I really wanted to look the best I could, and I was annoyed that I didn't have all my makeup with me."
"Well, that's out of character for you. An urge, you say? Weird."
Christie sighed as she returned her grooming tools to her purse. "Weird is my word of the day, Mom. No reason that here and now should be any different."
"Oh, really?" Amanda asked with a smile. "Well, here's the hostess. Let's get seated, and then you can tell your Mama all about it."
They ordered their dinners, deciding to share a salad made using the same ingredients as a muffuletta sandwich and iced tea. "So, daughter-dear, tell me all about your 'weird is the word of the day.' Inquiring mothers want to know."
Sighing, Christie took a sip of water and gave a short grimace. "We'll just take it as a given that I failed to let my inner-girl out to help choose my outfit tonight and paid for it in post ensemble closet restoration. As to my other weirdnesses today? Let me count the ways. Dance class went surprisingly great. I did get to work with young girls - Renee made me Assistant Dance Mistress. That was weird, but things got really strange after she did that. Renee had the girls giggling - right there in class - and she didn't get snarky about it. She was, well. . .she was pleasant."
Shaking her head at that memory, Christie continued. "Then, after class? When the kids had left? She apologized. To ME, and I'm absolutely sure she meant it, too. Do you remember I told you about her little zinger yesterday about me being too big for her danseurs to partner? She was concerned I was upset and wanted to apologize. That's a first in all the time Christie remembers working with her. And she will give me a discount on my class fees for working with the younger girls!"
Christie blew out a breath as she remembered the Renee incident. Then she saw her Mother grinning slyly at her. That brought yet another weird event back to mind. "And I distinctly heard you, in Renee's office this morning, tell her, not ask her, mind you, but TELL her to kiss you. Something's really weird with that, Mom. What the heck is going on with you and Renee, for goodness sake??!"
Surprisingly, her Mother's grin didn't leave her face, and in fact, it only dimmed a little before she shook her head and chuckled to herself. "Okay, I hear you, but that is not something to discuss here and now, Christie. It involves information that is SPECIAL MCKELLAR FAMILY related. Special as it relates to you, me, and my Mom, okay?" She stopped and stared intently at Christie, who immediately understood her Mother's reference to the family's magical legacy and nodded her acceptance. "Definitely not for public consumption. If you must know, and now that it is out in the open, I think you do, I'll tell you about it tonight after we get home. Okay?"
Christie tried for a classic 'put upon teenager sneer' and almost made it to the apparent amusement of Amanda. "Okay, Mom," she growled before brightening. "Look! Food!"
Their salad was spicy and filling and required several iced tea refills as they ate to cool their mouths. Amanda was just getting ready to signal their waiter for their bill when Christie suddenly sat up very straight, pursed her lips and crossed her eyes. Shock evident in her face, Christie started, "What was tha-a-a-a-. . ."
She never finished her question. As Amanda watched helplessly, her daughter's body went rigid, her tongue flicked out as if trying to wet her lips. At the same time, she began to breathe deeply, almost gasping, through her nose and mouth. Her eyes were tightly closed, and she remained absolutely still like that for several interminable moments before uttering a soft, relieved sigh. Then, just as quickly as it had started, Christie went limp, her relaxing body sliding down into her chair.
Amanda's healer talents went instantly on high alert! She reached out to grasp her daughter's hands firmly in her own to forge the closest possible healing link between them. Urgently, she pushed her healing energy into her daughter, hoping to stop whatever had caused the seizure and arrest any associated harm.
Meanwhile, her scans didn't turn up anything particularly wrong with the teen. Christie's pulse was elevated but returned to normal even as Amanda scanned. The only other abnormality she could sense was that Christie's endorphin concentration in her bloodstream seemed higher than Amanda might typically expect to detect.
Finding nothing wrong with her daughter she could fix - for the second time - and no indication of what had caused this reaction frustrated Amanda greatly. Amanda squeezed her daughter's hand, trying to rouse her. Finally, Amanda called her by name, no longer caring if she made a public scene. "Christie! What happened?"
Her daughter's eyes fluttered momentarily before opening and beginning to clear. "Umm, wow! What the heck happened? I don't quite know, Mom. God, I seem to be saying that a lot today. Let me think - see if I can make any sense of this." Closing her eyes, Christie focused on what she had just experienced. She began to speak softly as her memory played what she could remember back to her slowly. "When it first started, I got this sort of pleasant sensation around my lips, and then . . .I felt angry? No, not angry, frustrated - VERY frustrated, and I wanted to do something about it, only I didn't know what to do about whatever was bothering me. Then the world just went white. I wasn't thinking; I wasn't really feeling. And then it was over, and I felt completely boneless."
Amanda made another quick check of her daughter's condition. Again, she found nothing wrong while all her vitals had returned to normal levels. "Are you all right? Maybe we should skip the visit tonight?"
Christie considered that and then shook her head. "I think I'm okay, and I really wanted to get both of us close enough to Valerie that we could try to tag team her with our combined healing. I don't think we should put that off any longer than necessary."
"Well, if you're sure," Amanda offered, clearly unhappy with her failure to determine the cause of Christie's apparent seizure. "Let's pay our bill and get going. Maybe your next event will happen there, and the doctors will be useful."
~-~
The drive to the hospital passed in silence. Both women contemplated the day's events and planned for what was yet to come. Amanda was deeply concerned about the strange seizure Christie had just suffered. If she included the sharp, persistent pain in her daughter's buttocks two days ago, that was two unexplained events in the past seventy-two hours. Were they related? Without any actual data, the answer was, at best, a firm 'maybe.' What she needed to do was prepare as if they were somehow connected. Racking her brain during the drive, she had only come up with one cause that fit her current information. Christie might well be the focus of some type of magical or paranormal attack. If that was the case, it was pretty darned subtle as, so far, Amanda hadn't been able to determine and/or track the cause. She was going to have to call her own Mother and see if she had any ideas or knew of any other practitioners who might be able to help them.
For her part, Christie was trying to come up with a way to use her precognitive abilities covertly in Valerie's presence. With Papa Kim's help, she'd gotten better at focusing that magical power while meditating. Unfortunately, going into a meditative trance was rather obvious, and questions Christie did not want to be asked would be asked. Somehow, she needed a method to prevent anyone other than her Mom from seeing what she was doing - including Valerie, she suddenly realized. Maybe Mom could put her to sleep? Probably. Perhaps Mom might have an easy way to keep outside eyes away as well?
"Mom?"
"Mmm, Yes, Christie?"
"I was wondering. Suppose I need to go into a trance for a short while in Valerie's room. Do you have some way to shield us from monitoring and nosy outsiders until I've finished?"
"How long do you think you'll need? Ten or fifteen minutes is easy enough. Would that be sufficient?"
"Should be. If it isn't, what I'm looking for is probably beyond my current ability level anyway. I want to try the tricks Papa Kim taught me to focus my precognitive abilities. I want to look at Valerie's future recovery. May not work because I'm not sure I can combine my healer's sight with the precognition, but I still want to try."
"I can't see how that could hurt Valerie, and you might learn something. Some things actually, like about her future and more about how your powers work. Okay, just let me know when to shield us."
"And since Val isn't in the know about those powers, maybe you could put her to sleep while I look?"
"No problem, dear. Well, here we are. Let me find a place to park, and we'll go check in at the visitors' desk."
~-~
They arrived at Valerie's room shortly after seven o'clock. Currently, she was the room's only occupant, so she had a clear view of the door. "Christie! Mrs. M! How great to see you! Thank you for coming."
"They wouldn't let us in until they moved you out of the ICU," Christie grumped. "Said BFFs didn't qualify as immediate family members. Stupid rules."
She and Amanda moved a couple of chairs closer to Valerie's bed when Christie noticed a vase full of pink carnations displayed where Val could see them easily. "Hey, nice flowers, girlfriend. A gift from the hospital's therapy dog?"
Valerie snorted out a laugh. "As if! And you know very well who they're from, wise apple! I have it on excellent authority that you threatened Daniel with bodily harm if he didn't come and visit me. Good job, by the way! Thanks, girlfriend. I'm guessing you also clued him in on the flowers?"
"Yeah. He was so damned cute, hemming and hawing about coming. Did he tell you he thought you and I were a couple, and he didn't want to intrude on us?"
Eyes wide, Valerie giggled. "A Couple? Us?? You're kidding. Really?"
"Nope, not kidding; it was kind of sweet of him, to tell the truth. So you got the visit and the flowers, huh? Not bad, Val. Maybe next time, you'll really luck out and get a kiss when the nurses aren't looking."
"What do you mean next time, girlfriend?" Val challenged, eyes twinkling in remembered mirth.
Christie squealed and bounced in her seat. "Deets, Valerie," she demanded sternly. "I'm your BFF! The Girl Club rules say you have to give me all the details!"
"If you girls are going to start lying . . .I mean, talking about boys, I will make a quick visit to the ladies' room," Amanda interrupted. "I'll be back in about ten minutes. Try to have all the salacious revelations out of the way by then, hmmm? I'm not sure my poor old heart could stand the excitement."
Valerie grinned as Christie pulled her chair up closer to the head of her friend's bed. "Your Mom is just so great! I just love her."
"Yeah, yeah, I love her, too. Now, on with the nitty-gritty. How the heck did you coax a kiss out of Mr. Shy Guy?"
"Well, it wasn't as easy as it should have been. Right off the bat, I was a little ticked off that I didn't have any warning, and that's partly YOUR fault, Christie. Worse, I didn't have anything here to fix myself up with. There I was, bored out of my mind, watching Oprah, and the nurse came in to tell me I had a visitor - Daniel something. Ack! No comb, no brush, no mirror, and the guy I have evil intentions for is here to see me! I went a little nuts and started finger combing my hair and did the romance novel 'slap your face' trick to ensure I had some color, you know? And there he was - all tall and cute and trying to hide behind that damned flower vase! I almost laughed, but I was too excited just then."
"I'm still not hearing any kissy deets here, Stevens. I'm beginning to think you may have had delusions instead." Christie prodded.
"Oh, you'll get the details, McKellar. Anyway, I kept licking my lips and looking up at him worshipfully."
"Right, worshipfully. More like a starving predator licking her chops before taking a big honking bite."
"Well, maybe, but he still sallied forth and kept coming closer and closer. And then he stopped. Finally, I just told him he was required to kiss me and help make it better. I didn't know eyes could get THAT wide, and I was afraid, just for a moment, he was going to bolt. But he didn't!" Valerie reported, looking very self-satisfied and smug. "I actually saw him center himself. You know, the way they teach us when we're going to attempt a breaking at the dojang? Exactly the same. And then? He leaned over me and was damned careful not to touch me with his hands - DAMMIT! And kissed me. A sweet, tender little peck on the lips. Just like he might give to a favorite maiden aunt or little sister!"
Christie couldn't help it. She chortled at Val's description. "And then?"
"Well, I guess as first kisses go, it was probably okay. I mean, my eyes crossed from it, all right? But then he started to stand up! Let me tell you! That didn't suit me at all! He wasn't getting off THAT easy. Before he could step back out of reach, I had him by the collar of his shirt, dragged him back down to face level and laid one on him! I didn't let go right away, either!"
"Wow, way to go, Val! What did he do? Fight to get away and preserve your suspect virtue?"
"Ha!" Valerie crowed. "Maybe for a second, but when I didn't let go, he started kissing me back, and man, that boy can KISS! I mean, the whole world just went WHITE! My body locked up." Valerie glanced at the door and then leaned over closer to Christie and whispered, "I think I actually came! One second, every muscle in my body feels wound tight, and then, SNAP, total relaxation. God, it was wonderful. The only problem was that he managed to get loose."
"Aww, poor baby," Christie managed to tease. "Kiss-us interruptus!" but her mind was swirling as she connected Valerie's description of her interlude and her own recent seizure episode at the diner. "Umm, Val? About what time did Daniel get here? Do you remember?"
"Hmm, not really sure, but maybe ten minutes before six? Oprah was still on, but they were getting ready to wrap it up for the day. Yeah, that's about as close as I can get without a clock."
"And there you were, all ready to claim your man, and you didn't have any of your girl tools."
"Yeah! That still pisses me off! Mom is bringing me a mirror, comb and brush tomorrow, but the hospital won't let me have any makeup. Atmospheric contaminants, allergic reactions or other such garbage."
"So, how long did he stay? We didn't run into him on our way up here."
"Maybe a half hour, forty minutes? I remember the six-thirty news was already on when he left but hadn't gone to their first commercial break yet. Maybe six-forty or a little earlier. Thereabouts."
"And the kissing happened how long before he left?"
"Lord, McKellar, I should have video recorded it for you! Sheesh. It wasn't that long before he left, that's for sure. If he stayed more than five minutes after the last kiss, it wasn't by much. I think I scared him," she confided smugly. "I am, after all, a very dangerous woman."
The girls laughed over that, but all Christie could think was, 'It's like we shared the whole visit experience! I wonder . . .'
Christie suddenly squirmed in her seat. "What's the matter, Christie? Something wrong with the chair?"
"No, the chair's fine. Just my bottom is tender. I was out with my Mom a couple of days ago, and something stung me - HARD - right on my butt cheek, and then, whatever it was, did it again to my other cheek. It really hurt! I had to ride home in the car's back seat on my tummy. It's mostly okay now, but I think I've been overdoing it just a bit today and aggravated it."
"Really? Well, my butt got stung, too, but I KNOW what and who did it to me! The doctors had this nutritional supplement combined with an anticoagulant or some such thing. It had to be injected into large muscle tissue. Hurt like a bitch, I tell you. I couldn't stand to put any weight on my butt for a whole day! As a matter of fact, that was two days ago, too. They wanted to administer it while I was still in the ICU so they could monitor my response. My response was pain!"
Christie maneuvered the conversation to other topics, filling in Valerie on what she knew about Tad while she was at it. She told Val how much fun she had that morning teaching the little ones at dance class when Amanda walked back in.
"Is it safe for someone over thirty in here yet?"
"Sure is. Hey, Mom, you want to show me where the little girls' room is and then keep Val company till I get back?"
Amanda nearly just told her daughter to ask the nurse at the nursing station but caught something in Christie's look. "Sure thing, Honey. Be right back, Valerie."
Christie checked for anyone close by outside the room and whispered urgently to her Mother. "Mom, everything odd that's happened to me, the stings, the seizure, even the orgasm?"
"What orgasm, Missy??!" Amanda hissed back, shocked.
"The seizure thing at the diner might have been an orgasm. Anyway, all those issues correlate to things that happened to Valerie. She got these massive shots in her butt, and I felt them. She was super frustrated with her appearance when Daniel showed up, so I fussed with mine. She got kissed and almost blacked out from the physical release. I felt the same things. The times seem to match up, too."
"That's a little hard to believe, Christie."
"I think when I established the first healing link with her, after the attack by Tad? I was still unconsciously focusing my power as I had when I kicked Tad and shattered his knee. I didn't know I was doing that, but maybe I somehow linked us psychically at the same time?"
"Okay, assume it is possible. What now, and how do we find out? More importantly, how do we find out without tipping Valerie off?"
"I think I really need to try the precognitive trance with her now. Don't know if it will tell us anything, but it's the only thing I can think of to do. While I'm gone, put her to sleep. When I come back in, set your shield up. We'll do the combined healer intervention first, and then I'll go into my meditative trance."
"Sounds like a plan. Okay. Valerie will be asleep in five minutes. Don't be too much longer than that."
Valerie was indeed asleep when Christie returned. As one, the two women went to stand on either side of Val's bed. They each placed one hand on Valerie's head while holding each other's hand with their free hand. Christie could feel and 'see' her Mother's power flowing into her friend but couldn't really tell what was happening. Christie knew she was limited in what she could do with her untrained powers. Therefore, she attempted to merge her strength with her Mom. Perhaps Amanda's already superior abilities could be strengthened if Christie could put her healing energy at her Mom's disposal. Amanda grunted in surprise but then began using the shared power as if it were her own. Christie thought it helped but still couldn't tell for sure.
Finally, Amanda broke their connection to Valerie. "Good thinking, love," she smiled tiredly to her daughter. "Giving me your energy made a difference. I think we improved her, just a little The damage definitely won't spread any further, I'm sure. However, I still don't have the sufficiently fine control to repair what is still damaged at the cellular level."
"It's something, at least. Now, let me get into the precognitive state so we can finish up, But you look exhausted, Mom. Will you still be able to maintain the shield?"
"Ten minutes on the outside. Less would be more certain."
Nodding, Christie settled into the lotus position and found her center. She quickly entered her meditative trance and then shifted her focus to Valerie . . .and their future.
A few minutes later, Christie awakened and sighed. "You can drop the shield now, Mom. I'm pretty sure that Valerie and I are psychically bonded."
"What the hell, McKellar," came the sleep-faint voice of Valerie Stevens. "I FELT you. You were in my head. What's with that?"'
Amanda and Christie gaped at each other in stunned surprise. "Oh, crap!" they said simultaneously.
~-~
It was just after ten o'clock when the McKellars arrived home, Which was the direct result of an irate night nurse all but physically evicting them from Valerie's room. Okay, so they had sort of ignored the first two friendlier reminders that visiting hours were over. Amanda had been too tired to shield them from the nurses and monitoring equipment anymore that night. They'd again ignored the second polite reminder to leave so they could impress on Valerie how vital secrecy about the link was.
As much as any of them understood it. Nowhere in Amanda's books had the possibility of pervasive psychic link been addressed. Links, such as the type Amanda used for healing, were supposedly only ephemeral, typically lasting only so long as the sorcerer focused power on it. Even Amanda's Mother, who had been called by Christie on the drive home, was at a loss to understand such bonding was possible.
Fortunately, they'd gotten Valerie's promise to keep quiet about what she'd learned, provided Amanda and Christie came back to fill in the blanks. Amanda smiled as she remembered the 'pinky-swear' promise Christie had insisted upon with Valerie. Evidently, another one of those 'girl club' rules her daughter had learned from her experiences the past year. Actually, that was a memory Amanda knew she'd treasure for the rest of her life. Now, if she could somehow manage to forget the image of her seventeen-year-old daughter having a public orgasm in their favorite diner. Win some; lose some.
Christie looked longingly at the stairs that led to her bedroom. She was so far past tired she was positively dragging. Amanda wasn't much better off. "Mom?" she called out as Amanda settled into her favorite easy chair.
"Yes, Christie?"
"I know you said we'd talk about you and Renee tonight, but I don't think either of us thought we'd be getting home this late Maybe we should hold off until tomorrow?"
Amanda took a moment to gather her tired wits and considered her daughter's offer. She was tired, and the request was very tempting. Unfortunately, tomorrow at work was jam-packed, so if they didn't discuss it now, Christie's questions would have to languish unanswered until after dinner tomorrow night. "I think we should at least deal with the crux of it tonight, or we'll both worry over it until we do. I don't want it getting blown out of proportion by either of us, so I'll give you the bare facts, and then we can discuss them in more detail later if you still have questions. Take a seat, Christie."
Christie sat across from her Mother on their sofa. "Okay, Mom, Thanks."
"Right. I was attracted to girls before I was transformed into Aaron. Oh, I liked boys well enough, and I did my share of high school flirting with them. However, I was careful not to let the other girls in my class know how I felt about some of them. It simply wasn't done, don't you know, back in the Dark Ages."
"Yeah, um, that's what, about 20 years ago That's like, the New Millennium, right?"
"True, true, but pre-Aaron, I was a fifteen-year-old high school sophomore and apparently not quite as jaded and worldly as you are now. ANYway . . .at age sixteen, I transformed into Aaron, and lo and behold, girls were now fair game. I think I still had some degree of attraction to boys, but I suppressed that as best I could. I knew I didn't want the hassle of dealing with the 'phobes for what I was sure would only be one year.
"And at the end of the year, I did complete my transformation back to Amanda, but now I was an Amanda who had a lot more experience romancing girls. I still liked and dated boys, but I began to think I liked girls more. I went to college, became a lug, graduated and started work as a paralegal law clerk. My plan was that I'd eventually take the Bar exam and become an attorney, but then I met your father. That was it for me. Six months later, I was a bride. Eighteen months later, I was a mother. Twelve months after that, I was a widow."
"I'm so glad you're my Mom, you know. I want you to be very sure of that!"
Amanda smiled and dabbed at a tear. "Thanks, honey. Okay, you need to understand that the rest of this story is about Amanda in the Charlie Timeline."
"Sounds like a science fiction thriller."
"Eh, more like a paranormal romance. I never was that attracted to another man - not in either timeline. I dated guys, and I even had some 'friends with benefits' along the way. Now that you're Christie, you know that a girl has needs. Those guys scratched the itch, but none of them came close to your Dad. Somewhere along the way, I started dating girls, again. Long about the time Charlie was five or six, I met this really striking woman. Regal, charming, elegant and totally built," Mom said with a wicked grin. "And I fell hard for her. She had been a principal ballerina for the Paris Ballet Company. She was injured in a car accident and needed reconstructive ankle surgery. Even after several surgeries and a great deal of therapy, she couldn't go back to dancing full time. She could still go en pointe, but not long enough at a time to dance professionally, so she became a Dance Mistress."
"Madame Renee?"
"Madame Renee," Amanda answered with a nod. "For the first few months we were seeing each other, I never saw her in her studio, only outside of her work. She liked things her way, but in the beginning, we were in the 'in love and loving it' phase. We would indulge each other when we could, so if I gave into something she wanted, it was okay because she would return the gift later. Gradually, however, she began to take more and give less. That behavior crept into our bedroom. She became more domineering, less patient, less loving and less lovable. One day, she slapped me when I wouldn't do something she wanted in the bedroom. Renee is strong for her size; she's a dancer and an athlete, and she clocked me a good one. However, I am my Mother's daughter and a mighty powwerful sorceress."
"She's lucky you didn't destroy her."
"As I said, I am my Mother's daughter. When Renee woke up, I had her handcuffed to her bed. A large cup with the handcuff key in the bottom was in her hands. I'd used my magic to freeze the water. She needed to thaw the ice to get the key and free herself. I packed any of the stuff I'd kept at her place, drove home to you and Mother, and started over.
"Long story shortened, I wanted to understand her. Actually, I stalked her with my magic helping, so she never knew it. I learned she was just as nasty in her school as at home. When I looked into it, I found that she thought that was how Dance Mistresses taught because that is how she had been taught. Moreover, one of the reasons she became so good as a dancer is that she actually thrived under such treatment. Come to find out that our Renee is really something of a masochist with a solid submissive streak. Something she ruthlessly suppressed when she had to become a teacher."
"You mean, she really thought that acting like a . . .a witch was how you taught ballet?"
"It's how she was taught and all she knew. Anyway, I had no idea how to deal with her. Mother suggested I talk to some experts, so I did. Psychologists, relationship counselors, oh, I talked to a bunch. Then I talked with this one psychiatrist. Interesting lady. She'd paid for her schooling by working in a dungeon as a dominatrix. She understood a great deal about that dynamic. She still practiced, too, although not professionally anymore. Anyway, she got me involved with some local groups who are into that so I could learn more. I found out that I was actually dominant myself. And that, dear daughter, is why Charlie never met any of my dates."
"Ooookay. So you decided to get back with Renee once you understood her and thought you were up to dealing with her issues?"
"Not quite. Fast forward to June of last year. Suddenly, my Karate Kid son Charlie is my ballet princess Christie, who is, wait for it, the student of Madame Renee Coulter."
"Bet that gave you a moment's pause."
"Yes indeedy. But it was the strangest thing. In the Christie Timeline, Renee and Amanda never met. Oh, let me tell you, I did some intense memory mining on that one. It turns out that in this timeline, I met the psychiatrist/dominatrix while I was in college, and she was in graduate school. So I learned all about dominance and submission in the Christie Timeline as her submissive girlfriend. Later, I became her apprentice and then a partner in her dungeon. I actually picked up a large percentage of our 'consultations' when her Medical School commitments ate into her available time. That's why I didn't go to law school in this Timeline. Anyway, we drifted apart. She had to go do her internship and residency so she offered to sell me the dungeon. Only, I didn't really enjoy what we did there enough for that kind of commitment. I like playing my way by my rules; I don't like performing to a script written by somebody else. Anyway, at that point, I started working as a paralegal, met your father, etc., etc., etc."
"It is getting kind of late, Mom," Christie said after glancing at her watch.
"Just a few more things. When you broke it off with Renee, I was relieved, but then you went back to help mentor your young friend. The Renee I knew would have made your time with your lives hell, especially when you had the gall to grow like you did. So I made a point to go to her office and have a few choice words with her. She knew of me - I was a parent of one of her longtime students - so she met with me. Let me tell you, I went loaded for bear - severe hair, stark makeup, tight black suit, black stockings and heels, but instead of a bear what I got was a fragile little bunny rabbit."
"WHAT? Renee? No."
"Yes Seems that she'd just gotten the chewing out of her life by one of her students who demanded, 'Where's the joy, Renee? What makes a kid work hard enough to be good enough if there's no joy in the art?' You broke her, and then I showed up in my stern school-mistress suit, and she just bawled all over me."
"So you kept her?"
"I couldn't just leave her! So I kept her, but now I understood what drove her and what she really needed. So, along with other benefits, I've been helping her rediscover her joy in ballet. You're helping her learn how to impart that to her students."
"And this morning? You said something about a matter of payment?"
Amanda smirked, "Are you sure you really want to know?" At Christie's hesitant nod, the smirk grew. "Be it on your own head, then. Remember I told you she's a bit of a masochist, too? Sometimes, when she feels the need for a little disciplinary attention, she'll misbehave on purpose and make sure I know about it. Injure her danseurs, indeed! Pfft! As if! I got to the seat of that problem for her, right enough, and it worked. She did apologize to you, didn't she?"
"I guess it did. The seat of the problem, eh? Mom, that's just weird. Gee, most kids have to come to grips with their parents having sex. Mine has to go a step further. Promise me, Mom, no leather outfits in the house! Please!"
"Aw, but you'd look so cute in a tight leather catsuit. Very Emma Peel-esque."
"Who the heck is Emma Peel??"
"Look her up on Google, love. Any more questions?"
Shaking her head, Christie stood and offered her Mother a hand up. "Probably, eventually, but I'll be darned if I can think of a single sensible one right now."
Once she was on her feet, Amanda wrapped Christie in a hard hug. "We'll get through this, kiddo. Hang in there for just a little while longer."
Christie simply stood there, enjoying her Mother's hug and basking in her love for several minutes. Before letting each other go, Christie leaned in and kissed her Mother good night. "Love you the mostest! Now, I'm totally exhausted, Mom, and maybe, just maybe? If I'm really lucky, I'll wake up tomorrow and discover that today has just been a bizarre dream. Real Days Just Aren't Supposed to Be This Weird!"
~-~
Mind, Body and Spirit Redux, Part 18
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Continued by Paula Dillon and Tigger
Part 18 - Possibilities and Preparations
I - The Morning After
Amanda woke the next morning and stretched. A quick sniff of the air told her Christie was already up and had programmed coffee - as usual, but still greatly appreciated nonetheless. Amanda wasn't sure which was the better 'waker-upper,' the first sip or the first smell of coffee in the morning. She simply relished both.
Except for the surprising visit with Valerie last night, Amanda had a wonderful day yesterday. She'd gotten through everything at work and had enjoyed a wonderful luncheon get-together with Renee. Admittedly even the revelation of her extraordinary social life to her daughter had been far more straightforward than she'd feared. In fact, she had concluded she was glad that she'd been able to come out to Christie and not to Charlie. Boys could be strange about some things, as her experience with her son in the 'Charlie Time Line' had taught her. Girls were just so much more resilient when it came to relationship issues. Even though Charlie was still there, lurking in the back of Christie's pretty head, her daughter mainly was all girl now. Well, except maybe when she tried to get dressed up.
Fifteen minutes later, showered, dressed and ready for the new day, Amanda headed down to the kitchen for her coffee. As she poured the first cup, she looked outside, expecting to see Christie finishing up her morning exercise regimen, only she wasn't out in her usual spot. Curious, Amanda went around to look out the patio doors and saw her daughter. She was seated in the lotus position, facing the rising sun. Usually, Christie would be hurrying inside to shower and get ready for breakfast by now. Concerned, Amanda slipped out the patio door and went over to stand in front of her girl. She didn't speak, unsure of the correct way to wake someone so deep in meditation. Should she shake her? What?
Amanda was about to go inside and call Papa Kim for answers when Christie's eyes blinked open. "You're blocking my sunlight, Mom."
"Oh, pardon me, but I just now realized I didn't know how to snap you out of your trance - safely anyway."
Christie laughed. "I'm not really unconscious when I meditate, so you don't have to worry about me going all 'fight or flight' on you. A light tap on the shoulder should work and will be safe enough. What's up?"
"You weren't where I expected you to be, and you weren't doing what I expected you to be doing, so I got concerned. Why aren't you doing your exercises?"
"Finished them almost an hour ago. I even got in two Tai Chi long forms, too."
Suddenly all maternal concern, Amanda pounced at that. "When did you get up?? Are you all right? Did you have trouble sleeping after your weird day yesterday? Any bad dreams?!?"
"Once I managed to sleep, I slept fine, and no, I didn't have any bad dreams. Then I woke up at about four o'clock, and well. . . . Let's just say I couldn't get back to sleep. Let me shower, and I'll tell you about it over coffee and breakfast, okay?"
~-~
Thoroughly frustrated and wanting answers, Amanda waited impatiently for Christie's return. She tried to distract herself by pouring coffee, cutting fruit and dishing up yogurt, but that was too quickly finished. So when her daughter, all fresh and sweet from her shower, walked back into the kitchen, Amanda pounced! "What TOOK you so long, and what the heck do you mean you slept fine but couldn't fall asleep and then woke before the birds!? You got some 'splainin' to do here, girl!"
"Mom, chill! And I didn't take any longer than usual. In fact, I skipped shampoo and conditioner because I wanted to get back down and talk to you."
"Well, whatever you want to discuss can wait, young lady! What was your problem falling and staying asleep!?"
Amanda took a threatening step towards her daughter when Christie shook her head and smiled wryly. "Well, if you really want to know, Mom, my problems were at least part YOUR fault."
"MY FAULT!?!?"
Now Christie giggled. Her Mom was really spun up. This was out of character for the typically calm, in-control woman. "Yes, Your fault! At least, in part. After all, you were the one who threw out that line. . .what was it? Oh, yeah. 'Emma Peel-esque .'I'd never even HEARD of any Emma Peel who wore catsuits, and it bugged me, okay? So I pulled out my handy-dandy smartphone, and by the power of Google, I found THIS . . .
Christie offered her Mother the smartphone with a full-screen image on the display.
Now Amanda managed to smile. "Yes, that would definitely keep me awake at night. Really sexy snake, too." She then began to quickly enter her own search into the phone.
"Sexy SNAKE?? Mom, EWWW!!"
"What? I like snakes. But, since we were talking about Emma Peel and leather catsuits. THIS is more along the lines of which I was thinking . . ." Amanda handed Christie the phone with a different image displayed, crossed her arms and smirked. "Almost seems modest, eh, Missy?"
Christie stared at the picture for a few moments and then realized. "Somebody made a kid's model kit of her? REALLY?"
"Oh, come on now. Emma Peel is much better covered than Wonder Woman or Supergirl. They had model kits, too; I guarantee those were targeted at the younger male demographic."
Christie took her seat at the breakfast bar, staring at the picture. "Well, I found what I found, and I'm not sure that finding your picture would have helped as I was already . . .disturbed from our discussion of your, umm . . .relationships, I guess? Add in my long-distance threesome with Valerie and Daniel? Well, let's just say I remembered my second birds and the bees session with you and needed some female system maintenance before I could sleep."
If anything, Amanda's smirk grew more expansive, and she sang, "Let your fingers do the walking da di da da." And then laughed out loud as her daughter flushed bright red. "I assume your . . .adjustments helped? You did get to sleep?"
Still blushing, Christie managed a small smile. "Eventually. It was a little weird, which was in keeping with the rest of my yesterday, but afterward? I was sort of annoyed. At what I couldn't quite figure out then, although I have a theory now after this morning."
"Oh, something you learned during your meditation?" Amanda asked, very intense and interested now.
"Some of it came to me then. However, my first real clue was after I woke in the grips of one bodacious orgasm! At first, I just put it down to a girl's version of a wet dream and a result of all the agitation from yesterday and last night coming out."
"Girls do have sexy dreams, Christie. I think we discussed this during B&B2, The Femme Side discussion."
"And that's what I thought until I got this, oh, I don't know, feeling? Sense? It felt like when I was a kid after someone pranked me and said, 'nyah nyah .' Still feeling pretty glowy, I think I replied - sort of 'Okay, bring it on!'"
"That doesn't sound like something to lose sleep over. You were probably half awake - half asleep and still experiencing whatever dream started your motor running."
Christie's smile dimmed, and she turned serious. "Except I wasn't asleep or dreaming. Especially when I started getting these nebulous feelings of surprise, annoyance and maybe even fear. Mom, they were like the glimpses I get on a dreaming precog when I'm not focused and meditating. Anyway, I couldn't get back to sleep, so I got up, did a heavier than normal morning workout, and then meditated focused on the sunrise."
"Okay," Amanda said thoughtfully. "From your demeanor, I'd say you learned something. What?"
"It's the link with Valerie. Now that we're both aware of it, it seems to be getting stronger. Last night? When I jilled off? Evidently, she sensed it through the link. The annoyance I felt? That was Val trying to get back to sleep. Near as I can tell without talking to her? She probably woke up a little before four AM by a nurse or some such person and needed to relieve her own stress afterward. The 'nyah nyah' was her thinking about our shared orgasm and wondering if it had happened again. She sensed my response, which caused her surprise-fear reaction I felt."
Amanda took a fortifying sip of coffee as she considered the possibilities of Christie's theory. Had anyone who was not immediate family ever had such a window into her family's sorcerous affairs? Not that she could think of. Another issue for her Mom to research the family records. "And you think it is getting stronger? This link?"
"I think so. I think it's like learning any new skill. The more you do it, the better you get. In our case, I think our brains optimize whatever neural pathways we use."
"What? You can read each other's minds? Telepathy??!"
Christie thought for a moment and then shook her head. "No, nothing that clear. At least, not yet. It's more like what I always imagined empathy to be when I read a fantasy novel. Sensations, emotions, feelings? Those seem to come across. The stronger, the more clearly, too, so, well, SEX!!"
"Oh, of course, sex. The more primal the response is, the more easily it seems to transfer. Remember you felt annoyance and fear."
"Yup, and that brings up the big question. How much do we tell Val about us and about our powers? If this thing eventually becomes almost telepathic, keeping secrets from her is gonna be kind of hard, ya know?"
"Even about Charlie, dear?"
"Oh god, I don't even want to think about having this link, not even THIS strong as Charlie! Can you imagine 'sharing' intimate moments with a non-participant? Crap, we'd have to schedule our interludes on a shared Google calendar, so we didn't distract each other at a critical moment - like driving!"
That caused Amanda's smirk to return. "Mmmm, and if just getting kissed sets her off, that could be a real distraction, particularly to someone with male plumbing."
"Okay, that does it! If I go back to being Charlie, Val and I HAVE to be a couple. Sorry, Daniel!"
"If you go back to Charlie? I don't think you will have any problem performing the transformation this weekend. You're far more powerful than I was at the same point, and I did it easily."
"Mom, one of the biggest personal insights I've gained in this trial is that I am a healer. Not that Christie's a healer or even that Charlie is a healer. I. AM. A. HEALER. I can't do anything else. I'm pretty sure that Christie is and will be a healer. I'm not sure about Charlie. If he's not, I will change back to Christie to fulfill what I've come to accept as my destiny."
"You know what your Grandmother found in our history, right? No male sorcerers in our family line possessed the healing talent. And then there's the problem of your Christie back story. We actually know very little about such double transformations. However, we do know that the longer you wait to accomplish the second change, the more your timeline deviates."
"I'll know within moments of completing the transformation to Charlie, Mom," Christie replied, her voice entirely sure. "My precognition is pretty clear on that. Unfortunately, I just can't see what the answer will be."
"Well, that's frustrating. So back to our immediate problem. What do we tell Valerie and when? You know her better than I do, Christie. What're your thoughts?"
"One of the things I was doing in that trance was trying to see beyond the day after my birthday, and I can't make heads or tails of any of it. What I see is incomplete and nebulous. I don't even know if the link survives the transition, but Murphy says it will. I don't see how I can withhold anything or try to mislead her. Eventually, she'll know everything if our link stays in place and keeps getting stronger. The best solution I can come up with is just to trust her now and get her on my side."
"I agree," Amanda replied immediately, and Christie sighed in relief. "So when?"
"My birthday's Sunday, and I'll be attempting the transformation that night. I'd like to tell her before I try that, and I'll need you there for shielding. So, Saturday afternoon?"
"Day after tomorrow? That works for me, but maybe you should talk to Valerie today and let her know why we're not doing it right away. After getting kicked out of her room last night, she'll probably expect us back this evening to finish the story."
"I will. Val will be okay with waiting once I tell her why. God, this is all happening so fast all of a sudden."
Amanda finished her coffee, grimacing that it had gotten cold on her, then glanced at the clock. "And speaking of sudden, we've been talking past my normal departure time. Think about how you want to handle things with Valerie. I'll call you before lunch so we can check in." She rose and hurried out to her car. "Love you!"
"Love you, too, Mom. Don't Speed!"
Christie started to take care of the breakfast dishes when another question hit her. "My Mom thinks snakes are sexy?!? Is she actually serious, or was she just messing with me? SNAKES, for God's sake."
~-~
Photo Credits
Emma Peel, Queen of Sin: https://i.pinimg.com/564x/d4/d1/87/d4d187a7fd8c6956d3f8dc688...
Emma Peel Aurora Model Kit: https://i.pinimg.com/564x/c2/6c/92/c26c92153c17186e5ba59e1da... Peel Aurora Model Kit Box
Mind, Body and Spirit Redux, Part 19
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Part 19 - Possibilities and Preparations
II - The Would-be Sorceress Plans
Still somewhat distracted by the very idea of sexy snakes - what would they wear to be sexy, anyway? Legless leather catsuits? Snake-suits? Christie parked in the hospital visitors' parking lot. "No time for this," she growled quietly to herself. "Have to get Val to buy into delaying the full reveal until Saturday without revealing exactly why."
Entering, she idly wondered if the hospital's physical therapy department had a heavy bag - she REALLY wanted to hit something! Shaking her head, she strode purposefully to Val's room and was pleased to find her friend still hadn't gotten a roommate. Thank goodness for small favors. Now, if only the nurses would leave them alone. Maybe if she . . .?
Christie changed direction and went up to the nurse's station. Two women in scrubs, one of them was older and evidently in charge, looked up as she waited patiently for them to finish whatever they were doing. "Can we help you, Miss?" The older nurse asked.
"Oh, I hope so, Nurse . . ." Christie made a show of looking at the woman's name tag, "Nurse Jenkins. I'm here to see my friend Valerie over in Room 205. I was here last night, and well, we got chatting and lost track of time." Looking somewhat abashed, she continued. "And well, your colleague on that shift had to kick me out. I wondered if it was a good time to go back in for more girl-talk, or if there's something you guys need to do for her and I should wait, or even come back later?"
Nurse Jenkins grinned at the hopeful young girl and looked over to her partner. "Becky, anything you need to take care of in 205 before 'girl-talk'?"
"Nope. She's had her morning meds and her breakfast. We're good to go until lunch. Have fun! She could use a little cheering up after what she's been through."
"Thanks! We won't be too loud! Promise!" Waving happily to the nurses, Christie hurried off to see Valerie.
At the door to Valerie's room, Christie stopped and knocked on the open door, getting her friend's attention. Pleasure lighted Val's face as she saw who was there. "Get in here, girlfriend and pull up a chair. Man, I'm glad to see you this early. I wasn't sure if you had dance class or not."
"Yesterday was ballet day; today is afternoon class at dojang. How are you feeling?"
"Mostly okay. Nothing hurts, but the uncertainty of it all is pretty stressful. I've still got this brain bruise where that asshole hit me. According to the doctors, it isn't getting worse, but it doesn't seem to be getting much better either. Those blasted shots in the ICU evidently weren't as effective as they'd hoped. They're talking about whether to do it again or try something else."
"Wow, but you feel okay otherwise?"
"Mmm, I had a couple of dizzy spells yesterday - whether that's because of the meds or the injury, they can't say. However, I'm being a bad patient about using that damned bedpan, so the nurses have to escort me to the bathroom when I need to go. I HATE being an invalid, and that bedpan just makes me feel like one. I can walk - mostly - so I get to use the bathroom just like a grown-up girl!" Enough asperity leaked to Christie to know that Val had recently made that point to at least one nurse.
"So, what's the long-term prognosis? It's not getting any worse, so that's a good sign, right?"
Val sighed loudly. "Better than it getting worse, anyway. Problem is that it's already bad enough. Long term? Could be anything from no symptoms at all to epileptic seizures. My problem is that they," and she did the 'finger quotes' gesture with her hands, "Don't know where on that range I will be. Damn, Christie, I'm worried about my parents. This hospital stuff is gonna get really expensive. I don't know how they're going to pay for all of this."
"Well, I can at least relieve you there. My Mom has already talked to your folks. Mom and her bosses at the law firm have been on Tad Green's Dad's case for a couple of months now. Remember him complaining about my Mom and her lawyers when he jumped us?" At Valerie's nod, Christie continued, "Evidently, they had processed everything short of a court injunction because he hadn't done anything quite bad enough at that point. Well, he's done enough now! Aside from the criminal case, which will be huge, our folks are bringing a civil case against Tad's family for damages and restitution. According to my Mom's boss? Paying your medical and other recovery costs will be the least of it, and Daddy Green will be damned pleased if the judgement is THAT lenient. Trust me, girlfriend. You're covered, so stop worrying and start getting better!"
"Really?" Valerie asked, trying to hope. Christie simply nodded. "God, I hope you're right. I mean, Mom's all about planning for the worst case, which means more hospital time and really limiting my physical activity while they monitor my condition. That means no Taikwondo and, also get this? NO DATING. Too much excitement, don't you know. God, Christie, I wish you'd broken both Tad's knees! And that he'd gotten his skull cracked when he fell to the ground screaming!"
"Wow, don't hold back, girlfriend! Tell me what you really think!" Christie teased before she became more serious. "That really sucks, though. I wish I could help - could do something to make it better."
"Hell, Chris, you saved me - might even have saved my life by calling 911 as fast as you did. But enough of that. What's new with you, or better yet, what do you have to tell me about yesterday?"
Looking over at the door, Christie nodded and then turned back to her friend. "I sort of hinted to the nurses that we needed some special girl talking time, and I think they will give us some space, at least until lunchtime. Wow, this will be strange, but let me ask you some questions first as I need to make sure I have my facts straight, okay? It'll get a little personal, but I pinky swear to tell no other human, living or dead, what I learn, so don't freak."
"Wow, that doesn't sound threatening - much. Okay, girl, ask away. All freaking will be held in abeyance until after your Q&A."
"Smartass," Christie grinned. "So, question 1. Did you wake up around four am this morning?" Valerie looked at her, surprised, but then shrugged and nodded. "Great. Now, question 2 is where this gets a little personal. After you were awake, umm, did you conduct a little sexual stress relief?"
The other girl's eyes narrowed to slits as she stared hard at her friend. "Remember, you are in a freaking-free zone!" Christie warned teasingly.
"Okay, so, yeah. There's only one floor nurse on night shift. So after she finished giving me my meds and taking my vitals, I knew she would be busy for at least fifteen more minutes or so, and well, I needed it, okay?!!?"
"Got it. And while you were at it, were you perhaps thinking of my experience yesterday when you, make that when WE got kissed by Daniel?"
"Hmm, it started out about Daniel - God that KISS - but as things . . .umm, progressed? Yeah, the thought of you sharing that experience did cross my mind and tickle me a bit."
"And after the big finish, did you perhaps think it would only be fair if I got to share this morning's experience with you? Something like, 'Take that, McKellar'?"
"Maaayybe." Valerie drawled as she began to blush.
"Okay, that's what I figured. Look, Val, I think this . . .connection between us is still there and might even be getting stronger. Right around four AM today, I was soundly asleep and having the best-wet dream EVER when I suddenly woke up in the middle of the best orgasm of my ENTIRE LIFE!"
Valerie's open-mouthed, eyes wide open stare told Christie her friend had made that connection, too. "And when I got this nebulous sort of 'nyah nyah, take that' feeling, I just thought, 'Hey, bring it on, sister!' Which I thought was just the tail end of that great dream, until I got this sensation of surprise and, well. . . Val? Were you maybe a little afraid at that point?"
"Oh, My, God! YOU FELT IT! I. . . I HEARD YOU!... You . . .Oh My God, Christie. That is so messed up! REALLY?" Christie only nodded, smiling gently at her friend. Valerie tried to say something more at least a couple of times but snapped her mouth shut each time before anything came out. Then, her forehead crinkled, and her eyes narrowed as she began to look very intently at the other girl in her room. "Last night. Around eleven o'clock. . . You jilled off, didn't you, McKellar? YES, YOU DID! I can see it in your eyes. YOU BITCH!!"
"Huh? What? How am I a bitch, Stevens? Dang it, Val. I'm the one who got woke up at four in the bleeding morning, and I'm the one who had a damned orgasm in public in front of my MOM!? So, how am I a bitch??"
Valerie giggled and pointed an accusing finger at Christie and was incapable of further speech. When she finally managed to control herself, she growled, "You drove me crazy last night! You just HAD to do it right at shift change, when both the evening and night shift nurses ran around doing their nursey things. Crap, I must have had a nurse in and out of my room four or five times before you finally finished. What lit your fuse, McKellar?"
Snorting a laugh of her own, Christie smirked at her friend. "Oh, I was still pretty worked up from my experience with you and Daniel, but on top of that, my Mom had one of THOSE talks with me and mentioned someone named Emma Peel, comparing me to her. I looked her up before bed. Shall we say that my itch became major?"
"Who's Emma Peel??"
"Old-time TV character. Wore a lot of leather and kicked a lot of butt. Anyway, sorry for the long-distance tease. Like I said, whatever this thing between us is, it seems to be getting stronger. That worries me."
"Why?"
"Well, suppose you have another one of those Daniel kisses while I'm driving, just for starters? Second, I don't know how it was on your end? I was clearly sensing your emotions this morning. Perhaps clearly enough to figure out what you were feeling and mostly why. It's not quite mind reading, but I just told you what I felt, and you pretty much confirmed my suppositions from your end."
"Okay, but why is that a problem."
"And here's where I can only say, I promise I'll explain everything to you Saturday afternoon when my Mom can be here to stand watch. Look, Val, my family has secrets - pretty serious ones. Secrets that have never been shared with anyone outside our family. We're worried that if this thing between us gets a lot stronger, you and I may not be able to keep anything from each other."
"Crap!"
"Yeah, crap. Since this is on me, I've decided you have a need-to-know. I've told my Mom that I have to tell you everything before this thing gets any stronger. I don't want you surprised by anything you 'hear' and then accidentally expose us."
"You're not criminals or foreign spies, are you? Nothing evil like that, right?"
"No, nothing like that. Anyway, I need Mom here because it's her secret, too, and she'll be able to help make sure that no one else is aware of what I will tell you. And I picked Saturday to ensure we'd have all the time we needed, especially after getting kicked out last night."
"Wow. Christie McKellar, Woman of Mystery. You're really serious?" At Christie's solemn nod, Val took a deep breath, then blew it out. "Okay, I agree. We'll do the full disclosure on Saturday. Everything is hush-hush until then. Pinky swear."
"Pinky swear, Val. Thanks. Now, I need to leave to prepare for today's class at the dojang. I really need some time on the heavy bag today."
"I hear that, girlfriend, and I am green with jealousy. At least Daniel is coming by after his class today."
"WHEN?" Christie yelped. At Valerie's shocked look, she gave an embarrassed giggle. "Umm, so I can be done driving home before you two consummate another kiss?"
Both girls giggled, and Valerie reached over to smack Christie on the arm. "He's due at four o'clock, and he'll probably be kicked out sometime around five when they serve dinner, such as it is. Be safe in your little cubbyhole before four-thirty if you know what's good for you, girl. I've got plans for that boy."
"Got it. Have fun and take care, okay? Gotta run. Bye."
~-~
The class at the Kims' studio was not one of Christie's better efforts. Too much was happening. Too many things were coming to a head. There were too many decisions and preparations to be made! She had nearly decided she should have cut today's lesson when Wilma summoned her over to her.
"Jeja Christie! That last combination was not performed to your usual standard, and it was not the first time today. I should hear your dobok pop when you execute that form. I have heard and seen you do that, so what is the problem? Some lingering injury from your conflict with Tad?"
Embarrassed, Christie shook her head. "No, Wilma, it's not anything like that. My focus is off today. I went to see Val before class, and it is on my mind. I was just about to call it a day when you beckoned me over."
"I will take Jeja Christie, Wilma," Grandfather Kim said, suddenly materializing behind them. I want to make sure she is correct in assessing her physical well-being before allowing her to continue class."
Both Wilma and Christie bowed to the eldest Kim, "Yes, Sa Bum Nim," they both intoned. Wilma went back to overseeing her class while Christie followed Grandfather into one of the smaller workout rooms.
After they'd seated themselves on the mat, Grandfather regarded his student intently. "All right, Christie. What is the problem you did not wish to share with Wilma?"
It was like a dam burst for Christie as everything bothering her rolled out in a chaotic torrent of words. Everything from the link to the family secrets to her concerns about the time stream to worrying about who turned up Monday morning - Christie or Charlie. Her desire to focus on her healing talents and the likelihood that Charlie would not have those abilities. And what about the things that had and had not changed with her? If Charlie came back, would Jimmy go back to having been hurt by the dog and be dealing with that psychological trauma? What would happen to her Mother's secret affair with Renee? It was all just so overwhelming, and it all was going to be driven by a 16, soon to be 17 year old's decision on who he OR she was and would be in the future.
"That is a great burden you have taken upon yourself, Christie, but I think you forget one key factor in all of this. Regardless of your decision, you will not be alone dealing with the world once you make it. Your Mother will be there. I will be there. We will both know what has happened this past year, and we will be able to help you. Just as I did when Charlie became Christie and couldn't be there to save young Jimmy. We want to help. We will help. All you have to do is let us."
Sniffling now, Christie just sat there for a few moments considering her mentor's words. Finally, she looked up and asked. "Can it really be that easy, Papa Kim?"
He smiled and then laughed. "Of course not, Jeja. Life is never 'that easy,' or what would be the point of living it? You have a challenge to face - one much greater and more demanding than most people could ever dream of facing. Just know that you do not have to face it alone."
Christie wiped her nose on the sleeve of her dobok and nodded. "We're telling Val everything on Saturday. If this link keeps getting stronger, we may be unable to keep any secrets from each other. Heck, I'm afraid to drive when she's with Daniel after yesterday."
"Go home, Christie, and get some rest. You've had a very long two days and a very short night. I'll delay Daniel's departure from the dojang until you text me that you're home safely. As to your connection with Valerie? Such things are rare but not unheard of. I've heard of psychic techniques that can be used to control such links, at least when you are aware and conscious. We will begin work on them next week if it should still be necessary."
Christie rose to her feet and bowed deeply to her teacher, mentor and friend. "Thank you, Sa Bum Nim. I don't know anything more about what I need to do than before we talked, but somehow, I feel better. You're right. I'm not, and I won't be alone in this. Guess I'll see you Monday."
"If you decide to attend your dance class tomorrow, try to concentrate better than you did here today? You don't want to injure yourself there, either."
~-~
Mind, Body and Spirit Redux, Part 20
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Continued by Paula Dillon and Tigger Part 20A - A Sorcerers' Pre-Birthday Celebration
Amanda sipped her second cup of morning coffee while keeping an ear out for any sounds of Christie stirring. She smiled as she realized that this was the first cup of morning coffee she'd had made for herself since Charlie, now Christie's last birthday. Eggs and omelet fixings were prepared and ready to cook since her daughter had missed her dinner yesterday. That her girl would wake up ravenously hungry was at least partly her fault, so Mom was ready to dish up Christie's favorite breakfast treat. After all, Amanda had been the one to place a heavy-duty sleep spell on Christie before turning off her alarm.
Arriving home last night, Amanda had found Christie's car in the driveway but no obvious sign of her presence in the house. A quick mental scan found her sound asleep in her bedroom - at six pm in the evening. Switching her scanning to her healer sight, Amanda had been relieved to find nothing physically wrong - the girl was just fast asleep. Amanda had almost awakened Christie to find out why she was sleeping so early but had hesitated. Maybe she really needed it, but why?
Rather than disturb Christie to get her answers, she'd called Papa Kim to see if he had any idea why her daughter would be dead to the world so early in the evening. Amanda gave a soft chuckle. Wow, had he ever! Papa Kim had given her chapter and verse of Christie's performance issues at the dojang class and how he'd pulled her aside for 'a bit of a chat,' as he'd called it.
Amanda had been dumbstruck by the revelations Papa Kim had drawn out of her daughter. Oh, she'd known that the girl had a great deal on her mind just now. For goodness sake, her birthday decision would be required the day after tomorrow. Ordinarily, the issue that would concern most young sorcerers the most was whether or not their trial goals had been accomplished. If so, they would be able to transform back to their birth gender and come fully into their power. Evidently, that concern wasn't even a phantom blip on Christie's mental radar. However, the worries and concerns on her daughter's mind had very little in common with her peers' problems. Considered as a whole? Amanda thought Christie's problems were almost overwhelming.
"But she's never even hinted that those things were weighing on her. We've talked through most of them, and I thought she had put them all to rest. Heavens, Papa, I'm her Mother! Why didn't I know about this? Why did she tell you and not me??"
"Maybe because I cheated?" A soft, comforting chuckle sounded in her ear. "Let's just say that I covertly and subtly encouraged her to unburden herself to me. I'm sure you could have done the same with your abilities, but you are her Mother. You probably have some sorcerer's code about such things. I'm just an interfering old Grandfather who can always get away with manipulating a favorite granddaughter. Although I will admit, I don't think I will be able to do my 'Jedi Mind Tricks' on her in the future. I think she's ready for the transformation you told me about."
"I think so, too, Papa, and more importantly, Christie thinks so as well. She as much told me that yesterday."
"I see. Well, Amanda, as to your concern about her sleeping, I must take credit or blame for that, too. She was mentally and emotionally exhausted, so I strongly encouraged her to go home and rest."
"Well, thanks for talking with me, Papa, and explaining what happened. I'm going to reinforce your encouragement with a little sleep aid of my own to ensure she sleeps herself out. Then, we'll see, won't we? Any bets on who shows up at your dojang next week?"
"Your child will, Amanda. And as I told Christie, we will be there to help either Charlie or Christie as needed. Good night, Amanda."
After hanging up on Papa Kim, Amanda had sat and considered what she'd learned. Then, she'd made calls to her Mother, Renee and her boss before going back upstairs to ensure Christie got the rest she needed.
~-~
"OH SSHHHHIII. . . .UGAR!!!"
Amanda grinned as she stood up to head over to her refrigerator. Someone had just woken up and looked at her bedside clock. Christie would typically have left for her morning dance class half an hour ago. If she was going. Which she was not. Not today, in any case.
Thundering steps rumbled the stairs just before a bed-hair disheveled Christie burst into the kitchen. "I'M LATE!! My alarm got turned off somehow. Madame Rene will have a cow. I've got to . . ."
Amanda stepped in front of her dithering daughter and put a hand over her mouth. "What you have to do, Missy, is go back upstairs, take a shower and dress for a shopping day and other such genteel activities."
"But Madame Renee . . .
"Knows that you won't be there today because you've been overdoing it since your release from the hospital. I called your dance mistress last night to let her know I was keeping you today, and of course, being the marvelously compliant woman she is, there was no problem with that. Now, run along and make yourself presentable. Your hair is a disaster. I'll have your favorite egg white omelet ready to plate when you come back down. And Christie?"
"Yes, Mom?"
"Come down the stairs like a young lady this time, please?"
Christie swallowed back a gulp and nodded. "Yes, Mom. Ten minutes, okay?" And she was off before her Mother could reply.
"Harrumph," Amanda growled. "What young lady takes ONLY ten minutes to complete her morning toilette?" Her daughter's bedroom door opened ten minutes later, followed by gentle footfalls tiptoeing down the stairs. "Evidently, my young lady, it would seem." She smiled as she answered her own rhetorical question.
Finding an overstuffed omelet and coffee waiting for her on the breakfast bar, Christie slid onto her stool and took her first sip of coffee. "What's up, Mom? Why the big breakfast and calling off my dance class? In fact, what's with turning off my alarm clock? God, I never sleep . . . this . . . late . . ." Christie's fork stopped halfway to her plate when she suddenly fixed her Mother with a steely glare. "You did it!" She said accusingly. "You turned off my alarm, and you put some kind of sleep charm on me! I haven't slept this late in YEARS!!"
"Oh, stop glowering at me and eat your breakfast before it gets cold. Yes, I turned off your alarm and zapped you with a sleep spell. You were sound asleep when I got home last night. Sound asleep before six pm, I might add! When I called Grandfather Kim, he gave me the story of your little meltdown yesterday. You NEEDED sleep. I AM the Mother, and I made sure you got some badly needed sleep. End of THAT discussion, young lady."
A forkful of omelet deflected what was sure to have been an injudicious and smart-ass retort. "Take another bite," Amanda ordered, "And swallow. THEN you may ask a question if you like."
Christie thought furiously as she chewed the ordered second bite. "You said 'shopping and other activities?' Since when? I didn't know you planned a shopping day. What do you need?"
Amanda refilled her coffee cup without answering her daughter. She was heading back to her own seat when their front door opened. A familiar voice called out, "Hello, the house!"
Delighted, Christie started to stand, calling out, "Grandma!" Only to be gestured firmly back into her seat by Amanda.
"You haven't eaten since lunch yesterday. Eat your omelet. My Mom knows where the kitchen is."
Rebekah Hanson bustled into the kitchen, stopping to give Christie a quick peck on the cheek before embracing her daughter. "Sit, Amanda, sit. Your old Mother can pour her own coffee."
Almost finished with her breakfast, Christie looked at her Mother and then her Grandmother. "Grandma Bekka, are you here for whatever mysterious outing Mom just laid on me out of the blue?"
"Why, of course, I am, sweetie. I wouldn't miss your special day for anything."
"Ummm, what special day, Gran? My birthday is Sunday. I have no idea why today would be my day, special or otherwise. Mom? What's going on?"
"Yes, your birthday is Sunday. According to family lore, that is the first day you will be able to attempt the retransformation and thus come into your full power. Our family has a long-standing tradition for candidates who have undergone a change of sex trial. The family gets together the day before your birthday for a sort of Pre-Birthday Celebration. And yes, I know, it should be Saturday, but SOMEbody," and here Amanda cast a gimlet eye on her suddenly bashful daughter, "Made other commitments for us all on Saturday, which your Grandmother and I agree are important for us to keep."
"You said 'shopping,'" Christie said a little warily. Female or not, shopping was not something Charlie or Christie particularly enjoyed. It was a task to be completed, not an adventure to be savored. Just another of those shadows of masculinity that got in her daughter's way sometimes - like dressing.
"One of our traditions is that we buy the candidate some suitable outfits for their new station in life as a full-fledged sorcerer. It was like buying a young man his first pair of long pants or a girl her first formal adult gown back in the old days. Sort of a change of life statement."
Christie considered that and frowned. "But, how does that work if the candidate is going to change sex on his or her birthday? I don't think you could fit Charlie in something purchased for me or vice versa."
Rebekah laughed and patted her granddaughter's hand. "It's magic, darling. It will work out."
Grinning, Amanda agreed. "On my day, Aaron got a brand new suit and all the extras, complete with leather briefcase and shoes. When I woke up as Amanda, my closet held the perfect prom dress, shoes, purse and accessories. Like Mom says, it's magic."
"That's just . . .well, I almost said weird, but I have a new standard for 'weird' after the day before yesterday, so I'll just say that's confusing. So okay, that should take us about half an hour. What else is on the docket?"
Shaking her head sadly, Amanda signed in resignation at her poor, deluded child. "If we start when the stores open at ten o'clock? We MIGHT be finished in time to put on our glad rags for our dinner celebration. Your Grandmother has made eight PM reservations for us at her favorite dining establishment."
Christie felt her cheek starting to twitch. "TEN hours? To buy one outfit? You're not serious."
"No, no, of course not," Amanda said in a sickly sweet reassuring tone. "We have to be done shopping by four so that you'll have plenty of time to get all sleek and beautiful before we head off to dinner."
Both Mothers laughed at the look of abject horror that crossed Christie's face. Standing, she brought her right fist to her heart in a Roman gladiator-style salute. "We who are about to shop till we drop, salute you!"
Then started to leave the kitchen, only to stop at the doorway. Grinning evilly, Christie turned and looked at her Grandmother. "Grandma Bekka. Did you know your daughter thinks snakes are sexy??" And then tore from the room before either woman could react.
~-~
It was nearly midnight when a bone-tired Christie finally got ready for bed. Her new LBD and her new business suit were hung in her closet with the matching shoes racked beneath them. How had she EVER let her Mother talk her into delicate black sandals with four-inch heels for the LBD? The two-inch heels on the conservative business pumps were bad enough, but those stilettos were killers. So what if she regularly danced on point. Those definitely went on the list of negatives for Christie, positives for Charlie.
Truth to tell, it had been a pretty great day - dinner especially. Even the shopping hadn't been TOO awful. Grandma had really helped there as she'd kept Mom on a reasonably tight leash and focused on what they were there to do. Even so? Amanda must have had her daughter try on more than a dozen different outfits. The first two they'd found would have been fine. Although, truth time again, the ones they eventually bought just MIGHT have been a little cuter and more comfortable.
The last thing Christie did before lights out was to check her alarm clock was set for her preferred wake-up time. She would get her workout in tomorrow, and that was that! And she wouldn't make coffee! So there! Take that, Mom!
Except that she knew she would make the coffee for her Mom. Sighing happily, Christie turned out her light and was almost instantly asleep.
~-~
Continued by Paula Dillon and Tigger
Part 20B - Birthday Celebrations with Friends
It was Saturday, but it wasn't anything like a 'Normal Saturday.' For one thing, this wasn't a 'Normal Saturday Class Day at the Dojang.' It was Test Day, and there was basically nothing for Christie to do for it. She wouldn't be testing as often as she had been now that she was working towards her upper-level belts. Charlie had this same experience in his timeline. However, he'd still always been able to come to test day excited about participating in someone else's testing. Charlie had been allowed to spar. On the other hand, Christie was restricted to only sparring with Grandfather Kim. So, it was test day, but that meant no class, no testing, no sparring for poor little Christie. Bummer.
Still, she was determined to hold to her usual routine as much as possible. Yes, it was her 17th birthday - happy birthday to her - and yes, it might be the last day she would ever have as Christie. When she thought carefully about those issues, they were really just more reasons to enjoy being 'Christie' to the absolute fullest. What could possibly be better? Coming to one of her favorite places, filled with some of her favorite people and enjoying watching some of her favorite activities? If tomorrow was to become Charlie's time, then by God, he'd remember today as Christie fondly!
So, she'd arrived early - just like always. She'd changed into her gear and come out to stretch and warm up - just like always. She was practicing the Poomsae required for her next belt when she saw her girls rush into the studio ahead of their Mothers. They scurried into the dressing room but were back out again in mere minutes. They rushed over to Christie and attacked her with an enthusiastic group hug.
"You guys ready?" She asked, trying to sound stern. The three girls all nodded vigorously, making Christie laugh. "That's RIGHT! You darn sure are, and don't you forget it! C'mon over to the corner of the mat. Let's get loose." And again, just like always? Christie began leading her young friends through a complete warm-up that looked remarkably like the testing they'd be doing only a short time later.
Finished, Christie gathered them around her, with her in the center of their little circle. "You guys are ready. You just did every drill, every Poomsae that the Masters could ask of you, and you were all dead on the money. Just keep your heads during the sparring. Remember, try to score, try to stop the other person from scoring, but try not to hurt. You're all gonna do GREAT, and your Moms and I will all be so proud when they tie that new belt around you before the party. Okay?" They all nodded. "Okay, group hug, then go kick belt!"
She watched as they ran off to the side of the studio where the instructors were handing out test assignments. Turning to the audience, she caught sight of the girls' Mothers, waved and gave them the 'A-OK' high sign.
Christie's Mom wasn't there, although she did plan to come to the combination graduation and birthday party later in the morning. That really wasn't unusual for a Test Day when Charlie or Christie was not one of the students getting tested, but Christie still missed her right now. Just one more missing something. This day already had too many of those.
"Your protegees look to be in top form today, Jeja," Grandfather Kim appeared at her shoulder. "After that workout you called a warm-up, I don't know why we should even bother testing them. They all did very well."
Christie smiled at her mentor. "For the memories that they'll make doing the test, Grandfather. I guess I'm a little focused on memories today, but there you have it. Sure, I've already told them they will pass, but sometime in the future, they will treasure the memory of having a Master tell them they DID pass. I think it is particularly important today for Cindy."
"Oh? And why is that, Jeja?"
"Madame Coulter is trying to set up some special auditions for her over in Philadelphia. If they go well for her, there could likely be some amazing opportunities opening up to her soon. The downside would be a greatly increased time commitment to the dancing. Cindy and her Mom may have to make some difficult choices this summer."
"Whatever is best for the child, Jeja. She has that type of potential, then?"
"She's so much better than I was at the same age, Grandfather, and she doesn't have my growth gene. She could be very, very special if she just gets the chance."
"Your other girls?" He asked gently.
"They're staying here. Those girls did ballet because that is what 'little girls do.' They are much better at Taekwondo than at ballet, and they like it better, especially that little hellion Carly. That pair may give you future Brenda Sell or two, Grandfather."
"Oh, a challenge! Excellent. What about you, Jeja? Will you pursue a Mastery in the Taekwondo?"
"Have to wait and see about that, Sa Bum Nim. A lot will depend on who's taking classes with you after tonight."
"Ah, yes. As I understand from your Mother, you will face a significant milestone tonight. How are you handling that? Do you believe you have accomplished what was required of you and learned what you needed to know?"
"We'll find out for sure tonight, but I really think I have, Grandfather. The single most important thing I've learned about myself really has nothing to do with power. I am going to be, no, scratch that! I NEED to be a healer. Honestly? I could lose all my powers tonight when I do whatever I'm called on to do, but I still have this unquenchable NEED to be a healer. If that need requires that I go to medical school? I WILL go to medical school. That's no longer optional for me."
"A true vocation, so basic to your true self, is hard to ignore. Is being here today difficult for you, Christie? I know we told you that you would have a party today, but we could change that. Would you rather go home and prepare yourself for tonight?"
"Honestly, part of me wants to run away and hide, but I won't. This might well be my last memory of this place and these friends as Christie. I want to cheer for my girls and celebrate with everyone who passes. Even if they don't know exactly why I'm celebrating."
"Excellent, Jeja. Well, my grandson is gesturing frantically for me to come to the judges' table, so I must leave you for a while. Find a seat and enjoy watching your girls - how did you put it? Oh, yes. Enjoy watching your girls 'kick belt!' I really must remember that phrase for the future. See you at the party, birthday girl!"
~-~
Amanda arrived as the last set of sparring bouts was ending. She saw Christie, surrounded by young girls and their Mothers, all talking at once - likely about the test results. As Amanda approached the group, Christie saw her Mother and almost ran over to sweep her up in a bear hug. "I'm so glad you're here," She whispered into her Mom's ear. "If this is my last Christie day at the dojang, I am so happy you'll be a part of my memories. Love you, Mom!"
Amanda almost burst into tears as she hugged her child and shielded her face in her daughter's hair. And maybe wiped a surreptitious tear or two into that mop of hair in the process. When she was sure she had control of her own emotions, she gave Christie one more squeezing hug, then put her arm around her to lead her back to her pack. "Let's go wait for the good news with your girls, okay?"
~-~
Of course, Cindy, Kelly and Carly all passed. In fact, all the yellow belts that Christie had been helping Wilma teach advanced to the 7th Geup Green. She was so proud of them, too. The party was fun, especially with the addition of a decorated birthday cake for Christie's celebration.
Amanda and Christie had left a little early, wanting to have a light lunch before seeing Valerie in the hospital. They had pointedly avoided talking about Valerie or what they were going to do with her, just as they avoided any discussion of what would happen later that night. As a result, what conversation they did manage over lunch was somewhat more stilted and stiff than their usual easy banter. In the end, they realized that they really weren't all that hungry. They packed their leftovers into containers provided by the restaurant and then left for the hospital.
They'd planned their arrival to be after the lunch trays had been cleared away and the nurses' afternoon rounds finished. Amanda warded the nurses' station to be aware when any duty nurses went out onto the floor. At the same time, Christie headed for Valerie's room.
"Hey, Valerie," she called as she moved inside. "How're you doing?"
"You don't happen to have a pizza, extra cheese hidden in your backpack, do you? I'm getting really tired of all this no-salt, low fat, no flavor, healthy food in this place!"
"Sorry, girlfriend, I was afraid I would be strip-searched for contraband on the way in, so I left the cake with a hacksaw baked inside behind, too."
Amanda came in then and warded the hallway outside the room so that she'd know if someone was approaching the room. Then, she set her 'Cone of Silence' spell around Valerie's bed before taking one of the seats there.
"Mrs. M?" Valerie said, her eyes on Amanda, "You're aware of this crazy mental telephone line between us, right? As a result, Chris believes she needs to reveal some big McKellar family secrets to me. Just want you to know, Mrs. McKellar, that Christie is the best friend I've ever had! I'd never do anything to hurt her or abuse our relationship. If it's a secret, it will stay a secret, even if I know it through this strange link between us."
"Thank you, Val. I appreciate you saying that, but I already knew it. You're special. My daughter's BFF would have to be. I trust you completely on these issues."
"So, girl, make with the big reveal, Valerie ordered, turning her attention to Christie. "I'll keep the secrets, but my curiosity is raising my blood pressure! That's not good for me right now. DEETS, McKellar! All of them!"
"Guess you've been watching the same Netflix soap operas for teens that my Mom has. Deets? Did you really just say that, Stevens? Okay, all of them, then. Detail One and this is a biggie, okay? Magic. Is. Real."
Valerie shook her head as if trying to clear it. "Umm, THAT's Detail One? You're kidding. What's the real story, Mrs. McKellar? Your daughter is messing with the mind of the sick girl! Don't make me push the crash cart button, Christie! Stop playing and give me some truth!"
Amanda held up her hand and, having gotten both girls' attention, said, "She's not messing with you, Val. Magic. Is. Real."
"And we're both sorceresses," Christie added quickly.
Disbelief and the first hint of anger darkened her face. "Prove it, then!"
Christie shrugged. "Well, I'm still at the starting out, apprentice level, but okay. Watch this." She lifted her hand up with her fingers rigidly pointing upward and lit them all on fire.
Val's eyes widened but then narrowed. "One of the kids in my science class did something like that with her chemistry lab starter kit. Got anything better?"
Amanda laughed and said, "I've got this, Christie." Closing her eyes, she concentrated and then fixed a challenging gaze on Valerie. "All right, Miss Unbeliever. Tell me your name."
"My name? Really?" At Amanda's quiet nod, it was Valerie's turn to shrug. "Okay, as you both very well know, my name is Pippi Longstocking. . . NO! Wait, I don't know why I said that! It's really Tinker Bell . . . Oh hell!"
"Oh hell? No, that's not your name, either," Amanda chided playfully. "C'mon, girl, what's your name?"
"Darn it! It's Truly Scrumptious. Oh, man! Honest, my name is Smurfette . . .oh, now that's just embarrassing. I quit. Magic is Real, and you're a sorceress. Now, Can I PLEASE have my name BACK?!?"
"Of course," Amanda said generously as she waved her hand at Valerie. "And what's your name, little girl? What's your name?" She sang.
"That was a song? Okay, let's give this a try. My name is . . . VALERIE! Oh, thank goodness."
"A simple compulsion spell. It made you substitute the name of a childhood story character for yours whenever you tried to say your name. Simple, effective and evidently quite convincing, eh?"
"Well, Chris, that's one heck of a Detail One. What's Detail Two?"
"I think magic might be easier to accept because I can't prove this one to you. I swear the following is true on my honor and on my friendship with you. Last year, to the day, in fact, I was a guy named Charlie McKellar."
Valerie only stared for almost a minute before her mouth opened and then shut again. She stared a bit longer until she took a deep breath and asked, "On your honor? And on our friendship?" Christie nodded, holding her right hand up, palm towards Valerie and crossed her heart with her left hand. "Wow. Okay, that is going to take some explaining. Should I take notes?"
"We'd prefer you didn't, dear," Amanda said dryly. "I've been doing this for longer than my child, so why don't I try to explain first. You can ask questions as we go along or at the end, whichever suits you best. Okay?"
At Valerie's nod, Amanda launched into a 'Reader's Digest Condensed Version' of the McKellar family history of sorcery. When Amanda attempted to explain that some family members did the gender change when they turned sixteen, Valerie pounced. Biology major Val wanted detailed biology and genetic answers. All Amanda could give her were vague explanations based on family historical and empirical data.
Amanda continued the story, getting into the particulars of Charlie's transformation into Christie and the challenges Christie had met and overcome so far on her trial.
"So, let me see if I understand at least some of that. Tonight is the first night you can change back, right?"
"Right," Christie answered.
"But you won't know until you try whether you've actually finished this trial thing which is the requirement for you to be able to do the switch-back?"
"Right again!"
"And if you change back to Charlie, I won't remember any of this?"
Christie frowned at that. "That's been the family experience to date. Remember, however, that you and I are linked. We have no idea what will happen to that link when or if I change back to Charlie. If we're still linked, I don't think there's any way I can keep you from learning any of our secrets. That's why we're talking now so that if I do change back into Charlie and we're still linked, you will have access to my memory and know that I tried to explain it to you."
"You know? That's just weird, McKellar. Trying to keep that line of logic straight is making my head hurt. Leaving that aside, I'm guessing, what did you call it? Oh yeah, in this other timeline, we're still friends?"
Christie blushed bright red at that, and Valerie pounced again. "What?!? What's got you turning red as a sunset?"
"Umm, well, ya see, Val . . Umm, I think you were going to become Charlie's girlfriend."
"Girlfriend? As in dating kind of girlfriend? You're not kidding?"
"I think so. You see, at Charlie's birthday party last year at the dojang? You fed me. . .errr him his piece of birthday cake while sitting on . . .his lap."
"I DID? You're not making that up?!"
"Nope, and it was a little more than that, too."
"More than me feeding you like some harem girl feeding her sultan? Oh, tell me more, o great storyteller."
"Weeellll, Charlie couldn't eat his cake by himself because . . . Hewassaranwrappedtoachairandcouldn'tmovehisarms,handsorlegs!" Christie blurted out in a rush.
"WHAT?? What was THAT? Slower this time!"
"Charlie was tied to a chair, wrapped in Saran-Wrap, kinda like a dobok clad mummy and couldn't move his legs or arms. So you volunteered to help him. Only you meant you'd help him eat, not get loose."
The appraising look that came into Valerie's eyes as she considered her best friend's words was . . .kinda scary, actually, Christie thought.
"A little consensual bondage between lovers can be great fun, Valerie," Amanda put in, just to tweak at her daughter a little bit more.
"It does seem to have. . .possibilities," Val said smiling.
"So, to change the subject - please! Are we ready to check Valerie out now?"
"Of course. Valerie, I will use what we call 'Healer's Sight' to look at the injured part of your brain. I will usually know if I can do anything to help when I do. If I see something I can fix, I will. Now, you just need to lie still for me."
Amanda began to link and explore the injury. Shortly after she'd started, she became aware of Christie laying her hands on Amanda's bare arms. The bright light of her daughter's emerging power acted as a drop-light, further illuminating the injured places in Valerie's brain. With the extra focus, she could sense a small area where the damage had not been arrested by her previous attempts at healing. The site was small, and she was concerned she might not have enough power or sufficient control to effect a repair.
Suddenly, she felt extra power coming into her, enhancing her own, and even focusing it into a more narrow tool. Carefully, she went after the damaged site and was able to arrest the spreading. She still couldn't repair the damage already done, but at least she'd stopped it from getting any worse. With a sigh of satisfaction, she broke the link.
After Amanda had explained to Val what she'd found and done, Valerie yawned deeply. "All of a sudden, I'm really sleepy," she told her two guests.
"Go to sleep, Valerie. We'll be back to see you tomorrow or the next day. Get some rest now."
"'K. See ya, Chris. Helluva story, girlfriend. 'Night."
~-~
"What now, Christie?" Amanda asked as she started the car. "Anywhere you want to go? Anything you want to do?"
Yawning herself, Christie sat back in her seat and laid her head against the headrest. "Home, I think, Mom. I have no idea what's in store for me tonight or even if I'll get any rest. I think I want to try to take a nap so I'll be as ready as possible for whatever fate has in store for me."
"Probably wise. I can give you a mild sleep charm if you like. Nothing so strong you won't be able to wake up if you need to, but enough so you could drop off."
"Let me try without first. If I'm awake after half an hour, I'll take you up on it then."
~-~
Mind, Body and Spirit Redux, Part 21 and Part 22
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Continued by Paula Dillon and Tigger Part 21 - Verdict and Sentence
"It is time for you to go upstairs, Christie, and learn whether you are, as all of us believe, ready for the next phase," Amanda intoned, her voice deeply solemn. "As my Mother and I were told in our turn, so I will now say this to you. When you know your time has come, look deeply into your most secret self. Your Mind, Your Body and Your Spirit. If you have completed your trial and are truly ready to emerge fully into your power? You will find Charlie there, waiting for you. Gather yourself, reach into yourself, and pull him out. The magic will invoke, and you will emerge."
Amanda turned and nodded to her Mother. Rebekah remained silent but came over and embraced Christie and then kissed her solemnly before stepping away. Amanda took her place and repeated the physical blessing. Then she also stepped away. "Go in peace, daughter, with our blessing. Trust your intuition and find your true path."
The intensity of their shared emotions made Christie's breath catch in her throat, and for a few moments more, it was all she could do just to stare at her two loved ones. Finally, she called upon her training, centered herself, and bowed deeply to her Grandmother and Mother. Standing back erect, Christie turned away and headed up the stairs to her room.
Inside, Christie moved to the place she had prepared for her night's journey. Her yoga mat was in front of the floor-to-ceiling mirror she usually used for practicing her ballet positions. She'd moved her bedside lamp to illuminate the mirror in the otherwise darkened room. Her preparations were complete; Christie stripped off her robe, assumed the lotus position and focused on her nude reflected image in the mirror.
Slowly, carefully, she entered a deep, meditative state and then focused her 'inner eye' on her own being. Deep into her body, into her mind, into her very essence and spirit, Christie searched. Suddenly, a speck of light appeared and seemed to beckon to her. She followed it, deeper and deeper. Slowly, the bit of light began to grow, began to take shape, and she drew ever closer, she found herself looking at a human form. Closer yet, she could see that the body was nude and male. Ever closer she came, until at last, the male shape resolved into the figure of Charles McKellar.
Christie 'reached' out with her 'hand' intending to grasp his, but Charlie dodged. She tried again, closing on him, but once more, he avoided her grip, much to her dismay. Taking a moment, she just studied herself? Himself? in the void around them. Then she pounced and snatched Charlie's hand in hers before he could react. Then she began to pull.
Whenever Christie had let herself daydream about how this moment would be, never, not even for a moment, had she thought their meeting would be this adversarial. Charlie fought her, resisting her every effort to bring him to the surface. What she had imagined as a magical, beautiful dance had devolved into a blasted tug of war.
Well, she told herself firmly, if that's the way it had to be, she could darn well handle it. Channeling everything she was into the effort, Christie pulled with her entire being. Slowly at first, the two avatars began to move 'upward.' Faster and faster, they rose until they flashed through to the surface together. Eyes clearing, Charlie now sat on the yoga mat in the lotus seat, looking at his reflection.
He sat there for several moments, again searching for his center. Recovering somewhat, Charlie stood and examined his nude masculine body. He was taller than he had been a year ago - maybe two inches and probably twenty pounds heavier by the look of his well-muscled physique. What about his power?
Thinking of that made him instantly aware of the wellspring of power bubbling up within him. He tried some of the things he'd learned as Christie and found them much easier now. Taking a deep breath, Charlie summoned forth his healer sight . . .
And got nothing.
He tried again, using another healer technique his Mother had taught Christie. Nothing again. Determinedly, he focused his chi as Grandfather Kim had taught him. Trying to use his precognitive abilities to access his healer skills, he found nothing to unlock.
Because there was nothing to find. Charlie, like all the men in his family before him, was not a healer.
Not sure what to do next, Charlie resumed his lotus seat and began focusing on recalling his "Charlie Timeline" memories. He then screamed in rage and despair when they played before his mind's eye.
Valerie had been Charlie's girlfriend. 'Had been' was the operative phrase because Valerie was dead in this timeline. As he had in the Christie Timeline incident, Tad had attacked Charlie and Val from behind. This Tad had come at them from behind. He'd gone for Charlie first, again with a rear-naked choke, but far more effectively applied in this timeline because he'd been planning it. The rest of the incident played out the same as the Christie incident. Valerie had attacked Tad from behind, breaking his hold on Charlie. This incident was just the same as Christie's had been. Except for two critical differences.
Charlie wasn't a healer. When he'd tried to mimic his Mother's abilities to help the fallen Valerie, nothing had happened. No healing. No link. And Val had died of a massive brain hemorrhage before the EMTs even arrived at the scene.
The second difference was that Charlie was physically much more powerful than Christie. He was also a black belt karateka who was nearly ready to test for 2nd Dan. Charlie had completed Christie's back elbow, back-kick combination, finishing with a spinning back fist to Tad's face. Charlie had, like Christie, unconsciously focused his developing sorcerous power behind all three blows. The elbow broke Tad's ribs. Charlie's back kick destroyed the other boy's knee. The coup de gras came when Charlie's spinning back fist drove the shattered remnants of his opponent's nose and cheekbone into his brain. Tad died instantly.
Tears flowed freely as Charlie went over the incident again and again. The cops had decided it was justified self-defense. However, they'd been surprised at the amount of damage Charlie's attack had inflicted. Grandfather Kim had been there, as before, but there was nothing for him to do. In the end, Charlie knew he'd failed. He'd failed to protect his girl, and he'd failed Sa Bum Nim by using his arts to take a life.
What was it that Master had said on that old TV show? Charlie remembered being enamored of the syndicated reruns of the show 'Kung Fu' when he first started learning the martial arts. Oh, yeah. Master Kan had told young Caine, "Avoid, rather than check. Check, rather than hurt. Hurt, rather than maim. Maim, rather than kill. For all life is precious, nor can any be replaced."
And now, two lives had been lost because he'd failed. Worse, his determination to be a healer wasn't happening. Oh, Charlie could go to medical school, but that wasn't what he and Christie had wanted. Christie had planned to use her Healer Sight and Talent to understand diseases in ways Charlie never would be able. Then she could use those magically obtained insights to find more mundane methods of accomplishing what she could with her magic.
Dammit, he did not want to live with having been a killer! More to the point? Christie's Valerie needed him. . .her. Charlie/Christie NEEDED to be a healer.
Sitting up straight, Charlie focused on the image in the mirror. For the fourth time this evening, Charlie centered himself and dove back into his inner self. This time he went searching for Christie.
Several hours later, Amanda and Rebekah, having heard nothing and seen nothing of either Charlie or Christie, had crept stealthily up to his/her bedroom. Cracking open the door, Amanda peaked in and saw her daughter, unconscious, lying on the bedroom floor in front of the mirror.
~-~
Continued by Paula Dillon and Tigger
Part 22 - Facing the Morning After
The smell of freshly brewed coffee tickled at the edges of Christie's awareness. Although sleep still beckoned, she cracked one eye open and surveyed her space. There was sunlight peaking around her bedroom's window shades, suggesting that she had missed sunrise again. Struggling awake, she glanced over at her digital clock and took in the time and the day. It was Monday which meant morning ballet class, and she only had an hour before she had to head off for the dance studio. Reaching over to turn on her lamp, Christie was momentarily surprised to find it missing from her bedside table.
Sitting up, Christie took stock of her situation. She was momentarily startled to see her lamp on the other side of her room, near her dressing mirror. Where she'd put it in preparation for the last phase of her sorcerer's trial. But the last thing she recalled was sitting on the yoga mat and seeing Charlie's reflection in her mirror. She almost asked herself how she'd gotten into bed, dressed in a nightgown no less, when the answer immediately became apparent. Mom and Grandma had taken care of her.
Pulling off her nightgown in preparation for her morning shower, Christie stopped in front of her mirror and scrutinized herself. Evidently, Charlie's attempt at the transformation spell was also successful. Christie was back in all her feminine glory.
Christie took a minute to consider what she should do next. There were questions she needed to answer and problems to be faced. For a moment, Christie thought about trying to find answers to her questions on her own but then thought better of it. Between the two of them, her Mother and Grandmother had many years of experience dealing with sorcerous issues. Christie figured she'd get better answers far more quickly with their help than by stumbling along in the dark by herself.
Nodding to herself, Christie hustled into her bathroom.
~-~
She found her Mother and Grandmother sitting at the breakfast bar drinking their morning coffee when she strode in, dressed in a leotard and leggings, ready for dance class. She went to the cupboard for her own cup, poured her morning coffee, then took her own seat at the bar.
Christie was trying to decide how best to initiate this discussion when her Mother exclaimed, "You decided to choose Christie?"
Nodding, Christie put her cup down and sighed. "Yes. Charlie wasn't a healer," she told them solemnly, "And as I told you both, there is something in me, in my spirit if you will, that needs to be a healer. Charlie could have gotten a medical degree, but he couldn't do what I want to accomplish by combining my powers with modern medical technology."
"And you still have your healer talents?" Rebekah asked gently.
"Pretty sure I do, Grandma Bekka. I was going to tinker around upstairs trying to figure out what I can now do, but that seemed inefficient when I had you two here to help me. Besides, I have to be at class in a little over an hour to help teach the kids, so I didn't want to waste any time. What do you recommend we do first?"
Amanda nodded and thought for a moment. "Why don't you go over into the center of the kitchen and stand straight, arms out at the shoulders. Mom? You want to scan for raw power while I try to categorize her abilitie from her aura?"
Christie assumed the requested position, standing before the two older women. She relaxed her mind and was startled when she actually felt the touch of each sorceress' power as they scanned her.
"OH, MY GODDESS!" Rebekah yelped. "Her power! It's bubbling and sizzling like an erupting volcano. I've never . . . Amanda, she's half again as powerful as you, and you were the strongest I've ever scanned before her."
Amanda didn't immediately reply and stayed focused on her own task of sorting through her daughter's aura, then correlating that to her magical strengths and talents. Amanda's spell worked like a spectrograph; only the output should have given them clues to the extent of Christie's new abilities. However, her daughter's auric frequency peaks and nulls didn't correlate to anything she'd ever sensed before. Finally, she dropped her spell and sat heavily down on her chair. "Mother? We may need to call in some Old School experts to examine her. Her aura is unlike anything I've ever seen before. She has some extreme auric frequencies that I have never encountered before. The only thing I'm sure of is that she is, in fact, a Healer. A remarkably POWERFUL healer."
"Well," Grandmother said, "That's all well and good. Only one small problem with that. If we don't know what she can do, how in heaven's name are we going to train her?"
"That's why we're going to need the experts, Mom. I can help her with her healing, and you can manage general sorcery, but whatever abilities those other frequencies indicate? We have to know what they are to even plan her training."
"Umm, Mom? Grandmother? Am I a danger to others?"
"Are you dangerous? Potentially, yes," Amanda said carefully, "But everything I know about our abilities is that using them requires intent. Otherwise, we couldn't sleep. A nightmare might lead to some type of catastrophic response, and to my knowledge."
"What about what I did to Tad?" Christie asked, but at the same time recalling Charlie's experience in the other timeline.
"You had intent, child," her Grandmother answered. "If I recall what you told me about it, you focused everything you had when you retaliated against him. The act of focus is intent. If you were attacked from behind again? Taken by surprise and reacted as you've been trained in your martial arts? You would be very dangerous to your attacker, probably even lethal. Otherwise? No, you're not because you do not want or intend to hurt anyone."
"How long do you think it will take to get these experts here to evaluate me and recommend my training?"
"Your Mother has to go to work today, but I'll reach out to my contacts and set something up. I'm fairly sure we can have someone here in a few days."
Christie shrugged her shoulders and nodded. "I guess I'm going to be walking on eggshells until then. Is there anything else you can do now?" Mother and Grandmother shared a look, then shook their heads. "Okay, so we wait. In the meantime, I do have a question about last night."
"Only one?" Amanda asked, chuckling.
"For now, anyway. How come you didn't tell me how hard I'd have to fight to get Charlie to come back with me when I found him?"
"Huh?"
"What??" her Mother asked. "What do you mean you had to fight?"
"Well, at first, I thought it must have been part of the trial - sort of a final challenge? Whenever I reached out to him, he dodged away or broke my grip. Several times. I practically had to attack him, and even then, once I had a firm grip, he still resisted me the whole way back to our reality."
"That is very strange," Rebekah murmured. "I've never heard or read of such a thing. In my case, my alternate self met me halfway, and the instant we touched, I was back in the real world, transformed." She looked to Amanda, who was nodding in agreement. "It took a little effort to find him, but once I did? Nothing like you've described."
"I wondered about that. I figured you'd have at least hinted if there was something like that involved." Shaking her head at the memory, Christie added softly to herself, "It was as if Charlie didn't want to come back with me."
"Why wouldn't he?" Amanda demanded. "It's the culmination of the trial, the key step to the next phase. Why would you even think that?"
Christie didn't immediately reply; she just sat there looking unhappy. Finally, she blew out a breath and looked up at her Mother. "He wasn't a healer, Mom," she said softly.
"So?" Grandma Bekka retorted. "Neither am I. There must be something else, dear."
"Maybe. I think I might know, and I think . . . I think I need to discuss this with Grandfather Kim. I'll tell you if you absolutely must know, Mom, but I'd really like Papa Kim's take on this first. It's psychic stuff, and uhm, pretty far out there on the weird scale."
Amanda didn't like that idea at all. Christie saw her start to tell her daughter that couple of times, but she stopped herself each time. "I really want to know, Christie, but if you think this is something you need to discuss with Papa first, I will accept your judgment. But only for the time being. Promise me that you will discuss whatever this is with me eventually. I'm your Mother, and you . . .you're my baby, and I need to protect you!"
Rising from her seat, Christie moved quickly to stand between the two women, encircling each in one arm. The three women rocked each other, offering comfort until the youngest of them spoke. "I promise. I think it's like the precog stuff. I'm hoping Papa Kim will be able to help me sort this all out in my head." Breaking the hug, she looked at their kitchen clock. "Now, I've got to be off to the studio, and you, Mom, are running late for work. See you both later. I'm gonna try to see Grandfather Kim this afternoon."
~-~
When Christie finished her ballet lesson, she felt better. The kids had been great, and they'd accomplished a great deal. Even Madame Renee had been impressed. Maybe, sometime in the future, Christie figured she could get almost used to the new almost-nice Renee Coulter. Before class, Renee had asked Christie, quite nicely, if the younger woman felt well enough to participate today. It was only Monday, and her Mom had kept Christie out of class on Friday because she'd been overdoing again. Maybe someday she would. But then again, maybe not.
Christie had called Sa Bum Nim before her ballet class, and he'd told her he'd have all the time she needed after 1:30 but would be tied up working with the advanced black belts until then. They'd agreed upon 2PM since Grandfather simply couldn't say no to a student who had a question or needed guidance.
With time on her hands, Christie decided to go visit Valerie. Her link to Valerie seemed to be more robust and more detailed than before her trial had ended the previous night. If she concentrated, Christie would swear that she could smell the distinct odor of hospital-grade disinfectants. She also seemed to be able to sense when Val had a visitor. She needed to give her BFF a status report on their linkage after she dumped the whole sorcery deal on her last Saturday.
As Christie walked in, Valerie was just finishing her lunch - which Christie clearly sensed had not been a culinary delight. "Hey, Stevens, how are you doing?"
"Christie! It's you!"
Giving herself a thorough looking over and then stepping in front of a nearby mirror, Christie nodded and smiled at her friend. "Yup. I'm definitely me. Good call, girlfriend."
"Oh, you! You know what I meant. You're not that. What was his name? That Charlie-guy you said I knew. So either what you told me about didn't work, or you changed back after the first try worked?"
Christie moved a chair to be close to Valerie's ear and still have a clear view of the room's entrance. In a near whisper, she replied, "It worked, and I did, in fact, change back."
"Well, why, dummy? I mean, I'm all for girl power, but if you were born a guy and raised a guy, why not stay a guy? No glass ceiling and all that crap."
"Two reasons, really. First, I have a reputation to maintain. You'd have been Charlie's girlfriend if he'd stayed, which meant he'd have to cut Daniel out of the picture." Christie was trying to be careful and not tell Valerie all of Charlie and Val's story. "And after all the effort I went through to hook you two lovebirds up, I just couldn't allow that. So I'm still all-girl, and Daniel can safely continue to plight his troth! And I remain the undisputed matchmaker of the Kim Dojang. Good thing you don't do girls, huh?"
"Yeah, okay, McKellar. You are a true marvel of modern romance. So, what's the second and more likely, real reason you are here in all your feminine glory, hmmm?"
Christie was glad Valerie would never know the real reason and told her, "Charlie wasn't a healer. Never could be a healer because he didn't have the right powers. So Medical School to become a doctor was his only option, and that just isn't good enough for Charlie or me."
"And you still have healing abilities?"
"Yes, and I am much more powerful that way than I was last time we talked."
Eyes wide, Valerie stared up at Christie with hope shining on her face. "Does that mean. . . does that mean you can fix me? All the way?"
"I'm pretty sure I'll be able to once I learn how to control it. Right now, I don't think I should try. You know that saying that boys have, 'if the only tool you have is a hammer, everything looks like a nail?'"
"No, but it sounds like the kind of crap boys would say."
Christie giggled. "Yeah, well, Right now? All I have is a damned hammer. A freakin' great big one and I think I need something a little more subtle and finely controlled before I try to mess around in your grey matter."
"Well, when you put it like that. How long do you think it will take you to learn? The doctors are really noncommittal about how bad this might get or how soon."
"Okay, my healer abilities basically come down to two different talents. One is the ability to directly interact with living tissue and fix what's broke. Right now, that's a sledgehammer. The other ability is what we call Healer Sight. I can see or sense what's wrong. That works just fine. Between my Mother and me working together on you last Saturday, we arrested any further spread of that bruise on your brain. It's not going to get any worse. YOU'RE NOT GOING TO GET ANY WORSE. I am SURE of that, okay? Believe me, Val! That's the straight stuff."
A couple of tears leaked out of Valerie's eyes, and she reached over to place her hand on Christie's. "Okay, girlfriend, I believe, and thanks."
Christie patted her friend's hand and smiled. "You're welcome. Anything else on your mind? I need to grab some lunch and see Grandfather Kim at the dojang."
"Oh, lots and lots, McKellar, but nothing that can't wait for another time. Have a good lunch."
"Thanks, babe. See you soon." Christie leaned over and kissed her friend on the forehead. "Keep the faith, girl."
Christie had just about reached the door when Val called out to her. Looking back over her shoulder, she stopped and lifted a single eyebrow in query. "Hey, Christie? Whoever said I didn't do girls? Byeeee."
~-~
Christie wasn't sure why it was so easy to unload on Papa Kim - his Jedi Mind Tricks, maybe - but it seemed like she could tell him anything, and he'd be able to help. As she went over last night's adventures in detail, he simply sat and listened quietly. His trademark little half-smile encouraging her to tell him everything.
"I just . . .no, let's say it this way, Charlie couldn't confront what he'd done, what he'd lost, his failure. All we could think of was that old Kung Fu Television show. There was that quote from the first show about avoiding rather than checking up until maim rather than kill because all life is precious. I've told my folks and Val that Christie is back because of the Healer thing. That's mostly the truth but in all honesty? If Charlie had been a healer with Val and Tad still dead? I don't know what I would have done."
"A very said tale, Jeja, and one you should take with you in the future. Let me, however, make a few observations. Master Kan's statement is very accurate and something to live by, but you must remember that he did not say you can never kill. Just that it is the very last resort. Remember that the Shao Lin were an order of warrior monks. In their mission of protecting and helping people, they sometimes had to step in where others would kill, and their only recourse was to kill first.
"Secondly, recall that Tae Kwando is a martial art. It can be a sport played by artificial rules intended to prevent injury or worse. However, I have taught the arts to young soldiers in the South Korean Army. They did not learn these skills to practice sports; they learned to stay alive in a hostile world at war.
"So, let us consider Tad's attack on Charlie and Valerie. Had Charlie not reacted with his whole ability, had he 'pulled his punch,' there might have been three deaths and not just two. Charlie did as he had to do, Jeja, and the only blame in that is Tad's. Charlie did not fail. He did his best.
"Now, as to your statement that even if Charlie had been a healer, he would have gone back to Christie because you did not say it, but it was because of shame?" Face crumpling, Christie nodded her agreement and tried to choke back sobs. "Jeja, if Charlie had been a healer, Valerie would not have died, just as she did not die in this timeline. You told me Charlie tried to use his healer abilities on her. If he'd had them, they'd have done what yours did, and when you transformed back to Charlie, he would have been able to help Valerie in the same way you will soon be able to, correct?"
Christie forced herself to calm and considered Sa Bum Nim's words. Valerie had died because Charlie wasn't a healer, but if he had BEEN a healer . . .? "It makes my head spin trying to follow that logic, but I think maybe you're right," she finally said with a watery little smile. "Maybe."
"Meditate on it, Jeja. I think you will see what I mean and find peace. All right?" Breathing deeply, his girl nodded. "Anything else?"
Sighing again, she nodded. "Sa Bum Nim? I am MUCH more powerful than I was; much more powerful than Charlie was in his TimeLine. I am afraid that I might inadvertently lash out like I did against Tad during class sparring sessions. I'm wondering if I should give up the arts for the safety of others."
"No. As I said after the Tad incident, you will always have this power just below the surface. What you must do is be in absolute control of it. To accomplish that, you must discipline your mind, body and spirit. My family and I will teach you, and you will learn. You need the arts more than ever, Jeja. However, I do not think you should plan on competing unless it is something like Freestyle Poomsae."
"I was never much into the competition side of things anyway, Sa Bum Nim. What is Freestyle Poomsae?"
The old man grinned broadly at his student. "Think of it as a fusion of Ballet and Taekwando done to music and scored like gymnastics. I think you could be a contender, Jeja."
"Wow. Cool, Grandfather. What a great concept! Madame Renee could help me, too!"
Papa Kim laughed and reached over to pat Christie on the shoulder. "Just so, Jeja. Now, I think you should go home and have a heart-to-heart with your Mother. Just between you and me? She called me today, very upset about what you felt you couldn't tell her. She needs to know, and you need to tell her, yes?"
"Yes, Grandfather. Thank you."
~-~
Mind, Body and Spirit Redux, Part 23
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Part 23 - Just Learning to Be Christie - Again
Since it was only a little after 4 PM when she left the dojang, Christie knew she had at least an hour before her Mother would get home from work. Grandma Bekka was probably waiting for them both, but Christie seriously wanted to do this rehash only once. In addition, she could use a little alone time to get things a little straighter in her own mind. Christie started her car, pulled away from the dojang and headed to the city park. In the shelter provided by a quiet little copse of trees, Christie settled in to consider the best tactic to take when she explained herself to Mom and Grandma.
On the one hand, they were both very concerned about her 'Charlie Time' experience, especially after being so reluctant to talk about ALL Charlie's reasons for reversing the transformation back to Christie. They were in no mood to accept a figurative pat on their heads and then told 'not to worry about it .'Crap! Mom had even called Papa Kim! From WORK!
On the other hand, what did they really NEED to know? That was a thornier issue. They knew that SOMETHING had happened last night to upset Charlie/Christie because, no, she hadn't exactly been subtle with them when it came to her emotions, had she? But now was not this morning, and her feelings and mindset were not the same as when she had come downstairs this morning.
Thanks to Papa Kim. He had been right on the money with his observations, too. Charlie had no choice but to react as he did when Tad had attacked. Charlie would have been out quickly and likely dead if Tad had been able to reapply his hold after Valerie's attack. How THAT outcome might have impacted this damned trial was a question Christie simply did NOT want answered. EVER.
Charlie had been in a confrontation with an opponent using deadly force - he'd reacted the way he had been trained with countermoves appropriate to the threat. Had Charlie killed? Yes. Was he a killer? Well, that depends on how one looks at it. Was there any other way Charlie could have stopped Tad's kill move other than by the application of deadly force on the part of Charlie?
And the honest answer kept coming up, 'No.' He'd been mere seconds from being completely unconscious. Charlie wasn't going to get a second chance. It was really a simple choice. Go big or go home. Or rather, go big or go to the hospital. Or to the morgue. From that perspective, the answer was also 'No. Charlie wasn't a killer.' He was simply a guy in a crap situation who had been given only one viable choice. That choice had resulted in Tad's death.
With that out of the way, what would she tell Mom and Grandma? Whatever she decided had to be the truth. The explanation also had to be serious enough that they would understand why she had needed to talk to Papa Kim. And finally, it absolutely couldn't clue them in to the really dark crap Christie had floating in her head this morning. Her watch told her she'd run out of thinking time. Mom would be arriving home just about the time she did if she left now. No way was Mom working overtime tonight! Amanda McKellar would be a woman on a mission!
~-~
Surprisingly, Christie was the first home. As she entered the house, she received a text from her Mom that she was just now leaving her office. Then she found a note on the breakfast bar from Grandma Bekka that she'd gone out to get some Chinese takeout for dinner. Both women planned to be home in the next ten to fifteen minutes.
Deciding that a bit of alcoholic lubrication might smooth the coming talk, Christie checked the fridge. She found an unopened bottle of her Mother's favorite white wine. She quickly collected her Mom's serving tray, ice bucket and wine glasses and put the wine on ice. Christie's little offering was laid out in the family room when her Mother's car pulled into their driveway. Moments later, the less familiar sound of her Grandmother's vehicle heralded her return.
Christie had just finished setting out the wine when both women hurried into the house. "Hi, Mom, hi Gran," she called out to them, "I'm in the family room, and I set out wine to go with Gran's takeout."
"Wine?" Amanda answered as she came into the room carrying some takeout bags. "You think we'll need it?"
"Can't hurt. 'A little wine for thy stomach's sake' etcetera. Here, Gran, let me help you with those," Christie said, reaching up to take some of the remaining bags. "Mom? Why don't you pour while I get some water for me."
"Just bring another glass, Christie. A little wine won't hurt you, either, and it might loosen your tongue."
"MOOooom!" Causing all of them to laugh. Once the wine was poured and the food dished up, Christie took a deep breath and began. "First, I want to apologize for this morning. I had a lot jumbled up in my head. I'm sorry I put you off, Mom, but it really helped me when I talked to Grandfather. I don't know what it is about him, but he's just so good at helping you make sense of things."
"He's a good and wise man, honey. I'm glad you had him to talk with about whatever you had to work out."
Nodding, Christie looked at her plate and then set it aside. Maybe after she'd unburdened to family, the food might look more appetizing. "Okay, I told you that I'm back as Christie because Charlie wasn't a healer. And that's the truth, only there's more to it than just that. I've been trying to figure out how to tell this . . ." She paused, frowned, and finally sat straight in her seat, squaring her shoulders. "Right. Some essential background information first, and I will use the third person for Charlie. It's the only way I can keep him and me straight in this . . .mess."
"All right, dear," Rebekah said encouragingly. "We have used that ploy ourselves when thinking or talking about our sex change trials. Go ahead."
"Thanks, Gran. Valerie Stevens was Charlie's girlfriend in his timeline."
"GIRLFRIEND?!?" Amanda demanded. "How did that happen? When? I mean..."
"Mom," Christie snarked. "You remember Charlie's birthday party at the dojang." At her nod. "Well, who fed Charlie got fed his birthday cake? Because he was just a little tied up at the time."
Amanda choked back a laugh. "Oh, god, I didn't remember that because that isn't what happened in this timeline. Val fed you. . I mean, Charlie, while sitting on his lap."
"Yeah. Mom, like most guys? Charlie was pretty clueless about girls, but he wasn't so oblivious that he missed that clue! In Charlie's timeline, they started dating and were getting pretty serious for a couple of sixteen-year-olds."
"Serious? You. . Damn! Charlie and Val had sex?"
"Need to know, Mom. I haven't tried to remember that memory of Charlie's, so I can't say for sure. But to be clear, they were a couple and spent a lot of time together. Now here's where it gets messy. The attack on Christie and Val by Tad in our timeline? Happened to Charlie and Valerie, too. The big difference was that instead of confronting Charlie face-to-face as he did with Christie? Tad attacked Charlie and Valerie from behind with the same chokehold. Basically, the rest went pretty much the same as it did in this timeline. Valerie attacked Tad, breaking his hold on Charlie, Tad back fisted Val in the temple, and Charlie neutralized Tad."
"So, basically, it was the same as what Christie and Val experienced?"
Christie felt tears begin to burn her eyes as she shook her head. "Almost, but not quite. Charlie wasn't a healer."
Amanda felt herself getting impatient and interrupted, "You told us tha. . . Oh, no . . ."
"Charlie wasn't a healer," Christie repeated. "He tried to heal Val. He'd watched you do it in that timeline, and he tried with everything he had in him. Valerie died there on the street before the EMTs even arrived."
"Oh my God, and you - Christie - experienced that right along with Charlie," Grandmother breathed softly.
"And Charlie felt her die under his hands," His Mother snarled, even as she launched herself at her grieving child. "Charlie should have killed that little shit!" Christie felt herself wrapped into her Mother's arms and let the tears fall freely. Soft, comforting sounds were whispered into her ears as she was gently rocked back and forth.
Sniffling, Christie tried to sit up. "I've got to finish this. Charlie loved Valerie as much as a young man can love a young woman, and her loss devastated him. Moreover, I, and by that, I mean, me, Christie, love my Valerie. She needed me, and Charlie realized that I could still help her. Yeah, I want to be a healer. That much is true, but the primary reason Charlie invoked the transformation is so that we could be here in this timeline for my Val."
Amanda nodded, rubbing her cheek against her daughter's. "You love her . . .like that?"
"Don't know. Maybe. It's just too much of a jumble just now to try and figure any of that out. Hell, Mom, I just hooked her up with a really nice guy because I didn't think she liked girls - not as lovers, anyway. I saw her today, and she corrected me on that. Blew me away, let me tell you."
"Like Mother, like daughter, I guess," Amanda mused. "You know, Christie, Mom and I were a little worried that you might be unable to invoke the transformation spell this year. You went through your whole trial basically without any romantic interests. For Mom and me, that was a big part of our experience - dealing with the new opposite sex."
"I am positive that my trial was about becoming a Healer, Mom. I am certain that the talent is hard-linked to the females of our lineage. Learning that healing was my true calling was the key to my being able to invoke the transformation spell. Mom? You should go eat your dinner. I'm okay now."
Amanda reluctantly released her hold on Christie but didn't get up from where she sat crowded up against her daughter. Instead, she reached across the coffee table and collected her plate and her wine. "So, you said you visited Valerie?" Christie nodded but still made no move toward her own plate. "And did you try to heal her? From what Mom and I saw this morning, you certainly should have more than enough power for it, now."
"No," Christie sighed. "Thought about it but decided I really needed more training first. I'm kinda like belladonna, I think. You know, the plant they call deadly nightshade? It is toxic as all get out, lethal in fact, but properly processed and administered to a patient appropriately and in tiny doses? It can be used safely to treat a wide variety of ailments. My power is like a 10-acre nightshade garden on steroids. I must be able to control it very finely before using it on anybody. Otherwise, I will certainly do a lot more harm than help."
"I never had that problem," Amanda objected. "I mean, I was fixing bruises, cuts and skin burns from day one. No problems."
"We already know that your talent isn't that powerful, to begin with, Mom. Like my nightshade analogy, you started out only able to administer tiny doses. Oh, as you've gotten more experienced, you've become more clever and efficient using your talent, so you can do more now than when you first emerged."
"So where does that leave Val and her current medical condition."
I did use my healer sight on her. That's just passive sensing, so I couldn't hurt her with that talent. What we did together for Val on Saturday arrested the damage. We have time now for me to get that training."
"So that's your plan now? On top of dance and Taekwondo, you're going full speed ahead with your healer and sorcery training?"
"I think I pretty much have to, Mom. There's just so much I have to learn - just to be me - again. I'm just too powerful now. I used to wonder how Superman interacted with just-plain normal earth folks. He's so strong that he can knock down brick buildings with a finger flick. I think part of the reason he's okay around us fragile types is that he grew into his powers from early childhood, interacting with normal folks every day. I haven't done that. I just woke up one morning as Superman, err, girl, and now I have to learn how to be this new me without breaking anything or anybody in the process. It's a little scary."
"Your Grandmother and I understand, at least a little, because we've also been through that. We'll get you the help you need, Christie." Her Mom assured her. Sighing, Christie just leaned into her Mom, closed her eyes, and fell asleep.
~-~
Mind, Body and Spirit Redux, Part 24
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Part 24 - First Healing Magic Trainer
Christie slowed to cool down from her Sunday morning jog. Since she didn't have dance or taekwondo on Sundays, she took that as an opportunity to do a longer run than she did as part of her regular workouts. The early July morning was already quite warm and indicated that the day would be another hot one!
She'd spent the last hour reflecting on everything that had happened since her birthday/transformation day. Papa Kim had stepped up her meditation training now that she'd come into her full powers. He still wouldn't let her spar with just anyone, but at least she wasn't knocking the heavy bag off its chain anymore, and she couldn't just let herself go as she had back in May sparring against Tracy. Keeping her Chi (Grandfather's term for it) under control required a calm, cool head. It was just as well Christie wasn't particularly interested in Taekwondo competitions. Getting 'psyched up' for a sparring match was definitely not a good idea.
With her Mother's and Grandmother's help, Christie was developing better control of her Healer Sight abilities. Sometimes, she felt like a human electron microscope; her 'mental resolution' had become so fine. However, unfortunately, Christie still had to learn more about what her talent saw. Injuries, sicknesses and other physical problems looked 'wrong' to her, but in most cases, she didn't know precisely what was wrong. As her Mom observed, it was kind of hard to fix something if you didn't understand why it was a problem. You might accidentally fix something that wasn't broken and make things worse instead of better.
Valerie was starting carefully monitored physical therapy over at the hospital. The doctors were concerned about her motor controls and wanted to ease her back into any physical activity under knowledgeable supervision. Christie was careful to keep track of her friend's brain injury. She was pleased to see the last inhibition field her Mom had created was still preventing the damage from spreading. However, this was one of the places where Christie could sense something was still 'wrong' but didn't know what or how to heal it. Somehow, Christie didn't think Mrs. Stevens would let her daughter practice taekwondo until she was fully healed. Maybe she'd let Val try dance when she was released from the hospital? No sparring in ballet and the exercise would at least satisfy Valerie's need to be active and fit. Something to talk over with Val during their next visit.
Mrs. Dewinter, the head counselor at Dolley Madison High School, was due back from her vacation later this week. Christie had made a tentative appointment to meet with her. She wanted to discuss her remaining program of studies to prepare herself for a Pre-Med program at college. Christie had already completed most of her core graduation requirements and had plenty of slack in her senior schedule. Her fall schedule already included several advanced placement courses; redirecting them to a more science-centric program shouldn't be a big problem assuming seats were still available in those classes.
Rounding the corner onto her street, Christie saw an unfamiliar vehicle parked in front of her house. Mom had told her she had made arrangements for Christie to meet with one of the better sorcerous healers today, but it wasn't even eight o'clock yet! Slipping into her backyard, she crept to the patio doors to have a peak. A woman dressed in a gray business suit was sitting at the breakfast bar with her Mom, drinking coffee. Her Mother's apparent ease with the stranger meant that the woman was a guest and not a threat. Just a relatively early guest. The healer, perhaps? Only one way to find out, Christie told herself.
Opening the patio door, Christie called out, "Mom, I'm back!" and walked into the kitchen.
"Ah, Christie, you're home," Amanda said, looking up from their guest. "You were gone longer than I expected. Everything all right?"
"Just my regular Sunday morning run, Mom. You usually sleep later on Sundays, so I guess you didn't realize I try to get in ten miles on mornings I don't have dance or karate."
"And I forgot to tell you our guest would be arriving first thing this morning My bad. Sorry, Karen." The other woman made an 'it's nothing' gesture as she looked Christie over carefully. "Christie, I'd like to introduce Dr. Karen MacTire. She is an associate professor of osteopathic medicine at Johns Hopkins University. She is also a sorceress with potent healing talents. I've asked her to come and see if she can help you with your abilities. Karen, this is my daughter, Christie McKellar. As I told you, she fully emerged from her trial last month, and her healing ability far exceeds my own."
Christie walked over with her hand extended in greeting. Dr. MacTire was a brunette of about Christie's height but a bit more slender than the athletic teen. She had a smile that lighted her eyes and a warm aura that put the younger woman at ease. "Pleased to meet you, Dr. MacTire. Are you of Scots heritage since your name is 'Mac' and not 'Mc' like ours?"
"And I'm very pleased and excited to meet you. Please, call me Karen, and I'll call you Christie if that's all right?" Christie nodded as they shook hands. "And no, 'tis Irish I am. Mac Tire is actually Irish Gaelic for 'wolf.' Someone in our family's past might have been Mcmactire but decided it was a bit too much of a mouthful."
"Well, I need a shower before I can do anything else in polite company. Should I dress in anything particular, Dr... I mean, Karen?"
"Shorts and a T-shirt will be fine with me, lass. But who is this polite company you're worried about? Amanda, I thought you said we'd have the entire day to ourselves." Karen demanded accusingly of Christie's grinning Mom.
"Oh, off with you, Christie! I can tell between the pair of you I will have my hands full today. I'm gonna have to call MY Momma to help keep you two hellions in line!" Amanda retorted and then stuck her tongue out at their guest.
Giggling at the older women's antics, Christie scurried off to get cleaned up. "I haven't eaten yet! If the Doctor needs to bleed me, fine, but I expect to be fed right after!"
~-~
Since Karen assured them that no blood-letting would be required, they settled down for one of Amanda's tasty breakfasts. "Christie, I understand that your Mother and your Grandmother have scanned you and started your general training. Can you tell me why they don't feel capable of overseeing your healer training?"
Christie looked over to her Mother, who simply smiled and nodded and then replied. "Mom says I'm just too strong. I did some simple stuff before my trial was over - eased a monthly, stopped some bleeding, but even I can tell that I'm so much more powerful now than I was back then. Back then, I was swinging a feather; now it's more like one of those hydraulic hammers they use to pound building supports down to the bedrock."
"An odd simile that, Christie. So visual, too."
Amanda snorted a laugh. "Well, my original analogy to her was the difference between a jeweler's hammer and John-Henry's sixteen-pound sledgehammer, but that was before she came into full power."
"Indeed," the doctor mused. "Well, in that case, once we have finished this delicious breakfast, I think I will begin by redoing the scans myself. I have your data, Amanda, and I'm sure they are accurate, but I am more powerful and better trained, so I may see something you did not."
"Great!" Amanda replied immediately. "I couldn't make heads or tails of her aura myself. It was like staring into the sun at high noon with the naked eye! It was blinding!"
"Well, we shall see what we shall see, then."
~-~
After finishing and cleaning up after breakfast, the three women adjourned to Christie's favorite meditation spot in Amanda's garden. "Lovely arrangement, Amanda. I can see how Christie would find this place so inviting. Now, Christie, I am just going to passively scan and record your aura. Just relax. Don't do anything magical. Just let your mind empty."
"Is it all right if I sit down? That's how I'm used to meditating."
"That's fine for a start. If I need another position, we'll do that next. For now, I want to see your aura when you are completely at rest."
Nodding, Christie sat on the grass and assumed her lotus position. Moments later, her mind was in her 'safe place,' and her face was completely relaxed. "Excellent," Karen murmured to Amanda. "Now, let's see . . . . HOLY MOTHER MARY!!!" the doctor yelled and instinctively brought her arm up to shield her eyes.
"Karen??!" Amanda called out, hurrying over to her friend. "Are you all right."
"I'm okay," she hissed softly. "Never in all me born days . . . Heavens above, Amanda. You got your analogy wrong. She's like staring into the noonday sun through a telescope. My mind's eye is seein' spots, for god's sake. Give me a bit of time, okay?" A few minutes later, Karen looked back at Christie. "Is she still out of it? She dinna react at all to that?"
Amanda smiled. "She's been studying meditation techniques with a 90-year-old Korean Grand Master. We'll have to call her back if we want her before she's ready to come back on her own."
"Amazing. Well, let's rouse your daughter. I've got another test or two still to run, but I'm startin' to feel just a wee bit uneasy about training her meself!" Amanda and Karen had known each other since their training days. That her friend's Irish burr was coming through spoke volumes for just how off-balance or excited or both Karen was at that moment.
~-~
"Now, Christie, I have a spell I want to try out on you. This is designed to inhibit particularly powerful trainees' sorcerous strength so they can ease into learning to use their abilities without harming themselves or anyone else. Once it is removed, there will be no lingering after-effects, so it is completely safe."
"Okay, Karen. What do you want me to do?"
"I want you to scan me with your Healer's Sight. That is harmless anyway, so it is a good place to start. I will cast the inhibition on you at full strength. That should completely block your access to your power. Then I will gradually reduce the strength of the inhibition until your Sight starts to return. Any questions?"
"Umm, should I try to push through the inhibition if I can?"
"Yes. I want to know when your power starts to overcome my spell. Ready?" Christie nodded. "All right, start trying to scan me. We will continue the test until you tell me you have your full range of Sight back."
For a few moments, Christie felt disoriented, as if she were trying to look through a foggy night at swirling lights. Taking a deep breath, she centered herself and unleashed her Healer Sight. The fog disappeared instantly, and Karen was bathed in the 'light' of Christie's Healer Sight.
Fascinated with the process, Christie did as she had been told. She scanned Karen's body. "WHOA!" She breathed, "What is THAT?"
"What is what? What happened?" Karen demanded. "What are you doing, girl?"
"Umm, you have this speck, in your left breast . . .it's tiny, about the size of the head of a pin, but it's . . 'wrong' somehow. It's only a few hundred cells at most, but they're different from those surrounding it. Oh, COOL! You're being treated for it, aren't you, Karen? Mom? It's like the inhibition ward you used with Valerie, only this one is at the individual cell level! Each cell is . . .sort of locked up. NEAT!"
Karen stepped back, staring at Christie in apparent disbelief. "Did I jump the gun and start looking before you got your spell complete?"
Dr. MacTire slowly sat down on the patio bench. "No, my spell is at full strength. No one has ever been able to access their powers when I cast that spell at full power. And you saw . . .you called it a speck?"
"Yeah, a speck. Something's really wrong with those cells - I think it might be isolated to the cell nuclei. Still, I haven't had a lot of higher-level biology courses yet, so I'm not sure about the nuclei thing. Just that the wrongness seems to be pretty small."
"And you saw, what did you call it, an inhibition ward around each cell?"
"Well, they looked like the ward that Mom used on my friend, but she put it around the entire injury. These are much smaller and seem to just enclose one cell each. I want to learn to do that!"
Karen shook her head slowly. "Join the club, young lady. I'd like to know how to do it, too. So far, my Mum's all but given up tryin' ta teach me how."
Christie cocked her head, looking at the speck more closely. "Ya know, it wouldn't be that hard . . .I wonder. Yes! Did it!"
"Did. . .what, Christie," Amanda asked cautiously.
"Put those fields around the cells in that other speck - the one on her right ovary. They looked wrong the same way the ones in her breast tissue did. I figured it wouldn't hurt to try with them, and whoever did the first ones could examine the wrongness there. I think those cells were trying to fission, so I stopped them."
"You. Stopped. Them. And these wrong cells on my ovary, you say?"
"Yes, Ma'am. Sorry, I got carried away. They just felt so wrong. I can undo the wards if you think I should."
"No . . No, that's fine, dear. It can wait until . . . Excuse me, please. I need to make a phone call." And rising from her seat, Dr. Karen MacTire, DO, hustled back into the McKellar house to retrieve her purse and phone.
~-~
Curious but not wanting to intrude, Christie and Amanda listened in from outside the patio's screen door. Karen didn't seem to care if they heard her anyway, as her side of the conversation was emphatic and rather loud.
"Mom, I NEED you. . ..Mom, I don't care that you've been shooting all morning. Yes, I know your rifle needs to be cleaned every time it's fired. MOM! I need you NOW. It is URGENT! STAT! Ask Poppa Paul to clean your rifle for once. You can grade his performance when you get back, but MOM? I. Need. YOU!" Karen stopped to listen and then let out a relieved breath. "No, I'm not at home. You remember, don't you? I had a consultation today with Amanda McKeller's girl? I need you here, Mom, YESTERDAY! Yes, Mom. That'll be fine. Thank you. Love you too. Give Wilma a head scratch for me."
With that, Karen broke the connection and started to put the phone back in her purse. Reconsidering, she slid the phone into the pocket of her suit coat and headed back out to talk to the McKellar women.
~
"And your Mom is coming here?" Amanda asked, surprised. They were chatting as they ate a light lunch of salad and iced tea out on the patio. "All the way from Edinburgh?"
"Ah, nay. Mum retired last year. She's a Professor Emerita of Medicine there now, but she got tired of having to age her looks. What's the point of havin' magically youthful looks if you have to look 75 years old every Monday when you go to work? She retired and moved here, so she isn't likely to run into her former colleagues. She has a place up in the mountains of western Maryland, so she's relatively close to me now and can help with my medical research from time to time."
"Edinburgh?" Christie asked. "Not an Irish college?"
"Ah, lassie," Karen grinned, hardening her burr intentionally, "The University of Edinburgh might be considered the United Kingdom's version of Johns Hopkins Medical School. 'Tis true that it is almost as good. Plus, they paid her an outrageous salary and catered to her every whim to get her out of Dublin."
"I can't wait to meet her!" The younger girl enthused.
"And I suspect she feels much the same way about you. We'll know by how much as soon as she arrives. She'll make the two-and-a-half-hour trip in less than 90 minutes if she's really excited; otherwise, it'll take two hours. Mum doesn't much care for speed limits."
~-~
Mind, Body and Spirit Redux, Part 25
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Part 25 - Second Healing Magic Trainer
The women finished cleaning up the lunch dishes when Christie turned to Karen and asked, "So, what's your Mom like? Is she going to be okay with getting ordered here without any prior warning?"
Oddly, Karen blushed. "Ah, perhaps I should warn ye about me Mum. . ."
"Karen," Amanda interrupted. "Your Irish is showing. You'll want that under control before Aunt Jessie gets here."
"True. All TOO true, Amanda, and thanks. Anyway, Christie, you must understand that one of my Mother's things was working as a battlefield surgeon during Operation Desert Storm. She's always been a bit. . .well, gruff and authoritative about her work, but she really liked how the military docs did things and how everyone snapped to when she gave an order. My Mom really LIKES giving orders. The only thing she likes better is when her orders are promptly and exactly obeyed. Her corrections can be rather . . .harsh."
Christie nodded her understanding. "Kinda like Gunny over at the gun range, Mum? Especially when he's instructing a newbie on gun and range safety?"
"An apt comparison, dear," Amanda replied with a smile. "Only remember that Gunny has become somewhat more civil in his reprimands of erring students. He's gotten more used to dealing with civilians and their inadequacies. I don't think Aunt Jessie has or ever will, right, Karen?"
Shaking her head, Karen almost groaned. "No, she hasn't, and she won't, most especially when she's been called in to train a new healer. I'd sort of hoped to be able to get you started before I had to call her in. You know those army comedies where young recruits are beleaguered by their training sergeants, Christie?"
"Yes, I've seen a few of those."
"Well, let them be your guide, at least until Mum decides you are worth her time."
"Seriously?" Christie asked, and when both older women nodded emphatically, "Wow. Okay, then."
Just then, the quiet of the early Sunday afternoon was shattered by the full-throated roar of a carburated, over-revved V-8 engine. "Oh God," Karen almost whined, "And she's at least ten minutes earlier than my worst guess. C'mon, you two! We definitely don't want to keep her waiting."
~-~
Jessica MacTire, MD, Ph.D. Professor Emerita of Medicine, University of Edinburgh, climbed out of a fire-engine-red 1969 Ford Mustang Mach One muscle car. To Christie's eyes, Both the vehicle and the woman looked as if they were annoyed to have stopped running. Jessica was taller than her daughter and possessed a huskier, more powerful build. Jessica MacTire exuded an unmistakable aura of 'She who WILL be obeyed! Or ELSE!', and Christie was pretty sure she didn't EVER want to experience that implied 'or ELSE!'
"Oh, shite, Mum! You ran off with Poppa's car??! How could you?"
"Eh, he had my truck," the intimidating woman said as she strode up to embrace her daughter. "'Sides, you said 'Stat,' didn't you?"
"Yes, Mum. I guess I did at that."
"And I'd have been here sooner, but yer Poppa needs to tune that beastie up some. Barely made 125 on my way here."
"MOMMA!??!" Karen tried to sound sternly disapproving, but her Mother shut her down with a glare.
"Aw, quit your blatherin', colleen. No copper is ever gonna see me go by, let alone catch me! Well, Amanda. What're you waiting for, girl? Where's my hug?"
Laughing, Amanda moved into Jessica's hug. "You haven't changed a bit, have you, Aunt Jess?"
"I have," the older woman refuted quickly. "I've gotten meaner and less patient, and didn't I tell you to call me Jess or Jessie last time we got together? Aunt makes me feel old. Now, is this lass staring at me like I was some type of kelpie or questing beastie your daughter? Present her already!"
"Yes, Aunt. . . I mean, yes, Jessie. May I present my daughter, Christie McKellar? Christie, this is Dr. Jessica MacTire, MD and Ph.D. in psychology. When I first came into my healing talent, she was one of my trainers.
Christie had no idea where it came from, but she felt an overwhelming urge to curtsy to their guest. She did and was sure she looked ridiculous in her T-shirt and shorts. "It is an honor, Dr. MacTire."
"Well, you've taught her manners, Amanda, and I would guess Karen taught her how to say my name since she didn't mangle the Gaelic TOO badly. Well, it's bloody hot out here. Let's go inside, and you can all explain why I'm here and not riding my Indian around the mountains of West Virginia."
~-~
Christie sat quietly while her Mother and Karen detailed what they had done and learned about Christie and her powers over glasses of Amanda's iced tea. Jessica took it all in and then turned a stern, assessing eye on Christie.
"You got anything to add to all that, girl?"
"Not really, ma'am, at least nothing quantitative. I just feel like I'm walking around with a high-powered, fully loaded pistol with a hair-trigger and no safety."
"So, you've been trained to use guns?"
"Yes, Ma'am, by both my Mom and the retired Marine Master Gunnery Sergeant who oversees our local gun range."
Nodding, Jessica replied. "That's good, then, because your analogy is right on point. However, if you're too powerful for my daughter to inhibit you, it's more like you're walking around with armed explosives. Perhaps between the two of us, we can inhibit you enough to train you as we normally would, but if not, this all just got a great deal more challenging. In that event, it is all on you. You have to control your power. You're too powerful to walk around uncontrolled. Just looking at your aura, I don't think we'll be able to inhibit you, so you will need discipline."
"That's what Grandfather Kim, I mean, Grand Master Kim told me - after I destroyed Tad's knee. He won't even let me spar with anyone he hasn't personally approved. It's one of the reasons he's been teaching me meditation and other psychic arts."
"All right, that will help. Now, I'm gonna apologize before we even begin, Missie. If I come off like a pissed-off Regimental Sergeant Major dealing with a boot camp reject, it's because that's the way I know I can lead you through what you need to learn. It's not personal - it's caution and caring."
"I'll do my best, Ma'am," Christie promised.
"Then let's get on with it. I just scanned my daughter and found those individual cell wards you put around those cancerous cells on her ovary. Let's start with those and how you knew they needed warding. Then we'll get into how you knew how to do it."
~-~
Much later, Jessie turned from her daughter to look at Christie. "And you say this 'wrongness' you see is very tiny and restricted to inside each warded cell?" At Christie's confident nod. "So, it seems likely that your hypothesis that what you're seeing is in the cell nuclei is correct. I just wish I could see what you're seeing. I see just fine to the cell level, but trying to see anything finer is beyond me."
"Umm . . Maybe . ." Christie began, unsure.
"What is it, girl?" The doctor snapped.
"Well, maybe if I merged with you, I could add enough power to your own that you might be able to see what I see?"
"WHAT?!? Merge? That's unheard of! Why would you even think of such a thing?"
Shrugging, Christie looked at her Mother before turning back to Jessica. "Because I've done it - twice. Once where I used my Mom's power and once where she was able to draw on mine."
Jessica looked from Mother to daughter and back again, her mouth open to speak but said nothing. Amanda merely nodded her agreement with Christie's assertion. "How?"
Christie stood and walked over to stand behind Jessica. She reached out to put her hands on the doctor's bare arms and stopped abruptly. "May I lay my hands on your arms, please? Momma and I had physical contact both times we did this, and I think that was necessary for the power to flow."
"Do it," Jessica ordered and then yelped. "Holy Shite!! I can bloody FEEL your strength - it's like a reservoir of power! Now what?"
"I'm not sure. We just did what we normally did, but we somehow used that reservoir to augment our power. Try looking at Karen again with the Sight."
"Oh. . . My . . . God! Christie! This is amazing! It's like the first time I looked at human hair through a microscope - only more! And you can just . . .do this?!?"
"With my Mom and evidently with you. I didn't know it was anything special because the first time I did this was before I fully emerged."
"Something for us to work on with this young lady, daughter. It's like I finally got a pair of glasses that worked after years of thinking everyone saw things as fuzzy as I did. Now, if I could just figure out something to do about those wrong little beasties in there . . ." Jessica finished, obviously talking to herself now.
Christie gave a slight cough before shyly offering. "I think I can do something, but I just wasn't sure it was a good idea, so I didn't."
Jessica spun about so quickly that their physical contact with Christie was broken. "What do you think you could do??! How?"
The young woman took a couple of steps back, fighting the urge to cringe under the doctor's suddenly intense and focused stare. "I'm pretty sure . . .very sure, I can just sort of pull the wrongness out of those cells. I did a little web surfing before lunch. If I understand what I read, cancer is basically uncontrolled cellular reproduction. Cellular reproduction starts in the nuclei where the DNA genetic material is stored. If I pull out the nuclei, no DNA, no reproduction. Ummm, right, Dr. MacTire? And even if I'm wrong, it's no more than a few hundred cells right now, and with your wards in place, they aren't doing anything anyway, right?"
Christie suddenly found herself being the focus of three intense and focused stares and decided to seek her mental 'safe place' to avoid showing weakness before these powerful women.
"Hmm. Can you do it while you share your vision with me, lass? I'd like to see if I could."
"I think so. It's really two different things like Mom always says - actual healing instead of the Sight. Shall we try? Karen? It's your body. If we try this, I insist on your permission."
"Hell, girl, I just wish I could see, too! If you think you can get this bloody time-bomb outta me chest, I'm all for ye tryin'!"
Christie looked to Jessica, who simply nodded and turned back to face Karen. "Mom? Would you hand Dr. MacTire that white tea saucer, please?" Amanda did as requested while Christie laid her hands back on Jessica's arms. "Got a visual on the cells, Doctor?"
"Aye, I do. Whenever you're ready then, Christie."
Closing her eyes, Christie concentrated her Chi as she'd been taught by Papa Kim. The cells came into view but quickly resolved into smaller discrete points of 'wrongness.' Focusing as tightly as she could, she reached into each of the warded cells and . . .pulled.
"Tis gone!" Jessica all but crowed. "Every last bit of it, but where . . .?"
"On the saucer, Dr. MacTire," Christie said. "Focus your Healer Sight on that tiny spot of pink."
"Lord above, girl. That's . . .that's what was wrong in those cells. And the cells," Jessica turned back to look at her daughter, "They're dead - ready for the body to dispose of like any cell past its due date. I can't find any sign of cancer or pre-cancerous cells anywhere in her except for that ovary. Can you do the same again?" A second spot appeared on the saucer. Jessica stared at it in wonder. "Holy Shite, girl. You are going to study medicine, aren't you?"
"Well, I want to, so I can figure out what needs fixing and then figure out how. Maybe even without needing magic for the fix, too."
"Good. Apply to Johns Hopkins. Karen!"
"Got it, Mum," Karen replied. "I'll get her fast-tracked. I want her in my laboratory!"
"Good, I may come out of retirement as a consulting researcher or some such thing."
"Christie?" Amanda put in softly. "Is this what you want? Together, Jessica and Karen can scare bulldozers, but I won't let them railroad you into a decision you don't want."
"I'm good, Mom. And now I'll know what to say to Mrs. Dewinter when we meet to revise my senior course schedule. I was already trying to figure out how to do a Pre-Pre-Med program at my high school. Now, I have Karen and Dr. MacTire to advise me and support me with the counselor."
"You, young lass, may call me 'Aunt Jessie' if you please. Gods above, but you have so much to teach us!"
"ME? Teach YOU? That's not the way I see it, Docto, . . .I mean, Aunt Jess."
"We'll all be learnin' from each other, and that's that! So, tell me about this friend of yours that your Momma mentioned. The one with the brain bruise . . ."
~-~
"I'm not comfortable with this, Aunt Jess," Christie said for at least the fourth time since Jessica had laid out her plan.
"Ah, dinna fash yersel, girl! We're just gonna see if you can heal another bruise, just like ya did for my Karen just a little bit ago. I'll make sure you try in a spot where nothing bad can happen if it doesn't work. No problem at all!"
No problem, Christie grumbled. Just another bruise. Sure! Karen hadn't been best pleased when Jessica had thumped the meaty part of her thigh with the handle of a kitchen knife. Evidently, the younger MacTire bruised easily. Christie's Mother taught her to heal bruises by increasing the blood flow to the injured area, thus accelerating the natural healing. Instead, Jessica's idea was different.
First, she'd set up the individual cell inhibition wards around the live cells injured by the thump. Then, she'd had Christie look and then 'pull out' anything outside the barriers she sensed was 'wrong.' It Turned out that was mostly blood, other fluids and ruptured cells that wouldn't heal anyway. Jessica was quite satisfied with the effort, pronouncing the bruise almost healed when they'd finished. It certainly wasn't as colorful as when they'd started and Karen had said it didn't hurt as much anymore. Jessica had decided there was no time like the present to try out this new treatment methodology and had immediately dragged Christie, Amanda and Karen off to the hospital.
Mom had been SO right about the MacTire team! She felt like she was being escorted by Caterpillar D11 Bull Dozers!!
"Now, now. If this isn't as successful as I think it will be, it will still do no harm. Moreover, with your ability to see and heal within the cells, we'll eventually learn how you can heal your friend another way. But, as I said, I think this will work."
"Okay, okay. Let's go in and try, but if I don't feel the 'wrongness' or don't feel that I can do anything about the 'wrongness,' we drop back and punt, okay?"
"Now, why would you want to go poling a boat down a river?" Jessica asked, all innocence.
"MOM! Even I know you've become crazy about American Football. Christie, how many women do you know who've painted orange and black Cincinnati Bengal stripes on her GREEN John Deere tractor?!" Karen demanded, giving a slightly exaggerated shudder of distaste.
"Ah, there ya go, daughter, tellin' all my secrets again." Jessica caught sight of the nurses' station. "Is this where we check-in?" At Christie's nod, they checked on Valerie's availability. As it was Sunday, she had nothing but free time until dinner.
Christie led the women into the room. Valerie saw her and called. "McKellar! About time you got here, and where's my pizza!?!"
"The interns on the first floor confiscated it again. You have some very hungry doctors in this hospital. Mom? Cone of silence, please?"
Christie quickly made introductions and explained why they had come. Valerie nodded her understanding. "So this is kind of like a test? To see if this does any good?"
"Or any harm," Christie put in. "Dr. MacTire says it shouldn't do any harm, but we're still going to go slowly with this until we're sure. Until I'm sure."
"Well, if you can't trust the girl you're tied to by a magical mental link, who can you trust, right? Anyway, today's probably a good day to try this. I have another brain scan scheduled for tomorrow afternoon. Maybe they'll be able to tell something happened from this when they review that. So. What do we do?"
"I'll do the individual wards again, Christie. If you can handle it, I'd like you to amplify my Sight again while you decide if you can do anything. I'd really like to observe your healing her I can without reducing your effectiveness."
~-~
"Eww!" Valerie complained as she looked at the small brown mass in the white sample dish Jessica had obtained for this project. "THAT'S what was in my head? It looks like gerbil poop!"
"Well, Miss Stevens, I'm glad to say I don't know exactly what gerbil poop looks like," Jessica replied, "But that is what Christie pulled from your head out of that one tiny finger of your bruise. I think what she did will be obvious enough that the doctors will realize something has changed when they review your scan tomorrow. I expect they'll be surprised."
"GOOD surprised or BAD surprised?" Valerie asked.
"All good, I think. The tissue Christie left behind appears normal and healthy to me under her enhanced Healer Sight. That should get your doctors' attention tomorrow. We'll come back after you get the test results back and plan how to do more repairs in a manner that won't get you turned into a medical experiment. I think we could do more right now, but I don't want to overstress Christie since we don't know how much of a toll this takes on her physical and magical resources."
Valerie yawned hugely. "Well, it seems every time Christie comes here to do her magical stuff, I need a nap. I'm exhausted all of a sudden."
"We'll tell the nurses you dropped off. They'll keep an eye on you and make sure you get up for dinner."
"Okay. And next time, McKellar? Wiggle your nose, blink your brown eyes, or shake your boo-thing, but get the damned pizza up here! You're squandering BFF points, girl!"
~-~
As they walked to her Mother's car, Christie stopped and gave herself a little shake.
"Mom? Could we go to the range? Please? I really want to shoot something!"
"And aren't you a girl after me own heart, Christie McKellar!" Jessica crowed. "Yes, let's go to that range of yours! I want to meet this Gunny of yours and then kill some targets!"
Karen and Amanda just stared at each other, then gave a 'what are ya going to do' shrug and followed their two would-be-target-killers to the car.
~-~
Mind, Body and Spirit Redux, Part 26
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Part 26 - Life as a Sorceress
Christie and her Mom stood waving as Jessica's Mustang disappeared around the corner, headed for the Interstate highway and her home. Honestly, Christie was sad and glad to see the incredibly energetic and powerful woman leaving - at least for a while. It was incredible how much Aunt Jessie had helped her accomplish in just one week. At the same time, the woman was just plain exhausting. Thank god she was in her seventies because she'd have worn Christie down to a nub if she'd been in her prime!
"Let's go in and crash, daughter!" Amanda said with what sounded like a heartfelt sigh of relief. "We both need and deserve a break! Take out for dinner, your choice! Your Mother needs a drink! Meet me in the family room in ten minutes!"
Christie didn't even get a chance to reply before her Mother was off and through their house's front door. "Guess I'm not the only one Aunt Jessie has been running ragged," she giggled softly as she made her way inside.
Keeping up with the good doctor had meant several take-out dinners - mostly pizza and Tai food. Christie was in the mood for something just a bit more substantial. Moo Shu Pork and rice sounded like just the ticket, too. A couple or three appetizers would do nicely to begin replenishing the energy reserves she'd used in the past few days. Lord, she hoped she didn't make a fool of herself the next day at the dojang.
She walked into the family room to find her Mother holding a large glass of white wine. "Heavens, Christie, I am so glad I had to go to work every day this week! At least I got a short respite from our Mad Doctor. How are you holding up? Oh, and you can have a small glass of wine, too. You are definitely not leaving this house until tomorrow."
"Thanks, Mom. I'll wait until we have the Moo Shu first. I think it will go nicely with it. To answer your question? To use one of Aunt Jessie's phrases? I'm fair knackered! I want to be in the same physical shape as Aunt Jessie in my late seventies. Heck, I want to be that fit right now! I thought I WAS in shape! Showed me, didn't she?"
Amanda giggled and took a sip of her wine. "Showed us both, but I, at least, should have expected it. She's always been like that, and I don't think she's ever slowed down. In fact, I think she's more active now that she doesn't have a set routine to get in the way of her flights of fancy!"
"What amazed me the most, I think, is just how small a world I seem to live in these days. Either that or whatever fate has directed my trial and emergence has played more games with me. Did you know that Aunt Jessie already knew both Gunny and Papa Kim?"
"I only caught the edge of that about Gunny because I was signing our guns and ammunition out of the range's secure storage. What was that all about, anyway?"
"They met during the first Iraq war. Gunny's Lieutenant had taken some bullets, and Gunny carried him into Aunt Jessie's mobile hospital bellowing for a medic, a corpsman or a doctor. Or anyone, evidently. The kid was fresh from training and had gotten hit covering Gunny's retreat from an Iraqi ambush. Gunny got out without a scratch, but the Lieutenant didn't. According to Aunt Jess, the Gunny was, shall we say, rather unhappy and annoyed about that."
"I can just imagine how Jess would have said that, so you don't have to, young lady!" Amanda put in as haughtily as she could manage.
"Okay, Mom," Christie answered meekly. "ANY-way, apparently the Gunny had put a lot of effort into training this new officer and was determined not to lose him. Jess said it was touch and go at first - he'd nearly bled out before Gunny got him into the compound over his shoulder."
"But he pulled through?"
"Yep. According to Gunny, he will be promoted to Brigadier General next fall. Gunny's got an invitation to the promotion ceremony. He evidently thought very highly of the man because he couldn't stop thanking Aunt Jessie, even after all these years."
"So that's what that was all about. I wonder if Jessie did her special whammy."
"Pretty sure she did. When Gunny wasn't looking, I put my finger to the side of my nose and made it wiggle. Aunt Jessie smirked and gave a quick nod. She knew Papa Kim, too. Did I tell you that?"
"If you did, I was too tired for it to register. What's that story?"
"Well, Aunt Jess is also a karateka. They met in Korea about forty years ago when Jessie was scheduled to compete in a tournament there, and Papa was one of the organizers. I guess they each recognized the other as a person of power even back then. They were a little sparse on details, so I'm not sure a tournament was the only reason Dr. MacTire was there. Just a feeling, you know?"
"You're the pre-cog, Christie, not me. So what happened in your class when they reunited."
"Oh, that's the best part of the story, and probably why I didn't tell you all about it earlier while Aunt Jessie was here to box my ears for telling on her. Papa Kim challenged her to spar. She initially said no, but Grandfather just kept needling her! Evidently, she's 7th Dan and, well, you know she has a short fuse, right?"
"Let's just say I'd want a ten-meter match if I had to light it."
"Good one, Mom! So, she borrows my spare dobok and walks out of the ladies' dressing room wearing it but without a belt. Papa had a seventh-degree belt waiting for her. She tried to tell him she was only a sixth dan. Grandfather reminded Jessica that she had evidently been awarded the seventh when she retired from the university and moved to the US. Her only comment was, 'Well, dammit, Kim, I never tested for seventh dan!' To which Grandfather replied, 'except when you routinely kicked the ass of your 9th Dan instructor."
"I bet that had her muttering."
"All in Gaelic, too. Well, it wasn't English, anyway. So they started. Master Kim was refereeing, and the four senior black belts were scoring. They're about halfway through the bout when Jessie just goes off and throws a hissy-fit!"
"Really?! Not Aunt Jessie!"
"Yeah, really. She's just standing in the center of the mat, yelling at Grandfather.
"Goddammit, Kim! Stop taking it easy on the old woman! I can still take a f'ing punch!"
"Grandfather just stalked right up to her and went nose-to-nose with her. "Shut up and fight, YOUNG woman! I'll have you know I turn 90 in two weeks, and I wouldn't DARE take it easy on you! I'm too damn busy trying to keep my head on my shoulders and my clock from being cleaned!"
"At that point, everyone in the dojang, including Master Kim, is just about rolling on the floor laughing. Master Kim finally declared the match a no-contest and wouldn't let them continue. Then he ran like hell because they were both after him at that point. I guess they all kissed and made up later because Master Kim and Papa took her out to dinner after class."
"Now that is a show I wish I had seen," Amanda said, wiping away her own laugh tears. "And your progress helping Valerie has been just wonderful, too."
As Jessie predicted, the brain scan results had shown signs of improvement. Unexpectedly so, at least for the doctors. Poor Valerie spent most of Monday and Tuesday in and out of various hi-tech medical machines being scanned up one way and then down another. The doctors finally concluded something had improved, but they couldn't find any reasons why. Jessie and Christie had made two more of the new treatments over the last week. Jessie remained concerned about how much each treatment might be draining Christie's magical reserves and wanted to stay on top of that. Still, every test and scan indicated that the treatments were helping to heal Valerie's injury. Jessie decided she would come back two or three times a week for the foreseeable future to assist with the treatments and to further train Christie.
The doorbell rang. "Food!" Both women cheered. Christie collected their feast while Amanda went to the kitchen for napkins and plates. Both women did full justice to the delicious food, and nary a scrap nor lick remained when they'd finally decided they were satisfied.
They both went to bed early that night, and both slept soundly, although Christie was visited by one of THOSE dreams. The dream wasn't anything threatening, nor was it sufficiently vivid that she could remember any specific details yet. However, she thought it might have something to do with Valerie.
~-~
Mind, Body and Spirit Redux, Part 27
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Part 27 - Indeterminate Precognition
Amanda came down from her bedroom to find Christie waiting for her in their little breakfast nook. She'd slept in a bit since it was Saturday, and she was actually surprised her daughter hadn't left for taekwondo practice yet. Christie brought her coffee, toast, and fruit, all nicely presented. Knowing her daughter, Amanda grinned. "Okay then. Good morning to you, my lovely daughter. Thank you for fixing my breakfast. Now, what do you want, girl?"
Christie giggled. "Well, I was going to wait for you to get up anyway, so it seemed like a good idea to have your breakfast waiting."
"So, you really DON'T want anything?" Amanda asked, an eyebrow raised in query.
"Hrrmph. I didn't say THAT, now did I?" Causing both women to have a good chuckle at her mock indignation. "Okay, I was hoping you could drop by the dojang after the class finished."
"Oh? Something up at the Kims?' Amanda asked as she spread jam on a toast point.
"I still have that blasted dream I told you about. I'm pretty sure it's something to do with Valerie, but I have no clue what it's about beyond that. I plan to ask Grandfather Kim to help me with a meditation session later today to focus my precognitive talent. The dream keeps coming back every night! That bothers me because I'm not experienced enough with this thing to know what that might portend."
"I can certainly be there, dear," Amanda replied, "But you won't need my power as you did with the Cindy episode. You have far more power now than we had between us for that precognition."
"Yeah, I know. I don't need your power, Mom, but I darn sure need YOU when I do something like this. At least until we know if there are any hidden problems with using this talent. You haven't been able to find anybody to train me in this skill, so we're both flying blind except for what Papa Kim can help us with. I feel safer when you're there with me."
Amanda stared at her daughter, momentarily at a loss how to answer that. Wiping her lips with her napkin, she stood up and walked to hug her daughter. "Umm, wow. How many Moms get told by their seventeen-year-old daughter that she needs her Mother - for anything?" A few tears ran down Amanda's cheeks, and a happy sob or two choked out as she struggled for her composure. "Oh, god, baby! You need me? I'm already there! Want me to drive you? We can leave now!"
Christie hugged her Mom back and simply basked in their shared love. "Eat your breakfast, woman!" She finally ordered as sharply as she could manage as she began to lead her back to her seat. "I want you in primo condition for this little adventure! Carbs for energy are what you'll need. Eat!"
Grinning back up at her daughter, Amanda ate. "Yes, Ma'am!" She replied with her mouth - and heart - full.
~-~
Grandfather Kim was more than happy to assist. Soon after Christie's class had finished, he led the two McKellar women to his tiny office. "So, you've been experiencing another repetitive dream? Like the one you had about young Cindy's need to dance?"
"Yes, only more nebulous. I have no idea what's going on except a vague feeling it has to do with Valerie. Oh, and that it keeps coming back - like you said, Grandfather, repetitively. I didn't know you could be bored and asleep at the same time!"
The old man chuckled at that. "Well, then, let us see what you can see. We'll start with our basic meditation exercises. When you are comfortable in your safe place, you can begin to explore this vision. Amanda? Why don't you roll my desk chair over behind Christy, so you are within reach of her? If she thinks your touch will steady her search, I believe we should accommodate her. Are you ready, Jeja?"
Grandfather's use of the Korean word for 'student' signaled his readiness to act as Christie's guide. "I am ready, Sa Bum Nim." She replied softly.
"Very well, then. Let us begin with our breathing exercises . . ."
~-~
Christie and her Mother were home in the McKellar family room about two hours later. "So, what do we know?" Amanda asked as she handed her daughter a cup of her herbal tea blend.
"I'm pretty sure it's about Val. I spent the drive home thinking about it and what I believe I saw was that she's going to break up with Dan. Oh, he's the boy I fixed her up with."
"I remember," Amanda replied. "You believe that's what you saw? Why aren't you sure?"
"Because I'm inferring that from what I know I saw. The vision came down to Val looking sad - ALONE and sad, and Dan with another girl - a petite little pixie with very long black hair. I got a good look at her, but she's no one I recognize, but she and Dan appeared rather close, you know?"
"I do. I know Dan's family somewhat. His father, anyway. His company is a client of the law group I work for. I think I remember one of the law partners saying that he used to work overseas before becoming a department head at his company's local offices. It means he might be moving out of the country again. Do you have anything to support that theory?"
"Not really. My intuition likes the theory, and I'm sure something else could fit what I did see, but that's it."
"But you didn't see anything that made you think anyone was at real risk? Remember, you knew Cindy would have been diminished if she hadn't gone back to try dance again. Anything like that concerning Valerie?"
Christie thought hard about that for a few moments and then blew out a breath. "Just that she was unhappy about something."
"Darling," her Mother said with a sad smile, "Girls your and Valerie's age are often sad, and often, it's about a boy . . . or boys. So what are you going to do?"
"Hey! I was gonna ask YOU what I should do. You're the Mom. You're supposed to know all the answers!"
"Nice try, kiddo. Now, what do you think you should do?"
"I don't KNOW, darn it! I think whatever I do beforehand could cause trouble. If they break up, she might think I had something to do with it. If they don't break up, she might think I was trying to break them up and lose trust in me. I . . . I might've told her that Charlie . . .and me . . . might be attracted to her. THAT way." Christie admitted as a vivid red blush suffused her cheeks.
"So maybe the best thing you can do is nothing for now. Take this as a possible warning and be prepared to do what girlfriends do for their BFFs when they break up a relationship."
"And just what the heck is that, pray-tell? Remember who you're talking to here, Mom, and just how ephemeral my real-world girl experience is!"
"Oh, I'm sure you can figure it out. Just be ready to run if Valerie calls out to you. She might need to cry, or she might need to vent. That's two reasons Best Friends Forever have shoulders and ears."
Christie sat quietly, sipping her tea, even though she really didn't like her Mom's herbal brews. Finally, she leaned over to kiss her Mother and said, "I need to think about this. I'm gonna go up to my room for a bit, Mom. Call me when you're ready to make supper, okay?"
~-~
That night, Christie was still thoughtful as the two women prepared and ate their dinner. Over ice cream as a dessert, Christie looked up at her Mother. "Mom? You remember back over Thanksgiving when you and Gran started my sorcery training? You materialized that scalpel so you could cut yourself."
"Actually, I summoned it from my medical supplies, but to answer your question? Yes, I remember."
"Are they any limitations on that? Like distance or how much weight or volume you can summon?"
"Hmmm. I don't really know if there are any hard limits. I've summoned items from over a hundred miles away when I needed something I forgot to pack. And I usually limit myself to things I could easily pick up by hand without straining. I'm not sure that's a real limit, but I've found that a fairly reliable guideline."
"So, something like a mug of coffee or a large take-out soda wouldn't be a problem for you?"
"As long as they were already poured and I knew where they were? I could handle those easily. Why?"
"Oh, just a notion. Is it hard to learn? The spell, I mean? Could you teach it to me now that I've emerged?"
"Easy-peasy. Help me with the dishes, and I should have you up to speed on the spell before bedtime."
"Thanks, Mom. Oh, and I've set up an open line to Valerie via our link. I'm not eavesdropping, but if she has any emotional events, I should be aware."
"Like having her almost-boyfriend break up with her?"
"Yeah. Kinda like that."
~-~
Over the next few days, Christie continued to study what she could find online about fixing broken hearts and other teenage angst. She made preparations while keeping her mental ear tuned to her girlfriend. One day, Christie saw Dan looking particularly down at their Wednesday morning taekwondo class. However, when she tried to catch up with him after class, he'd already left, not bothering to change out of his dobok.
Something was happening. Christie didn't know what, but she was positive something was going down that would involve her. She was just about to call her Mother to ask for advice when Valerie's emotions exploded across their link. Her friend was crying!
Dropping everything, Christie ran to her car. As she started the engine, she put every bit of empathy she could muster into her end of the link. The message was, "Hold on, girlfriend! I'm coming!"
~-~
Christie raced into Valerie's room to find her friend staring at the door as if waiting. Little white tear trails streaked her cheeks, giving evidence that Val had been crying before, if not then. Her eyes went wide as Christie hurried in, and she pointed at her friend. "You. . .you CALLED to me! In my head! I heard you telling me to hold on and that you were coming! How. . .?"
Breathing deeply from the emotion and her mad dash up the stairs, Christie plopped down in the chair beside Val's bed. "Okay. You remember I told you that sometimes I get these crazy dreams? That sort of mean something? Or not, but I've had one I felt was about you. Over and over again, too!" Christie gave her friend chapter and verse on what she'd known and not known and what she'd decided to do for her friend.
"So," Valerie said thoughtfully, "You might have had a vision about Dan's Dad having to move his family to Tokyo to take over their office there? But you weren't sure, and you didn't want to mess my head up needlessly if you were wrong?"
"I've only had one other of these experiences, Val. I saw some flashes but got nothing solid to make me think I was right either way."
"But you saw Dan with another girl - one you don't know."
Christie winced. "Yeah, that bothered me a lot, but Dan's a really good guy, and I couldn't see how he'd do something like that. So, I've sorta been spying on him, but until today, he's just been the same old Dan."
"His dad told him they were moving this morning. He was still in his dobok when he came to see me. I was almost more upset for him than for me."
"Well, it's too bad for the pair of you. You should have had more time together. Heck, you never even got to have a date!"
Valerie smirked at that. "Date?"
"Isn't that what you hoped for?" Christie asked uncertainly.
"Oh, that, too, I guess," Valerie said with a dismissive wave of her hand and then giggled. "Actually, I was thinking of sparring with him. I really wanted to kick his ass, ya know?! So, you were preparing for the worst, eh? What was on the agenda, huh?"
"Yeah, about that. You know that Charlie and I are sort of girl-experience deprived, right? So since I had no flippin' idea what to do, I did what every teen would do in my place."
Valerie's eyes narrowed. "You either asked your Mother, or you googled it."
"Both, actually. Unfortunately, the stuff on Google was mostly about helping older girls. According to the web, they tend to get drunk on too much wine a lot. I didn't think the nurses would approve of you swinging from the chandelier - if you could find one - and Mom wouldn't buy the wine for me anyway."
"Nice try, McKeller. So what did you do, and I don't see my freaking pizza, either!"
"Well . . ." Christie held out her hands in front of her as if carrying bowls. "Alakazam!" She said, and two single-serving boxes of ice cream from their local gourmet ice cream shop appeared in her hands. "Chocolate or strawberry, Stevens?"
"Are you kidding? CHOCOLATE!! Gimme!" Her friend retorted, reaching out for her treat.
As they sat enjoying their ice cream, they chit-chatted about how things were, as Valerie put it, 'on the outside.'
"My Aunt Jessica got her daughter Karen to have some of your gerbil poop analyzed. It's just inert blood and anomalous protein residues. Not toxic or anything like that, but Aunt Jess thinks it might insulate/disrupt electrical impulses between brain cells. The Johns Hopkins University Hospital lab has never seen anything like it. Might be a good research topic for the medically inclined sorceresses to pursue after we get you all fixed up."
"Gonna give me another treatment today?" Valerie asked as she licked her spoon.
"Aunt Jessie is coming back later in the week. I want her here when I do anything like that. I did the last three treatments with her just watching, but she's a doctor, and I'm not. I want to have her watching, just in case anything goes off on us. You're just too damned important to me, Valerie. If all she does is slow me down, so I don't overdo or push you too hard too quickly? It's worth it. I want you to be happy, healthy and live a long full life. I'm not going to rush this."
The tears were back now, but Valerie was smiling, too. "Thanks, Christie. You're damned important to me, too. Just thanks."
The two girls ate in companionable silence until the last dribbles had been scraped from the take-out cups. Christie then took both containers, the spoons and the napkins and sent them to her kitchen waste can. "And voila, no evidence. Except for that smudge of chocolate on the tip of your nose."
"You!" Val laughed as she wiped her nose with a tissue. "So, anything special going on at the dojang?"
"You know that Grandfather's 90th birthday is coming up soon? Young-Soo and Master Kim have a major bash planned. Lots of big names from the Federation and from the schools are coming. Wilma and I had this idea for a special performance for him, but we've been having a little trouble refining it at the dojang. You know how Grandfather always suddenly just 'appears' out of nowhere? Makes it kinda hard to keep it all a secret, so Wilma and I are planning to go over to Madame Renee's dance studio so we can work on it in private."
"Ooo, tell me more!" Valerie enthused.
"Look, I want to make sure I can do it first, okay? It's kind of a free-form Poomsae done to music. If we get it right, I'll make sure that Wilma videos it so we can show it to you, okay?"
Valerie curled her lip. "Okay, but you know stress is bad for me, so don't keep me in the dark too long."
"Okay, I promise. Now, I have to run. It's my night to fix dinner."
"See you, McKellar. Thanks. Love you, girlfriend, but just one thing?" Christie stopped at the door and cocked an eyebrow at her friend. "I'll love you more if you zap us in some pizza next time!!"
~-~
Mind, Body and Spirit Redux, Part 28
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Continued by Paula Dillon and Tigger
Part 28 - A Gift for Grandfather
Young-Soo smiled in pleasure and not a small degree of relief. The party was on, and so far, it was going well. He and his father had long since given up any attempt or pretense of having surprise birthday parties for Grandfather Kim. The old bird was too sharp, too cagey and had too darned many birthdays to be truly surprised by a celebration. Oh sure, he'd gone along with the game when Young-Soo was young and then again for Eun Ae's formative years. However, that had been a few years in the past. Now? There was just no way to pull this birthday shindig off secretly. Too many of the world's Taekwondo luminaries wanted to attend Grandfather Kim's 90th Birthday Party.
Still, coordinating the travel and logistics for more than fifteen of the world's ranking Grandmasters AND the President of the World Taekwondo Federation, Dr. Choue Chung-won, had been challenging to say the least. Getting them all home again should be far more straightforward. He hoped. Well, that was a problem for AFTER the party. Now, it was time to relax, kick back and celebrate his grandfather, the man known throughout the United States and Korea as 'Grandfather Kim.'
"Grandson," Papa Kim asked softly from his seat at the head table, "I do not see Jeja Christie. Have you heard anything? There's nothing wrong, I hope."
Should have known the sharp-eyed old man would notice that his favorite student was not currently in the crowd. "She said she had a surprise for you, Grandfather, but she would be just a little late. She said she had some last-minute things to do to perfect her surprise."
"Oh, very well. As long as she is here soon," Grandfather replied before returning to his conversation with Grandmaster (9th Dan) Brenda Sell, who had come up to chat with him.
~-~
"Are you ready, girl?" Wilma Davis asked as she brushed an errant curl back from Christie's forehead. "Here, let me repin that. Perfect. So, Ready?"
Christie took a deep, cleansing breath. "As I'm likely to be, Wilma. This seemed like a really cute idea, but now? With all these Taekwondo high mucky-mucks out there? My God, Wilma! We'd have more star power than a Victoria's Secret Fashion Show if they were models!"
"Miss McKellar," Rene Coulter interrupted firmly. "You. Are. Ready. There. I have said so! Now, go out there, break a leg and amaze everyone. Including me, by the way. Trust me, you do NOT want to disappoint ME! Right?"
"Right," Christie answered with a giggle. "Guess I'm ready, then. Wilma? You're on! Let's do this."
~-~
Wilma walked out to the main studio and then took her place on the makeshift announcing stand, positioned off to the side of the head table. A quick mouse click and an oriental-sounding gong peel reverberated through the dojang, causing all conversation to stop, all eyes shifted to the gaily-dressed young woman. "If you would all move to your seats, we have a special surprise for Grandfather Kim. Please clear the main mat as quickly as possible. Thank you."
Clearly wondering what was going on, Grandfather looked from Wilma to the main door, expecting to see Christie enter with her surprise. Then, motion in the corner of his eye caught his attention, and he turned to the hallway to the dressing rooms and saw . . .Madame Coulter coming out into the studio?
"Masters, honored guests, fellow instructors and students, it is my honor to introduce a performance that seeks to fuse two arts as a special gift to Grandfather Kim. Oh, and one more thing, Master Young-Soo has granted a one-time dispensation to the custom of no shoes on the main dojang floor. Just in case you were concerned, Madame Renee." The older woman who had arrived at the announcing stand chuckled softly and curtsied, careful to show her own shoeless feet.
"And now, making her first of a two performance limited engagement, we present BallerJeja Christie and 'The Dance of the Koryo Plum Poomsae."
Christie stepped out of the hall shadows and dance walked to the center of the dojang's main mat. A murmur of voices passed through the assembled party-goers as they took in her costume. She was a vision in white, wearing a classic Bolshoi style ballerina outfit of leotard, tights, tutu and crown, with lace accents. And yes, she was wearing toe shoes. When she reached center-mat, Christie faced Grandfather and the Head table and assumed Ballet Position One. Almost. She held her 4th Geup Blue Belt by the ends in both hands. Quickly, she donned the belt about her waist and tied it off with a perfect square knot.
Christie finishing tying off the belt was the signal for Wilma to start the music. The familiar strains of 'The Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy' began to play throughout the dojang. Executing a formal Taekwondo bow, followed by a ballerina's grand curtsy, Christie began her fusion performance of the Koryo Poomsae and the Sugar Plum Fairy's dance.
Most of the movements and transitions were purely balletic. Christie did most of her movement en pointe and added choreographic flourishes and extensions. However, the specified movements of the Koryo Poomse were performed in the correct order and with the proper form. As an exclamation point for each Taekwondo move, the choreography had just the slightest hesitation built-in. Christie held and demonstrated each required element for her very knowledgeable audience. The music ended as Christie floated back to center-mat, facing Grandfather again. She curtsied deeply, then came back to a position of attention and bowed again formally to the assembled Masters and Grandmasters seated at the head table.
For almost painfully long moments, the dojang was absolutely silent. Then, Grandfather Kim stood, came around in front of the Head Table, and returned Christie's bow. The rest of the Head Table immediately stood and followed Grandfather's lead. A softly uttered "Charyut (attention)" brought everyone, including Christie, back to attention, at which point Grandfather began applauding, grinning widely. Applause and cheers spread rapidly through the audience as everyone was now standing. Christie gave another curtsy and then turned to dance run to the dressing room.
Not having that, Grandfather hopped down from the dais and took off in pursuit of his student. Moments later, he returned with the brightly blushing ballerina on his arm. He gestured for Madame Renee to join them, and she came over to take Papa's free arm. Back at center-mat, Grandfather presented Christie to the audience for a 'curtain call' and another curtsy, then escorted her to the Head Table. He then went on to introduce both women to the assembled dignitaries.
When she tried to leave after that, he simply wouldn't release her arm and seated her next to him at the table. "Grandfather, I need to change," she hissed in a whisper.
"No, Jeja. It is my birthday and my surprise. I am keeping my Koryo Plum Fairy for the party." Master Kim relinquished his seat so that Renee could join them. "I must say, that was delightful, and I am sure I have your ballet Sa Bum Nim to thank for much of that, too. Wilma said two performances? When and where will the next one be, Jeja. I want tickets."
Renee reached into her purse and pulled out a large envelope which she handed to the old man. "There are complimentary backstage passes in that envelope for you, your family and friends to attend my school's summer recital next week. My price for helping in this enterprise was that Christie would relent on her refusal to solo - silly thing worries that she'll take opportunities from my other girls. Anyway, she will be repeating this performance there, but with two small adjustments."
"Adjustments, Madame Renee? Really? It seemed just wonderful to me as is."
The dance mistress got a sardonic grin on her face as she replied. "Yes, but Christie will perform in a dobok and bare feet for my recital. To account for that dispensation your grandson gave her so she could wear her toe shoes in the dojang."
Christie's blush came back in full force. "Umm, actually, it's not quite my usual dobok, Grandfather. I think it's more a costume from the old Kung Fu TV show. It's very colorful, free-flowing and really silky. Actually, it looks terrific when I dance in it. Umm, it just doesn't pop and snap for anything, though."
"So you will show your dance friends elements of our martial arts even as you showed my guests aspects of your balletic art. Very appropriate, Jeja. I look forward to it. Now, have some cake and tell me how you all managed this without me knowing about it. I cannot recall when I've been quite so surprised - particularly at a birthday party.
~-~
Mind, Body and Spirit Redux, Epilogue
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Epilogue - Closing the First Circle
It was the third Saturday in August and another testing day at Kim Young-Soo's Karate Dojang. Christie and Valerie were both in attendance, although neither were among the students testing today. Christie was still a few weeks short of meeting the five months as a 4th Geup Blue Belt that the Federation required before a candidate could test for the 3rd Geup Red Stripe Belt. Grandfather had told her that if she wished, he would allow her to test due to her having more than enough total training hours to satisfy the spirit of that rule, but she'd decided to wait for the next test day later that fall. Valerie hadn't been cleared by her doctors for any contact sports yet - much to her annoyance.
Val had finally been released from the hospital in time for the Fourth of July holiday. It had taken the presence of the highly acclaimed Dame Jessica MacTire, MD Ph.D. and Fellow of the Royal Society of Medicine, to help engineer that escape. And not because she wasn't and hadn't been getting progressively better! Oh No. The local docs' issue was that THEY couldn't figure out HOW Val was getting better, and they REALLY wanted to know! They were all for keeping her in durance-vile, hooked up to every hi-tech medical contraption they could find until they DID figure it out. Naturally, they had Mr. and Mrs. Stevens convinced that was the best, safest option to assure their girl's full recovery.
Aunt Jessica had put paid to that silly notion, right enough! They could monitor her just as well as an outpatient as they were currently! The doctors couldn't offer a single fact or datum that demonstrated that staying in the hospital did anything measurably positive towards Valerie's recovery. Hurricane Jessica demolished the local medical ivory tower gang. Valerie would spend her Sundays in the hospital for tests and scans and whatever else the doctors could come up with. However, so long as her condition improved, which it had, the outpatient status would be sufficient for Val's needs. In fact, Aunt Jess figured that she was maybe three, four at the most, Christie-treatments from being completely healed.
Their next challenge would be how to get the athletically inclined teen back into some rigorous physical activity. Valerie was already going crazy due to the lack of exercise. She wasn't even allowed to go running, for heaven's sake! 'Too much shock transmitted to the brain through the spine,' some idiot doctor had opined in Mrs. Steven's hearing. Val's Mom was perfectly happy to wrap her daughter in yet more cotton-wool bundling - for her own safety, of course!
Christie had learned some new Gaelic curse words when they relayed that 'considered medical opinion' to Aunt Jessie. Too bad she had refused to translate them for the girls afterward, though. They had sounded really cool, and better yet? No one else would know what they'd said!
As a possible solution to Valerie's exercise deficit, Christie tried to convince her friend to try dance at Madame Renee's studio. At least until they could convince the local doctors AND Valerie's Mom to let her do more than that. "There's really no impact, you know," Christie had loudly told her friend where Mrs. Stevens couldn't help but overhear, "And no contact if you only dance solo. Just good stretching and strength-building activities. I'll even be there with you to make sure you don't overdo it!" Well, at least she'd tried. They'd have to keep working on Valerie's Mom in the meantime.
They were currently waiting for today's committee of black belts to finish their deliberations on who to advance to their next rank or not. None of Christie's students were testing this time either, and only a couple of the people she usually trained with had tried. Christie's main reason for being here today was to watch Donnie Colt's 2nd Dan Black Belt test. Charlie and Donnie had taken every belt test together from 4th Geup Blue Belt to Red Belt in Charlie's timeline. They'd always been a team - working, learning and testing together. Advancing together, too.
They would have tested for 1st Dan together, too, if Charlie's transformation to Christie hadn't happened. In this timeline, Donnie had earned his 1st Dan black belt that day, and so far as Christie had been able to tell earlier today, he'd passed this test as well. She liked to think that Charlie would have been testing for his 2nd Dan today along with Donnie and that he would have been advanced, too.
Waiting until the fall for her next test wasn't that big a deal for her anymore. With the Federation's increased emphasis on their time in rank requirements, she wasn't planning on earning her black belt before she left for college anyway. What with her ballet, school work and sorcery training, there simply wouldn't be enough time to do it all AND pack in the hours in the dojang required to meet the intent of the rules for advancement. Besides, there wasn't any point in calling attention to herself or the school. Christie would be ready for her 1st Dan test sometime during her first semester of college. She would just have to find a good dojang wherever she attended college. Probably in Baltimore, Maryland, she mused, if the MacTire women got their way. They probably would, too. Or else, Aunt Jess style.
It had taken more effort than she'd expected, but she'd finally managed to convince Mrs. Dewinter to shift her senior-year course selections over to those recommended by her Aunt Jess. Mrs. Dewinter was close friends with and thought very highly of the school's Government, World History and Economics teachers. Their comments about Christie's performance in their classes taken from their final grade reports had been sadly accurate. They had included comments about 'lacks motivation,' 'doesn't apply herself,' and 'only does what is required.'
Thanks to her solid 4.0 grades in all her other courses and her Mom's and Aunt Jessica's personal intercession with the woman? Christie had finally gotten the advanced, science-heavy course load she'd sought, but there'd been a price. She would have Mrs. Dewinter breathing down her neck for at least the first grading period until Christie proved to the woman she could hack the load. Christie sighed mentally. She probably should have listened to her Mom about working harder on those stupid courses for those boring teachers. Oh, well. Life-long learning, as the teachers like to say.
Ballet was going very well, thanks mainly to the new and improved Renee Coulter. Christie loved being the Assistant Dance Mistress because she really loved working with the little ones. Renee loved it because she could see her students working harder and performing better under her new enlightened teaching style. Christie still helped with that by watching out for any sign of regression on Renee's part. Christie also helped with the soloists. Lisa had made particularly great strides in the past year.
In fact, both Lisa and Cindy would be going to Philadelphia before school started for preliminary auditions with Ballet Company there for appointments to their associated ballet school. Cindy might even have the opportunity to audition for the role of Clara in the Company's annual holiday performance of The Nutcracker. Both girls would have a foot in the door with the Company and other organizations as dancers to watch! They'd been noticed, and so long as they kept working and improving, other opportunities would open up for them.
And she was dating Val - almost. Maybe? Well, they'd been doing a lot of stuff together since Aunt Jess had sprung her friend from the hospital. Not just girl pal things either. They'd gone to dinner and a movie, gotten dressed up and gone to Philadelphia to see the ballet and even caught a baseball game together. Best of all, while they were there? Valerie had reached over, taken and then held Christie's hand! Maybe Valerie did do girls? Christie was really looking forward to what came next between them. BFF or lover, either or both would be fine with her as long as they stayed friends!
Which left the Sorcery aspect of her life, Christie thought. Her Mother and Grandmother were working Christie hard on the techniques and applications of general sorcery. Jessica and Karen were making several visits a month to help Christie refine her healing abilities. The only aspect of her sorcerous gift that she wasn't really all that gung-ho about was the precognitive thing. If she were honest with herself, that talent kind of scared her. Okay, maybe it scared her quite a lot.
Perhaps the whole 'Fate of Cassandra' theme from Homer's Iliad made her want to avoid using that ability. That whole 'seeing the future' deal really seemed like a double-edged sword. What if she started looking, found something but misinterpreted the vision, so she did the wrong thing? Or worse, suppose she had been right, but something bad happened anyway, and someone found out she'd known in advance and 'hadn't done anything?' Sure, the idea of being able to predict a disaster was nice in theory, but in practice? She wasn't so sure about that. The darn visions weren't like watching the 'News at 11:00'; they required interpretation! And they were darned nebulous, too.
So far, the recurring dreams had alerted her to employ that talent. Those had turned out okay, so, for now? At least until they found someone who could train her in using this 'gift'? Christie would let her dreams and fate be her bell ringer. No dreams, no peaking. That was her plan, and she would, by gosh, stick to it!
The door to the testers' conference room opened. Grandfather Kim marched out, leading the assembled black belts back into the dojang's main studio. Young-Soo went to the podium while Grandfather and Master Kim went to stand by the mat with the other black belts arrayed behind them. Master Kim had a bag hoisted over his shoulder that all the students knew contained the belts that he and Grandfather would shortly award to the successful candidates.
From junior rank to senior rank, the tested students who'd passed were called forward by Young-Soo to have their new belts wrapped about them and tied by the two Grand Masters.
Until, at last, only one student remained. All the juniors had passed their tests and been advanced. "Masters, instructors, students and guests. Your attention, please," Young-Soo said over the announcing system. "It is with great personal and professional pride that I announce that Donnie Colt is hereby invested with the rank of 2nd Dan Black Belt in the art of Taekwondo. Front and Center, Donnie Colt!"
Valerie and Christie leaped to their feet and began applauding wildly, as did the rest of the audience. Charlie's friend Donnie had come a very long way. As had she, Christie thought happily, as had she. She was proud of them both.