Never again

[Emily Littleton] She did not belong in Cabrini-Green, but Emily knew her way around certain streets very well. She knew where to find the soup kitchen, the hours it was open, and where its patrons filtered off to once the doors had shut. She knew how to find the rec center, where Charlie had told her to seek him out.

And so it is middling in the afternoon when she finds her way to the center. And it is not long after when she begins asking around for Charlie, whose last name she does not know or has forgotten. Emily is polite, with a warm smile and a curiously foreign accent. She is friendly, and the smile touches her dark blue-grey eyes in warm and comfortable ways.

Moreso than even that, there is a quiet sense of something right about her. The twinned but faint feelings of Home and a nascent Reverence. They are faint enough to get lost in the wash of Otherness about the Orphan, but one day may become a familiar signature.

So it is the middle of the afternoon, and so she is looking for him in the nooks and crannies and corners of the place.

[Charlie McGee] Most of the kids glance up when she says Charlie's name and everyone on staff seems to know him, a few smiling at the mention as they gave her directions. Its finally one of the Youth Leaders that mentions Charlie was asked to work on some pipes in the basement...he points towards the stairwell, telling her to watch the first stairwell as the light didn't work there but the banister would turn and there would be light in the basement itself.

Charlie was indeed working in the basement. Currently twisted upside down, his legs were hooked to two pipes to brace himself...almost in a vertical split as he arched down to grab a wrench and then gritting his teeth as he bent his mid section back up. Some of his brethern would preach to him about how he should be working on form...focusing his body...kata and routine of exercises.

He would then give them a wrench and tell them to change the valve of a pipe that you could only get to in angles like the one he was doing if you lacked a ladder or room to really maneuver your wrist if you were twisting from that position.

[Emily Littleton] She made her way to the basement, watching her footing as she went, and feeling out the steps in the dark before descending. The banister turned, and Emily turned, and thusly she arrived in the basement to find him twisted about in the acrobatics of minding the pipes.

Emily made a little noise as she entered the room. She didn't want to startle him, especially with as precarious as his positions seemed to be.

"Need a hand?" she asked, in a clear enough and enough confidence to imply that she might just be more help than hassel. Emily studied the angle he was trying to reach, and quickly evaluated whether her slighter form would be any advantage.

[Charlie McGee] Charlie heard the noise and suddenly he made flapping motions, arms spin wheeling as if he was about to fall...before he tumbled into a flip, landing firmly on his feet with a grin...seeming to try and get a rise out of her.

"Yo, what's up? And nah..almost done with this...just gotten to tighten it and then check the water flow. The valve is shut off at the moment but I want to get it going before the kids come in for their basketball game and start water fiending like mad."

[Emily Littleton] "Alright then," she said, cool and level despite the momentary concern that had flickered across her features when he pinwheeled and fell. "If you ever do need a hand, though, give me a ring."

Emily looked like she'd probably come straight from campus. She wore a pair of jeans, and a light sweater under her winter jacket. She wasn't carrying her messenger bag, so that was likely in her car. She watched him for a moment, and her expression and thoughts were inscrutable. All the while she seemed pleasant, and friendly enough. Just guarded.

"How've you been?" she asked, conversationally. As if she hadn't sought him out in the less favorable section of the city. As if she didn't want anything more than a friendly chat.

[Charlie McGee] "Busy busy busy...way it goes. I'm the resident hand-" He cut off for a moment, putting a wrench between his teeth as he jumped up, hands grabbing the pipes..rotating for a moment before he got his legs locked through the gaps of the pipe and flexed his knees around it. "-...resident handyman here. So, I fix stuff until its so broken we need to pay cash money for it. Pipes...broken soda machine...basketball nets. That's my job. And occasionally out on the floor to have fun with the kids here."

He grinned some, fingers reaching to the wrench. A white bandanna was tied around his head, almost similar to a gang member might wear...his hat lying near the make-shift toolbox as he locked his arm around another pipe then slide his wrench hand to the section he needed to tighten.

"...yourself?"

[Emily Littleton] "School, work, studying, more work," she said, leaning into the doorjamb as she watched him work on the pipes. The predominant note to her accent was British, but it was softened by something more familiar of late. "I did spend the weekend in San Francisco, but that was for a job, too."

Emily shrugged a bit and tucked her hands into her pockets. She managed to look entirely unassuming, canted casually against the frame of the door.

"I think it's great what you do here, and for the kids. It makes me really miss the kitchen."

[Charlie McGee] "...I've been doing it for a few years now. Give back to communities what has been taken from them..."

Charlie flexed, grunting for a moment before he let the wrench clatter down...legs dislodging and then letting go to land in a crouch this time as he looked up at her with a smile.

"If I was a Christian, I would say it was my attempt at repentance."

[Emily Littleton] "For what are you penitent?" she asks, and the words roll off her tongue like familiar syllables. Compassion overlayed the curiosity in her expression, but the edge of her mouth lifted in a somewhat wry expression.

Emily watched him for a moment, then dipped her head and let her gaze fall away toward the floor. Demurely. Politely. She had, after all, asked him a rather personal question.

[Charlie McGee] "I use to deal."

Charlie said, his voice taking that thoughtful tone like it had the last time they talked. He walked over, lifting his Chicago Bulls cap off the ground...he checked for any grime on it before fitting it firmly over the bandanna at an angle, very thuggin-esque.

"But, I don't really see this as repentance. I mean..its more like re-balancing myself. But my sifu once said....the rabbit does not apologize for eating the grass and the scorpion for its stinger. You are what you are and ultimately the choices you make reflect the person inside. If you deal drugs for a living, that's ultimately on you...if you take drugs, that's on you. We are free to make our choices. It just needs to reflect if inwardly, you believe to be a righteous choice."

[Emily Littleton] She pushed off of the doorframe with her shoulder and nodded a little. Emily's expression became neutral. She wasn't aghast at what he'd said, or terribly judgmental. It simply was. And whatever it was, it was between Charlie and God. Emily technically shouldn't have asked (but she'd been curious).

"But you got out?" she asked. It was more of a statement, really. "And now you fix things for the rec center, and look out for the kids?" A pause. "You're probably more help to them as an example than a handyman," she commented. "Not very many people get out of that sort of lifestyle."

[Charlie McGee] "I realized it wasn't why I was in this lifestyle to begin with...I had never been dealing to make money. I had never been involved with the streets to be 'thuggin' or having some cheddar. Its because that's where I found other kids like me that liked to b-boy. I just got caught up in the surge when gangsta rap became the big thing. I've learned since then...realized how much influence peers can have on you."

He shut the toolbox, taking a seat on it as he looked to her.

"So...what brings you this way?"

[Emily Littleton] Most of the slang was lost on Emily. She'd not lived stateside to pick up the linguistic twists and turns of the streets. Her expression got a little twitchy when he mixed cheese types into his oration, but she schooled it back quickly. Nevertheless, much of that was greek to her. (Greek might have been more intelligible, actually.)

"I wanted to follow up on our conversation at the Cloud Gate," she said, shrugging a bit and looking just past him rather than directly at him. It would be harder to miss, this time, that she was saying something without saying it. "That is, if the offer still stands."

[Charlie McGee] Charlie paused and then looked at her.

"Ahhhh. Well...I can teach...if that's what you're coming for."

He glanced at her a bit, looking her over but it wasn't with the eye of a guy looking for a hook up....before he walked over.

"...take a stance for me, if you would."

[Emily Littleton] "It is, but..." Emily took a step back as he approached her. She did not naturally sink into a stance, but her balance was decent and she moved with purpose.

"Wait," she said, as her hands came out of her pockets and she held them out in front of her. Once he stopped moving towards her, Emily exhaled the little breath she was holding. "I... You should know something first. It might change your mind."

Emily's body had gone from casually comfortable to taut, tense, in the space of his few footfalls. She watched him carefully, keenly aware of the space between them. She knew, likely down to the inch, how close he'd come to her and it made her... anxious.

[Charlie McGee] Charlie paused and then slid his hands back into his pocket and just stared, giving an up nod for her to continue...obviously waiting on what she had to say. His expression was neutral, as if humoring her.

[Emily Littleton] "Okay," she said, once he'd stopped. Her hands fell back to her sides, and she nodded a bit. As if she approved of this. Whatever this was. Emily's expression was troubled, but calming. The tension in her shoulders was releasing. And she looked to him with less (fear) wariness.

"At the Cloud Gate," she began, unsure of how to really address this without deception or side-stepping it. She was unpracticed at it, and it showed. There was no polish to the sentences she strung together. "I mentioned that, well, there are some people who would have benefitted from knowing how to take care of themselves at some point in the past?"

Yes, he probably remembered. Emily brought her hands together and fidgetted a bit, then brought them back to her sides. Still. She couldn't quite stand still.

"I'm..." A little breath. "I'm one of those people. I... I have, issues, with personal space, and I want to stop feeling." She frowned. "Feeling helpless." God, she hated to say that word aloud, and it showed. "But I can't imagine it would be fair to ask you to teach me and not tell you," another little pause, "That I was abducted as a teen, and violently mistreated. And I never want to let it happen again."

There it was. Emily couldn't look at him. She shoved her hands into her pockets and stared at one of the many pipes he'd been fixing. She was nowhere near as comfortable with her past as he seemed with his. After a moment, Emily reached up and pressed the palm of one hand against the back of her neck.

[Charlie McGee] "..."

Charlie said nothing before he finally nodded and then slid his hands out.

"Okay...with your persmission...I want you to take a stance and let me do some handiwork...I need to check your shape out before I can decide on how to go about this..."

[Emily Littleton] Okay. Emily bared her darkest secret, and Charlie said Okay and let it lie. There was a little pause, in which she half-expected him to come back to her with questions or need to know details she didn't want to disclose. But then the moment passed without further ado, and Emily shrugged out of her coat so she could take up the stance that he requested.

It was immediately obvious that she had no training, but that Emily was fairly well aware of her physical form. She was passibly athletic, even if martial arts had not previously been her sport of choice.

[Charlie McGee] Charlie moved close...before he rested his calloused fingers on her arms. It was almost like he was about to take a dance pose to do the tango with her. But then the digits moved down, the tips touching along muscles...along the limb of her left and right arm...slowly bending and then guiding it. These fingers were used to handiwork...they were use to hand chalk to give spin and less friction. There was a slight...nervousness or hesitation in touching her. It was hard to tell if it was for her sake..or his own.

He paused for a moment and then looked at her legs...his hands only touched her bottom of the limbs rather then moving up to her thighs...at least not being that indiscreet. He squeezed her calve...around her ankle before he stood some.

"Good...good...we can definitely work with this. The style I know doesn't incorporate a lot of body strength. Its more about flexibility and motion. Rhythm rather then power."

[Emily Littleton] She could handle this. For all that Emily had professed a problem with personal space, she could handle having Charlie in hers this way, announced and intentful. Respectful. At first she struggled to let him guide her limbs, but that resistence faded quickly and Emily found herself following innately.

Emily showed very little variance between her left and right sides. Most people had a clear dominance for certain tasks and it showed in how the lineaments and muscles had arranged themselves over the years. It was possible that she had a hobby or interest that had encouraged her to cross-train these strengths and weaknesses.

She listened when he spoke, and nodded her undestanding, but Emily didn't say much at first. If it seemed like he needed her to reply, somehow, she said softly, "Okay." It was a solid sound, for all its quietness. She was not alarmed, or uneasy. Well, beyond the uneasiness she normally had with anyone standing so close to her.

[Charlie McGee] "Now...before we can begin with the body though....we have to start here."

Charlie tapped his forehead, right in the center.

"I'm going to give you a mental exercise...something simple. For the next few days...I want you to imagine a lake. Then, I want you to imagine how to make that water move...how it moves...but...you cannot imagine anything other the nature itself making it move...and it cannot be the wind..it cannot be outside the lake."

Charlie smiled, this mental exercise something he had created on his own.

[Emily Littleton] Her expression shifted, thoughtful, for a moment. And Emily was clearly trying to outthink the puzzle. If he restricted the wind from the solution set, Charlie likely wasn't looking for anything like convection due to heat differentials. Emily chewed on the inside corner of her lower lip.

"Imagine why it might move, or how it moves when it does move?" she asked, pulling herself away from thinking through the details of the question and trying to look at the more circumspect, broader concepts. "There are many reasons, thermals, convection, that could make the water move in a still lake."

[Charlie McGee] Charlie smiled some.

"Less about scientific logic on this one. Think on it...when you think you have an idea...or you get stuck...come back to me."

It would seem that she would not graduate immediately into Jackie Chan and Jet Li status.

[Emily Littleton] The journey was every bit as important as the end goal. Emily didn't need to graduate immediately, but she did not like being at a loss for answers. Less science, he'd said, which ruled out most of her areas of expertise. It left her with the same floundering and confused feeling that Waking Up had, in the first place.

"Oh.... kay....," she said slowly, skeptically drawing out those two syllables until they sounded like completely distinct words. "I will work on this."

[Charlie McGee] "Good. Guess that's it for today then."

Charlie grinned good-naturedly...knowing that it was a difficult process. But it was one he had gone through during his trials as an Akashic...if she managed to figure it out...then maybe...just maybe he could teach her. Or further...she would find herself amongst the Record.

[Emily Littleton] "Alright then," she said, taking the statement for the cue it seemed to be. Emily shrugged back into her coat and seemed ready to go. But she lingered for a moment longer, regarded with him a mixture of gratitude and respect. That, like so many other of her fleeting emotions, was quickly hidden again.

"Charlie?" she asked, pausing to make sure she had his attention before she continued.

[Charlie McGee] Charlie glanced over at her as he was bent near the toolbox.

"Yeah?"

He arched a pierced eyebrow, waiting to see what she was going to say.

[Emily Littleton] "Thank you."

The words were resonant. Meaningful. Emily's eyes caught his own just long enough to lend the words their proper weight. And then she smiled, and it was a bright and warm thing again, and started to turn away.

If he didn't stop her, Emily would be finding her way out of the basement, back up to wherever it was she'd parked her car. But if he said something more, or asked her a question, she would linger a little longer.

[Charlie McGee] Charlie just bowed his head and smiled before returning to putting the tools away. There were no parting words or sagely advice to follow her. Just the lesson and the knowing that she would have to figure it out before they got further.