"I’m game."

* * *

I slammed my Jeep’s door closed, tugging the strap of my bag higher onto my shoulder. I had just left the Clinic, and was now headed into the dojang that I had belonged to for nearly a decade. Sabum Nim Kyung had decided to retire, and so I had left. This dojang was much closer to my house, anyway. It would have been crazy to drive two towns over for practice every Saturday. And, it was only about fifteen minutes away from Mayo.

It was Wednesday night, and my Sabum Nim now had asked me to take over his class as he was at a championship. I taught the Saturday morning class, but figured tonight would be fun. I needed a break in my week. We had another serious case checked into the hospital yesterday afternoon. A young woman, reminding me a lot of Hannah Blackwell. Unfortunately, for some reason, we were finding that women who spent their younger years in a climate like ours, cold and harsh, were more susceptible to MS. It was a startling find, and certainly didn’t hold much hope for our people here.

Hannah Blackwell was twenty-seven, younger than me, and got worse day by day. She had been diagnosed at age twenty-two, and had done well for about three to four years, then it had hit like an explosion. She could no longer walk now, and most days some part of her body was paralyzed all together.

Since I had begun to visit her on a regular basis, I was becoming more aware of what an actual patient went through, and not just a textbook or test tube. It was making my work that much more important to me, seeing what effect it had on real people who suffered daily.

I unlocked the door to the building, flipping on lights as I went. I always tried to get to class anywhere from an hour to a half hour before the students arrived.

Dropping my bag on the desk in the office, I dug out my dobok and ti, headed to the bathroom to change, though at first I just wore the pants and a tank. I preferred to do my warm-ups as comfortable as possible. Back in the office, I closed my eyes, raising my arms up above my head, breathing in deep, feeling my body come to order, my focus shining in on itself as I closed the outside world out.

Slowly I made my way to my knees, raising my face to the ceiling, taking slow, healthy deep breaths, filling my lungs, then slowly emptying them. Over and over I did this, finally getting deeper into the meditation as I sat down fully. I could feel every muscle in my body ready itself, every sense becoming sharper and sharper until they could cut like a knife.

I had kept up with my yoga all these years, too. Sometimes that was the only thing that would relax me after an eighteen hour day in the lab, bent over a microscope or slides all day. In fact, I still had more work to do once I got home. I had a laptop that was connected to our computers at work, and helped me keep an eye on levels and results.

I blew out one last breath, my eyes slowly opening. It was always so strange after I finished; I was always so disoriented and almost confused. I looked around, seeing the office furniture, the ancient computer that Sabum Nim Sasung used to keep track of his students and payment, and of course, a giant poster of our fearless leader when we was younger, looking remarkably like Bruce Lee.

With one final breath, I stood, and headed out to the main part of the studio. Now for my warm-up. I headed to the far wall where a bar was mounted, and began to stretch. I smiled as I remembered one time I had come to class without stretching, just coming from an early morning meeting at work, and didn’t have time. I figured I’d be fine. What was one time?

I couldn’t walk for a week.

Did I ever learn a valuable lesson. Stretching my legs as far as they could go. Slowly going down into the splits, my hands resting neatly on my thighs, I bounced a couple times, then brought myself back up, startled by the feel of fingers on my shoulder.

My immediate response and instinct was to swing. I did, and to my surprise, my strike was stopped and countered. I turned, even more surprised to see Haley standing there, a smug look on her face. My eyes traveled down to see she wore a dobok, a black belt holding it together.

"Nice block."

"Thanks. Nice try." I smiled.

"When are you going to learn not to sneak up on a warrior?" She cocked her head to the side.

"Twelve years?"

"What are you doing here?" I continued to stretch, and Haley began to join me.

"I’m here for class. I come every Wednesday night. What are you doing here?"

"I’m playing teacher tonight."

"Ah, so you’re who Sabum Nim got, huh?" I nodded. "I thought you went to a dojang in Winston?"

"I did, for many years. Sabum Nim retired, and I was here in Rochester, so this seemed the practical thing to do. I notice you’ve been at this for some time." I had seen the three gold bars on her ti. She nodded, smiling proudly.

"Yup. Someone got me hooked when I was still in high school." I grinned.

"Imagine that."

"When I found out there was a dojang not far from campus in L.A., I started up." I stopped stretching, and turned to her, touched.

"That’s wonderful, Haley. I’m so glad you stuck with it. And just maybe someday you’ll be as good as I am." She looked at me, incredulous. I grinned at her, evil and sly.

"You want a piece of me, Littman?"

"You’re on, Corregan."

Let the sparring begin!

We moved out to the middle of the mats, both keeping a wary eye on the other, waiting for her to make the next move. I sensed the punch coming before I saw it, and turned, effectively blocking with my leg, then trying to knock her down. She saw it coming, and jumped back. We circled each other, neither daring to take their eyes off for even a second. Solid blow to my side, which I reimbursed with a flip. Haley didn’t stay on the mat for long. She jumped up and away.

She may have had height on me, but I was quick, and had twenty-three years of experience. Though I had to admit, she had been taught well, and her concentration and focus was wonderful. She must be a true joy to have in class.

Somewhere in the back of my mind I heard the door to the building open as the students began to trickle in, murmurs of excitement as they watched their Sabum Nim, and Sunbae Nim fight. Soon I realized we had a complete circle around us. This, of course, egged us on even more.

We fought hard, both of us sweaty and charged with energy and waiting for the kill.

Finally I saw my opportunity, and knowing we had to bring this to an end, I swept Haley off her feet, pinning her with my elbow to her sternum. The class around us cheered, and I smiled down at her. She smiled back.

"Nice," she said.

"Thanks." Her dark bangs were stuck to her forehead, and I could feel my entire head crawling with little beads of sweat. I stood, helping Haley to her feet. "Let’s hear it for Sunbae Nim, Haley." I lifted her arm, turning her in a circle as she was cheered on. I looked at her, she was smiling at me.

"I want a rematch, Littman."

"You got it."

* * *

I made my way to room 301 for the second time this week. When I had been in Monday, Hannah Blackwell had looked great. She’d been up and around, her color had looked good, and she had been very talkative.

Hannah had agreed to be a test subject for me, trying our latest theories, and lots of them had worked nicely thus far, though it was pretty soon to really gauge.

"Good afternoon, Dr. Littman." Nurse Wilson said from the nurse’s station. I smiled.

"How are you today?" I stopped for a moment, my arm resting along the high counter top. The woman with the smoothest dark skin I had ever seen, nodded her head.

"Can’t really complain. Well, I could, but what good would that do?" We both chuckled.

"How’s Hannah doing today?" she shook her head, clicking her tongue.

"Not well, doctor. You’d best get in there."

With a heavy sigh, and even heavier heart, I headed to her room. Hannah lay in her bed, her wheelchair by the bed, and a woman sitting next to the sleeping younger woman. Her head was bent over, and I could hear the soft sobs.

About to turn around, not wanting to interrupt or intrude upon such a personal moment, I headed for the door.

"Excuse me?" I stopped, slowly turning to face the woman, her eyes swollen and red, black streaks from make-up watery from tears running down her cheeks. She quickly grabbed a tissue, and began to wipe her face.

‘Yes, ma’am?"

"Are you a doctor here?"

"Well, I’m not Hannah’s doctor. I’m Dr. Littman." The woman smiled, taking a step closer to me.

"Hannah’s talked about you. I’m Joan, Hannah’s mother."

"It’s nice to meet you, Joan. How is she doing today?"

"Not good." She turned and looked down at her daughter. I could see the anguish in her face, and the desperation in her eyes as she turned back to me. "Is there anything to be done, Dr. Littman? Haven’t you guys come up with something in your lab? Anything?"

"Well, unfortunately science can only work so fast, and humans work even slower. Someday I believe there will be a cure for this, but right now isn’t that day. Hannah has done well, though."

"That’s what her doctor’s say. She’s my only baby, so young." She ran a trembling hand over her daughter’s face, then sat down again.

"I’m so sorry," was all I could say, feeling my own throat tighten for how this woman must feel. "I have to get going. I only came by to say hello."

"Thank you, Dr. Littman. I know that your visits have meant a lot to Hannah." I looked at her, stunned. I had no idea.