“My head.”
“Exactly. You're thinking about what he might hit. Not where you need to be.”
Ben looked at her.
“So what should I do?”
“Stop thinking of movement as escape.”
She placed one hand on the edge of the bench.
“Movement is positioning. You're not running away from him. You're choosing where the next exchange happens.”
Ben nodded slowly.
“Okay.”
“Show me what your feet were doing.”
He carefully demonstrated from his seated position.
Althea watched.
Then she moved her own feet.
“Your front foot should lead the turn. Your rear foot follows. Don't let them cross.”
Ben tried again.
“Better.”
He looked up.
“You make it look easy.”
“That's because I'm not fighting anyone.”
Ben laughed despite the pain.
Althea smiled.
“Once you're cleared to train, we'll work on it.”
Elena looked over.
“You don't have to do that.”
“I know.”
Elena studied her.
Then she nodded.
“Thank you.”
Two days later, Ben returned to the gym wearing a light brace.
The doctor had confirmed that he had suffered a mild sprain. He was allowed to do upper-body conditioning and controlled footwork, but no sparring until the swelling disappeared.
Marcus was working pads with Elena when Ben approached.
“Coach?”
Elena lowered the pads.
“What do you need?”
“Can I work on footwork?”
“Not with a partner. Keep it light.”
Ben nodded.
He moved toward the open floor.
Althea was replacing paper towels near the sinks.
She watched him for a moment.
“Ben.”
He turned.
“Yes?”
“Want to try something?”
He looked toward Elena.
She nodded.
“Keep it gentle.”
Althea walked to the edge of the mat.
She did not put on gloves.
She simply stood in front of him.
“Show me how you usually move.”
Ben began to step backward.
Althea followed.
He retreated again.
She followed again.
After three steps, he reached the wall.
“Now what?” she asked.
Ben looked behind him.
“I'm stuck.”
“Why?”
“Because I ran out of room.”
Althea nodded.
“Again.”
They reset.
This time she advanced more slowly.
Ben tried to pivot.
His feet crossed.
Althea stopped.
“Look down.”
He did.
“See it?”
“Yes.”
“Your feet are arguing with each other.”
Ben laughed.
She pointed to a line in the mat.
“Pretend this is the center of the ring. You want to move around it, not surrender it.”
She demonstrated a small pivot.
“Lead foot first. Rear foot follows. Keep enough space between them that you can change direction.”
Ben copied her.
The first attempt was awkward.
The second was better.
The third was almost clean.
Althea nodded.
“That's it.”
Ben smiled.
“Again?”
“Again.”
They repeated the movement.
From the ring, Marcus watched.
He had been working with Elena for nearly twenty minutes, but his attention had shifted.
Althea was not doing anything dramatic.
She wasn't demonstrating flashy combinations or throwing punches.
She was barely moving.
Yet Ben's balance improved with every repetition.
Marcus lowered his gloves.
“What is she teaching him?”
Elena looked over.
“Distance.”
“He needs to learn to fight, not dance.”
Elena turned toward him.
“Distance is part of fighting.”
“That's basic.”
“Then why is he still getting trapped against the ropes?”
Marcus did not answer.
He looked toward Althea again.
She had moved a few feet away from Ben.
“Come forward,” she told him.
Ben stepped toward her.
She shifted slightly to her left.
He turned to follow.
She moved again.
He adjusted his feet.
For the first time, Ben was not retreating in a straight line.
He was controlling his position.
Marcus frowned.
Elena raised her pads.
“Ready?”
He lifted his gloves.
But he kept watching.
That evening, Althea finished her shift at ten forty.
She had cleaned the locker rooms, emptied the waste bins, disinfected the training surfaces, and restocked the first-aid supplies.
When she entered the equipment room, she found Marcus sitting on a bench.
His gloves rested beside him.
“Long day?” she asked.
He looked up.
“Something like that.”
She checked the inventory sheet.
“Are you waiting for someone?”
“No.”
“Then you're in the way of the storage cabinet.”
Marcus moved his legs.
She opened the cabinet and began checking the cleaning supplies.
After a moment, he spoke.
“Can I ask you something?”
“That's becoming a habit.”
“Why do you help Ben?”
Althea continued counting bottles.
“Because he needs help.”
“That's all?”
“Is there another reason?”
Marcus leaned forward.
“You don't get paid to coach him.”
“No.”
“Then why do it?”
She closed the cabinet.
“Because someone once helped me.”
“Who?”
“My first coach.”
“What did he do?”
“He saw something in me before I knew what I was capable of.”
Marcus looked at the floor.
“Did he make you a champion?”
Althea shook her head.
“No. He taught me how to work. The rest was mine.”
Marcus considered that.
“Ben isn't exactly talented.”
Althea turned toward him.
“Neither was I.”
He looked surprised.
“You won twenty-seven fights.”
“After years of losing in the gym.”
“That's different.”
“How?”
“You were a professional athlete.”