Saint And Sinners (54 page)

Saint nodded, rather impressed by Lawrence’s insight.

“Xenia, is supposed to be at your right hand side.”

“She is.”

“Not really, not in the sense that I’m referring to, but she is awakening to it. You
are to rule New York, and what powerful rulers can you name that didn’t have a commanding
Queen by their side?” Lawrence tilted his head ever so slightly to the side and grinned.
“Only a handful, and we know as Angel Children, we have to have our soulmate to meet
our optimal potential. Behind every good man is—”

“…A good woman.”

Saint hung his head.

“That’s where the jealousy is stemming from. Not because she is beginning to awaken
to this new understanding, but because it means you’d be
forced
to protect her more. As Xenia steps out of her comfort zone, she’ll be in more danger.
The fact alone that she is your wife makes her a target. That little incident at the
party was just practice, mere child’s play. As soon as a woman such as she, a woman
who toted black marriages, black love all over the airwaves goes in front of a microphone
and encourages Rainbeau love—miraculous and, at times, challenging things will take
place. She is the hearth to your fire, Saint. She is the missing component. There
will be forces that will try to stop that now, interfere in your plans.

“You must stay alert and vigilant. She will help save people from
themselves
. Because of you,” he said, pointing to Saint with a stern look on his face, “she
is going to follow your lead and stand by your side. She is going to catch the ones
you missed. She isn’t just your wife; she is also your interpreter for the few who
do not understand your language, so to speak. She is an attractive, intelligent sweet
and kind woman…they
will
come for her. People gravitate towards your wife, just as they do to you, Saint.”

And Lawrence was right.

Everywhere they went, more times than not, people congregated around Xenia, even those
who had no idea who she was. She had a special presence about her, just like Hassani.
She made individuals want to come close and take a listen. That was why at risk youth
paid so much attention to her, listened to her life story and how she’d changed her
life around. Xenia had a heart made of gold, and she stood by her word and convictions.
The only time she deviated was when she’d fallen in love with him…and that changed
her life forever.

“How do…how do I stop from being so jealous, Lawrence? I think about Xenia all the
time now, wondering what she’s doing. I even wanted to question her the other night
when she got home later than she said she would. I don’t like this.” He ran his hands
through his hair. “I mean, I’ve always been kinda this way with her, but not to this
degree. I hate this. It will become debilitating if I can’t control it.”

“There is no way to stop it. It is your internal radar to let you know when she may
be in trouble. Saint, you’re just a bit out of whack right now is all. The same radar
that sparks jealousy also sparks anger. It won’t be just men but also women talking
down to her, making her feel lousy when all she wishes to do is assist them. The very
people your wife will reach out to try and help will stab her in the back. Now that
she is here, in your birthplace, the energy around her is pulling at her.”

He moved his fingers like waving strings.

“It is leading her, coasting her along. She is frightened beyond belief, but also
excited to embark on this venture.”

“You know, we just had this discussion recently, actually. She is going to speak at
the Queendom conference, so yeah, you’re right on. It was hard trying to get her to
open up about it though. Why do you think she was so guarded?”

“I don’t know…probably just in case she tries to back out of it again.” He smiled.
Saint laughed weakly.

“Yeah, I could see that. I always told her though that she is a dynamic speaker. I
told her they need to hear this stuff from a woman who has been in their shoes, not
just me.” He pointed to himself. Lawrence nodded in agreement.

“You moving back here, Saint, is also meant to help Hassani get to where he needs
to be. He needs to follow in your footsteps to some degree. You will have to bow out
gracefully, and let it take place. There is no promise he will make the same mistakes.
So, soothe your worries. You need to trust the process.”

“Yeah?” Saint smirked. “Easier said than done. I told you what I was up to at his
age and beyond. That isn’t something I want any of my children to aspire to. I was
out of control…”

“You were hurting. Hassani is too, just not in the same way. The blessing here is
that he has you as his father. You’ve left no secrets regarding what and who he is.
He knows. His journey will be different than yours because he has a good support system.
Will he make mistakes? Of course; he is a powerful child in the big world, but he
will also learn and heal. Hassani is destined for greatness and when he is your age,
I believe you will look at him in awe and realize you did a hell of a job raising
him.”

“You know, I wish when I was little…I had had what he has. In that, I do feel a bit
better, you know?” Saint sighed heavily and repositioned himself on the oversized
burnt orange pillow.

“Yes. I understand.”

“My inner child is still a bit messed up, Lawrence. I hate admitting that, but it’s
true. He is still acting out sometimes. He wants something but I don’t know what it
is, so, I leave him starving.”

“He’s not starving; he is well taken care of. Have you ever thought about if you knew
then what you know now, what you’d do differently?” Lawrence offered a serene smile.

“Yeah, but what good is that?”

“Well, there’s a hypnotic exercise I’d like to try with you, based on the concerns
you’ve shared with me this evening. It could help you make peace with yourself. Are
you interested?”

Saint hesitated for a moment, then nodded.

“Okay, hold on a sec.” Lawrence rose to his bare feet and headed into the kitchen.
He heard him speaking softly to Donna, but could not decipher the words. Moments later,
the woman came out, gave Saint a gentle smile then headed upstairs.

“What’s going on?” Saint asked.

“I don’t know how long this is going to take, and I wanted to give you plenty of time
to do this purge exercise. Now, this can become…emotional. Are you ready?”

“Uh…” Saint looked around the place, searching for an escape route. Uncertainty plagued
him, all of a sudden. “I don’t know if I want to do this now, man.”

“What are you afraid of?” Lawrence reached over the table and lit a stick of incense.

“I’m not afraid, I just…”

“You
are
afraid. You don’t like being emotional unless it is with your wife. With her, you
let your guard down with no reluctance. You don’t want me to see you like this. You
can already feel in your heart what may happen. Do you know our greatest strength,
as men, is our ability to express our greatest fears and own them?”

Saint said nothing, simply looked away.

“Now, are you ready?”

Saint nodded, deciding to go forward. Besides, it couldn’t possibly be that upsetting,
right? Just then, the rain began to smack violently against the large windows of the
place and the sky drew darker, causing the candle to burn a bit brighter.

“Now, I am not going to put you in a deep sleep, only a state of relaxation because
I wish for you to communicate with me in an altered consciousness.” Lawrence ran his
fingers over Saint’s eyelids in a silent bid to close them. “I want you to speak to
your sixteen-year-old self… I want you to sit by the sixteen-year-old Saint and describe
to me what he is doing, wearing and thinking. I want you to talk to him in any manner
you see fit. Begin…”

Just like that, Saint was dressed in glowing white, from head to toe. White button
down shirt, white loose slacks and soft, white canvas shoes. The room he stood in
was stark white, too. From floor to ceiling, there was no differentiation. The only
pop of color upon him was a black chain around his neck. He looked all around and
saw no one, only a white couch that almost blended into the room. A dusty cloud of
light gray emerged and on the couch, suddenly, a human form appeared. There he was—himself,
at age sixteen.

He gasped and gripped at his shirt, feeling as if he may be having a heart attack.
Lawrence’s voice softly reached him from far away…

“Take it easy, Saint…it’s okay…it’s okay…”

He was
really
sitting there… The sixteen-year-old Saint seemed oblivious to his presence. He leisurely
leaned back on the couch, looking around nonchalantly as he crossed his long legs.
And then…he heard himself speak, in his sixteen-year-old voice. Not nearly as deep
as it currently was, yet deeper than the voice of many boys that age…

“What do you want?” the teenager asked him when he took notice of his attendance,
a cocky attitude oozing from his damn pores. The boy pulled out a pre-rolled joint,
licked the seal for extra measure, lit it without a damn care in the world, and placed
it to his lips. His thick, black hair had been brushed back and faded, the waves so
deep, it seemed they moved like the ocean. A black Walkman sat by his side, the earphones
plugged in, ready to go… A pair of white K-Swiss covered his feet and a thick, gold
chain dangled from his long neck. Tall. Skinny. Empty. Not giving a fuck whether he
lived or died. There…Saint…was…

In the sixteen-year-old flesh…

“What do I want?” Saint repeated the boy’s question, trying to take in the sight.

“Yeah, mothafucka,” the boy said, a silly grin on his face while he blew out rings
of smoke. “Why’d you really call me here, huh?” He coughed, the ‘weed voice’ now in
full effect, his eyes narrowed to thin slashes. “What makes you think I want to relive
this shit, huh? I was fine just being a memory.”

“Relive what shit?”

The boy sighed in obvious aggravation. “Being
this
!” He pointed to himself. “I gotta live with me day in and day out. What makes you
think I want to discuss it, huh? This is some straight up bullshit, yo! You got your
little Indian friend to bring me here. I was just fine buried inside of you, not having
to do shit. I saw his ass; he made me talk to you. I heard what y’all was saying as
he was pushing me in here. So now, you got problems and you wanna talk to me?” He
clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, making a snapping sound. “I’m the
wrong one to ask. Believe dat, son. I do
what
I want to do,
when
I want to, and that scares the shit outta you.”

“It does.” Saint paused for a moment. “I don’t want Hassani to do that. I will admit
to you, when I look at you, I’m petrified,” Saint confessed as he sat down next to
himself on the couch. The boy-Saint looked at him from the corner of his golden eye,
the dark lashes batting against his face as he blinked. Everything moved as if in
slow motion.

“I never seen you from this angle before.” The boy smirked and blew out more smoke.
“At least I still look good. I’ve aged well. That’s cool. Can still pull the honeys…
I have no idea why you settled down with one woman, though. That really upset me,
man. All I feel is the same pussy every day, all day. At first she was exciting, but
now I want some
new
pussy… Can you handle that for me?” The boy winked and cracked a smile.

“I
get
new pussy every day, all day. I’ve never made love to my wife on a Sunday, February
12
^th
at exactly 6:01 P.M. while the snow is falling outside. Thus, there will always be
new experiences. She is a new woman
every
day, and I am a new man. Now, if you want me to cheat on her, then you’ll just be
unhappy. If I had left it up to you, I’d probably be strung out or dead somewhere,
quite honestly.”

The boy burst out laughing. “Probably…but you gotta live life, right? I feel you about
the new pussy thing… You really love her. I know that. I can feel it as I look at
myself…through your eyes, and share your heartbeat right now. At least the woman you
got can fuck like a champ, Jesus Christ! She can take a dick beat down too, I like
that.” He smirked, the nasty words dripping off his tongue. “I love girls…”

“No you don’t. You hate yourself and
love
sex.”

The boy nodded, seemingly unfazed from the revelation.

“That might be true.” He shrugged. “I ain’t never been in love before. I don’t know
what these otha mothafuckas are talking about…falling in love with some pussy. That’s
crazy to me. I mean, I assumed one day I might get married and settle down, but it
would be on my time table, nobody else’s. I’m glad to see I lived up to that.”

“Not quite. It took me a while to find her… I was messed up, partially because of
the choices I made while at your age.”

“What? Some wack pussy?” The boy burst out laughing, as if that was the funniest thing
in the world. “Some of these bitches’ pussies are a fuckin’ mess…hoes ’nd shit. Lying,
talking about they a virgin and ain’t never sucked a dick before and all this other
nonsense. Then, after I fuck ’em, they are blowin’ my beeper up. I don’t know another
way to describe it, but they get addicted to this dick man, like a damn crack head!”

Saint dropped his head in shame and embarrassment. This had been the beginning of
his sexual addiction—and he was looking at it now in reverse. The sixteen-year-old
him was none the wiser, blaming it on the girls, when it was he who was truly addicted.
Needing the rush, the feeling of ‘pretend’ love, in order to fill a hole that could
never be full.

“I had a few doozies, man…total waste of time. Anyway, I knew you wouldn’t cheat on
her but you can’t blame me for trying, right? I like to fuck…it’s what I live for.”
The boy turned serious, an almost evil vibe radiating from his thin body, filling
the room with something sad and blue, angry and red.