When Saint Goes Marching In (36 page)
Read When Saint Goes Marching In Online
Authors: Tiana Laveen
His bare feet pushed down firmly onto the warm, sun-bathed grass. The vision of an expanse of purple flowers, in various shades of violet, made his heart skip a beat as their delightful aroma made love to his senses. Dressed in light, loose-fitting white pants and shirt, Saint drew closer to his destination. The warm breeze caressed his skin through the fine linen. He crossed the wide open field, his heart on a mission. Cool soil met with his bare feet through the grass. It reminded him of springtime, of fresh renewal after a long hiatus, after all the death brought by autumn had passed and the immobility of winter had melted away. It was comforting to see the wonders that nature had to offer.
Saint paused to watch two deer mating to his left. He stood still, careful not to scare them away. The long grasses blew easily over their light brown, intertwined bodies. The doe, wild eyed and submissive, buckled down as the male gripped her tightly, leaned her down into the flowers and weeds, ensured that he would create new life.
Saint smiled then quietly resumed his walk. The field seemed to have no ending and no beginning.
“She’s here,” he murmured.
He could smell her. Even amongst the overpowering perfume of the lilac flowers, he could smell his Queen’s lovely fragrance. Her scent became stronger and stronger until finally, he saw her.
Xenia lie naked amongst the flowers, laughing a full, happy laugh. She played in the grass and purple petals fell like raindrops from the sky onto her glistening flesh. Her laughter filled his heart with joy.
“There’s my mate.”
He drew closer to her until he reached her side. Oblivious to his presence, she continued to roll around in the grass. Joy and glee danced around her.
Saint reached down and touched her, letting his fingertips caress her soft skin. She still didn’t feel him, but her skin, once it made contact with his, turned slick, shiny and purple until she was lavender from the top of her head to the bottom of her feet.
Her eyes flew open; her irises too, were light purple. They sparkled like a glass of wine in a crystal goblet. Saint lie down beside her, wrapped his arms snugly around her as she welcomed him between her rounded thighs. She put her fingers on his neck, pressing gently as she stared deeply into his eyes. His clothing seemed to melt away, exposing youthful skin that turned emerald as they rolled together, merged and became one. Soft music played in the distance.
“I just want to feel your hands all over me,” Xenia said, her voice echoing throughout the field. “I’m so sorry and I missed you.”
“Shhh,” Saint said. “Don’t say another word. Let’s just enjoy this moment, forever.”
They rolled over and over, held each other tightly and laughed wholeheartedly as the sun bathed their bare skin.
“Thank you for rejoining the here and now. Enjoy Chapter Two…” a faint voice called out in the distance.
* * *
Saint held his head down as sweat trickled down the back of his neck. His breaths were loud, strained, as if he had been exercising hard. His hands extended under the smooth, white coffin, along with five other pairs. George sat in the front with Valerie, holding her hand as her body shook from tremendous grief. Saint felt his knees buckling, not from the weight of James, but from the weight of his heart. He regained his composure as he moved his long legs steadily, step by step, towards the door of the gigantic Catholic Church. The stained glass windows and eerie pipe organ hymns created a somber mood as he and the other gentlemen carrying the casket moved forward. This mood would soon be changed once the party James wanted took place later. The large church doors opened slowly to welcome the afternoon sunshine. Saint’s dark suit, crisp white shirt and black-and-white tie symbolized more than anyone, except the members of the organization, would ever know. As soon as the sun poured down upon him, the dark fabric soaked up the heat from the powerful star. Saint walked towards the black hearse and limousine, consumed with sorrowfulness.
“We’re going to the burial site,” the Priest whispered to an elderly woman as he gripped his Bible tightly. After helping to place James’ body on the lift lever for the hearse, Saint got into the limousine, as requested by Valerie. He sat by James’ younger sister, Ramona, George, and a person he didn’t know. Saint looked out the window and up at the sky, praying for this day to be over as soon as possible.
The light scent of his natural cologne drifted in the vehicle as he climbed in, seeming to calm everyone. Valerie looked at her sister-in-law who sat across from her and smiled. “He smells good, doesn’t he? He always does,” she said, loud enough that he could hear.
Valerie smiled sadly as new tears brimmed in the corners of her eyes. Saint stared into space, a dark, slow burn sliding down his throat and chest.
Valerie opened her pearl white clutch purse and removed a small red box. She leaned over to Saint and grabbed his hand. Saint turned and looked at her, their eyes meeting. She looked a little calmer now; perhaps his presence, his aura, counted for something right now, he thought glumly.
“Saint,” she whispered. “James wanted me to give this to you.” She handed the box to Saint along with a folded piece of paper. Saint took the items as Valerie leaned back into the seat, clasped her hands, and closed her eyes. He looked down at the red box and the folded piece of paper in his hands. Carefully unfolding it, Saint began to read.
Saint,
I asked Valerie to give this to you on the day of my funeral. I’m fine, better than fine and yes, I can say that in advance because I know where I am going. You’re a very special person, Saint, and because of just how special you are, you deserved something that I have had since I was twenty-seven years old. Inside that box is a necklace. I know that you like necklaces, especially ones that have spiritual meaning. This one was made for me by a shaman. I had become ill, an awful cold that wouldn’t budge, and he made it for me. Its vial was filled with ointment and herbs to heal me. One tiny little drop solved everything. I have no idea what was in it, but it worked. I’m giving it to you, not because you need healing, but for protection. What the shaman neglected to tell me was that it also helped protect me from my enemies. When you are on a dangerous assignment, or just want to feel me closer to you, wear it.
I love you,
James
Saint opened the book and looked at the weathered leather neck strap with the small, rectangular pendant, half full with what appeared to be water. Saint rubbed his fingers across it and smiled. He could feel the power inside it.
They arrived at the cemetery almost a half hour later. Saint seemed to wake from a trance as Valerie shook his arm.
“Saint, we’re here, darling,” she said sweetly.
Saint smiled at her and got out of the limousine. A large crowd of close friends and family gathered around the mausoleum where James wished to be buried. Right by him, waiting, was a space for Valerie which had been planned years in advance. Saint stood nearby in front, listening to everyone give their last speeches and lay down their flowers. When it was his turn, he approached the coffin. He had spoken lovingly of James at the funeral, and was very careful to not disclose the full nature of their relationship.
Saint cleared his throat.
“I’m never at a loss for the right words but today I am I because a part of me doesn’t want to believe he is gone. I want to thank all of you for coming out for my second father’s home-coming. James was an important person to the country and to so many who knew him personally. He was important to me.” Saint paused then continued.
“James had taken me under his wing. He taught me by example. He was a positive influence in my life and held me in high regard until he found out how horrible I was at golf.”
Everyone laughed and Saint felt the ache ease just a little. He was sure James was there watching his own funeral, watching
him
. Saint felt that love all around him.
He felt renewed energy to speak out and express how he truly felt.
“He gave me some very sound advice one day that applies to many areas of my life, advice I’ll never forget. We’ve heard it before, in different ways, but coming from James, it had new meaning. He told me,
‘Don’t start what you can’t finish.’
Whatever it may be.
“Boys don’t take responsibility for the havoc they cause to themselves and others. Men do. James was a man’s man. He was sensitive, macho, understanding and easy-going all rolled into one. They don
’
t make them like him anymore and…” he choked on the words, “I’m going to miss him…so much.”
He looked down at James’ casket and touched the cool exterior.
“James isn’t in here; this is just a shell. James is gone but he can hear everything we have to say right now. But I’m selfish. I still want him here, physically. We’re not fine but he is. He’s going to see his beautiful wife Valerie again one day and knowing James, he will be waiting for her at the gate with a handful of huge white roses, her favorite.”
Valerie smiled and sniffed into her Kleenex.
“We love you James,” Saint whispered. “I can only hope to be half the man you were.”
* * *
Xenia
tried to contain her emotions as she looked at Valerie and Saint.
“Mommy, Daddy is crying,” Hassani said, his voice full of concern.
“I know, baby. He is sad but he will be OK,” she said gently as she switched Dakarai to her right hip.
“I don’t think so, Mommy. I dreamt Daddy cried for a million, trillion years and never stopped and I asked him why he won’t stop crying and he said because his soul mate didn’t love him no more. What’s a soul mate, Mommy?”
* * *
CHAPTER TWELVE
“Faith is something you hold even though it’s not tangible,” Saint said to himself as he walked around the swimming pool, lighting ivory floating candles.
Saint paused to watch two deer mating to his left. He stood still, careful not to scare them away. The long grasses blew easily over their light brown, intertwined bodies. The doe, wild eyed and submissive, buckled down as the male gripped her tightly, leaned her down into the flowers and weeds, ensured that he would create new life.
Saint smiled then quietly resumed his walk. The field seemed to have no ending and no beginning.
“She’s here,” he murmured.
He could smell her. Even amongst the overpowering perfume of the lilac flowers, he could smell his Queen’s lovely fragrance. Her scent became stronger and stronger until finally, he saw her.
Xenia lie naked amongst the flowers, laughing a full, happy laugh. She played in the grass and purple petals fell like raindrops from the sky onto her glistening flesh. Her laughter filled his heart with joy.
“There’s my mate.”
He drew closer to her until he reached her side. Oblivious to his presence, she continued to roll around in the grass. Joy and glee danced around her.
Saint reached down and touched her, letting his fingertips caress her soft skin. She still didn’t feel him, but her skin, once it made contact with his, turned slick, shiny and purple until she was lavender from the top of her head to the bottom of her feet.
Her eyes flew open; her irises too, were light purple. They sparkled like a glass of wine in a crystal goblet. Saint lie down beside her, wrapped his arms snugly around her as she welcomed him between her rounded thighs. She put her fingers on his neck, pressing gently as she stared deeply into his eyes. His clothing seemed to melt away, exposing youthful skin that turned emerald as they rolled together, merged and became one. Soft music played in the distance.
“I just want to feel your hands all over me,” Xenia said, her voice echoing throughout the field. “I’m so sorry and I missed you.”
“Shhh,” Saint said. “Don’t say another word. Let’s just enjoy this moment, forever.”
They rolled over and over, held each other tightly and laughed wholeheartedly as the sun bathed their bare skin.
“Thank you for rejoining the here and now. Enjoy Chapter Two…” a faint voice called out in the distance.
* * *
Saint held his head down as sweat trickled down the back of his neck. His breaths were loud, strained, as if he had been exercising hard. His hands extended under the smooth, white coffin, along with five other pairs. George sat in the front with Valerie, holding her hand as her body shook from tremendous grief. Saint felt his knees buckling, not from the weight of James, but from the weight of his heart. He regained his composure as he moved his long legs steadily, step by step, towards the door of the gigantic Catholic Church. The stained glass windows and eerie pipe organ hymns created a somber mood as he and the other gentlemen carrying the casket moved forward. This mood would soon be changed once the party James wanted took place later. The large church doors opened slowly to welcome the afternoon sunshine. Saint’s dark suit, crisp white shirt and black-and-white tie symbolized more than anyone, except the members of the organization, would ever know. As soon as the sun poured down upon him, the dark fabric soaked up the heat from the powerful star. Saint walked towards the black hearse and limousine, consumed with sorrowfulness.
“We’re going to the burial site,” the Priest whispered to an elderly woman as he gripped his Bible tightly. After helping to place James’ body on the lift lever for the hearse, Saint got into the limousine, as requested by Valerie. He sat by James’ younger sister, Ramona, George, and a person he didn’t know. Saint looked out the window and up at the sky, praying for this day to be over as soon as possible.
The light scent of his natural cologne drifted in the vehicle as he climbed in, seeming to calm everyone. Valerie looked at her sister-in-law who sat across from her and smiled. “He smells good, doesn’t he? He always does,” she said, loud enough that he could hear.
Valerie smiled sadly as new tears brimmed in the corners of her eyes. Saint stared into space, a dark, slow burn sliding down his throat and chest.
Valerie opened her pearl white clutch purse and removed a small red box. She leaned over to Saint and grabbed his hand. Saint turned and looked at her, their eyes meeting. She looked a little calmer now; perhaps his presence, his aura, counted for something right now, he thought glumly.
“Saint,” she whispered. “James wanted me to give this to you.” She handed the box to Saint along with a folded piece of paper. Saint took the items as Valerie leaned back into the seat, clasped her hands, and closed her eyes. He looked down at the red box and the folded piece of paper in his hands. Carefully unfolding it, Saint began to read.
Saint,
I asked Valerie to give this to you on the day of my funeral. I’m fine, better than fine and yes, I can say that in advance because I know where I am going. You’re a very special person, Saint, and because of just how special you are, you deserved something that I have had since I was twenty-seven years old. Inside that box is a necklace. I know that you like necklaces, especially ones that have spiritual meaning. This one was made for me by a shaman. I had become ill, an awful cold that wouldn’t budge, and he made it for me. Its vial was filled with ointment and herbs to heal me. One tiny little drop solved everything. I have no idea what was in it, but it worked. I’m giving it to you, not because you need healing, but for protection. What the shaman neglected to tell me was that it also helped protect me from my enemies. When you are on a dangerous assignment, or just want to feel me closer to you, wear it.
I love you,
James
Saint opened the book and looked at the weathered leather neck strap with the small, rectangular pendant, half full with what appeared to be water. Saint rubbed his fingers across it and smiled. He could feel the power inside it.
They arrived at the cemetery almost a half hour later. Saint seemed to wake from a trance as Valerie shook his arm.
“Saint, we’re here, darling,” she said sweetly.
Saint smiled at her and got out of the limousine. A large crowd of close friends and family gathered around the mausoleum where James wished to be buried. Right by him, waiting, was a space for Valerie which had been planned years in advance. Saint stood nearby in front, listening to everyone give their last speeches and lay down their flowers. When it was his turn, he approached the coffin. He had spoken lovingly of James at the funeral, and was very careful to not disclose the full nature of their relationship.
Saint cleared his throat.
“I’m never at a loss for the right words but today I am I because a part of me doesn’t want to believe he is gone. I want to thank all of you for coming out for my second father’s home-coming. James was an important person to the country and to so many who knew him personally. He was important to me.” Saint paused then continued.
“James had taken me under his wing. He taught me by example. He was a positive influence in my life and held me in high regard until he found out how horrible I was at golf.”
Everyone laughed and Saint felt the ache ease just a little. He was sure James was there watching his own funeral, watching
him
. Saint felt that love all around him.
He felt renewed energy to speak out and express how he truly felt.
“He gave me some very sound advice one day that applies to many areas of my life, advice I’ll never forget. We’ve heard it before, in different ways, but coming from James, it had new meaning. He told me,
‘Don’t start what you can’t finish.’
Whatever it may be.
“Boys don’t take responsibility for the havoc they cause to themselves and others. Men do. James was a man’s man. He was sensitive, macho, understanding and easy-going all rolled into one. They don
’
t make them like him anymore and…” he choked on the words, “I’m going to miss him…so much.”
He looked down at James’ casket and touched the cool exterior.
“James isn’t in here; this is just a shell. James is gone but he can hear everything we have to say right now. But I’m selfish. I still want him here, physically. We’re not fine but he is. He’s going to see his beautiful wife Valerie again one day and knowing James, he will be waiting for her at the gate with a handful of huge white roses, her favorite.”
Valerie smiled and sniffed into her Kleenex.
“We love you James,” Saint whispered. “I can only hope to be half the man you were.”
* * *
Xenia
tried to contain her emotions as she looked at Valerie and Saint.
“Mommy, Daddy is crying,” Hassani said, his voice full of concern.
“I know, baby. He is sad but he will be OK,” she said gently as she switched Dakarai to her right hip.
“I don’t think so, Mommy. I dreamt Daddy cried for a million, trillion years and never stopped and I asked him why he won’t stop crying and he said because his soul mate didn’t love him no more. What’s a soul mate, Mommy?”
* * *
CHAPTER TWELVE
“Faith is something you hold even though it’s not tangible,” Saint said to himself as he walked around the swimming pool, lighting ivory floating candles.
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