Saint's Sacrament - Sins of the Father

by Laveen, Tiana

  “…Son, take a deep breath…” his father muttered.

  He knew the man felt so helpless and was trying to hug him from afar, but Saint had started hyperventilating and he needed to calm down. He made an effort to quell the emotions.

  “That’s good. Keep breathing real deep and slow. Okay, now, Saint, I’m not certain of the karmic laws regarding that. What I can say is that it may be worth the risk, all the same.”

  “I’m not concerned about karmic risks! I just need to know that it will work, and I won’t make matters worse for her or our children. If the penalty lies with me and me alone, I couldn’t care less. I’ll pay it; I just need to make sure my family is okay if I do this!”

  “I understand. Look, I am going to call your great aunt in Egypt. She is an Angel Child as well and she would know the answer to this. I will find out for you, okay? Is this the number I should call back on, the one I see here on the caller I.D.?”

  “Yes…yes, and please hurry!” Saint hung up and felt a hand on his back. He didn’t dare turn around to see who it was. He was frozen in his state of mind and couldn’t move, even if he wanted to.

  After a few seconds, he smelled perfume—an all too familiar perfume, like the kind his mother used to wear. He checked around him, but no one was there. He was certain someone had rubbed his back, comforting him.

  Mama…

  “Mama!” he cried out as he made his way back to Xenia’s hospital room. Inside, he found Pam slumped in a chair and Porsche holding her sister’s hand, silent tears coming down her face, and a nurse taking her temperature. He assumed Stacey had left and would return later.

  Saint sniffed, his face a watery mess. Pam rose and handed him a tissue. Her eyes were bloodshot and tired and Porsche didn’t look much better.

  “Look…” Saint wiped his nose. “I need a moment alone with my wife, please…please!” he begged. His emotions had broken out of his heart and ran amock, tormenting him and leading him down a path of despair like he’d never imagined.

  Pam looked at Porsche, but remained silent.

  The nurse glanced at Saint sympathetically. “I will be out of here in just a second.”

  After a short while, the nurse headed out, followed by Pam and Porsche. Saint pressed into the door until he heard it click. He locked it, and sat by Xenia’s side. Placing her hand to his trembling lips, he kissed it, his heart heavy.

  “Xenia, baby…” He rocked back and forth in his seat, falling further apart. He could hardly see her through his tears. “If you can hear me, you gotta listen right now. I’m going to help you, okay, but you have to want me to. You have to do your part, meet me half way. I won’t make it if you die baby, you’ll take me with you ’cause I can’t live without you, baby!” He gripped her hand tighter. A deep pain in his chest made him tumble forward, his head on her chest. He wailed, sighed, moaned, unable to catch his breath. He’d never cried so hard in all of his life. It sounded so foreign, so strange, made him feel like this shit was happening to someone else, that it couldn’t be he and Xenia. But he was lost, and he couldn’t stop or find himself.Hearing his own sobs terrified him and he thought the emotional pain alone may kill him, all by its lonesome. He heard Pam outside the door; everything was suddenly in stereo.

  “Do you hear him in there? Give him all the time he needs, Porsche. I hate to hear a grown man cry! Do you hear that man?! Oh Lord Jesus, help my baby!” she wailed.

  George’s phone rang, bringing him out of his trance. He saw his father’s number and quickly answered it.

  “Yes.” He tried to sound as composed as possible, but he recognized he sounded exactly how he felt—enraged, out of control and eaten alive by sorrow.

  “Saint, I’ll get right to the point. You can heal her but depending on the severity of her injuries, it will take a lot out of you. So just like with any major healing process that goes beyond a cut or less severe injury, you could possibly die. There are no karmic repercussions for healing a spouse that could possibly pass away. It is expected, I suppose.” His father cleared his throat. “I know you are going to do it anyway. We both know that nothing I shared right now would have changed anything so I’m not even sure why we are having this conversation. You love her so much, you’d die for her. I’m in shock right now, trying to keep it together…and I’ve been praying for my daughter-in-law that she pulls through.”

  “Pop.” Saint sat up, grabbed another Kleenex and blew his nose. “You’re right. What you said wouldn’t have mattered unless you told me my children could die. I know she wouldn’t want that. That’s all I really wanted to know, to make sure Hassani, Dakarai and Isis would be okay if I do this. I know we have to sacrifice something when we do this. As long as it’s just me, I’m okay with that.”

  “Well, I understand now. Son?”

  “Yes?”

  “I can feel you…you’re in shock, like me. You’re angry and confused. Your energy is very scattered, I barely recognize you, and I’m fearful that when you come back to your senses, you will tear the world apart if she... never mind. Just be careful, please.”

  Saint looked at Xenia closely as he drew quiet on the phone with his father. He pulled the sheet back once more and lifted her hospital gown high this time, to examine her nude body. The flesh he’d kissed, massaged and cradled close for so many years had been tossed around like some old rag doll, leaving his dark cinnamon sweetheart a tangled, bloodied mess. He hated the damn car. He hated the expressway. He hated anything and everything that played a role in the entire ordeal. He didn’t give himself time to totally absorb the psychic hunch, but in the back of his mind, he didn’t believe it was an accident at all. He wasn’t certain where he’d gotten the notion, and it didn’t matter. It was planted in his mind now and he would get to the bottom of it at a later date. In the meantime, he made mental notes of what his bride needed, keeping a tally in his mind of all the places that needed healing. Visiting hours were winding down, but he knew he’d be allowed to stay. This would take all night. He couldn’t risk someone coming in and busting him in the act, but he couldn’t take her home—it had to be done right then and there.

  “She’s got a concussion, her brain is swelling. She’s doped up right now. They said she can’t breathe on her own, but her heart is working extra hard. One bone in her arm is broken, another fractured, and she has cuts and bruises almost everywhere. Her upper thigh got sliced pretty bad, but they already stitched that up.”

  “Okay, Son, that’s a lot, but there’s some hope there. Xenia is a fighter. She loves you and those children. That will help you. We both know you can’t heal anyone that doesn’t want to be healed, but I think you know deep down that she does. She’d never willingly leave you and those children. I can’t bear the thought of losing my son—but I know what this is like, so I won’t bother you with my own needs and I never want you to hurt the way I have all of these miserable years…I love you.” His father choked up and abruptly disconnected the call.

  Saint ran his hand gently along her breast, feeling her heartbeat, getting her vitals. He was confident he could bide his time until the late hours, when the skeleton shift worked and Pam, Porsche and Stacey would be long gone. He surmised the night crew would check on her every two to three hours. He’d set his watch nearby, ensuring he was off of her until they left them alone again so he could finish his work. Right now, Henry was on his way, and he wanted the coast completely clear before he began the process. After finishing his analysis, he pushed the hospital gown back down and placed her arms gently at the sides of her body. He delicately leaned down and kissed her forehead then stood straight, head lowered, crossed his left palm over the top of his right hand and said a silent prayer.

  “Creator, I need you to help me. You told me you wanted me to serve people, to help. I can’t do that if my soulmate is gone. I’m going to use my gifts that you gave me, to help bring my wife out of this. I’m risking my life to do so, but she is my life, so in fact, it is no risk at all. My children need
their mother, and they need me, too, so please, let this work and if for some reason you are determined to take a life from us, take mine and let her stay here with our children, to raise them and nurture them. I give my life for hers, if that is just the way it has to be…” He wiped more tears from his eyes and kissed Xenia gently on the lips before exiting the room, to invite the family and friends back inside.

  He returned to George, handed him back his phone and thanked him. “Please go home now,” he encouraged him. After a bit of resistance, the old man finally gave in but promised to be back over in the morning and also to bring Saint’s his phone. Saint returned to the room and watched Henry look sorrowfully down at his daughter, and no one said one peep. Saint bided his time and checked his watch.

  Xenia, in two and a half hours, we have a date. Take what I have, my sight, my hearing, my air and my heartbeat, and make it yours. I will see you soon.

  He disappeared back out of her room and made his way to the hospital chapel where he sat, prayed again and meditated…

  ….and fought his desire to scream out and tear the world apart...

  ~***~

  Jagger leaned casually on his black Jeep for a good hour before approaching the apartment complex. The entire time, he’d been plugged into Shianne after discovering which apartment she was in. He poured all of his psychic energy into her, all lines were blocked and closed and he was drained from her erratic behavior. He simply went by what Saint told him about her, and sniffed her out. Crazy is easy to spot. Sporadic, irrational energy was tossed his way—things that made no sense. The woman cursed and cried, as if she were heaving a nervous breakdown. No, no one could hear her, but he could. He decided to approach her apartment and get to the bottom of this. It wasn’t in his original plans, but he’d called Saint several times and received no answer or returned calls, and realized he’d have to make an executive decision. He realized due to all of his energy work on the suspect, he was unable to psychically tune into Saint as well, to let him know he needed his assistance. As with God, he couldn’t serve two masters. Shianne was in for an unexpected visitor and Jagger was thrilled at the opportunity to work his interrogation tactics on the young lady. Ready or not, she was going to talk and tell him the entire sordid story of her dealings with Sinclair, with or without her consent…

  ~***~

  Saint stood over her. It was exactly 2:32 a.m. The nurse had just left, stating she’d be back in four hours to give Xenia another round of pain medication. Saint hoped that was enough time because he was not completely certain how much additional time he’d need. He only knew, based on what he’d picked up from her damage, it was not going to be an easy, breezy task. He’d spent the first two hours praying over her body, going into trance and meditating. Now, it was time to get to work. He exhaled, walked over to the door and locked it. He returned to her bedside and stroked her arm gently, up and down. He then unbuttoned his bloodied shirt and removed it, casting it off to the side. Gently, he traced the tattoo of his family’s names that resided over his heart. His eyes watered, and he wiped the tears away once more. He’d spoken to Hassani and Dakarai over the phone. It was hard to lie to one’s children, especially children that were psychic, like their father. They knew something was wrong, but he kept trying to convince them both otherwise. The babysitter even stated that Isis had been crying nonstop, and that was so unlike her. Isis was a happy baby, but even she, at her tender age, knew her mother was in peril.

  He crawled onto the bed, framing himself around her. He gently straddled his wife as the blood pressure machine and monitors continued to make a computerized noisy symphony. Saint tilted her chin upward and slowly removed the oxygen mask. In a split second, he opened his mouth, allowing a thick, purple swirl of mist to escape and enter his wife’s body.

  Good, very good, baby. You’re accepting it…

  With lightning speed, he put the oxygen mask back on her and unsnapped the side of her hospital gown. He glanced over his shoulder, paranoid that someone may come. After a brief hesitation, he slid his hand over her breast, right over her heart. Her chilled skin was covered in tiny goosebumps. The room was actually warm. She had been having cold chills no doubt as her body went on a rampage, trying to fight infections. With the palm of his hand, he pressed harder onto her chest, forcing her to gasp. Her eyes remained closed as he continued to do this for several minutes. He spoke to her telepathically, as he continued on…

  Xenia, your brain is no longer swelling. It is healthy, fine and recovered. If you want this healing of your brain, please accept this gift. Xenia, your neck is no longer hurting or strained. If you want this healing of your neck, please accept this gift. Xenia, the bones in your arm are no longer broken, fractured or hurting. If you want this healing of your arm, please accept this gift. Xenia, your stomach is no longer upset. If you want this healing of your stomach and lower intestines, please accept this gift…

  And so he continued until he had gone over every part of her that had been injured and affected from the car accident. Saint opened his mouth once more, and white smoke poured out, soon enveloping her until she could almost no longer be seen. The room drew warmer, as if a small fire had been lit. He ran his hands up and down her arms, warming her further as he continued. He began to chant, rocking back and forth as he ran his fingertips across her heart, her face, and all along her body. The room shook, the vibrations gaining in intensity. He chanted louder and the sound of voices cut through the fog and turbulence. He was in the zone until a knock on the door brought him out of the trance…

  He was almost finished. It appeared her body accepted the gifts he was bestowing. He was being drained, further proof that she in fact was taking all that she needed. It felt like it had only lasted an hour or so, but when he glanced at the red blinking clock on the wall, he realized over three hours had passed. Trickles of sweat ran down his body as he leaned over and tenderly kissed her lips.

  Come on baby…open those eyes! Speak to me!

  He was so weak, but he pushed himself forward as overwhelming pain swirled inside of his chest.

  “Xenia! I said come on, damn it!” he screamed through the physical torture, his voice hoarse and weak.

  Suddenly, she blinked. And blinked again. Her eyelashes fluttered for several seconds until she opened both eyes and looked around the room in wonder and amazement, as if she’d never seen the light of day before. The fog framed her body but gave him a clear view of her. Saint laughed in sheer relief as he stroked the side of her face, more tears running down his face. He checked her heart and lungs.

  Yes, baby! You’re breathing on your own!

  He pulled the gown up, exposing her thigh. The gash in her leg was healing at a fast rate. The knocks on the door got louder. He closed his mouth, commanding the smoke to dissipate. In a semi-daze, he slid off of her, almost falling to the floor as his balance was compromised. He wobbled to the door, barely making it. Two nurses stood there, their faces twisted in anger.

  “Sir, we do not allow patients or their visitors to lock the doors here, as is clearly marked on the door. The lock is only for staff to utilize as needed.” Both women shot him an irritated glance. He then recalled his state of semi-undress and sweat soaked body as the women looked him up and down in disbelief. They abruptly brushed past him and looked in Xenia’s direction.

  “Her oxygen machine stopped, that is why we are here,” one nurse said as she checked the equipment.

  “Hmmm, she seems to be okay. Not sure what happened.” She looked at the monitors in the room.

  The other nurse looked back at Saint as he slumped against a wall.

  “Sir, are you okay? You don’t look well.”

  “My…” He saw the two nurses, then, four, then six. They were multiplying then things became blurry and his eyes stung! Stung like killer bees buzzed inside of them. He tried to play it cool. “… apologies…you see, I was praying and…” He slumped to the floor then, holding his chest as unbelievable pain tore through his ribc
age with brutal force.

  “Sir!”

  “…with my wife…for…my…wiiiife and—”

  “Sir! Jane, page the doctor! This man is going into cardiac arrest!”

  When she said the words, it sounded as if she were speaking underwater. Everything became blurry and in seconds, Saint could no longer hear or see, but he could definitely feel…

  ~***~

  Jagger rapped at the woman’s door, his knuckles beating into the shiny paint finish. He stuck his hands in his jeans pockets and rocked on his heels, waiting. When he received no answer, he took matters into his own hands.

  BOOM!

  The apartment door swung in and he stood in a living room, looking at a skinny woman with her blonde-streaked dark brown hair in disarray. She lay in the middle of the floor as if she’d been blown away by a strong gust of wind. Startled, she looked up at him and began to scream. Jagger marched up to her and wrapped his hand around her quivering mouth, instantly silencing her.

  “Shut…up!” he said between clenched teeth. He grabbed her, raced back to the door he’d practically knocked off the hinges, and closed it back the best he could. Then he looked around, and dragged her toward a room he could see in the far back.

  She struggled to speak and her eyes roved, wide and wild. Surely she thought the big man was going to assault her, that he’d come to do her physical harm. He tossed her on the bed and locked the door.

  “Please!” she screamed louder. “Please don’t hurt me! I’ve got money, I’ve got jewelry, take what you want and leave!”

  “I told you to shut up, and that’s what I mean,” Jagger said calmly before he removed his jacket and sucked his teeth. “Now look, I’m not here to rob, rape or kill you. I’m here for some information. Now, we can do this the easy way or the hard way, ya got it?”

  “What…what do you mean?” She shook like a leaf.