Saint And Sinners: The King Angel Child of New York

by Tiana Laveen

  “Guarded. Standoffish.”

  “Yes!” She sighed and looked briefly down into her lap. “I need him to be able to speak to me, Xenia. I need for us to be all right. I’m his wife now. I want him to let me in. How can I get him to understand?”

  “It may take some time, but just keep telling him it is okay. Reassure him. He just doesn’t want to frighten you, I believe. I don’t think Osaze is ashamed of what he is, at least not anymore. He just loves you so much, Kyung Mi. He is probably a little afraid you may run off if it becomes too much. Even to this day, there are some things that go on with Saint that he doesn’t want me to see. He doesn’t want me to be afraid, and well,” Xenia shrugged, “I can understand a man who is a protector, who does not want to frighten his wife.

  “Some things Saint can’t hide; other things, he will try to cover or ensure that I never get wind of. I don’t need to see everything.” Xenia chuckled, causing Kyung Mi to do the same.

  “I mean, seriously.” Xenia threw up her hands. “I have three children by this man, and they’ve got stuff going on too and believe you me, you would not conceive of some of the stuff I witness on a daily basis in that house! Pure lunacy!”

  Kyuny Mi laughed lightly. “Yes, I imagine so.”

  “My children are comfortable around me though. They know Mommy won’t judge them, and well, in a sense, Osaze is like a child with you, too. He needs to take baby steps, make sure you won’t throw him aside. I believe he trusts you. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t have married you. However, trusting and trying to protect your partner are two different things.”

  The woman nodded in understanding as she ran her finger against an empty white teacup setting on the table before her.

  “They are so fascinating though, aren’t they?” she said in a whisper as she looked dreamily into the living room. Her eyes glossed over as if she’d just seen an iridescent, beckoning beauty that was invisible to others. Xenia could not only witness the love in the older woman’s dark brown, expressive eyes that glittered and shined just so, but she could also feel the energy radiating off of her profound soul that warmed the entire kitchen, covering everything close by like a heated hug.

  She adores that man so much…

  “Yes, they are fascinating. You know…” Xenia tapped her finger along the table, slightly bunching the table spread. “One of the things that strikes me, Kyung Mi, something that is a part of this whole thing…” Xenia took a sip of her tea and set the cup back down. “Before I met Saint, I believed in the unexplainable. Due to my journalism and news reporting background from media school, that wasn’t what I could talk about on air. I had to stick to facts early in my career. Then, when I had my own show that focused on music celebrities, I had much more leeway. I’ve seen and heard all sorts of things, some of which most people wouldn’t believe.” Xenia grazed her fingertips over her collarbone as she glided into an array of innermost reflections.

  “Before I met Saint, I had these unconventional notions. I think in some ways, it was preparation for meeting a man such as himself. Anyway, I kept my little kooky ideas to myself up until that point… but inside, yeah…” She grinned and shrugged. “I’m the ‘Lochness Monster is real’ type of person. I had an open mind, but never in my wildest dreams would I have believed that people like him,”—she lowered her voice to a whisper, looked briefly over her shoulder, then back at Kyung Mi—“…and his father existed. There are so many wondrous things going on in the world, much of which we know nothing about. It makes sense to me that God would create people, just like you and me, that are a bit more in tune with the workings of the human spirit, you know? That is how I see Saint. He is just more aware of his soul surroundings, I guess we could say.”

  “I am so grateful for this chat, Xenia.” The woman rubbed at her left eye and flashed a grateful expression, as if a great gift had been given to her. Xenia squirmed in her seat, resisting the urge to shower the woman with an avalanche of tender affection. She didn’t want to draw the men’s attention. After all, this was a ‘ladies only’ meeting. “You have really helped me. I have no one else to talk to.”

  Xenia nodded and took another sip of her tea.

  “Well that’s over with…now you do.”

  Kyung Mi grinned, exposing her small teeth in a friendly, almost child-like smile.

  “Tell me your philosophy on the existence of Angel Children.”

  Whoa. Kyung Mi apparently fell into a soft comfort zone with Xenia faster than a comet filled with rocket fuel. Her questions became more complex as she dug around for another slice of understanding to devour. The woman was hungry, thirsting for the companionship of another Angel Child’s wife, and someone who could listen to her objectively, in a safe environment.

  “Angel Children are here to help protect other people. They have a lot of rules they must follow. There are all sorts of things going on that Saint himself doesn’t even quite understand but he is trying and at the end of the day…you know what?”

  “What?” The woman smiled at Xenia, hanging on to her every word.

  Xenia paused, fearful that her train of thought could be derailed if they came bustling in the room a moment too soon. Instead, she was greeted by the distant image of two men, definitely father and son from all physical attributes, horsing around and laughing as they spoke in some mannish code.

  “I just see a man…my Saint.” Xenia kept her eye on that stunning specimen a bit longer before turning to face Kyung Mi once again. “I don’t see the thick swirls of smoke, the strange colored eyes, the ability to read my mind. No, I just see a gorgeous man, inside and out, that I am so in love with, and a wonderful father to our children. He’s funny…the man makes me laugh all the time, and he loves me so much.” Xenia’s lips curved upward in a warm smile. “That’s all he really wants, too. Saint just wants me to see him as my husband and my best friend, and I imagine, Kyung Mi…” The woman’s eyes were filled with tears—“…that’s all Osaze wants you to focus on as well. Never fear, eventually he will let you in. He has no choice, that’s what he needs, and that’s what he’ll do.”

  Kyung Mi stood from her seat and cupped her cheeks like a little girl told how pretty her frilly dress was. Her face flushed with hues of red and that smile of hers grew increasingly wider.

  “Thank you so much, Xenia. That helps. It really does. I love him…I love Osaze so much. I don’t think he even knows how much.” She turned back towards the pot, gave it a few good stirs, then turned the eye off.

  “I know you do, and you’re welcome. My door is always open.”

  A few moments later, Osaze stumbled into the kitchen like a gunshot victim. The man huffed and puffed, trying to catch a breathy tiger by its wispy toe. His salt and pepper hair, once combed to perfection like a gentleman’s, was now disheveled, the black strands on top poking here, there and everywhere. Even his faded, plaid blue and white shirt hitched up on one end, exposing part of his stomach and side, as if it had been buttoned incorrectly.

  Xenia’s raised fingers to her lips as she wrestled to keep her composure. For a fleeting moment, she could barely contain herself. Her body vibrated with restrained mirth, threatening to have her break in a fit of giggles.

  “What in the world happened to you?!” Kyung Mi asked when she turned and saw him standing there, a goofy grin on his face that didn’t match his obvious condition.

  “Suh…Saint happened.” He gasped for air, his hand poised on the wall as if he needed help with balance. “… That no good son of mine, he…” He closed his eyes, breathing even harder. “He tried to throw away my incense.” The old man leaned against the yellow and beige wallpapered wall, unable to stand on his own. He paused, then slid his crooked glasses up his nose. “He pretended it was out of his mind, and then he grabbed my stuff and attempted to bolt out the front door… I…had to stop him. Never mind that though. Will lunch be ready soon, honey? I’m famished.”

  Both women looked at each other and it was a wrap. They both burst out
into laughter, winking at one another, vowing to keep secrets forever more.

  “Yes, Osaze. Lunch is almost finished. Have a seat.” She pointed to one of the chairs and turned back towards the stove, her little shoulders moving up and down as she continued to chuckle.

  “Saint! You leave your father alone!” Xenia screamed out, her voice cracking and hoarse, with no semblance of sincerity. Saint appeared at the doorway, his hair all over his head as well, reminiscent of moistened black feathers as if a cow had slid its sloppy, thick tongue all over his scalp and licked the man’s tresses into a wet peak.

  The old man gave you a run for your money, huh?

  Xenia smirked, not daring to utter her thoughts.

  She looked a bit closer at her husband, noting more evidence of the altercation. Dark, sooty smudges could be seen all over the left side of his face, probably from the unwrapped incense he’d attempted to cart away.

  “Kyung Mi, I’m hungry.” He sounded like a little boy, and his expression reminded Xenia of one, too—his bottom lip slightly pouty, a sheen of moisture on the light pink, poked out thing, and also that notorious mischievous glimmer in his golden eyes. “I need nourishment, please. That elderly person,” he pointed to the back of his father who was keenly ignoring him, “…still has some pep in his broken-down step, took me by surprise.”

  Xenia could see Kyung Mi’s shoulders rising and falling all over again. She’d cooled down, and now Saint got her back started.

  “I yanked you like a yo-yo…” Osaze muttered. “These kids try to tussle with their own parents!”

  “Saint, let me feed you, sit down please. You owe your father an apology for attacking him like that,” Kung Mi chastised. She stood there, a big smile on her face, the kind where all of her teeth showed.

  “It smells great in here.” Saint huffed as he took a seat, ignoring the woman who’d made a request.

  “Why’d you attack my husband?” Kyung Mi asked, still playing the role of a caring wife, not letting the notion go. Unfortunately, her acting was horrendous. It was evident she was highly amused.

  “Attack your husband? No, you have it all wrong.” Saint waved his hand in the air, as if trying to stop an airplane from taxiing too close. “Your crazy spouse tried to attack me over some funky ass old incense sticks!” Saint pointed at himself, as if he’d been the victim of some vicious assault. “Kyung Mi, please throw all of his stuff out! Do it when he isn’t here. My mother had the same problem with him, but it has gotten worse in his old age. He is a hoarder!” Saint shot his father a faux hateful sneer.

  “They’re my funky ass old sticks and neither you nor anyone else had better toss anything that belongs to me in the trash!” Osaze warned as he poked himself in his heaving chest, then took hold of a glass of water that had been just been freshly poured. He gulped it down as if he hadn’t drunk a drop all day. Saint grumbled under his breath before he stood.

  “I’m going to go wash my hands, I’ll be right back.” He disappeared down the short hall.

  “Osaze, thanks for coming out with us today.” Xenia reached for the man’s hand and gripped it. “It was nice having your opinions about the different properties we looked at.”

  “No problem. It was fun. I can’t wait until you all are moved in and settled.” The man paused, looked at Kyung Mi’s back then waved to Xenia to come close. He cupped his hands around ear. “Don’t tell Saint, but I missed him so much that when he told me you guys were moving back, I levitated off the bed that night. Thank goodness Kyung Mi slept through the entire episode!”

  *

  “Mmmm hmmmm uh mmmm!” Saint hummed a catchy tune he couldn’t recall the name of as he washed his hands, the warm water flowing over his sudsy fingers, sending lather remnants into the drain. He’d taken a look around the small bathroom, and thought thank goodness Kyung Mi had gotten her Goddess-like hands on the place, kissing the rooms with a dainty feminine touch. Once filled with ruddy and burnt orange rust stains on the taps, an old powder blue shower curtain that he had been there since his teenage years, and a dusty plastic plant with several missing leaves, the place now looked refreshed and pleasant. The old sink and basin had been replaced with a sparkling bowl and tub. He was certain his stepmother had insisted upon it, and any person in their right mind would have done the same.

  He also took note of a brand new clear shower curtain, double layered with pictures of the Parisian Eiffel tower, and two pedestal soap dishes with something sweet and lemony that filled the entire room up. Saint dried off his hands on the flowery pink hand towel and motioned to leave the bathroom as he drew closer to the locked door. But then, he paused.

  I wonder what’s in there…

  Not known to snoop, his curiosity got the better of him as he caught his own reflection. The mirrored medicine cabinet had been replaced, too. Looking both ways, as if planning a robbery, he plucked the magnetic hold of the cupboard open and peered inside, taking a gander at the translucent, brown tinted medicine bottles, strangled toothpaste tubes and container of Q-tips.

  “Ahhhhh, shit! You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” He cackled as he reached inside, clawing his way through an assortment of naughty treasures. These were customary in his home, but he’d never dreamed such fascinating and fabulously explicit contraptions would be in his prudish father’s residence.

  Excitement pumped through his veins as he collected incriminating evidence. He couldn’t help but touch the top of the thick, sensual massage oil lid, noting some of the content was missing. Alongside it lay a small, light pink bullet vibrator sticking partially out of a satiny pouch and a bottle of KY personal lubricant. It, too, had been applied at least a time or two…

  Pops is gettin’ his damn groove on…

  Saint’s lips rose upward in a smile fit for an exhilarated fiend and he flicked his tongue out.

  “Now this was just silly… They need to keep this shit in their bedroom. If they did, people like me wouldn’t see it, all their private business out in the open.”

  And then, it hit him…

  “Too late now, I know what you’ve been doin’, Dad.” He beamed as he turned on the water full blast and gently closed the medicine cabinet, ensuring no one heard it click back into place before he exited the bathroom. When he returned to the muggy kitchen, everyone was sitting down gorging on enormous bowls of steaming soup, sticky rice, crisp salads with sliced eggs on top, and plates of hot noodles with green onion sauce and savory roasted chicken.

  “Oh man, y’all started without me, huh?” Saint didn’t wait for an answer. He scooted next to Xenia, his arm brushing against her shoulder as he reached for his food. He dipped his spoon in a bowl, anticipating the savory delight he knew would soon flood his mouth. Taking a hearty gulp, he savored the rich taste of the broth, relishing how the hot, full-bodied flavors coated his tongue.

  “This is so good, Kyung Mi.” He slurped another spoonful into his mouth, and yet another.

  “Thank you, Saint.” She smiled brightly, taking tiny sips from her own spoon while sitting with her back straight as a pencil and perfect poise.

  “I’m sure you were in there throwing away my dental floss and deodorant,” his father said, a bit of anger in his tone as he picked up the dead horse and cast the heavy thing across the room to be prepared for supper.

  I know this mofo ain’t salty, bringing this shit up again…

  “Nah, wasn’t anything to throw away.” Saint grinned into his soup bowl, seeing his warped reflection in the broth before taking another spoonful. “Everything you have in there I want you to have. Matter of fact…you need more…” A lump formed in Saint’s throat as his soup competed with his need to laugh. Either way, one of them was coming out. Swallow or chuckle… He conceded and decided to swallow.

  Osaze remained quiet, ignoring his son. Then, like a lightning bolt had flown from a Greek God’s archery grip and crash landed into the small room, the truth of Saint’s words must’ve hit him hard, straight in the gut now half f
illed with his wife’s tasty delicacies. The man’s expression changed while he viewed him from the corner of his eye, and all one hundred and thirty five shades of red in existence took over the older man’s face within a snap of a finger. Saint even detected a slight sheen of perspiration…or maybe that was due to the kitchen growing increasingly hotter from all the cooking.

  “Yeah…you got anything else to say, pops?” Saint glugged his soup down as if he had no manners whatsoever. He tipped the bowl higher in the air, making sure to catch every morsel that remained in the bowl, causing Xenia to shoot him a look of confusion as she continued to eat. He noticed she still had some leftovers and debated on begging her for the rest of bounty.

  “No. Not at this time.” Osaze kept his voice low, almost timid, barely making its existence known like a bird hopping across the floor wearing cotton ball house shoes. It was more than apparent he didn’t want to rock the love boat that Saint had set out to sail. Saint couldn’t let it go though; this was too juicy of a development to simply allow to waste away, growing stale and moldy as the moments passed. So, to preserve the modesty of the dear Kyung Mi, he sent a telepathic message to his old man, his tone in bold, vibrant print.

  “Yeah, I saw your stash, Pop. Niiiiiice.” Saint clicked his tongue, swayed a bit in his seat as if he were going to break out in a dance. “You should keep that in your bedroom.”

  “You should mind your own business.”

  “I have a tip for your sex life, if you’re willing to finally hear it.”

  “I don’t want to hear anything that you could possibly offer me!”

  “…I’ll tell ya anyway. Why don’t you ask her to use the vibrator in front of you? And…why don’t you use the vibrator on her while you make love to her sometimes? That’s all I’m saying.”

  The man grew suddenly quiet. His telepathic thoughts drew cold as he shot a serious look at Kyung Mi who wasn’t paying either of them any attention. Saint grinned so much on the inside that he felt his face almost split. The old man was definitely interested.