by Tiana Laveen
“I need to know how to protect myself and my family from him. I believe I understand what I have to do, but I cannot allow my actions to cause a domino effect, where my family is harmed in any way, shape or form. This is not like in Egypt… This is more like…more like damn gang warfare…this shit reminds me of Westside Story.”
“Yes, that would be an accurate analogy. Koki does not wish to receive anything from you, and I’m sure once the time comes, he will explain that to you.”
“…Because he has to give full disclosure to me regarding his purpose and nature.”
“Precisely. It is the demonic code. Once you ask, he must reveal his identity and place in your world, or your place in his, however one wishes to look at it. Koki comes from a long line of what we call fog blood.”
“Fog blood?” Saint’s curiosity went on an elevator and up a floor or two.
“Fog blood is an illusion. It morphs and pretends to be other things, tricking the senses. Like you, he was created by his father’s seed and placed in his mother’s womb; only, his kiss was the kiss of death, not life. Koki is an intelligent human being. You see, like you, he had no choice in what he was. But…he did have the choice to live it out. Demon Children do not have to act as they are originally designed for. The same with Angel Children.” The old man paused briefly, his body stiffened as he glared at nothing in particular.
“A perfect example is your father and his father before him. They did not utilize their powers for years. Matter of fact, they pretended as if they did not exist. Many of us choose that path for a myriad reasons. However, the multi tiered ones do not have it as easy, thus it is less likely that will occur. These are not powers one can simply ignore or deny. Each power added makes the Angel Child stronger. Their strength determines why they were designed from the Almighty Creator.”
Saint wrinkled his nose when he caught a whiff of something foul. His eyes narrowed, he peered at a garbage truck covered in tarry muck, its giant iron jaws nosily clamped down on squashed plastic bottles, black bags filled with soiled diapers, rotten banana peels and other debris. After swallowing everything whole, the damn thing shut. Silence was rendered.
“There are consequences contingent upon the choice, in whichever way they and we decide—but we have a choice, nevertheless. Koki could have selected a different path as soon as he had the knowledge there were two sides, yet, he refused. Koki is soulless, so in some ways it would have been a hard transition, but even the soulless can make attempts at kindness, for they have to rely on intelligence to see them through.
“A wise man knows that kindness, not pain, is what brings the world peace, but if peace were not the mission, then one would choose the latter. Saint, it is much easier to do what is wrong than what is right. Wrong is simpler and gives immediate gratification. Right sometimes requires the sacrifice of oneself for the greater good. He is psychically strong, Saint. He knows each and every person’s weaknesses, fears and greatest desires. He is the right hand of the devil.” Krishna tarried and looked gravely at Saint, his dark eyes turning into gleaming slits. “He is evil. He is utilitarian. He no longer knows light, goodness or righteousness.
“He no longer knows love or wishes to receive, give or witness its magnificence. Up until about the age of seven, Koki was able to stand in both worlds. He made his choice. Yet still, he remembers enough about goodness to use it to his advantage to manipulate and hurt others. Do not be confused or fooled. Koki, and people like him, are not demons—they are Demon Children…just like you are an Angel Child. Saint, you have command over the demons. You do not have command over Demon Children, thus, you will be contested. His spiritual parents are infamous and central royal demons. I shall not speak their names, but if you ask him, he will tell you.”
“Why is this my first time hearing about such things? I knew Angel Children could turn sour. Case in point, Jagger’s father and my cousin. But I didn’t know there is even more to this. How am I supposed to fight a Demon Child?” He chortled drearily and threw up his hands. “I talk a good game, but this is beyond my expertise; not to mention, they outnumber us.”
“You’re a quick learner; it is one of your greatest assets. You also think fast on your feet. That is important for your survival. One man can wipe out thousands with the right information and strategy, Saint. It is not the number; it is the power, wisdom and psychic strength. Despite Koki’s horrid existence, he cannot be hated for what he is, only for what he does. Thus, detest his legacy, not his DNA. There are checks and balances.”
“One doesn’t exist without the other…”
“Precisely. Love and hatred are siblings, some would even say bedmates. Pain and pleasure are joined.” Krishna pushed his fingertips together, forming an oval. “One cannot understand the totality of the concept without experiencing the polar opposite. You live and breathe this truth.”
Saint nodded in understanding; he’d explained the same in many different ways over the years.
“Now, how you protect your family is to protect yourself. You must be vigilant. They always go after that which we love most, our weaknesses. Your weakness is your wife and your family.”
“Yes. This is true.”
“He will be creative, come up with ways to entice you and create havoc within and around you. The most notorious Demon Children cause internal and external strife. If you fall for their tricks, you will spiritually black out. They are the chief designers of detrimental rebellion and ultimately, death.”
The sting of the trash still stung his nostrils, though now, they were a block away. How could one vehicle be so malodorous?
Why can I still smell it?
He pushed the thoughts away to continue on with his questioning of Krishna, to try to jam pack as much into their time together as he could. The man would have to leave soon, so he had to make the most of this for once he was gone, he was gone.
“Is my son acting out due to this Krishna? Is there some sort of influence over him as we speak? Please…” Saint said in a pleading tone. On one hand, he wanted to snatch his son up by the collar and ring him like a church bell; on the other, his heart broke and bled for his baby’s plight.
“No. Your eldest child is responding to an internal crisis. It is typical. Just as you endured as a child, Saint, he endures as well. He is you, and you were him.”
“I…I thought he and I were close, though.” Saint shoved his fingers into his jacket pockets and lowered his head, as if a cool breeze were getting the best of him. “I thought we had a good relationship, that he knew he could come to me about everything.”
There, Saint said it. In no uncertain terms, he felt he’d failed Hassani miserably. He never wanted their relationship to be like his and his father’s when he was a boy. Calling that a relationship was actually insulting. A relationship consisted of two people communicating and building together. No, Osaze and Saint had something…but a relationship back then? Not even close. He wanted his children to consider him approachable, to be aware the door was always open. There was nothing they could say or do to cause him to stop loving them. He may be disappointed in them from time to time as they grew older, but he’d always love them, no matter what.
He’d done everything in his power to prove to Hassani he would be a listening ear in his times of need. He tried hard, with all that he had within him, to create this dynamic. While he and Krishna continued to walk, he got a good, firm read on the boy. He could see exactly what was before him and around him. His son was off in a strange place with a strange boy in some dark tunnel, staring at spray-painted neon green sorcerers that glowed like the eyes of Halloween pumpkins, knights on vibrant golden horses with lustrous, rubicund eyes riding through the night, and detailed shoot-outs between horrific robots and Amazon women with huge, rounded breasts and asses shaped like inverted hearts. Whoever had created the art and was giving his son a tour was damn good…but he didn’t like the vibe, all the same.
“Saint, he is a child. You must remember you cann
ot stop all that will occur. Like you, he is a force to be reckoned with and needs to go his own path. He will need to make mistakes, suffer the consequences, learn his lessons and choose his own way. You have not failed him. He is learning about the world in which he lives and you have been an incredible father to him. He could not have asked for better, even had he fashioned you himself.”
Saint felt his cheeks flush with warmth. The compliment made his heart swell with pride, but it didn’t last long. The realization came right back, smacking him across the face like a wet fish out of a peaceful dream. Hassani was gone. Period, point blank. He was gaining his independence, creating a situation that would grow more and more serious. And what hurt the most, Krishna was correct. No matter how he wished it weren’t true, there were some things he couldn’t stop from happening to his offspring. It was their destiny.
“…Thank you. It still baffles me that he would do something like this, and repeatedly! He knows better. I am so…furious!” Saint gnashed his teeth as his damn eyes watered with angry tears. They approached another crosswalk.
“I understand,” Krishna responded reassuringly, gently patting his back. “You love him. You love all of your children very deeply. It is not the hooky per se that has upset you, it is that he felt he had to do such a thing. It is okay to be angry; just remember, his behavior at this moment is not an extension of you, and this is not an indication of your parenting skills. You must not fall into that trap. He is troubled and fighting forces around him the best way he knows how. He is fresh, new, and things seek him…some of which he doesn’t want.” The man’s face cracked with a grin. “You know, that’s actually a good way to describe Koki, as well. And you. You both attract good and evil. People like Koki, Saint. It works to his advantage…just like people like you.”
Just then, Saint’s phone rang. “Excuse me, Krishna,” he said, holding up a finger.
Saint took the call, noting how Krishna nodded and looked wearily down at the ground, seeming to know what was about to transpire before he did.
“Hi, baby…”
“Saint, Hassani isn’t at school!” she blurted.
Damn it!
Time had escaped Saint. It was time to pick up the boy from class and Xenia had already stated she’d do it that morning, since she’d be out that way. Having no worries about it, he hadn’t expected this monkey wrench to be cast into the middle of the storm. Now, he had to think fast.
“I know, baby. Are you there right now?”
“Yes, but more importantly, if you know, then where is he?!” He could hear the baby talking in the background…something about ice cream.
“He is with…a friend.” He refused to have her worked up even more than she currently was. “Look, I’m sorry, I forgot to tell you. Uh, I will get him. Everything is okay, alright?”
He heard her hesitancy, and then Isis blurt out the lyrics to the ‘Incy Wincy Spider’ song, singing at the top of her little lungs. He grinned, though he couldn’t fully rejoice in the moment. Lucky for him, it distracted his wife enough to concede.
“Okay…I’ll see you at the house.” She sighed.
“Yes you will, in the next hour or so. I love you…”
“I love you too, baby.” She disconnected the call.
Saint sighed, shoved his phone back in his pocket, then set his sights back on Krishna. A fresh, slow burn of anger crept up his body, taking over.
“Saint, you are too distracted to continue this conversation right now. I will make a proposal,” the old man began. “I will stay in town for two days. We will take that time to hash this out. Go to your son. I will find you again when the time comes.”
Without a word, Saint offered the man a firm hug, which he returned, then they parted ways. After a few steps, Saint paused and turned to look behind him. Krishna was nowhere in sight…but something caught his eye. A beautiful beast stood at the entranceway of a bar. Long, swaying braids flowed down her back, and a figure so exaggerated, like a black Jessica Rabbit—he couldn’t believe his eyes. She was utter and complete eye-candy, but a spiritual stench emanated from the center of her rotting core.
Fucking Demon Child…
Now, he knew what one looked like. Now he knew what temptation to taste something you hated felt like, too. This woman made him pause…made him for a brief second feel a tinge of lust. Regardless, she didn’t have a hold on him, and he could feel her intentions. That, in and of itself, sent him over the edge. It upset him so much, he began to march towards her. A smile cracked her face as he drew closer. He was going to have a word with her, tell her about herself and let her know how her spirit reeked, or at least the black pit in which it was supposed to reside. He was going to inform her that she was stinking up the joint…wanted to take out his frustrations on someone, and she’d do just fine. But then he stopped in his tracks…
My son…
Just then, her face seemed to burn with fury. She disappeared inside the place, slamming the door behind her. Saint shrugged, ran a palm over his forehead and headed back from whence he came. Once he arrived at his parked car, he hightailed it out of there, honking and cursing his way through the tight, bumper-to-bumper traffic.
Hassani is back at the school now, pretending he was there all along… I got something for his ass, and that little mothafucka he is hanging with, too!
*
Koki slicked his tongue across his bottom lip and smacked on the wad of gum. Gigi stood before him, her pussy barely covered and her long, braided hair draped over one shoulder. She gyrated, giving him a seductive dance, while he sat in the chair, rolling his eyes.
“I don’t feel like fucking, right now, Gigi.” He impatiently patted the arm of the chair. “Did he say anything? Shit.” He spit out a piece of foreign matter that had stuck to the tip of his tongue. “That’s all I want to know, Gigi.”
“No…” She pouted and slinked past him, falling onto the red sheets of her bed. Parting her legs, she exposed her crotch further, inviting him to take a taste, sample the wine that ran from between her thighs. “He looked like he was coming over, but then, he left. I could see in his eyes he was pissed about something. He definitely saw me, though.” She rotated her honey brown shoulders in sensuous moves, then reached for a gold tin filled with rolling papers and marijuana. “You want any?” she asked as she looked over at him, her full, succulent lips the color of freshly drawn blood.
“Nah, I’m good. Hmmm, interesting. I will need to go about this another way.”
“Sorry, Koki.”
“No need to apologize, Gigi.” He sighed, rose from his seat, and eyed her rolling a joint. Grinning, catching his reflection in the mirror above her bed. That mirror had captured their sexual antics so many times, he’d lost count. If he were able to love a woman, she might be a contender. But of course, fucking someone and having emotional attachments towards them were two separate things. Gigi wouldn’t make a good wife; she had jealous tendencies, would fly off the handle and at times, tried to pull rank. The other issue had nothing to do with her. Simply put, the thought of being tied down to one woman sickened Koki and besides, monogamy was overrated. She was a real wild cat though, a dedicated minx, down for the cause. He lingered there, running his hands along the length of the gun in his pocket while the dark purple candles flickered, their flames bowing down to him. The shiny metal gave him a hard on as he sucked his teeth and debated blowing her fucking brains out. She’d failed after all, but the poor thing didn’t even know it.
Nah, I might be able to use her later. Besides, she’s a good fuck. No sense in burning that bridge just yet.
“Koki.”
“Yeah?” He paused.
“Don’t think I didn’t know he may have killed me. He looked mad, real mad.”
“So what? What’s your point?” He shrugged.
“He’s dangerous. You should’ve seen him. I could smell him, too… He’s sweet, like someone doused him in perfume. It made my stomach hurt. Please don’t send me after him ag
ain, to deliver messages, nothing.”
The bitch was grating his very last nerve.
“You’re not making any rules or regulations, Gigi. You do what I fucking tell you to do, you understand me?!”
She turned away, looked down into her tin can of ashes and weed. Her slanted hazel eyes could be seen in the bedroom headboard reflection, warped and gold, soft and delicate, like her ass cheeks, perched up high in the air.
“I told you, he is far less likely to kill a woman. He has this Casanova, Pussy Savior persona.” He shot off a crooked grin, trying to regain his cool.
“I thought you loved me,” she whispered, her lips drawn into a pouty bow.
“I don’t. I love no one, and you know that. I’m incapable. We’ve already been through this.”
That was another issue with Gigi. She listened to her heart far too often, became embroiled in emotions. Some of the female Demon Children got this way. It was a terrible ordeal. Though less emotional than female Angel Children and civilians, they sometimes would convince themselves they knew what love looked like, smelled like, and felt like. Gigi didn’t know what the fuck it was, she only wished she did…and she wished she did with him.
“…Sent me out to the wolf all by myself,” she whined.
“He’s not a wolf, he’s a man, just like everybody else in this damn place that you’ve fucked over, beside, above and under, hundreds of times. Swallow the shit like cum and move the hell on, goddamn.” He slipped a cigarette out of his pocket and quickly lit it with the strike of his baby fingernail.
“Swallow the shit like cum?” She issued a maniacal laugh. “Koki, you aren’t shit, you know that?”
“I do.” He winked at her, squinted his eye and blew out the flame.
“Others may be afraid to tell you just what you are, but I’m not. You’ve got everyone fooled but me.”
“I’m not trying to fool anyone, Gigi. And that’s a fact. I’m just being me.” He pointed proudly to himself. “If you don’t like how I run things, you can always bounce. No one is begging you to stay with me. I sure as hell won’t lose any sleep over it. You came to me all those years ago, remember? Not the other way around.”