by Tiana Laveen
“Well, you’ve been quite generous, Saint, and I appreciate it.”
Saint burst out laughing and fell back onto the pillow. He heard Donna chuckle.
“What?” she asked, a smile in her tone.
Saint straightened back up. “You’ve just never been this nice to me before. I must be dreaming.”
She rolled her eyes, but those orbs danced with mirth. “Anyway, you want something to eat? It will be ready in about thirty minutes or so. I have to make the cornbread.”
“Do I want some? Does a kitten want a bowl of milk?! Hell yes!” He grinned.
Donna cracked a grin. “I will set the table for three.” She stood and disappeared into the kitchen.
“So.” Lawrence reached for his own Snapple, Mango Madness, popped it open and took a big swig of his already half consumed beverage. “What’s going on with you? Last I heard, you and Krishna had a long talk…two to be exact.” He smirked.
“Don’t act like you don’t know what happened. You know what he told me.”
“Well…” He took another sip. “I do now.”
“And you’re not surprised?”
“Saint.” Lawrence sighed. “The only one surprised is you. Everyone else knew you were destined to lead, and not just the conferences. I mean, that’s great, it’s important, and thank goodness you do them, but there is more to you than that.”
Saint kept quiet for a while and popped the top off of his half lemonade, half tea Snapple. He took a long, hard, swallow.
“I don’t want to talk about Koki. I don’t want to talk about shit right now.”
“Yes you do, I mean, not necessarily about Koki, but you want to talk or you wouldn’t be here.”
He went quiet again as he re-crossed his legs and looked down at his hands.
“I feel lost, Lawrence. I feel like I’m losing myself. I feel…volatile. Out of control. I’m getting pissed off at the drop of a dime, blowing my top. Inside, I am boiling with anger.” Saint’s eyes glossed over as he set his bottle down and pointed to his gut. “It’s like, a part of me doesn’t want any part of this…running New York. That sounds so crazy to me. But…the other part of me knows it’s my destiny, and that part wants to run this shit with an iron fist. I used to hate physical confrontations as a child. Now, I almost live for it.
“That disturbs me, Lawrence. A part of me, shit…I don’t know.” He shook his head. “I just don’t understand myself anymore. A part of me, you know, doesn’t want to find anyone, wants to be just left the hell alone…but then, the Saint that enjoys terrorizing people wants to decapitate this son of a bitch with my bare hands! I want to rid the world of this shit…this horrible shit that makes people lose their minds. Getting rid of Koki won’t solve this though…it won’t.”
“Well, in a sense that is true and in another sense, it is not. You see, Saint, you dealing with Koki sends a message. It lets the Demon Children know that you are here and what you are capable of. It keeps them in line, at least for a period of time. It is the only way. They won’t stop simply because you say to stop. They only understand force. Even God himself, as the story goes, had to cast Lucifer out of heaven. That was not a word of advice; it was a direct action because that is all he could understand. Koki is demonically possessed and there is no curing him.”
Right then, with those words, Lawrence stole Saint’s hopes and dreams right from underneath him. He was wishing deep within there could be some way to keep from annihilating the man, a way to get the fiend to behave. It would be a fierce fight, and this he knew without setting eyes on the brute; Koki was simply not going to lie down and take it. Worse of all, just as Krishna explained, Koki was merely doing his job. Despite it being evil and devastating for others, he was designed to do exactly what he was doing. You can’t hate a serpent for being a snake, or an angel for being angelic. As Krishna told him—you must hate the actions, not the entity. Nevertheless, religious texts explained and encouraged the hatred of Satan, for he was the ruler and creator of all that was wrong with the world. Satan was not created to do as he was doing; however…they were not the same. In that, Saint had a new understanding.
“…Saint, the move, your marriage, Hassani, the Rainbeau Knights, setting up our new place, everything is just starting to take its toll on you.”
“But my marriage isn’t in trouble.” Saint felt himself becoming a bit defensive, though he knew deep down what the man was digging at. Was it really that obvious? Nevertheless, he continued his protest. “It’s stronger than ever.”
“In some aspects, yes, in others, you have concerns. Something is going on with you and Xenia. Do you know where this new spurring of jealousy is coming from?”
“Did Jagger tell you about the guy at the disco party for the—”
“No. Jagger told me nothing about what happened at Raphael’s party that we unfortunately could not attend, but word travels fast. In any case, this move wasn’t just about you being homesick, needing to expand the Knights as well. That was part of it, but not all. This also has to do with your marriage, Saint. Your Queen…the very person you care for most in the whole world. She is here to be indoctrinated. In a way, like the gang warfare, Saint, she is being ‘jumped in’ if you will. She was not able to fulfill her destiny in L.A., either.”
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 12th 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.”