Saint And Sinners: The King Angel Child of New York

by Tiana Laveen

  “Hassani and I are goin’ ice skating. He ain’t tell you?” Angel smirked. Saint wanted to cold clock the boy, but then he felt Xenia’s stare on him and pulled himself together.

  “Hi, Angel,” she said sweetly as she took Isis back into possession. The little girl touched her new borrowed crown, a big smile on her face as if she were the Queen of England. “Yes, he’s ready. I’ll go get him, hold on.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Aknaten,” Angel said in a syrupy sweet tone, nauseating Saint to no end. He reminded Saint of Eddie Haskell from, ‘Leave it to Beaver’—The ‘Hood’ edition. The boy smiled so hard, his dimples practically caved in his entire face.

  Saint waited until Xenia was out of sight, then pushed his finger in Angel’s face.

  “If you try anything slick, devious, I swear…” then Saint sniffed around him and grinned. “You haven’t smoked today. That’s good.” He nodded in approval.

  “I haven’t smoked in three days. Why you think I’m jumpin’ around like this?!”

  “Three?! You just busted yourself! I told you to stay off that stuff weeks ago!” Saint sprang his finger in his face. “I’m not playing with you, Angel. You have one more time to slip up!”

  “Maaaaaan.” The boy dramatically rolled his eyes. “This is a process, Mr. Aknaten,” he said sarcastically. “Work with a man. This shit takes time!”

  “I’m not going to tell your ass again to stop cursin’ in my house, and I’m not your man!” Saint looked him squarely in the eye, but Angel appeared completely unmoved. He wanted to laugh so badly, but he couldn’t allow Angel to know the little ruffian was worming his way into his heart.

  “Oh, and good lookin’ out.” He raised his hand in the air to give Saint a pound handshake. Saint complied and nodded. “My new foster home is real cool, man. They live closer to the school. It’s a white lady and her old man, but they cool. She cook pretty good, too. Usually white people don’t season their shit, I mean, stuff.”

  It was becoming harder and harder to not burst out laughing as they waited for Hassani.

  “I’m doin’ better in school now, too.”

  “That’s because you all are on Christmas Break. Can’t get in trouble if you’re not there,” Saint teased.

  “Even before that. I haven’t gotten suspended in a while. That’s good too, ’cause now my grades are up.”

  Saint could tell Angel was now vying for his approval. The boy was at least attempting to do right; the least he could do was cut him a little slack. He wrapped his arm around Angel’s shoulder and looked at him closely.

  “I’m proud of you. I really am.”

  Angel nodded and abruptly turned away, evidently not wanting the man to make a big production about it. Just then, Hassani came racing around the corner, with Xenia, Isis and Dakarai not far behind. He was dressed in a thick, layered red and gray coat, his gloves and scarf on, as well as his new wool hat.

  “I’m ready!” He smiled gleefully. It almost broke Saint’s heart how his son lit up with the type of smile he believed should be only reserved for him, but now he realized he had to share the limelight; someone else occupied the little boy’s heart, and Saint had never been good at sharing. Pushing his envy aside, he walked Hassani to the door.

  “Angel, I want you both back here in two hours. No later, do you hear me? If you are more than five minutes late, I’ll be calling you, and it won’t be a nice phone call, either!” he barked as the boys busted out the front door.

  “I got it! Hey, can we get some money, man? I mean! Sorry,” Angel shook his head as if he were really broken up about slipping again. “Can we get a little cash to get some cocoa ’nd stuff?”

  Full of forced disgust, Saint plunged his hand in his pocket and removed his wallet. He opened it up, waved Hassani over and thrust a twenty-dollar bill in his hand.

  “And I want my change, too! That cocoa only costs three dollars a piece!” he hollered after them as they made a hasty retreat.

  “I gotta keep the rest for my finder’s fee and gas money!” Angel laughed without looking back, as if he’d gotten one over.

  “You don’t drive, you little punk! I’ll beat the change out of you if I have to! You’ll be like five gold dimes and a half a nickel—impossible to find and a mystery on how you were split in two. Remember my name, ragamuffin!” The boys ran off, laughing.

  “Saint!” Xenia reprimanded with a frown. “How dare you talk to that little boy like that!” She slapped her leg in emphasis.

  “What?! I’m just playing, Xenia…he knows it!” Saint slowly closed the door, knowing he’d been serious but now trying to cover it up.

  “Mmmm hmmm.” She rolled her eyes and turned away. “I’m going to start dinner.”

  “A Daddy!” Dakarai called out. “What’s a pussy finger?”

  “What?!” Xenia stopped in her tracks and covered Isis’ ears. Saint figured it was instinct. The woman shot a disapproving glance at Saint and marched away with their daughter in tow.

  “I know you aren’t blaming me for this, Xenia!” Saint called out, his hands on his hips. She didn’t respond and before he knew it, she was completely out of sight.

  “What are you talking about, Dakarai. Where did you hear that?” Saint asked calmly.

  Dakarai turned bright red.

  “Reading minds again…” Saint grimaced.

  “Nuh uh, Daddy! Dat’s not how I know.”

  “Well, spill it.”

  “Angel said it when he was over here last week, when we was playin’ basketball in the playroom. He told me to stop throwin’ the ball all sloppy at him, that I was gonna fuck up his pussy finger.”

  “Don’t let me ever hear you use the f word again, do you hear me?!”

  “…Yes, Daddy. I was just repeatin’ what—”

  “I know what you were doing…and we both know you just wanted to say it. Well, wasn’t that very kind of Angel to teach you that.” Saint dramatically rolled his eyes but before he could respond to Dakarai’s inquiry, his cell phone rang. “Hold that thought, Day-Day. “…Hello?”

  “Saint! Traci is in labor!” Jagger screamed into the phone, the man seeming more than beside himself from the cracking, loud tone of his voice.

  “But she’s only seven and a half months. Shit! Okay man, try to be easy. Relax…calm down…we’re on our way!”

  *

  Chapter Forty-One

  Jagger stood in Mt. Sinai Hospital, rubbing his fingers nearly raw. Before Saint, Lawrence and Donna could even get inside the place, Traci was fully dilated and had given birth to a five pound, ten ounce baby girl. He saw the tiny child, and broke out into hysterical tears. She was so beautiful, so petite, and fighting for her damn life. Saint and the rest of his friends stood in the waiting room. Jagger’s mother was on her way, as well as Traci’s parents, too. His world was completely spinning. No one saw this coming, had no clue that his baby girl, now named Justice Simone, would be on ventilators due to her early arrival.

  He decided to leave Traci’s side once she fell asleep and joined the small group. Xenia popped up first, racing towards him and giving him a warm hug and kiss on the cheek.

  “How is she doing, Jagger? And Justice?” He could tell she’d been crying. Xenia was so sensitive to others; it was one of the things he really loved about her.

  “Traci is fine, she did a great job. Uh…” He ran his fingers over his buzzed hair, trying to not lose his train of thought and speak coherently. “Justice is—”

  “She’ll be breathing on her own soon,” Saint interjected as he sat slumped in his chair, his hands folded and staring down at the ground. “I just picked up on it… She’s going to be fine.” Everyone sighed with relief. Xenia took Jagger by the hand and led him towards their tented out section of the lounge where they’d conducted a stake out, equipped with hot coffee, stale honey buns, the low roar of a soap opera, and the occasional magazine placed here and there.

  “You know I had Dakarai early, right?” Xenia began as she conti
nued to hold his hand.

  “I forgot, actually.” Jagger squeezed her fingers a bit tighter.

  “I was scared out of my mind, Jagger. And you see him now, he is perfectly fine! He’s still small, but that’s just how he’s built. It has nothing to do with him being born prematurely.”

  Saint grinned as if he knew a secret.

  “What?’ Jagger asked, smiling at him, needing to know anything the man knew, anything to continue to put his mind at ease.

  “I had a dream,” Saint stated as he looked up into Jagger’s eyes. “It was some time ago, not long after we moved here.” He cleared his throat and set his cup of hot tea down. “I saw all of my children as adults.” Saint waved his hand in the air and looked off into the distance, as if floating in a daydream. “Dakarai was the biggest.” He chuckled. “He wasn’t as tall as Hassani, but he looked like…well, hell, like you, Jagger!” Saint cracked up. “Just straight muscle busting out everywhere, healthy, strong as an ox.”

  “You never told me this,” Xenia said softly with a smile as she glanced at her husband.

  Saint nodded. “It was mine, my little gift I suppose but under the circumstances, I wanted to let Jagger know that, so he can continue to have faith Justice is a trooper.”

  They all sat down, held hands and bowed their head in silent prayer but before they could finish, a nurse walked in.

  “Is there a Mr. Jagger Stagliano here?”

  He immediately got to his feet, wiping his sweaty palms on the front of his stiff jeans.

  “Your daughter is doing just fine. We just spoke to your wife, woke her up to tell her the good news. Justice is off the ventilator but we’d like to observe her for at least another forty-eight hours. Thus far, her heart rate is excellent. She is breathing a little fast, but other than that, she is doing quite well. If she checks out fine, and nurses give the okay, we can release her in your care but we require a home visit one week afterward.”

  “Of course! Of course, thank you!” He swiped a tear away. The nurse smiled kindly and walked away. Before he could turn back to the crowd, Donna was giving him a large hug and everyone stood on their feet.

  “I wonder if we can see her? Look through the window?” Xenia questioned as she ran her hands together, no doubt itching to get to that baby. He watched Saint smirk and take his wife by the hand, leading her out of the lobby. Jagger and the rest were not far behind. There Justice lay…in the front, a crocheted pink bow around her peach-colored face. Her eyes were closed as she slept peacefully, her tiny stomach moving up and down and her head covered in dark brown hair, spiked up all over her head.

  “Oh my God!” Xenia rested her trembling hands on the glass. “She’s gorgeous, Jagger! She looks like you and Traci, both.”

  Jagger nodded proudly in agreement.

  “She’s beautiful, Jagger. Congratulations.” Saint offered in a solemn voice as he stood behind his wife, placing his arms around her waist and resting his chin on the top of her head.

  Next came Donna, who peered down and did a rather strange inspection of sorts, as if the baby were some sort of science experiment to chart and observe.

  “Yes, I believe this is a good match.” She looked sternly at the baby, peering from various angles. “I’m not psychic, but I think she’ll make a good wife for our son. You have my blessing.”

  Jagger practically choked on his own spit.

  “What?!”

  *

  Saint removed the large olive green bowl of clam chowder from the table, and heard Xenia in the near distance, on the phone with someone. The children were making so much noise, they sounded like they were a three-person parade.

  “Pam, so…” He wasn’t sure what to say and how to say it, so his words simply began and drifted into space, with no structure and no ending. The woman’s bags were packed by her side and she looked downtrodden and disturbed as she ran her fingers reflectively over the edge of the table cloth. “I suppose this is goodbye for now.” He took a seat beside her. “We’ll see you soon, though. Besides, Ira is home now and Xenia will be flying out next week to see her brother.”

  “I know… It’s just, this is hard for me. I know I got into a little trouble at Macy’s, but I got lucky and got out of the store as soon as the rain stopped without anyone seeing me. Xenia been a bit perturbed with me ever since…I think that’s why she don’t want me to stay. I guess I worry her to much.”

  He’d never seen Pam look so serious, so dejected. He took her hand, wrapped it in his.

  “You know you happy to see me go.” She pouted.

  “No I’m not, Pam. I love you and you are so good with my children. They love you so much and we will all miss you. I had no idea you were thinking of moving here, but I think Xenia is right, Mama Pam.”

  “Of course you do.” She rolled her eyes, moved her hand from his and folded them over her lap. “Xenia say it ain’t good for me to be in all this cold at my age, and me moving here isn’t a good idea.” She spoke softly, something Saint wasn’t accustomed to.

  “Mama Pam, for right now, let’s just get you back home and who knows?” He shrugged. “Maybe a few years from now, you moving here would be perfect! Maybe Porsche and her daughter and even Ira can come too, if they want!” He threw up his hands, emphasizing the possibility.

  “Yeah…maybe.” She continued to sulk.

  “How about this?” He scooted in closer to her, wrapping his arm around her chair. “How about every two months, like clockwork, I fly you down for one week? You can stay with us or go back to your most favorite hotel.”

  He saw her fight a smile and lose.

  “We will have it pre-scheduled, and that way, you kind of get the best of both worlds. Does that sound like a plan?”

  She looked into his eyes and nodded. “Yes it does. I’d like that. I could go for that. I must admit, this winter here in the Big Apple has been ruthless. I’m not used to weather like this. I do miss my friends, too. I miss my granddaughter and Porsche. Ira just got back there last night, so I need to go home and see my son…ain’t seen him in so long.” She wiped a tear away. “I talked to him on the phone last night. He wants to meet you, see his nieces and nephews.”

  “Well, now that he is out of the military, he can come with you when you return in a couple of months. I’d like to meet him as well; he and I have a lot of catching up to do. Come on now, give me a hug! Don’t make me beg.”

  He smiled widely and got to his feet. After a few hesitant seconds, his mother-in-law joined him, placing her big, warm arms around him, making him feel comfy and cozy. The woman tapped his back and pressed her head against his shoulder.

  “Thank you for taking such good care of my baby, Saint. And bein’ a good father. Men like you ain’t common. I’m glad she has you.” Saint stroked her back in return.

  “That’s very nice of you to say, Mama Pam.”

  “It’s true. And Saint?”

  “Yes?”

  “I have a very important question…”

  “And I’ll try my best to answer.” He hugged her a bit tighter.

  “Since you’re a doctor, I figure with your fancy degree, you may know this!”

  Saint braced himself.

  “I been thinking about getting on a diet, losing some weight. I thought about swimming as a way to get active. Is swimming a good exercise for someone like me?”

  “Yes, it is! That sounds very good, Mama Pam. It’s a low impact exercise and can be done indoors, all year round and can also be a stress reliever.”

  “Yeah, but one thing bothers me.”

  “What’s that?” Saint crossed his arms and waited. Maybe she wasn’t going to say something ridiculous after all. The woman was trying to better her quality of life.

  “I was thinking, this may be a waste of time though.”

  “Why would you think that? You haven’t even begun, give it a try.”

  “Why? I’ll tell you why! ‘Cause whales is mammals just like us, and they swim around all damn day,
and they still big as hell! Move outta my way, Saint.” She abruptly brushed him aside, as if he were to blame for all of her woes. “I’m goin’ in your kitchen to fix me some pancakes, eggs and some of that turkey bacon Xenia buys before you drive me to the damn airport. I don’t know why they gave you a damn degree, Saint!”

  He smirked, shook his head and rolled his eyes.

  “I got a PhD in common sense! It tells me that I will die fat but happy but that’s something you wouldn’t understand, you green smoothie, kale chip, bean curd eatin’ mothafucka!”

  *

  “You gotta tip it, man!” Jagger chuckled as he stood under the large chrome chandelier in the dining room explaining the correct way to pour a freshly uncorked bottle of Dom Perignon. Saint’s home glittered with gold and silver tinsel, while Xenia and Traci playfully bounced around blowing their black and white New Year’s Eve horns. A steady beat of music played throughout the place, but not too loud—a newborn was on board. Donna cradled the sleeping wee one while her son played happily against her shoulder with a paper towel remnant. Oh, how the cardboard roll was so much fun to toy with. Isis peered lovingly over the woman’s arm, staring down at little Justice. Her eyes glowed bright as she pointed at the baby and smiled, in love with her little ‘play cousin’ already. Roman and his wife and daughter sat on a nearby loveseat flipping through a thick, glossy paged photo album Xenia had painstakingly put together one cold evening. It was scrapbooked to perfection, with all the perfect frills, sparkly stickers and colorful boarders one could ever wish for.

  Dakarai was showing off in front of Angel, flexing his muscle after scooting his bright red sweater up his arm just so.

  “See! I gotta muscle right dere!” His brows bunched as he tried to be as convincing as possible, almost bursting a vein while he flexed that little over-cooked noodle with all of his might. His tongue slicked out the side of his mouth, a serious grimace took over his face, and Angel covered his quaking lips, trying to hide his laughter at the poor little boy.

  “Yeah man… I see it.”

  Angel gripped a can of Sprite and seemed to be taking it all in. Saint was convinced the boy had never witnessed a family like this before. Matter of fact, Angel hadn’t been in a real family that showed care and love towards one another probably since the day he was born. The youngster leaned against the wall, took another swallow of his drink, then made his way up to Hassani who was whispering on the phone.