Saint And Sinners (108 page)

“I was a skinny waif, but I was strong too…yet I knew better to try to swing on my
mama. She would have knocked me out.” More laughter from the crowd—music to her ears.
“But, she looked me in the eye and for the first time in years, I saw my mother cry.
Tears just poured down her face, and my heart broke. I knew I was the cause of it.
She said to me, ‘Xenia, you are good at so many things. I wish you saw the good in
you that I see.’ And then, she threw me down, walked away and slammed her bedroom
door. I sat there for a long while… The next day, I decided that instead of officially
joining the Bloods, as I was supposed to, I was going to go to broadcasting school.
You see, I loved listening to the radio, I loved music, you know? But what I loved
about listening to the radio the most were the sensual voices that would come over
the airwaves for song dedications. I wanted to experience that, to know what it felt
like to tell the world that two people were madly in love and that one particular
song made them feel as if they were together, though distance was currently between
them.

“I’d always been told I had a nice voice. I used to hate my voice, because it was
kinda deep for a girl, and it has a rasp to it, like I’ve been smoking.” She chuckled.
“But, as I got older, I discovered the fellas loved it, and I thought, maybe that’s
my ticket out of here? Grandma used her looks to get paid. Mama used her hands. Maybe,
just maybe, I could use my voice? So, I did. I took a chance and went to broadcasting
school and not only did I love it, I excelled! I thought at that time, life could
get no better. I graduated, got a job right off the bat and then, like clockwork;
the new jobs kept coming until I had my very own syndicated show.

“I thought, well, I’m going to help the community now. I’m going to give back. I knew
what it was like to not get the love you were looking for. Mama couldn’t give it to
me. She couldn’t suddenly morph into my father, you see? I was a little black girl
with no protection. I was in a single parent home where at times thieves would get
inside our domain and rob my mother. Drug addiction was running rampant, and these
people would come in the house, alarm system or not, and I’d literally be in my bed
shaking like a leaf as I watched shadows in the living room, and hear things being
turned over. My mother got a gun, and had to pull it on two intruders. She hated that.
She didn’t want to keep guns anymore after she decided to not be active with the Bloods
anymore, but she had to consider our protection. Sometimes a mother has to do what
a mother has to do…” She shot a hard, cold stare at Saint before returning her focus
to the crowd.

“It was a hard time for me, but there were good times, too. Like developing into a
young lady, meeting boys and dating.” She grinned. “I was popular in school, despite
my affiliations. I was a B average student, A’s in Math, and I enjoyed school very
much. I got a lot of attention, so I believed I would have no problem finding a husband
when I was ready to settle down. So, after broadcasting school and my own show, I
felt like I was on my way. Well, I was wrong. Yeah, I met a lot of men, Queens. Some
were celebrities, I’ve dated a few… Most were just your ordinary Joe. I had pulled
myself out of some mess and turned my mush into magnificence, but…something
still
wasn’t connecting; something was missing! I went from one relationship to the next,
over and over and over! It was exhausting. I’d try to make them work, but they never
did! I had long term relationships, and then, I’d eventually have to pull the plug
because whoever I was with, well…” She shrugged. “I’d realize it wasn’t going anywhere.

“I looked at myself and thought, ‘Xenia, you are famous! You have a thriving career,
your own home, a cute dog, you work out, you can cook, you take care of yourself,
you don’t look half bad, your teeth are clean.” This last statement caused some chuckling.
“I had to ask myself,
What is it about me that is causing this situation?! Why am I attracting the same
man, just with a different face?
The lying, cheating or just plain commitment-phobe… It went on and on. I never felt
like I needed a man, but I did
want
companionship. I also wanted to get married and have a family. I wanted what I didn’t
have, just like my mother, and her mother, too. It seemed as if it were some sort
of family curse.

“And you know what, Queens? That’s what our mentality, as black women, is kind of
like. Not only do we suffer with Blackistan gang warfare, but we are suffering from
an emotional curse placed upon us by society as a whole, due to us being black and
female. It’s not a real curse, although we have it in our minds. But then, I must
ask you, is a
real
curse or one that is
only
in your mind any different?” She paused. “Probably not. For they have the same lasting
effects. What we
believe
,” she said pointing two fingers at herself as she stared out into the audience, “is
what we
become
. We curse ourselves, Queens. We curse ourselves when we allow others to dictate what
we can and cannot do.

“When we are told that we are worthless and we believe it, we curse ourselves. When
we are told we must only date black men and then we follow suit, lessening our possibilities
to find a truly compatible mate, we curse ourselves, Goddesses. When we allow our
worth to be dictated by another person, we curse ourselves, women. There is truly
a gang war going on, and some of it is completely internal. One side of us tells us,
‘No, no, don’t do this! Listen to all the naysayers!’ The other side screams, ‘Take
a chance! Live your life!’ And…it becomes a battle. Will we
succumb
to what is comfortable because it is all we know? Will you stay a Blood or a Crip
because that is what society expects of you? Will you destroy yourself,” she said,
pointing out into the audience, “to make someone else feel more comfortable? Will
you do that? Or, did you step away, did you take a leap of faith, did you declare
yourself un-cursed, did you leave the gang, throw down your colors and reject the
notion that you are any less down for the cause, simply because you
choose
to edify yourself with all that God has available to you?! God didn’t create only
poppies and tulips. He created roses, daffodils, petunias, daises, irises, lilies,
carnations, and the list is endless! Why are you
not
allowed to sniff and smell those, too? Why can’t you enjoy them as well?! Saint is
a hybrid rose.”

People clapped and giggled.

“And he is the perfect one for
me
.” She jabbed herself in the chest with her index finger. “Had I only stuck with hyacinth
I would have never known how sweet and wonderful the garden could truly be! The world,
ladies, is
your
garden. Many of you ventured out and saw the vast array of possibilities. They are
all beautiful in their own right. Some of you, however, are here tonight, because
you are still clinging to that one, lonely, withered rose.” She didn’t miss how some
women in the audience dabbed at their eyes with a tissue, and lowered their heads.

“That rose is dead. Now, you can keep going to the same garden, looking for a replacement,
and that is your prerogative, or you can look a bit beyond the horizon, and see that
there are many choices to chose from, and what is so amazing is, those flowers
want
you to pluck them from the ground and give them a chance to make you smile. Won’t
you stop and smell the yellow roses? The pink ones and the orange ones, too? Won’t
you push your fears aside, refusing to be branded, labeled and controlled? As I said,
and I want to drive this point home, I was
still
in a gang, and didn’t even know it!

“Some of you are married to Rainbeaus, but still in a gang, too! You remain in the
gang when you co-sign racist antics. You remain in the gang when you say, ‘I’ll marry
a Rainbeau but won’t have his children because of possible backlash from outsiders.’
You
remain
in the gang when you say, ‘I am only married to a Rainbeau because black men rejected
me or turned their backs on me!’ That flower you plucked deserves to know that you
chose it because
you
found it beautiful! Not because all the black roses were sold out at the shop or
withered from your touch!”

Saint smiled sadly and crossed his ankles as he nodded in agreement.

“Ladies, you remain in the gang when you deny to others that you’ve always been attracted
to Rainbeaus. So, I’m done lying, too. That half Mexican boy with the mom that made
the delicious strawberry cookies? Yeah, well, that was my first kiss. I was in the
fifth grade, and he asked me for a kiss so I leaned over and kissed that cute little
guy on the mouth.” People burst out laughing. “I did it, and I liked it.” This caused
even more laughter. “I didn’t dare tell anyone though, and the sad part is that if
he were a little black boy, I probably would have gone around showing off to everyone.

“Your first kiss was a big deal to me at that age. But because he wasn’t the right
race, I didn’t want anyone to know…” She was quiet for a moment or two, reliving the
shame, and now feeling mortified at her erstwhile embarrassed. “And, he liked me,
too. I was not raised to hate other races, but in the environment I was in, some of
it unfortunately came with the territory. Blacks looked down on Mexicans and vice
versa. A lot of Mexicans attended my elementary school, and this particular one, Marco
Torres, was a real cutie! I couldn’t help myself, ladies!”

Saint leapt to his feet and snatched his jacket closed, adjusted his cufflinks as
if he was going to an important meeting. He showcased a nasty, evil sneer, no doubt
gearing up for something.

“Sit…down!” Xenia barked, causing a ruckus. She tried her damnedest to keep her upper
lip from jumping, for if she let loose, she’d be rolling with laughter. She didn’t
want the tyrant encouraged. “I
knew
you wouldn’t be able to just let me get through this without talking, Saint!”

“You shouldn’t have said what you said, then!” he screamed out as loud as he could,
ensuring he was heard. The crowd was really going now.

“Last I checked, Mr. Aknaten, I was grown, and I can say
whatever
the heck I want to say.” She placed her hand on her hip and rolled her neck. “Now,
here you go again. Whether we are at home with friends, or in a public venue like
this, you are incapable of controlling yourself.” She egged him on, eager for the
interaction. “You did this to me the first time, too. It’s never enough, is it? Sit
down before I
make
you sit down. Ain’t nobody scared of you.”

The audience lit up in laughter when a spotlight was placed on Saint as he pointed
an accusatory finger at her.

“Oh, really? Well, I object to this whole thing!”

More laughter ensued; even Lawrence and Donna were turning red and cracking up.

“What do you mean, you object? There is no judge and jury here. Boy bye!”

“This isn’t right, Xenia! You told me I was your
first
and
only
Rainbeau!”

Hysteria ruled the space as he pretended to be angry, his feelings crushed.

“Well, I lied!” She laughed loudly, playfully putting him on. “Someone hand him a
mic, please. It is obvious he is determined to have his say.” The host immediately
raced to the back while two stagehands got Saint situated. Before anyone could stop
him, he made his way to the stage. Every single woman in the audience jumped to their
feet and burst out in applause as he drew closer to Xenia.

“Look.” The crowd burst out into more applause before he could even finish his sentence.
He looked down at her, standing so close to her, it seemed as if he were going to
maul her to death, right then and there. “All you had to do was be real with me. I
want the address of this Marco person. I’d like to pay him a visit.”

“No need to be jealous! He was a good kisser, too.” She winked at him and smirked,
rubbing it in, causing the audience to oooooh and awwwww.

“Was he better than
me
?” Saint’s brow rose while he obviously fought the urge to laugh.

“Well, I don’t really know.” Xenia crossed her arms. “It was so long ago…” She pretended
to look down and play with her cuticles.

“Your memory is that short, huh? Well, let me remind you what you have at home, give
you a refresher course on what a
real
kiss feels like.” Grabbing her around the waist, he firmly pulled her body to his.
The crowd cheered and got to their feet. He looked into her eyes, then devoured her
mouth as if it were breakfast, lunch and dinner, all rolled into one, causing an almost
violent explosion of applause. Xenia closed her eyes and melted; he was literally
making her weak at the knees.

Oh damn, that was good…

He released her abruptly and turned her loose, making her do a half spin so fast,
she almost fell down, which only caused more laughter as she regained her balance
in the nick of time.

“Strawberry cookies my ass…” he mumbled, but every damn person in the place heard
him. “Taste the Rainbeau, baby.” he flicked his tongue nastily at her, making it wave
like a long, loose noodle in such a sexual, obscene way. This brought the crowd into
an overwhelming uproar. “I ain’t the flavor of the month, I’m the essence of your
life, goddamn it! Marco Polo, mothafucka! Don’t get in the deep end if you can’t swim,
baby! I’ll drown his ass…Nevaaaah, learned, tuh swim! Don’t know the meanin’ of tha
mothafuckin’
stroke
!” Saint sang, pumped his pelvis real hard in the air as if he were fucking, causing
the ladies in the crowd to go wild. He snatched his mic off, threw it on the stage
like he was mad as fuck and stormed back towards his seat, causing everyone to jump
up once again in laughter, whistles and applause. Immediately, a new song belted through
the speakers, 30H!3’s, ‘My First Kiss’, featuring Ke$ha. The crowd went crazy as the
song aired right on time, as if it had been planned in advance.