Saint And Sinners (15 page)

“You guys are really something. What makes you think either of us are interested in
you? Do you know how many times we’re asked to do threesomes?” She rolled her slanted
blue eyes. Koki sniffed the air, inhaling her cockiness and her sweet brand of bullshit.
She was no true lesbian but try-sexual, and he wanted in on the goddamn action.

“You don’t have to be interested in me to want to fuck me.”

“I don’t do men.”

“When did you decide that?” He smirked and casually looked over his shoulder at nothing
in particular before turning slowly back towards her, cocking his head to the side.
“This morning? Anything she can do,” he winked at the blonde, “I can do better. You
want your pussy ate? I’m a professional snatch swallower.” He nonchalantly looked
down at his fingernails and continued. “You want your tits sucked? Call me your newborn
baby… You want a strap on? I have the real thing…and I can go all night, no batteries
needed, no silicon required. I can scream like a lipstick lesbian bitch,” He tossed
the blonde a smile. “And grunt like a fucking stud with a trigger happy finger.”

“…But you can
never
grow a pussy.” She turned to walk away.

He snatched her by her necklace, causing the silver chain to snap as he hoisted her
aggressively towards him, triggering her lip to quiver and her eyes to water.

Fear.

Fear is the prettiest bitch in the room with the ugliest attitude. She pretends to
be hatred…because hatred pretends to be hard, tough and unfuckable. Are you the prettiest
bitch in this club, Jackie? Yeah, I know your name…but you didn’t tell me yet, so
shhhh…I must keep quiet until you give me the key to everything inside of you. I’m
going…to take…you down…

He pressed his lips against hers and slowly caressed her cheek, sensually taking her
by the hand and leading her along the winding, seductive road to Hell. As if in a
trance, her eyes lulled practically to sleep, until he stepped away from her but held
onto her wrist lest she fall back and hurt herself. The woman’s face broke out in
a welcoming smile, as if he were an old friend.

“…You can kiss,” she uttered, staring deeply into his eyes.

The blonde piped in, breaking into the conversation.

“You want to try him out?” She giggled, rising on her tippy toes as she enthusiastically
wiggled about.

He knew they’d done this shit before, taken strange men home. Ah, yes, this should
be fun.

“Yeah.” Jackie chewed nervously on her nail. “Why not?”

As they exited the bar, the news came on…

… What started as a birthday party in Carroll Gardens for a twelve-year-old child
ended in a bloody shoot out for recently paroled drug king pen, Joey Hernandez of
the notorious Blanco Cartel. Sixteen people were murdered, including Mr. Hernandez
who was scheduled to testify against Kyle Hempstead next month for the Christmas robbery
that took place last year. The police arrived on the scene after gunshots were reported;
however, there were no witnesses as to who the assailants were. No one was seen coming
or going. We will give updates as this story unfolds…

*

Xenia sat at
the small table with the emerald and beige checkered cloth in her father-in-law’s
kitchen while soft elevator music played on an old applesauce yellow radio. A miniscule
vanilla scented candle sat in the middle, the flame dancing and swaying to a slight
wind, source unknown. She hadn’t been there since right before her husband had healed
the man. It had been far too long. The two males hung out in the adjoining living
room, arguing as usual. This time it was about Saint’s father’s extensive collection
of hand-dipped incense sticks. She could hear Saint making fun of the poor guy, not
cutting his father an inch of slack.

“But you’ve had these
same
old ass incense for over five years! If you light it now, Dad, it will smell skunk,
like, burnt autumn leaves or some shit. You want your house smelling like weed, huh?
Is that what you want?”

“No, but you made sure it did every chance you got in your younger years!” her father-in-law
scoffed, causing Xenia to chuckle at his witty comeback.

“Well puff, puff, pass, and give, Senor Aknaten, because
that’s
what’s about to happen…let me throw this shit out.” This statement was followed by
pounding footsteps, then the sounds of a slight scuffle. Afraid she’d unravel and
fall into a fit of laughter, Xenia didn’t dare cast her eyes in that direction.

“Get off of it! Put them down this instant!” The older man screamed, his deep voice
much like Saint’s, only the tone weathered with wisdom and age.

“Fine. Here is what gets me, man. You buy incense and burn it everyday, Why won’t
you just pitch these and replace them? Incense is cheap! You can go right down the
street and get like ten or twelve sticks for two damn dollahs. What are you planning
to do with ’em, huh? Rub them together and make a bonfire? Marshmallows ’nd shit?
What the hell is goin’ on, man?!”

“It is of no concern to you. Mind your business, Saint. You leave those alone!” Osaze’s
voice was gruff, forceful, but Saint seemed to not give a damn as he continued to
rile the man into a frenzy.

“My husband is harassing his father again, I see.” Xenia smirked and shook her head
as she took a sip of her fragrant blueberry tea and looked around, esteeming the feminine
touches that Kyung Mi had put in the place. It was livelier and smelled sweet, putting
her in mind of freshly peeled tangerine skins and lemon slices simmering in a hot
pot, peppering the air with their intoxicating fragrance. Burnt orange curtains now
covered the kitchen window and a small lilac flower, her favorite color, sat in a
small terracotta pot above the sink. The stacks of tattered newspapers and dated magazines
that once resided on the counter were gone, replaced by thick hardbound and colorful
Korean cookbooks, some propped open showcasing glossy pages with vibrant photographs
of mouthwatering dishes.

“Yes.” Kyung Mi laughed, her back turned as she stirred an old, gigantic black pot
with something magically delicious bubbling from it. Whatever the woman was cooking,
it made Xenia’s stomach roll with expectancy and her mouth fill with anticipatory
juices. “Saint has a way of getting under Osaze’s skin.” She chuckled. “I think it’s
good for him, though. I think Osaze kind of likes the teasing, too.”

They both burst out laughing.

“I suspect the same.” Xenia couldn’t help but agree. Osaze knew how his son was, and
it did appear he relished the contact at times, even if it involved a silly quarrel
and the two of them bouncing about the room like ping pong balls. The kitchen grew
quiet for a few moments.

“Xenia.” The woman turned from the stove, looking rather serious as she held tight
to a silver ladle, moist with broth. “I hope I’m not out of line with saying this,
but…” She paused, cradling the large spoon to her chest, compressing her small breasts
as if filled with worry. “I
really
admire you.”

Xenia’s concern faded, replaced by a smile. Kyung Mi had such an alluring, motherly
presence about her, as if she were born from the prince of peace and released into
the crazy world to be an immeasurable blessing upon anyone she spoke to, let alone
touched in some way or lived with.

“Thank you so much, Kyung Mi. I really look forward to getting to know you better,
and I am so happy you and Osaze met and got married. He’s like a new man since you’ve
been in his life.”

“Yes, uh, speaking of which,” The woman looked down at her pale, veiny feet, fitted
snugly in a muted pair of plain bisque colored flats. “I have…questions. I can ask
later, if you don’t mind. This probably isn’t the time.” The woman peered out the
arched doorway at the two men, who now spoke in somewhat hushed tones.

Xenia sent her a perplexed look, then it dawned on her.

Oh well, of course she’d have questions… I wish I had had the wife of an Angel Child
to speak with when Saint and I first fell in love…

“Uh, yes…I imagine you do. Kyung Mi, please feel free to speak to me. You don’t have
to be shy about it. Anything we discuss, I will keep to myself.”

Kyung Mi hesitated, then gripped the back of a chair parked at the table, pulled it
towards her and quickly sat in it as if in the middle of a game of ‘Musical Chairs’.
She cupped her hands together, let her eyes every now and again wander towards the
living room, and then took a deep breath. The poor woman was even shaking, her slender
shoulders vibrating under the thin fabric of her floral print blouse.

“I, um, well…” She grinned nervously. “I sometimes don’t know what to say to my husband.
You see, I know he can do these things…strange things, and I don’t want him to feel
different. I mean…” She ran her hand over her creased forehead, her eyes growing tight,
as if her thoughts had become a muddled mess to wade through with a broken paddle.
“I think sometimes he is self conscious, afraid he will frighten me. He goes through
great lengths to ensure I see nothing. I don’t want our marriage to be that way though,
Xenia. I want him to feel comfortable to be himself.”

“Ahhhh.” Xenia nodded. “I understand what you’re saying. That has to be very frustrating.
Have you…
seen
anything yet?”

“Well.” Kyung Mi glanced back out the door. The men moved about still, their voices
slightly carrying. She then turned her attention back towards Xenia, staring hard,
as if she had X-ray vision. “One night when…” The woman blushed a bit, causing Xenia
to smile somewhat wider when the apple of her cheeks turned a deeper pink.

“It’s okay, it’s just us girls!” She reached over and placed her hands over Kyung
Mi’s.

“Yes.” The older woman’s smile grew. “Thank you.” She coughed, then continued. “One
night, while we were
together
, he, uh, well, right while he was going to…you
know
…”

“Yes, I know.” Xenia nodded, careful to not say anything off-putting. She didn’t know
Kyung Mi to the level she’d like, to be able to joke about such matters with her just
yet. She hoped in time that would change.

“His eyes changed colors…” Kyung Mi paused. “I wasn’t afraid. I am surprised that
I wasn’t actually.” She shook her head, as if still in disbelief. “But I felt calm.
It was different. But I was not the least bit afraid of my husband. Osaze, on the
other hand, must’ve felt it… Afterward, he withdrew into himself, wouldn’t even look
at me…as if he were ashamed.” She slipped her hand away from Xenia’s and touched her
own eyelid, pointing to it. “Do they feel it?”

“Yes. Saint told me it is like a slight burning, as if a squirt from an onion got
inside. He said he is used to it now, barely pays attention to it, but from what I
understand, they know more times than not when their eyes have changed colors, especially
when they are angry. Their eyes are like mood rings, basically.”

“Yes…yes, that is a good comparison. I can understand that. That makes it clearer.”
The woman nodded, then took a deep breath. “Well, he seemed rather upset afterward,
and he would not speak to me. He just went to the bathroom, then returned a bit later
and got in bed. He didn’t even wish to speak of it. I tried to talk to him, Xenia,
but he remained…” She paused, as if looking for the right word.

“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.”