Saint And Sinners (45 page)

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 cannot 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.