The Naughty Sins Of A Saint (31 page)

The doctor laughed. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes,’ and my apologies.”

“Dr. Aknaten, let me explain what’s happened. You were shot seven days ago. The bullet missed your heart by three centimeters. You’re very lucky. You lost a lot of blood and went into a coma.”

“Xen…ia,” Saint murmured. The memories of what happened flooded his mind. It all became crystal clear.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t understand you,” the doctor said.

“Xen…ia…wife…my wife. Where…is my wife? Xenia!”

“Dr. Aknaten! We need you to calm down!” One of the nurses said as she looked at the monitor attached to his heart.

Saint flailed his arms violently, ripping his IV out of his hand. The monitors blinked and beeped. Saint attempted to get out of bed only to fall forward, landing on his side on the cold floor. His back ached. Blood seeped through the bandage over the left wing of his angel tattoo. Three male nurses entered the room, breaking through the thick fog of commotion. The men raised Saint’s long body into the air, placing him gently back onto the bed.

“Dr. Aknaten, I understand that you’re upset, but you’re making things worse for yourself. Please try to calm down. You can’t afford any excitement right now,” Dr. Phillips explained. Saint breathed deeply, trying to lower his blood pressure as he felt his heart rate increase to the point that it was painful.

“Why…can’t I move…my legs? I can’t…feel them,” he asked.

Dr. Aknaten, the bullet missed your heart but fractured your spine,” Dr. Phillips said. He paused a moment before continuing. “I’m sorry to tell you this, but it’s highly unlikely that you’ll walk again.” Saint turned away and gazed out of the window. He watched as the chimney stacks blew large puffs of gray smoke. The weather was windy and dismal. Two feet of snow lay on the ground.

“Is she…dead?” Saint asked as he pushed his face into his pillow. “If she’s dead, I…want…you…to let…me…die.”

“I’m not sure who you’re referring to,” Dr. Phillips said. “Let me get some more information for you,” he said before stepping out of the room.

Saint looked at one of the nurses. “Tell him… never mind. I can…feel her. She’s…alive. She’s upset. Please find…her and…bring her to me.”

 The nurse looked at Saint and patted his hand.

“Everything is going to be OK, Dr. Aknaten. Just relax,” she said as she administered the pain reliever and sedative to his newly secured IV. Several minutes later, his eyes rolled back until finally, he could no longer keep them open. He began to dream:

He was hostage to the surreal imagery, surrounded by odd music that seemed to be playing backwards. He could almost smell the black raindrops with silver streaks that poured upward, towards the sky in slow motion. A white figure approached him. It got closer and closer. A familiar scent caught Saint’s attention. “Who’s wearing Chanel No. 5? Mom is, of course.” Saint’s mother stood next to him, rubbing her fingers through his silky black hair.

“Hello, Son,” she said in her usual soft spoken voice. “I see you’re hurt.” She smiled pleasantly, hugging him tightly. She reached behind him, and gently removed the bullet, then tossed it into the air. A black raindrop caught it, carrying it far away.

“All better now,” she said as she kissed his cheek and disappeared into the sky.

* * *

Xenia
stood in front of the hospital, exhausted after spending another night in Saint’s hospital room. Her bloodshot eyes stung from crying. She had been trying to reach Saint’s father to no avail. “Shit!” she screamed.

Raphael raced outside and screamed, “Xenia! He’s awake!” Xenia dropped her phone. Latrice raced after him, out of breath, gathering Xenia’s belongings as she watched both of them race back to Saint’s floor. Xenia ran into the sterile hospital room and looked as Saint was fast asleep.

“He’s not awake, Raphael,” Xenia said, disappointed. “He’s still in a coma.” Xenia turned away, rubbing her temples.

“He was! He was up!” Raphael exclaimed

One of the nurses came into the room and rubbed Xenia’s arms. “Are you Xenia?” she asked.

“Yes,” Xenia answered.

“Mrs. Aknaten, your husband has been asking for you. He did wake up but was so upset we had to sedate him. He should be up again in about an hour. We need him to get some rest.”

Xenia
nodded as a multitude of grateful tears raced down her face. “I missed him! I haven’t left his side except to go pee, and the one time I do, he wakes up. Another hour feels like an eternity,” Xenia said to Raphael.

“It’s OK. We’ll be able to talk to him shortly.” He patted her back.

“I still can’t reach his father,” Xenia said to Raphael. “He’s not answering his phone. Saint only had one number for him in his cell phone.”

“I’ll find him,” Raphael reassured. “I’ve been to his house twice, and he wasn’t there, but I’m going back over today. His father travels to Egypt to visit family. That’s where he probably is, but I’ll find out for sure.”

“Raphael, thanks for being here with me, with Saint. I know you’ve been missing a lot of work, and I appreciate it. You and Latrice have been great,” Xenia said as she wiped more tears away.

“I’m a manager at a jewelry store,” Raphael pointed out. “I can set my own hours – and even if I couldn’t, I’d be here. Saint’s my best friend. I couldn’t…imagine my life without him.”

Xenia
wiped her runny nose, walked across the hospital room to Saint, and looked closely at his face. She repeated what she had been saying to him each and every night as she grabbed his hand. “Saint, I love you. Come back to me, Baby. Please.” The tears streamed down her face, leaving translucent streaks and falling onto her shirt. She slept with his coat wrapped around her at night, refusing to clean the blood. The low sound of the television would lull her to sleep. In her dreams he was alive and well with his arms wrapped around her. She could hear him laughing, feel his kissing her, and smell his freshly washed skin right after they’d made love in the shower. She would always wake up frantically realizing he was still in a coma.

“He’s here because of me,” Xenia sobbed. “He took the bullet…for me.” Raphael held her free hand as they both silently stood watch over Saint for the next half hour.

Latrice walked into the room and hugged Xenia. “He woke up. God is good. Raphael, give her a few moments alone with her husband, Honey.” Latrice and Raphael left the room, leaving Xenia alone with her wounded soldier until he awoke and could see her face, receiving the peace he so desperately needed.

* * *

Xenia
stood back, confused, wishing desperately she could understand what Saint’s father was saying. Raphael had indeed found him. He was in Egypt and returned home as soon as he learned what had happened. His voice was muffled behind the closed hospital door.

She finally heard Saint respond. “Open the door.” A few moments later, Saint’s father opened the hospital door. Xenia stood outside at the threshold. She looked at Saint’s father, a carbon copy of her husband, only two inches shorter and with smile lines and silver hair.

“Of course I knew,” his father continued their conversation. “Did you still believe I was disappointed in you? You’re my son!”

Saint looked at Xenia and smiled faintly. She wasn’t sure what to make of his facial expression. She suspected it was embarrassment. Saint never spoke much about his father. All he had said was that at times their relationship was tumultuous, and large gaps of time would sometimes pass in which they wouldn’t contact one another.

“Come here,” Saint’s father demanded as he looked at Xenia. His voice carried the same power as Saint’s, deep and authoritative, without the gentle edge, however. Xenia slowly walked into the room. Saint’s father took her gingerly by the elbow and placed her right in front of Saint. Saint looked up at her.

“I understand you’re my son’s wife. It would’ve been nice to have received the news from some place other than the television!” his father scolded. “Since you seem to have so much influence over him,” he shot his son a threatening look, “I want you to tell him that he must, for once in his life, be in the land of reality.”

Xenia
looked at her father-in-law with bewilderment. “Sir, I’m not sure I follow you.”

“Saint believes he’ll walk again. He doesn’t seem to be the least bit concerned about his prognosis. All he cared about was that you were OK. If it weren’t for you, he wouldn’t even be here. Please don’t take what I’m saying the wrong way. What I mean is, with what he does, this Black woman preoccupation, marriage and sex business mess, he should’ve never married. It’s not safe for anyone he loves to be around him. He put you in danger as a result of his own selfishness!” Saint’s father yelled. “You can’t have a normal life if this is what you’re going to be doing, Saint. You wanted a wife, and look what you brought to her feet! She could be dead because of you!” Saint looked weakly up at his father, silent, as though he were looking through him. Xenia closed her eyes and exhaled as she talked herself into not going off on this man who stood before her. He was, after all, her husband’s father.

“Mr. Aknaten, I’ll have to respectfully disagree with you.” Xenia bent to kiss Saint lightly on his slightly parted lips. Saint smiled, slowly lifting his hand up and placing it gently around Xenia’s neck. He brought her closer to him, pecking her lips as he breathed heavily.

“I promise you, I’ll be able to walk again,” he said. Xenia noticed his speech had improved in just the last hour.

“Saint, please don’t worry about doing anything for me. Do it for yourself. You already risked your life for me.” Xenia rubbed the top of his hand as she held it. Saint’s father crossed his arms and looked down at the floor.

“When he was little, Saint told me that he wanted to be a superhero,” his father said as he cracked a smile. “When he was ten, he told me he liked dolls. I didn’t see how he could be so boyish on one hand and so sensitive on the other. I immediately thought he was gay once I discovered a pile of Barbies in his room. Come to find out, it wasn’t that at all. He was fascinated with their anatomy and was actually girl crazy. It had nothing to do with wanting to be one. He had even drawn nipples and pubic hair on them.” They all laughed. Saint smiled, keeping his eyes closed as he listened to his father talk. “His mother felt I never understood our son, and she was right. I love him with all my heart, but I’ve never understood him. Sometimes it seemed like he was doing things just to shock me.” Xenia sat down on Saint’s hospital bed and listened as her father-in-law spoke, hanging on to every word. Saint moved his arm towards her, intertwining her fingers with his.

“He was a good student – straight ‘A’s, but always in trouble. It was shameful to have to get calls about my son’s behavior when I was teaching at the very school he was acting out in. Honestly, he only listened to his mother, and even she sometimes couldn’t get through. I don’t know if it was boys being boys, but Saint seemed to get some sort of sick satisfaction out of upsetting me. Then after his mother passed, the joy, the light that was within him dimmed. I was happy about it initially,” Mr. Aknaten said, followed by a sigh. “He was no longer a show-off. I didn’t realize that his change from being extroverted to withdrawn and serious was his way of trying to manage the pain of his mother’s death. I just thought he was maturing, growing up. My son died the day his mother died, and this new person came to be, a person I thought I had more in common with. He was no longer sensitive. Nothing seemed to faze him anymore. He took everything seriously. He didn’t joke anymore. He didn’t find humor in the simple things in life. He was almost robotic. I never wanted him to lose his spirit, I just wanted him to take life seriously,” Saint’s father said as he sat down in the orange chair and crossed his legs. “Saint,” he called out.

Saint looked over at him. “Yes.”

“I’m sorry I came in here so angry. I was just scared. I can’t afford for something to happen to you. You’re all I have left of your mother. I’m glad that you’ve found someone who makes you happy. I just wish you’d see the big picture sometimes. Even though you’re a grown man, I feel like I have to protect you from yourself,” his father explained.

Saint winced as he tried to sit up. “No, Baby. Don’t do that,” Xenia said as she hopped to her feet. Xenia grabbed the thin, stiff hospital pillows behind Saint’s back and plumped them up as she layered them behind his neck and back. She reached for the lever on the side of the bed, slowly elevating him upright.

“Thank you, Baby,” Saint began. “Dad, you and I are nothing alike, and I don’t apologize for that, and neither should you,” Saint said bluntly. “You think what I do is obscene. I believe the word you used was ‘grotesque’ at one point in time. You’ve never had problems with me dating Black women, but you said I didn’t need to go around flying a flag about it. You haven’t seen what I have, and you haven’t gone where I’ve been. If you did, you’d understand why I do what I do. I can’t sit around this hospital feeling sorry for myself and just accept what someone tells me if I don’t want it to be true. The doctors don’t know me. They don’t know my drive. They aren’t my god. I don’t have to accept what they say because they’re doctors like me. We all make incorrect assessments and assumptions no matter how educated we are.”