The Naughty Sins Of A Saint (9 page)

Raphael smiled and exhaled. “OK, Saint. You get off the hook for now, but we both know you only just eased your way out of an argument with me temporarily. You’re full of shit,” Raphael laughed.

“I’m full of shit, but I promise you this time I was being sincere. You always think I’m up to something,” Saint laughed.

“Because you always are! Anyway, what’s your plan regarding Xenia? I know you’re cooking something up in that head of yours.” Raphael stood up and stretched.

“Of course I am. Are you up for a trip to L.A. next week?”

* * *

CHAPTER 3

Xenia
sat down in the empty studio, her red earpiece turned to a low roar. Her show was over. She yawned as she stretched her legs out and reviewed the material for the following day. “Xenia,” her boss said as she entered the darkened area.

“Yes?” Xenia said, as she looked up from her work.

“I need you to do a follow-up interview with Saint Aknaten. Give him a call and get it scheduled. Oh, and look at these other clips of his so you’re better prepared next time.” Her boss winked at her and handed her a silver thumb drive as she exited the studio. Xenia exhaled as her head hit the desk in front of her. She sighed, rose back up, and shook her head back and forth in disbelief.

“God, why do you hate me so?” she mumbled as she thought about their last encounter. “That cocky maniac is going to be the death of me,” she said aloud as she placed the thumb drive in the USB hub. Xenia sat back in her chair, crossing her arms and ankles as she sucked her teeth and lowered her brow with disdain. She turned her headphones up as she watched the fifteen minute clip of the extremely erotic, intriguing, and boisterous personality owned and executed by Dr. Saint Aknaten. Xenia shook her head several times as she listened to him explain what he called “the three Ls.”

“Lust, love, and longevity – those are the three things that we should focus on. Lust isn’t bad if it’s with one person – that one person that you’re crazy about. You should lust after that lover. People want to be sexually desired, especially by their significant other. Without it, their self-esteem is affected, and the relationship as a whole suffers. We all want love. We want to be wanted and respected and, of course, appreciated. Love is what you do more than what you say. It’s an action word. Then, lastly, there is longevity. To keep her, keep doing those things that won her in the first place. You need to be in it for the long haul. Your Black ‘queen’ is out there. Don’t demean her. Don’t make her feel discouraged. You have to be her friend, her lover, and her husband. You have to be her helper and her confidant. Your ‘queen’ should be able to talk to you openly and honestly. She comes with heaviness that you’ve probably never experienced. Most of you in here have not experienced racism. Either you’re discriminated against or you’re not. You’re born with power because you have a white dick. White men are revered. Don’t act like you don’t know. That’s part of the problem! You have all the power, and now you’re trying to take a Black woman as your wife which is why the shit storm is here. She, the Black woman, is born less than, no matter how much money, land, and fame her family may have because of the xenophobia that’s ingrained in our society. She’s presented to you, even in the best of circumstances, somehow tarnished from oppression whether she realizes it or not. You can’t go through what her ancestors went through and still not carry some of the wounds. Racism is still going strong regardless of what you think you see or don’t see. Don’t ever forget that.”

Xenia
looked at her computer screen with surprise. “I actually agree with this son of a bitch,” she said. ‘He makes sense. I’m surprised he’d admit something like that. Listen to that New York dialect. He’s so “East Coast.” Why does he have to be so fucking fine? God, he’s gorgeous,’ she thought as she continued to listen to him. After the video clip was over, Xenia turned on an overhead light and thought about all her failed relationships. She mulled over each man briefly and cringed at the inevitable termination of each relationship. “What if he’s right about some of that other shit too?” she whispered as she played with a Post-it-note pad, flipping it open and closed like a child’s flip booklet. “His crazy ass might actually be right,” Xenia said as tears welled up in her eyes.

* * *

“Mr. Aknaten, this is the third letter we’ve blocked from the same IP address. We alerted the authorities, but we’ll have to boost your security this week,” T-Rex said as he handed Saint a printed email message. They were walking to Baggage Claim. Saint read the email and balled it up roughly in his palm as he watched the luggage go around.

“I’m so sick of this shit. I’m not going to have more mothafuckas crawling around me. I trust you, T-Rex. You’re enough security. Who sent some shit this time?”

“It’s the same guy we believe. He’s using the same computer this time. He said his organization is tired of warning you, that violence will come if you don’t stop having these conferences and writing your books. The email before that came from a different IP address, but it may have just been random.”

“They say the same old shit day in day out,” Saint complained as he shrugged his shoulders. “You tall, Prince-and-the-Revolution-lookin’ mothafucka, you terrorist, Bin-Laden-lookin’ mothafucka, we’re gonna bomb you. Remember 9-11.”

“Remember that message from last year,” T-Rex added, “‘The best part of you ran down your mom’s leg.’”

“And that other one,” Saint continued, “‘Your father should’ve pulled out.’”

“‘What do you get when you mix an eggroll and a Sand Nigger – a Saint.’” They both laughed.

“‘Your oriental mom should’ve aborted you or eaten you like the dogs and cats she cooks.’” T-Rex shook his head.

“‘Oriental’ is used to describe people now, I guess, instead of just objects?’ I wish these people had paid attention in school,” Saint joked. He thought of the message still balled up in his palm. “‘We’re going to Iraq you.’ Iraq is now used as a verb apparently,” Saint smiled and shook his head. “It just goes on and on. I’m just waiting for some originality.” He rolled his eyes as he stuffed the balled-up piece of paper into his pocket. “It’s nice and warm here,” Saint smiled as T-Rex grabbed his luggage. Raphael looked around LAX and smiled.

“This airport is fuckin’ huge, Son. Finally, you invited a Nigga to go somewhere with your ass. You stingy, Man,” Raphael teased as he rubbed his goatee.

Saint smiled. “I used to invite you all the time, but you always turned me down. I just didn’t want you attending any conferences. You were too busy making babies and all in love though,” Saint laughed. “How quickly we forget.” He shook his finger at his friend as they made their way outside to wait for their ride to the hotel. Raphael looked up at the sky, placing his sunglasses on and enjoying the heat that bathed his smooth, bald head with a warm welcome.

“Palm trees – I see real damn palm trees, Son,” Raphael laughed as they rode in the limousine with T-Rex and the driver.

They arrived at the hotel – The Peninsula Beverly Hills. Two bellhops immediately greeted Saint and Raphael, taking their bags and coats while T-Rex walked up the counter to complete check-in.

“Your suite is right next to mine,” Saint explained. “Tonight I have the White Knights of the Round Table meeting. You’re more than welcome to come. It’s just general info – nothing major this evening.”

Raphael nodded as he looked around the plush hotel lobby. “I thought your penthouse was the shit, but this is amazing.” He took notice of the indoor fountain with water that turned from purple to green to pink. Saint answered his cell phone as they made their way up to their suites. As soon as Saint entered his room, he hung up and jumped in the shower. The warm water coated his body, relaxing his muscles as he prepared his mind for the evening events. He exited the glass enclosure and took out his shaving kit. Going over his face meticulously, he removed his facial hair and checked his thick, black eyebrows for any stray. No matter how much revenue Saint made, he always shaved his own face. It was a personal preference. He didn’t like anyone doing it but him. Saint walked into the bedroom to answer his cell phone once again.

“Yes?” he said, as he sat on the edge of the bed with the towel partially wrapped around his waist.

“You ought to see the size of the television in my room. Can I drink some of this shit in here? Are you going to pay for this? You know I don’t got any money for all of this,” Raphael laughed. “I brought some cash, but they’re big pimpin’ up in here I see.”

“Your TV is the same size as mine. The suites always have the best stuff. See, I hooked you up,” Saint laughed. “Yes, you can drink some of the beverages, but don’t go crazy, please, and you already know I’m picking up the tab,” Saint said, as he looked down at his bare feet. “I need your moral support. It’s the least I could do.”

“Cool. What should I wear tonight?” Raphael asked.

“Just dress like you’re going to the jewelry store – basically anything but jeans,” Saint said, looking through his luggage with one hand.

“OK, see you in a few.” Saint hung up and dialed a new number.

“James, it’s Saint. My friend is attending the meeting with me tonight. I wanted to give a heads up.”

“No problem, Saint. We trust your judgment. I just got into town, a bit jet-lagged, but I’ll see you shortly. Please bring the syllabi for next week.”

“Will do.” Saint went into the bedroom to finish cleaning up and get dressed.

* * *

The large conference room held fifty black leather chairs all gathered around a large, black lacquer table. Glasses of water sat before each seat along with a variety of appetizers and finger foods. Dressed in black jackets, each man sat down at a chair, engaging in small-talk as Saint walked into the room. Raphael came in behind him, taking a seat off to the side as instructed while T-Rex stood directly in front of the door. As attendance was taken, Raphael noticed a symbol on all of the jackets. It was a black triangle with a red slash through it. He thought back and recalled Saint wearing the same emblem on several of his jackets for the conferences. Saint stood before everyone, slowly picking up his glass of water and taking a sip. His Kiton Black cologne flavored the air with masculine divinity.

“Good evening, everyone. It’s approximately 10:00PM. Let’s begin. I looked over my schedule for the remainder of this year, and besides a couple of dates, everything looks fine. I’ve received several threats of bodily harm from the primary website again. We’re only tracking the ones that are believed to be part of large, racial riot instigating groups from South Carolina, Texas, Alabama, Ohio, Indiana, West Virginia, and one in California. I receive these threats daily, but these locations are linked to members of the same group which has yet to be identified. If you receive correspondence from any of these locations, please call T-Rex, and he’ll handle it accordingly. Now, onto other business. On the next leg of the tour here in California, I’m supposed to be discussing perspiration, pheromones, male and female hygiene, and aromatic attraction. I’ll also be discussing body heat, chemistry, ovulation, and their physiological components. We’ll be delving into the delicate topic of the natural female bouquet. Are there any questions?” Saint asked as he rubbed the back of his head.

Raphael chuckled, “Female bouquet? Saint please! Either she stinks or she doesn’t! I don’t like seafood!” he laughed.

Saint looked at Raphael and gave him a stern look while raising his finger to his lip. Raphael immediately turned away, trying to stifle his laughter.

“Sorry about that, gentlemen. Again, are there any questions?” Everyone shook their head “no.”

“This last topic is what the marketing group has been focusing on. It will, of course, attract more of the negative attention we’ve been recently receiving. I’ll be discussing mating, procreation, and how to help increase fertility and successful conception of biracial children between the Black females and non-Black males. I’ll explain why this goal is important. Then I’ll touch base on child rearing as it pertains to the children of these unions.” Saint shoved his hand in his dark-brown pants pocket. He let his fingers of his free hand glide over his silver Star of David necklace and white Polo shirt.

“I have three magazine interviews including one with ‘Playgirl’ before we leave for New York City. My private practice has been suffering due to my hectic schedule, so I’m going to start having my colleague, also a licensed sex therapist, take my clients until I’m able to be there full time again. OK, let’s hash out the scheduling now,” Saint announced as he took his seat and opened up his computer. Raphael smiled as he scooted closer to him.

“I can’t believe you’re the same kid who asked me how to put on a condom. How far you’ve come. You went from a scared-of-pussy geek to a complete sex enthusiast and educated freak,” Raphael laughed as he clapped his hands together, more amused than enlightened by the meeting. “And what’s that symbol you all are wearing?”