Saint's Sacrament - Sins of the Father (52 page)

“You got it
,” Henry promised as they each handled Frisbee with expert precision. Xenia watched that Frisbee move back and forth, back and forth—it left one hand, but returned to another, just like her father into her life. She quickly wiped a tear away, and took Isis’ tiny hand.

“Okay sweetie, let’s make a biiiiig castle with lots of rooms for the whole family!”

“Da mole bamlee!!!” Isis repeated, causing Xenia to burst out laughing and poke her in the belly.

“That’s right, honeybun…
the
whole
family.” She glanced back at her father and the boys, all of them laughing as the man jumped in the air and caught the damn thing much to everyone’s surprise. “Yes, family. That’s all that really matters…”

~***~

“Pop! How can you do this to me?! I’m driving to the damn airport in, like, five hours!” Saint gripped the steering wheel of his Escalade, which he’d just parked in front of the Rainbeau Knights of the Round Table meeting center.

“I’m sorry,
Son, but it just came up at the last second!”

“I think you’re stalling!” Saint yelled. “I can’t believe you’d something like this! I even had a healing
and cleansing done on me, partially for you, from Krishna.”

“I know, you told me. I’ve yet to meet that wonderful man. Lawrence is blessed to know him.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Saint anxiously dismissed. “Don’t try to change the topic. Now, it’s not that I didn’t need it,”—Saint shrugged—“But that shit was painful as hell, and I did it sooner rather than later so I’d be better prepared for you. You mean to tell me that science conference can’t wait? We are talking about your health here. This is the second time you’ve changed the original date, Dad, and I’m sick of this shit.”

“Saint
.” His father sighed impatiently. “I
have
to go to this. I told you that to help keep busy, I wanted to start teaching again. It’s important. I will pay you back the flight money.”

“Dad, it isn’t about the money, you know that! Look
…” Saint tried to calm down. Closing his eyes briefly, he ran his hand over his face. “Give me another date, and we’re
not
changing it. I don’t care if King Tut rises from the mothafuckin’ grave himself, and tells you he wants to meet you and tell you all of his secrets. This shit is final!”

He didn’t miss his father’s slight snicker.

“This ain’t funny!”

“I know,” his father
said with a laugh. “I’ll make it up to you. Okay, how about two weeks from now?”

“Fine. And I don’t care what happens, Jagger and I will be there…
This makes no damn sense!”

“I understand
and again, I apologize. I will see you soon. I love you.” He could still hear the smile in his father’s voice. At least the old man was in good spirits.

“I love you
, too…” Saint disconnected the call. “Shit!” He grabbed his laptop and briefcase and headed inside the building. Pushing the upsetting news aside, he sighed with relief when he spotted Jagger and Lawrence standing by the elevator, their game faces on…

~***~

Osaze pushed his glasses up above his nose. Letting out a long exhale, he swallowed as he gingerly turned the pages of the yellowed science periodical, 21
st
Century Science and Technology. He glided his hand slowly over his thin, tan wrinkled pants, then ran his fingers through his silky salt and pepper hair. In the vast library, the only sound detectable was the occasional shuffling of feet, a clearing of someone’s throat and the slight buzz from a cell phone or mp3 player as a student worked. This had become his favorite afternoon ritual for the past six months, and he was now keeping a secret. There was a lovely sixty-year-old librarian named Kyung Mi. She’d been transferred from the Manhattan branch, much to his pleasure. Osaze had done his typical rounds that rainy afternoon, and made his way up to the front desk. There she stood, clicking her shiny, clear nails against the keyboard as she peered over her black-rimmed glasses, not paying him any mind. He’d never seen her before, and he blushed ten shades of red, he was certain, when she turned to him and smiled. The woman looked somewhat like his Ming Jae, and though he didn’t consider himself an expert on such matters of ethnicity, he was betting that she, too, was Korean. Saint had teased him years ago, saying that his father had an Asian fetish. He denied it, but he knew deep down there may be some truth in that. Osaze had a strong attraction to Asian women, especially Korean and Cambodian. He’d been that way since his family had moved to America and he never gave it much thought. This woman took his breath away, with her light and sweet perfume. Before he could backtrack or talk himself out of it, he asked, “What’s your name?”

“Kyung Mi…” He smiled with satisfaction. Yes, he was right. She
was
Korean. He cleared his throat nervously and asked her out for coffee, apologizing if that was too forward after checking to ensure there was no ‘hardware’ on her left hand. She accepted, and they’d been inseparable ever since. The woman was a widow of almost five years, had three adult children—two sons and a daughter—and five grandchildren. Independent, well-mannered and intelligent, she had just moved into a small apartment nearby, finally ready to start afresh. The woman got his blood boiling and to boot, she could cook delicious food, using recipes passed down from her grandmother, that she’d bring into work and let him sample. Standing about five foot four, she looked like a dwarf next to him, but he didn’t care, and he affectionately nicknamed her his ‘little lady.’

They went out to dinner at
small bodegas and diners that served the best deli sandwiches and Caesar salads in town. They would sit shoulder to shoulder in his home, reading to one another, just like he used to do with Ming Jae. Sometimes the books would be about outer space, and the conversations would change to life on mars, causing whimsical and engaging conversations. Sometimes they’d read about computers and the latest technical gadgets, especially since neither of them could make heads or tails of their own cell phones. This was a running joke amongst the two. And then, much to his embarrassment, Kyung Mi finally spotted a stack of books he thought were well hidden on the bottom row of his bookshelf…books by a man named Saint Aknaten…

She knew that was his son’s name, and when he’d returned from the restroom,
he found her cradling two of the damned books to her bosom, a beautiful smile on her face. She caressed his cheek and said, “You should be proud of him. He is smart. He is writing to help people. That’s good.”

He agreed and he admitted that he was very proud of his son, but the subject matter of his son’s teachings was not something he wished to delve in and discuss with his lady friend. Just like Min
g Jae would have more than likely done, she begged to differ, and tore his heart straight out of his chest as she nonchalantly flipped through Saint’s book, “Pussy Power”.

“Oh no!”
He turned away in embarrassment as she started to read the passages aloud.

She
read so matter-of-factly, as if she’d been saying ‘cock’ and ‘ass’ her entire life. It amused Osaze, and in reality it turned the temperature up inside of him to know that the woman was sexual and didn’t shy away from the topic; she invited it, played with it, even while he squirmed in his seat feeling uncomfortable. Saint had been right; the dry spell was killing him. When he was married, he and his wife, Saint’s mother, shared a loving and frequent sex life, but once she was gone, so was his passion and desire. He never even looked at another woman for years on end. Then, as he started to heal and move forward, with Saint’s help, he felt himself come back alive. One late Wednesday evening, he even went as far as wandering into an adult bookstore and perusing the extensive array of adult videos. He’d never stepped foot in such a place, a place of ill repute, and it was against his beliefs, but as he got off the subway, the flashing sign beckoned him. He purchased one DVD, almost pissing himself with embarrassment, and kept it tucked under his arm like a bird wing as he scampered home. It took days before he drummed up the courage to watch it, to stick the damn thing in the DVD player Saint got for him some years previously. He’d cursed, trying to figure out the remote control, pushed menu several times, then suddenly, an Asian woman took over the screen, live and in living color, shoving her finger inside of her pink creamy hole, lips parted and long black hair falling to the side as she gave herself the time of her life. He was horrified, but couldn’t look away…

He
’d looked down at the cover of the DVD and read the title once more, “Asian Pussy Persuasion”, and tossed it to the side. Swallowing deeply, he leaned back on the couch and found himself breathing harder and faster. Before long, his hand was running over the front of his pants and the shame seized him like a mother does a child who has wandered away. He grabbed the remote, fumbled with the damn thing, causing the volume shoot up sky high. The woman’s orgasm rang raucous and loud, and could surely be heard up and down the street. Osaze was horrified, certain that the neighbors would think he’d hired some streetwalker to give him a mighty good time…

He finally
managed to place the video on mute, but he kept watching and his excitement continued to grow.

Now, he could
replace her face with Kyung Mi’s…and enjoy the experience more than ever. Nevertheless, he realized he had a situation on his hands. He was attracted to a woman intimately, intellectually, and sexually. He hadn’t felt that way in over a decade. When he and Kyung Mi shared their first kiss, it was clumsy but sweet. He did the best he could. They both looked at one another afterward and burst out laughing. He’d smeared her bright red lipstick everywhere, and couldn’t believe he’d forgotten how to kiss properly. He used to be a Casanova, proud of his intimate skills. He never told Saint, but he felt his son got his perversions honestly. Osaze loved making love to his wife; it used to be one of the highlights of his day, and he couldn’t wait until Saint as a little child would finally fall the heck asleep, so he could do just that.

Yes, Ming Jae
… The woman that had stolen his heart, his soulmate. He had a few guilt pangs for weeks on in. But then, he had a beautiful dream, and the woman had come to him, smiling, letting her husband know she approved of his Kyung Mi and wanted him to see her, to be with her. She said it very clearly—she knew how to speak to him and though it was a dream, it came across as real, tangible.

He knew in his heart it was
really
her. The woman had a habit of visiting him from time to time. Still, he couldn’t get himself to take her shrine down. Luckily, Kyung Mi said nothing negative about it. In fact, she didn’t show a jealous bone in her body and remarked at how absolutely beautiful Ming Jae was. That was what people typically noticed first, her unbelievably good looks. She
was
beautiful. The woman would cause car accidents, literally. There had been instances of drivers rear-ending others to take a gander at her and the greatest thing of all about her was that she walked around as if she were simply average. Her heart was big, her smile bigger, and he had loved the woman with all of his being. No one could take her place, but he did meet someone who could help curb the loneliness…a new friend. A confidante he could see himself with, perhaps—if he dared think it—even as a life partner…

Coming out of his daydream,
Osaze gently closed the periodical and sat straighter. Today, Kyung Mi was out of town, visiting her daughter in Arizona. He missed her so much. And, he was ready. He wanted Saint to meet the woman. The science conference had come up and derailed everything, but she’d be back in town soon, just in time to meet his son. That was why he chose that date for Saint’s visit. She’d been a saving grace when he got the bad news about his health. She made him meals, brought them over, and even tidied up his humble home. She wanted to meet his son, as well. She’d taken the liberty to read all about him, and was greatly intrigued by him. Although Osaze would go as far as to call him odd, Saint was brilliant and dynamic. The boy had gotten the best of both worlds—starting with his mother’s good looks, though Osaze had been told by many he was nothing to scoff at. Regardless, he likened himself to an intellect, and Saint had also inherited his love of science.

Osaze
gathered his belongings and left the library. He took it easy walking to the subway, and finally made it back home. After preparing a bowl of raisin oatmeal, he switched the TV on CNN and made himself comfortable. When he was done, he picked up his cell phone and dialed Kyung Mi, his ‘little lady’.

“Hi, Osaze!” she said cheerily, as she always did, no matter her actual mood. She had a much thicker accent than Min
g Jae.

“Hello
, Kyung Mi. How are your daughter and grandchildren today?” he folded a newspaper beside him.

“Great, everyone is fine. We just got back from the beach. Very nice!”

“That sounds relaxing and fun. Um, you stated you’d be back in about a week, on Sunday, correct?”

“Yes, I have a noon flight, back on the 14
th
.”

“Okay, perfect because my son and a friend of his are coming
to town, and I’d like for you two to finally meet.”