Saved and SAINTified (40 page)

“You are tired, as you said
, and you need to sleep. You are confused because of psychic exhaustion.”

S
aint leaned back in his seat. “Don’t try any funny business, Beset. If I have to, I will lay an old lady out.”

Beset chuckled. “I know
, and I would never do anything to cross you, Saint.”

S
aint gazed at her from the corner of his eye. He needed to be totally sure, certain without a shadow of a doubt that he could trust her. He refused to take a chance—too much was at risk.

I should’ve done this before I let your ass on this plane with me
... but everything was happening too fast. It still isn’t too late, though. Come here!

He
abruptly reached over and put his hand over her heart. Beset gasped at his intrusive physical touch and closed her eyes tightly as she felt him reading her. He flew through her entire childhood, up until modern day, within seconds.

The plane began to slowly move, taxing up the runway. The wheels rolled against the ground, steadily picking up speed. S
aint pressed harder into her chest. She reared back, twisting with discomfort, her eyes bulging. Airline announcements came and went as Beset went weak in her seat, her eyes closed while Saint moved around inside of her spirit, reading her life’s files now in detail, at rapid speed. He found what he needed and snatched it, causing her eyes to fly open as she gasped for air. Saint saw distorted images of Beset mixing brews, reading spells and chanting in her modest home. He watched her draw circles in blood but the most disturbing image was watching her cry and fall apart as her daughter was snatched from her home, at Nizsm’s orders, and beheaded for speaking out against him. As he released the image from his mind, he saw tears fall from her eyes. She knew what he had seen—and in that glimmer of time, she’d relived it, feeling all the same emotions that had once taken her to the brink of insanity.

“I couldn’t protect
her,” she murmured as the plane merged into the air. “He spared my life because he said he wanted me to suffer by letting me live with my great loss. He believed it was justice.”

S
aint looked at the small blue bottle with the clear, seemingly innocent liquid inside of it. He sloshed it around, studying it from various angles as the filtered moonlight broke through the uncovered window in the otherwise dark cabin. The plane ascended higher into the air. Saint slowly opened his mouth to allow a few of the drops to drip onto his tongue. It was flavorless. Making up his mind, he tilted his head back and downed the contents. Settling back into his chair, he gripped the sides and prepared for the worse.

“O
kay.” He licked his lips and cleared his throat. “Lay it on me, Beset.”

Beset clasped her hands together. “You will feel relaxed in less than t
en minutes,” she assured.

S
aint closed his eyes and began to feel slight tingling from his head to his toes.

“I’d like to tell you a bit more about
Nizsm, if that is okay? I believe it will assist you. The more we know about our enemies, the better off we are.”

S
aint groggily nodded, yawned and turned slightly toward her.

“You are frightened because your daughter is in danger and despite your abilities, you’re human. Too much is happening too soon
. You are on overload right now. You are Nizsm’s polar opposite. You have something he has wanted his entire life. At this point, he doesn’t care about the karma, his karmic debt. He’s so set in his ways, there is no way he can pay it all back.”

S
aint was now completely relaxed, feeling as if he were floating, yet fully aware of his mind and body. This was
better
than any weed he’d smoked in the past and any alcohol he could get his hands on. He didn’t know what Beset put in the water, and it didn’t matter at this point to him. He was simply grateful.

“Because you’ve created another life, and she is who she is, you are even stronger than you were before her conception. That scares
Nizsm.”

S
aint listened to her and his steady, calming breaths.

“S
aint.” His eyelids fluttered. He heard her voice, but could not look at her. He was peacefully drifting away. She gently tapped his hand. “Once we get to your home, I have something to start helping you immediately. It is an honor to be with you. I’m forever grateful.”

S
aint could feel her moving, swaying her hands softly around him. He heard her slowly chanting his wife’s name, over and over. He wasn’t alarmed; the peace filled him up and spread.

“S
aint,” she whispered in his ear. “Tell me about a happy day in your life...”

He began to dream
, and in that dream, he narrated to her...

When I was a little boy, there was a block party that I remember vividly. Everybody was dancing, young, old, black, white,
’Rican, Jewish ... and me ... Mama ... everybody. A D.J. was there, spinning records. When, Anita Ward’s, ‘Ring My Bell’ came on, the street came alive. I was a little skinny six-year-old boy who badly needed a haircut, but I didn’t care. Running around screaming and laughing—that was my only job.

We had the fire hydrant on, and all of us little kids ran around, jumping in that cold water, our bellies full from fo
od that everyone had chipped in, bought and cooked. Life was good. Hardly anyone was fighting and I actually saw my father laugh. That was one of the happiest days of my life. It was a hot summer day in the South Bronx. Buildings were being burnt down left and right, the smoke still thick in the air, we didn’t have shit, none of us did, but we had each other ... yes, we had each other...

And with that, she too closed her eyes and fell asleep
.

“Thank you listening audience for tuning into the Xenia Show! I will see you at the same place, same time, tomorrow morning. Peace and blessings!”  Xenia snatched her headset off and groaned with the fresh wave of nausea that hit her.

Why am I still getting queasy? Come on, baby girl. Don’t do this to
Mama...

She grunted as she rose from her seat and tossed her light green pregnancy pillow
, that she carted around to the studio, onto the floor. Still commuting to and from the studio, she became more anxious to have the one built on their property completed soon. The discomfort wouldn’t ebb. Finding her purse, she hoisted it over her shoulder and started to leave but before she could fully reach it, a sense of warmth surrounded her. She looked around. Nothing. She enjoyed the feeling, as if some imaginary being had draped a warm blanket over her body. The sensation reminded her of her deceased grandmother—the one who had given her the yellow teddy bear.

The wellbeing was so overwhelming and relaxing. She smiled and rubbed her arm as she exited. The cramping had ceased and she sprinted
toward her car, on the verge of doing a cartwheel for old time’s sake. Zapped with an influx of energy, she slammed her door shut, put the key in the ignition and headed toward the highway, fantasizing about all of the cookies she’d bake, calls she’d make and talk show topics she’d explore for future shows. She hadn’t felt this good in weeks, and she sure wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

She bobbed up and down in her seat as she radio surfed, trying to find a song to drive home to. In her new upbeat mood, she landed right upon
the ideal one, a 1970s jam she hadn’t heard in ages—‘Everybody Dance’ by Chic. Xenia began to sing the lyrics—“Everybody dance! Toodalooho clap your hands, clap-your-hands!” She swayed happily to the beat, feeling the rhythm vibrate through her body. She felt like a kid again. Then, as the song ended, Anita Ward’s, ‘Ring My Bell’ began to play.

“Oh my God!” She laughed hysterically. “They are jammin’ today!”

She could see herself running up the sidewalk, her little light blue jelly shoes slamming against the concrete as she and her sister played hopscotch, their ponytails bouncing under the California sun. She knew nothing about heartbreak, disappointment, gang-related murders or being racially profiled. Life was party-filled with blaring ice-cream trucks, fried burgers with cheddar cheese, her mother’s loving touch, cigarette smoke and the first black Barbie dolls. Xenia was becoming intoxicated off of the nostalgic euphoria. She laughed loudly in the car, not caring who stared at her as she snapped her fingers and swayed from side to side to the music. Life was good, life was damn good...

****

“So, is this okay?” Saint pulled out a couple dresser drawers in the guest room, ensuring they were empty.

“S
aint.” the old woman covered her lips with her trembling hands. “This room is more than enough. It’s beautiful. I have plenty of space. Thank you so much.”

“No, thank
you
, Beset.” He hugged her. “There is a bathroom that we rarely use right down the hall here. The boys use a different one, closer by. Tomorrow, I’ll go to the store and get you anything you need.”

“That
shall not be necessary, Saint. I have all that I need. I’d like to cook for you and your family though sometimes, if you don’t mind.”

He
wasn’t sure exactly what to say. He knew for a fact that he was stalling, and he wanted a bit more peace before the flood came.

“S
aint,” Beset called out.

“Yes?”
He shoved his hands in his pockets.

“It’s an
honor to be able to serve you.”

S
aint smiled. “You’re not the hired help, Beset. I’m grateful, so speaking that way is unnecessary and even if you
were
the hired help, that still wouldn’t be how our relationship would flow.” He paused, contemplating and stalling a bit longer. “Well, I’m going to go wake up Xenia, let her know I’m home and explain that you’re here. Wish me luck.” He grinned before he closed the guest room door and headed to Hassani’s room.

He peered in at the sleeping
child. He then went a bit farther down the hall and slowly opened Dakarai’s door, careful to not make the squeaky door creek. He’d been meaning to put some DW-40 on it, but had repeatedly forgotten. He looked in and covered his mouth, stifling a laugh, when he spotted his son’s butt in the air, and him huddled in the middle of his bed, atop a mound of balled up sheets and his stuffed green dinosaur. Saint sighed, closed the door and headed back up the hall to his bedroom.

He opened the door and
found her, naked from head to toe with the covers loosely covering some parts of her body. Xenia was fast asleep, with a huge smile on her face.

S
aint closed the door behind him and locked it. He slid his shoes off and quietly approached his sleeping beauty. Leaning down near her, he brushed his lips softly against hers, causing her to turn to and fro, in a daze. She roused and blinked a few times, until she could focus.

“S
aint.” She grinned. “You’re home.” She sat up and yawned, stretching her legs. She gathered the sheets around her unclothed body. “How was your trip? Everything okay now?” She yawned again and she sat up against the headboard.

“Not yet, but it will be, baby. How are you doing?” he
asked softly as he scooted closer, reaching over and placing his hand close to her hip before giving her another quick peck.

“I’m good. I had a really good day. I just felt, hell, like I wasn’t even pregnant
.” She chuckled. “I felt like a little girl, hard to explain. She gathered his hands into hers. “Why do you look so tired, baby? The flight?”

“Yeah, it was long but I got
a little rest. I’m glad you were able to sleep.” He rubbed her stomach lightly. “You know, maybe it’s my imagination, but you seem to be showing a bit more since I left.” He grinned.

“I think so, too. I didn’t show this fast with Hassani or Dakarai.” She looked down and watched his hand mov
e over her abdomen. “She’s a little pistol. She had me sick again, but then just like that, it all went away.” She flexed her toes.

S
aint nodded. “Hey baby, I have something important to tell you and ... it’s pretty serious.”

Xenia
’s face immediately registered anxiety as a frown crossed her previously peaceful expression.

“Now baby, calm down. You haven’t even heard anything yet. All I want to do is
to tell you what you wanted to know before I left, and a little bit more, too.”

Xenia
swallowed. Hard.

S
aint rubbed her shoulder and started from the beginning, not stopping until he reached the part about Beset being in their guest room. Twenty minutes later, he was met with a stunned face, and an expression he’d never seen his Queen wear before. She sucked her teeth and wrung her hands impatiently.

“So
, let me get this straight.” Ice was in her tone, sharp edginess and insurmountable anger that Saint could feel, as if the emotions were his very own. It blasted him like cold air, wrecking any semblance of peace. “You have some crazy ass Egyptian relative that wants me to get an abortion so he can still feel like the head mothafucka in charge. You and your father had a confrontation with him and he has threatened that if I
don’t
get an abortion, he will kill all of us. You’ve now brought a strange woman from Egypt into our house, around our children, to add insult to injury. I don’t know her, yet she is asleep in our guest room right now and is supposed to be our new nanny for the time being. And I’m just supposed to swallow this bullcrap, hook, line and sinker?!”