Saint And Sinners (76 page)

Saint took his seat and Angel eagerly followed suit, while Hassani sat between them,
still holding tight to the apples.

“Hassani, you can set those down,” Saint said in almost a whisper as he smiled at
his son.

Hassani leaned over and placed them gingerly on the table, his lips shuddering as
if he was chewing on a piece of lard.

“Hassani, I wish to have a word with your friend. If you even
look
like you are going to interrupt, we will have this discussion elsewhere, without
you being privy to it. In other words, keep quiet. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, Sir.” Sulking, Hassani sat back in his seat, his head lowered like a droopy
cherry hanging from a stem.

“Now look.” Saint clasped his hands and leaned forward. “I invited you here to let
you know that despite how this upsets me, I know my son needs you.” He placed his
hand on Hassani’s shoulder. “I know
what
you are; I know
what
you’ve been doing. I know every damn thing about you…and don’t you forget it. Despite
that, I also understand that you care about my son and that you ran away from him
because you were afraid of me. You were afraid I’d hurt you.”

“I ain’t afraid of nobody and—”

“Save it.” Saint briefly closed his eyes and put his hand up as if completely exhausted.
“Angel, you can’t mind fuck a mind fucker and you are
far
too young to try to play with the big dogs right now. Let’s not waste each other’s
time. You’re not on my level, and that’s not an insult because only punks feel the
need to degrade a child. I am simply saying that you are a baby in my eyes, and until
you earn your dues, there is nothing you can formulate in that head of yours, then
utter, that would
remotely
strike me as factual unless it actually is. Now are you ready to be real with me
or not?”

Angel huffed, leaned back in his chair and gripped the arm, lost in his own deliberations.
Finally, a smile creased his face. Well, more of a smirk.

“Yeah,” he said, rolling his eyes. “I’m ready, man.”

“I’m ready,
Saint
, or Dr. Aknaten. I’m not ya man,” Saint reprimanded.

The boy sighed and threw his head back in exasperation. “Yes, I’m ready, Saint.”

“Good. Now, first things first.” Saint clicked his tongue against his inner jaw and
shook his wrist, causing his Rolex to slightly spin. He grabbed hold of it and readjusted
it as he continued to speak. “As guardian of my son, you are now accepted into this
family. You don’t have a father, and I know you don’t like me because I expect you
to conduct yourself a certain way and no one has ever cared enough about you to make
you follow rules. All of that is neither here nor there. This is the situation we
have, and it’s settled. With that said, I understand that, at times, me interjecting
could pose a conflict of interest; therefore, I cannot offer to adopt you, or anything
of that nature. You have to stay your path, and I have to stay mine. Regardless, if
you need something, you come to me, do you understand?” Saint pointed to himself.

“Yes…”

“Fine. Next issue. I understand that you smoke a bunch of illegal shit, not including
the cigarettes. That will need to stop. No Angel Child Guardian of my son will be
high. It impairs you to the point where someone can do something to Hassani while
you are under the influence. You are either in or out, okay? You want to watch over
him, but now, you
need
to watch over him. Treat him as you treat your younger brother, only not under the
influence.”

“What?! You trippin’, man! I mean, Saint. I can’t stop smoking! It’s the only thing
that calms me down and it’s my inspiration for my art!”

“Really? How would you feel if years from now, you happened to be high, Angel—even
more invested in your habit—and someone stabbed Hassani in the chest, because you
were off doing your thing? How would it make you feel that, because
you
were somewhere getting lit, the person the Creator assigned to you to govern had
been injured, or worse off, killed due to your neglect and addiction. I’m realistic
about this. I know people will be gunning for my son, especially once he gets older!”
He quickly glanced at Hassani, then back towards Angel.

“Angel, you are at an advantage. You, too, are an Angel Child. My Guardian was not.
He was not able to sniff out trouble the same way you can, but he was pretty damn
observant, all the same. I ended up getting fucked up, fucked over and fucked around,
and do you know why?”

Angel hesitated than shook his head.

“Because my Guardian, a damn good one too up until that point, was high as a damn
kite more times than not. He lost track of me, and all sorts of bad shit began to
happen after that. On top of that, I found out that to this day, he has a terrible
hole in his heart now, one that I cannot repair! He has everlasting guilt! I don’t
want you to end up that way. He has it, because I was out in the open, vulnerable.
I don’t know if you are aware of this or not, Angel—especially since I had to do a
little Q&A with my clique to educate myself on the matter—but once a multi-tiered
Angel Child lays eyes on his or her Guardian, and that Guardian lays eyes on them,
and they accept their relationship and wish to cultivate it, that’s for life. It is
binding, like a blood bond. The only time that changes is if the Guardian dies.

“So that means, since you two chose each other, if you both decide to move forward—which
it is obvious you both desire that or you would not have accepted my lunch invitation—word
is bond. I am going to keep it one hundred with you.” Saint slapped the table as he
gritted his teeth. “You are not the type of person I would have chosen for my child,
Angel.”

“Really?” The boy laughed lightly. He turned away nonchalantly then faced Saint once
again, his eyes hooded and his head cocked to the side. “And here I thought I was
your favorite person in the whole, wide world.”

Saint ignored his smart-ass comment and continued on. “You have a lot of problems,
but you also have a lot of potential. You are hardheaded, flippant, defiant, manipulative
and angry. Your anger is misplaced, but I understand it and you have a right to feel
that way. You’ve been through the shit nightmares are made of, so please understand
I’m not judging you for that. You are also getting into trouble though, messing yourself
up early. You’re acting out, because no one acted
in
your favor. If you get a record, they will throw you in jail; worse yet, prison.

“Do you know how many people can’t wait until you turn eighteen? They’ve already accepted
this notion that you will always be a delinquent. All they see is an orphaned Puerto
Rican kid who hates himself and life, and will screw anyone over just to get a little
pleasure. They see you as trashy, careless, lifeless, time-consuming, a waste of human
space, and they don’t even know who you really are, nor do they care to know!”

“Who is
they
, man?” Angel asked flippantly. “I don’t care what anyone thinks of me. If I did,
I wouldn’t even be sitting here!” He finally let his anger show, let Saint know that
he was mad, hurt, and alone.

“
They
is everyone that has the power to lock your ass up!” Saint reached over Hassani and
pointed in the boy’s face, his brows dipped low. “
They
is every authority figure you’ve told, ‘Fuck you.’ And if you
ever
speak to me that way again, the way you did at the school, I will knock your goddamn
teeth down your throat so you can shit molars!”

Angel didn’t flinch, but Saint knew he was scared. His heart rate increased, and he
could smell the fear pouring forth from the boy’s body.

Good. I want you to be afraid because this is serious and you acting like it’s some
game…

“They
is every foster parent that didn’t give a shit about you.
They
is every teacher that saw you could draw and paint, but didn’t encourage you to pursue
it, make something of it because
they
were too busy, jealous, or didn’t care.
They
are all the strangers that pass you by and see a future welfare recipient, someone
nursing off the government’s tit while others who held a damn job, as miserable as
it may have been, had to go through the labor pains. That is who the fuck
they
is and you better
start
caring, because they can make sure that
he
”—he pointed at Hassani—“is open wide to get…fucked… UP!”

Everyone grew silent as Saint flopped back in his chair, anger eating at him, his
chest heaving up and down. He wanted to choke the kid, but a part of him loved the
bastard already.

“Okay.” Angel drew serious. “I will try real hard to stop smoking.” He reached into
his coat pocket that hung along the back of the chair, and handed Saint a plastic
bag of weed.

Saint snatched it away before Hassani had the chance to examine it out of sheer curiosity,
and stuffed it into his jeans pocket.

“And the other pocket.” Saint cleared his throat and outstretched his hand.

Angel looked obviously pissed that he was busted.

“I told you, you can’t mind fuck me. Now hand it over.” Soon, Saint had the other
bag, too. “How dare you bring this shit into my house?” He huffed. “I know you’ve
got more at home, too. Flush it, I mean it.”

Angel nodded in agreement.

“I can tell you aren’t addicted. I can feel—almost taste—addiction because I’ve been
around it, experienced it. But…you do like it a lot, so it will still be a struggle
for you to stop. Angel, stop
now
before it is too late. You are a bright kid. You are talented. You don’t need to
smoke this.”

Angel rolled his eyes. “I ain’t like you. I can’t do everything by the book, but I’ll
try.”

Saint shook his head and grimaced.

“Angel, you and I are going to get to know each other very well. One thing you need
to know about me right now…and my son knows this, so I’m not ashamed to admit it in
front of him again: everything you’re doing, I’ve done times ten.”

The boy’s eye grew a bit wider in astonishment.

“What you see right now is the after photo, so to speak, not the before. I grew up
in the South Bronx and Brooklyn, in the low-income housing. I was out…” Saint began
to count off his fingers, “…smokin’, drinkin’, fuckin’, stealin’ and fightin’. That’s
all I did from the time I woke up until I went to bed. I hated myself and I hated
that I was still alive! Like your parents, my parents died, too; only my father still
had breath in his body, but he may as well have been dead after she passed away. You
don’t know me.” Saint’s eyes narrowed as he said the words real slow, “But you will
in due time…”

Everyone went quiet for a few moments.

“Now that that business is out of the way,” Saint said upon a loud sigh, “let’s discuss
your living arrangements.”

“I don’t want to be adopted. No offense, but especially not by you. You too strict…
I can’t live like that.”

“I already explained to you, that would be a conflict of interest and I’m not allowed
to interfere that way. And trust me, I’m not offended because if you think you are
someone I would want under my roof in your current condition, you better think again.
You aren’t a damn prize.”

Angel crossed his arms, frowning, then rolled his eyes.

“I’m talking about getting you into a stable household, one in which you could trust
the people. Trust takes time, and you’ve been burnt. I get it. I can’t know them though,
I can’t be a part of it, but I can highly suggest you state to your social worker
that you wish to be adopted or at the very least placed with a good foster home where
the people care about the education of the children they take in. I also understand
that you don’t want to be separated from your brother. This has slowed down both of
your adoption choices, and I can appreciate and respect that. Angel, you want to be
my son’s Guardian for a number of reasons. It’s not going to be a cakewalk so get
that out of your mind. I can see bits of your future, and it’s bright, but you have
to start investing in yourself, doing the right thing. No one can love you the way
you deserve until you start loving yourself first. I don’t expect you to change overnight,
but you have
got
to show effort, man.”

Angel dropped his head.

Saint scooted a bit closer and placed his hand on the boy’s shoulder. He swallowed
as his head lowered, feeling all the pain trapped in that poor young man’s body. The
shit hurt like hell.

“Angel,” Saint whispered as he pushed his forehead into the boy’s, coming together
as one. “I know you don’t believe this, but someone loves you. My son loves you, Angel.
He looks up to you, and though he tries to impress you and act tough, he was devastated
when you stopped speaking to him. He sees the God in you, man. He saw something inside
of you that I didn’t…but I see it
now
. My son’s eyes were wide open on this. He is a good judge of character; it is one
of his finer suits. You didn’t have to protect him from those bullies, but you did.
That’s what you do though; you’re a born protector. You protect your brother, you
protect the underdogs, and that is how you got your reputation. You tried to protect
your parents from themselves, but you were just a child. Their relationship was volatile.
There was mistrust, jealousy and anger. Stop blaming yourself for not being able to
stop what happened, Angel. You had nothing to do with that. Even after everything
you’ve been through, you saw my son was in need of help and gave him assistance.

“Yes, you want to get close to Hassani because of what he is, because you know there
are benefits to that, but you also want to do it because it is the right thing to
do, and you know it takes sacrifice. Being a Guardian to an Angel Child is hard work,
but you stepped up to the plate. I know you thought about approaching him every single
day when you put distance between you two. I know you dreamed about him, and I know
you were upset about what happened. I am not going to interfere, you have my word.
You just do what I ask you to do regarding the drugs and all of that, and I will stay
out of your way and let you do what you were designed to do. As long as you are helping
to watch over my son, you have a place in my heart, Angel.”