Saint's Sacrament - Sins of the Father (87 page)

“Traci!”

She stopped in her tracks, her back to him.

“Traci, please!”
he begged. “Just give me ten minutes to prove what I’m saying is true. If you still think I’m crazy, you can bounce and I’ll never call you, I won’t come by, I won’t say anything to you ever again. I promise.”

He heard her exhale as she turned and faced him. He knew what she was thinking
: that she was with a mad man. She believed she didn’t have a choice in the matter, too. He was no longer concerned as long as he could buy some time. It would be emotional currency well spent…

~***~

Lawrence pulled up at Jagger’s place with no shirt on, wearing some old jeans and dark brown, worn flip-flops. He parked haphazardly and raced up to the house, the one that looked like all the others next to it in a new development—a bit younger than his own area right down the road, but these were filled with singles and young couples living together, trying to make a go of it. It was a ‘hip’ part of town, that didn’t seem to fit into Jagger’s personality, but Jagger kept to himself and hated being around nosey neighbors. Living here helped feed his preferred hermit living arrangements. He tapped on the door and soon heard Jagger’s heavy footsteps approaching. The door swung open and there stood Jagger, his eyes glowing like an owl’s and Traci in the background, as if she’d been drawn in watercolor. She simply blended away, like a past love, as if her heart had already walked out the door.

Lawrence could feel the energy
—strong and palpable—and now he saw why Jagger acted so crazed. The woman was slipping away. She’d already resolved that once she left that house, it was over. He had to help his friend. Not everyone was as understanding as Donna and moments like this reminded him how grateful he was to have a wife like her, despite what others thought. Lawrence softly closed the door behind him and timidly raised a hand in Traci’s direction. He smiled and waved. She looked over at him, seemingly relieved that someone else was there, someone who could possibly let her go on her un-merry way. Lawrence ran his hands together, rubbing them until they heated. He walked past Jagger and approached the woman.

“Hi
, Traci.” He smiled and pointed behind her to a chair in the living room. “Can you and I sit down and talk please?”

“Yes, I suppose so.” She turned and walked away, making herself comfortable on the couch. Lawrence spoke
telepathically to the owner of the shattered heart, who still loitered in the hallway.

Jagger, don’t come in here just yet…

Okay…

“Alight.” Lawrence grinned wider and clapped his hands together. “Jagger called me and told me
he shared some information that, let’s say, is a bit…well, strange. Is that true?”

“That is putting it mildly
,” she said dryly as she crossed her legs, seemingly becoming more perturbed.

Lawrence smiled, placed his finger to his mouth and hushed her, causing her face to contort in an expression of disbelief.

“The quieter you are right now, Traci, while I explain this to you, the more you will be able to truly hear me. Emotions are high right now.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a coin.

“Traci, Jagger is similar to this dime.”

She rolled her eyes and sighed impatiently.

“He has two sides. One side everyone can see, the other side he has to let you inside in order to reveal it. Like this dime, you’d have to actually touch the object and turn it around in order to see. The side you can’t view, the one he told you about today, is the back of the dime. When you look at him, you see the color silver.” Lawrence smiled. “You see ten cents currency, ten percent of a dollar. The other side of him shows so much more.” He turned the dime around—but it spun, and spun and spun while he held it, causing Traci’s mouth to drop open.

“This isn’t a magic trick,” Lawrence said. “Stop,” he added quietly, and the dime no longer budged. “Now, you see, here is the back of the dime. There is a torch, olive branch and oak branch. Most people don’t know what these symbols mean, nor do they care. All anyone cares about is the front of the dime, because it is money. The back is just as important, however, if not more so.” He shot a look out into the darkened hall. Jagger’s eyes glowed brighter, and he looked downright pitiful. Lawrence looked back at Traci. “The back says, ‘The United States of America’ and ‘E Pluribus Unum’, which means, ‘One out of many.’ That is what Jagger is.” He pointed out into the hallway. “He is one of many, but he is rare, nevertheless. He is not alone, Traci. He also is not crazy. This is a straight-laced man. I’ve known him most of my life. Now…” He clasped his hands together. “Saint and Xenia are on their way over. I believe Xenia’s insight can be of great benefit to you because she’s already been in your shoes. Donna would’ve come, but she is—”

“…On bed rest.”

“Yes.” He nodded and grinned. “Not to mention, they both stated they’d come if needed anyway. It appears, in typical Jagger fashion, he tried to handle this on his own, and it didn’t go too well. But I do applaud him for trying.”

“May I ask what Xenia and Saint have to do with this?” She looked out into the hallway,
as if afraid Jagger would pop up and start screaming in tongues.

“Ahhh
.” Lawrence nodded. “I’ll just let them explain that once they get here.”  Just then, the doorbell rang. Traci sighed and buried her face in her hands. There was quiet talking, then Lawrence watched as Traci caught sight of Xenia. The woman leapt off the couch, almost barreling the woman over as she wrapped her arms tightly around her. Xenia kissed the side of Traci’s face and stroked her like a kitten while Saint rubbed his eyes and sat down, his car keys dangling from his long fingers.

“We had to call Xenia’s sister to come over and stay at the house while we left, or we would have been over here a bit sooner
,” Saint explained, obviously half asleep.

Lawrence
chanced a glance at Xenia then at Saint, pleased to see they were dressed just as badly as he. Saint sat there in silky black pajama pants, a wrinkled T-shirt and black slippers. Xenia had on ‘Hello Kitty’ pajama pants with a matching tank top, and her hair was in a sloppy afro-ponytail. She did have on Nike gym shoes, however.

Saint ran his hands over his pants, yawned then screamed out
, “Jagger, get in here, man.” He snapped his fingers. “No one is going anywhere until the truth is laid out on the table…”

~***~

Saint stared at everyone in the room. Xenia was by his side, leaning back into the couch, trying to stay awake no doubt. Lawrence clutched a dime, and Saint had no idea why. Was it 1965 and he needed to make a phone call? He looked over at Jagger, who was pacing the room, his nerves so bad, he thought the man might burst out in tears.

“What, exactly did you tell her?” Saint asked as he slumped back in his seat and crossed his left leg over his right thigh, his shoe dangling half off his foot.

Jagger looked at Traci then back at Saint. “I told her the story of when I tried to slit my father’s throat. I explained to her what happened in that story, the turn of events. I chose that story because it involved Lawrence, my mother and a pivotal time in my life. It was the awakening, so to speak, of what I was.” He took a deep breath. “Traci now thinks I’ve flown the coop, that I’m crazy as hell, and she wants to leave me.”

“I didn’t say that
,” she whispered, avoiding his gaze.

“You didn’t have to, I can sense it.”

She refused to look at him as she rubbed her thumb along the inside of her palm. She appeared relaxed now; matter of fact, she appeared a bit bored. Saint knew that wasn’t it at all—the woman felt surrounded and she was simply trying to survive the ordeal and get the fuck out of dodge.

Saint ran his finger along the side of his mouth, scratching a slight itch as he leaned forward, looking directly at her. “Look, Traci. Jagger could have picked a less, um, what’s the word?”
—He massaged his forehead—“…A less graphic story. It’s a real story though, it happened in his life and it is a lot for anyone to bear. Now,” he said upon a sigh. “Life is complicated. There are things going on in this big world that people don’t know about. I’m not here to convince you to stay with this man. I’m here to show you that he didn’t lie to you. The same way you feel right now is how my wife felt, Traci.”

Traci shot Saint and Xenia a look as she sat by herself.

“I told her something similar, but I also
showed
her, and she was frightened, okay? She, too, wanted to leave, but I had done something to convince her I was telling the truth. So, I know that magicians fool the human eye, and so, whatever we do,” he said, standing—and Lawrence following suit, “you can say is just the sleight of hand. But, if you tell us what to do, you can’t say we had this prepared in advance, or are trying to trick you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Traci, I want you to take some real deep breaths for me. I want you to think of something, anything at all. I am going to tell you, when you are ready, what you are thinking about. It can be an object, an idea, whatever you wish.” He pointed to Lawrence. “Lawrence is a smart cat. He is good at computers, numbers, gadgets, and data. But he is also well versed in history and historical references. That is the part everyone knows about. The other part of him is that he can do beautiful, enchanting things with his hands. He can create ice, fire, storms, rain, you name it. He can make things transform. Jagger here has heightened senses. He sees, hears, feels, smells and tastes things stronger than others. Even more impressive than that, Jagger can change history—at least in the mind of the person who possesses such memories. He can read minds as well, we all can. We all have various strength levels, however, to read a person’s  mind. The person needs to be open, or it will take significantly longer for us to do so.”

“Saint is the most powerful out of the three of us, Traci
,” Lawrence chimed in. “Saint is not like the dime. He is like finding a three dollar bill.” He grinned.

“I know this is a lot of information, but stay with me here
,” Saint pleaded.

He shot Lawrence and Jagger a look, as if a secret meeting needed to take place.

A, don’t do anything too overwhelming. We don’t want to scare her even more than she already is.

Both men nodded in understanding.

“I am also a healer. I can cure disease and afflictions. I don’t want to get into that too much right now…” He put his hand out in front of him like he was trying to balance something on the top of it.  “But I’m just putting that out there. I can also move objects with only my mind, levitate, transport my spirit to other places and dimensions, and a wealth of other interesting factoids. I wouldn’t even know about the gifts I have to the extent that I do were it not for these two men right here. According to Lawrence, I will continue to discover more gifts as time progresses and I’m blessed that they will help me through this. Jagger is a good man, Traci. He is a damn good man.” Saint paused.

“They don’t just work for me, I love these guys. Now, enough of all of the explanations and sappy stuff. Let’s get started. You let me know when you’d like me to read your mind, and we can begin.”

Traci swallowed then stared at Xenia, her expression saying, ‘Is he for real?’

“Traci, it’s okay.” Xenia smiled. “Trust me on this, it will be okay. Just let them show you, instead of telling you.”

“Okay, right there!” Saint laughed and pointed at her. “I know you weren’t ready, but you just thought, and this is verbatim, ‘All of these people are crazy. I’m in a cult.’”

Traci gasped and covered her mouth with both hands, causing everyone but Jagger to laugh.

“Now, just so you don’t think it was a fluke, give me a real thought, one that is calculated. I’ll wait.” Saint smiled and crossed his arms over his chest.

Traci lowered her head
. “Okay, I’m ready.”

Saint stood there for a
while, rubbing his chin.

“Okay, I’ve got it. Now typically, I need to feel someone’s chest, their heart to be exact, to do this to a stranger or someone who is closed off, but since you’ve allowed me in, I can read it fairly clearly. You first thought
is about how you have clothes left over here, and wondered how you were going to get them back. Then right after that, you thought about an object. You focused on a rug—a rug in your apartment I presume. You envisioned it and cast it my way. It is orange and black, hand-woven, and is right in front of your entranceway by a plant.”

“Oh my God
, how did you know that?”

Saint didn’t respond. He wanted her to marinate in the moment. He turned his back and casually took his seat. He pointed to Lawrence without looking at him
. “Man, your turn.” Then, he took Xenia’s hand and looked down at the floor coolly as the two men played their parts.

“I’m sure you remember the dime I used to try to describe Jagger. Let’s take this same dime and do things to it…like freeze it, melt it, make it entertain us.” Lawrence grinned as he made the dime spin around between his fingers once more, then he stepped back. The damn dime spun on its own in thin air.

“Oh my God…” Traci’s mouth dropped open and stayed that way for quite some time. Lawrence took a deep breath and blew on the dime, making it fall back, as if it were lying on a table, but it still levitated in the air. Next, he stuck his index finger in the air. After a few moments, he circled the dime, then blew on it, causing a malformed ice cube to form all around it, encasing it in a solid state.