Saint's Sacrament - Sins of the Father (90 page)

Saint nodded. “It’s hard to tell a beautiful woman ‘no’ when it comes to that. Especially if it is the woman you love and you know she feels the same way. I would’ve done the same thing. Of course that’s not saying much.” Saint laughed, trying to cheer the poor guy up.

“I felt bad afterward because I knew I was about to tell her what was really going on. I didn’t want her to feel used, like I had sex with her again and then set her up.”

“Well shit, I’m sure you two have had sex
way
more than only a few times! You’re sexually active, in a committed relationship, so it’s not like she got broadsided. Look, Jagger, we are going to handle this. You’re not alone. This will work itself out. Just let her do her thing, okay? Keep yourself occupied. We have this case regarding the IRS, my ass might be going to prison and—”

“Ned is on top of that shit and so are we. You are not going to prison, Saint. We’ll get to the bottom of this.”

“Yeah, well, I’m preparing for the worst case scenario because I can’t afford for my family to be dragged through some shit. I already pulled Xenia to the side, though she didn’t want to hear it, and let her know all about the money and everything, so that she and the kids are well taken care of in case it ends up just like I said. My accounts have been frozen, all but one, but I can’t let anyone know about my secret reserve, my stash, and if you know what’s good for you, you will do the same.”

“I won’t need it
,” Jagger said woefully.

“You will. Don’t ever put all your financial eggs in one basket. Always make sure that no matter what happens to you, your family will be okay. That your kids can still go to college. That they don’t have to move out of the house they grew up in and their quality of life doesn’t change drastically. Make sure your wife is squared away, like I did for Xenia. No matter what goes on with me, she’ll never have to work another day in her life if she doesn’t want to and I will have some peace while I’m behind those damn prison bars. That’s important to me…but this isn’t about me right now, so let’s get back on track.” Saint rubbed his head, feeling the worry and a headache coming on again.

“Anyway, we’ve got a full caseload. You have five hate crime cases on your desk that need your expertise. Busy yourself to the hilt, you have to, or you will fall apart during this break.”

Jagger nodded
. “I’m on it, Boss… I’m on it.”

Saint could see the man was struggling, but pulling himself together.

“Good, and when she returns to you…” Saint swooped low, staring the man in the eyes. “She is going to show you a love like you’ve never known. You think you are in love right now, today, this moment. After this brief time apart, you will find out
just
what you two have.” Saint got back to his feet and patted Jagger on the back and walked back out of the room.

Lawrence was sitting down with a bottle of water.

“How’d it go?”

“Good. He’ll be okay.
Is Xenia still talking to Traci?”

“It seems that way.” They both looked down the hall.

Saint took a seat by Lawrence, and the two remained quiet for quite some time.

“What was the Indian’s name, in the
Village People?”

“Little Deer Who Punched
A Saint In the Mouth.”

Saint glared at him and burst out laughing
. “You’ve been around me too long! Where are you getting this smart ass mouth from?! Me, no doubt.”

“Donna asked me the same thing, and yes, she blamed
you
.”

They both burst out laughing again, though they hurt deep inside for their fallen brother…

~***~

“And that is how it
turned out, Traci.” Xenia patted her knee after going into the full love story between her and Saint, from start to finish.

“Xenia
.” Traci rubbed her forehead. “I just can’t believe all of this has happened.”

“I understand. And by the way, I apologize for not telling you the truth about what an Angel Child was, Traci
, but in fairness, it was not my place to tell you without speaking to your boyfriend first. I wanted to give him a chance to address the matter.”

Traci didn’t say anything. She just looked out the window, the sun beginning to make her way past the clouds, elbowing the night out of the way.

“He told you he didn’t want to pressure you. I think he understands you’re confused right now,” Xenia said. She looked down at her knees, her thoughts drifting to places that were a lot less tight and tense than where she resided right at that moment.

“I need some time alone. I just want to go home
,” Traci said, looking tired and broken down.

She
stood and slung her purse over her arm to leave. Xenia followed behind her up the hall until they’d reached Saint and Lawrence, who both sat with their eyes closed and legs parted wide, utterly exhausted. Traci paused and looked at them, then looked up toward the closed master bedroom door. She took a few steps toward it, but hesitated. After a few moments, she knocked softly on it, rousing Saint and Lawrence who began to stretch and yawn in their seats.

“Come in, baby
,” Jagger replied, sounding a lot less beaten down than he had an hour prior.

She opened the door and entered. Saint didn’t appear to be eavesdropping, though Xenia wished she could be a fly on the wall. Everyone just waited. A few minutes later, Traci
came back out and stood behind the couch Saint and Lawrence sat in. She wiped a tear from her eye.

“Thank
s all of you for being here, for trying to help me understand a difficult situation. I’m going home now and I just…want to be by myself. I don’t know if and when I will be back, but just in case we don’t speak again, Saint, I think you are a wonderful man and a talented speaker and author.” She smiled sadly at him. Saint nodded.

“Thank you, Traci.”

“Lawrence, Jagger spoke of you all the time and he thinks quite highly of you. I’m glad he has someone like you in his life. From the times I’ve been around you, you seem to be a very kind and caring human being.”

“Thank you, Traci.” Lawrence smiled up at her and turned away.

Traci walked up to Xenia, and smiled through the tears cascading down her cheeks. She opened her arms, and Xenia accepted the invitation, embracing her tightly, as if she were her own sister. Traci let go and held onto Xenia’s wrists as she looked at her.

“Xenia, you are one of the sweetest women I’ve ever met. You’re a pleasure to be around. I hope
…I hope no matter what happens, we can always still talk.”

“Traci, I will always be here for you. We are still friends. Nothing has changed.”

Traci nodded, turned and slowly walked away until all that could be heard was the front door opening and closing. Moments later, Jagger emerged from the bedroom. He stood there looking at everyone. By all outward appearances, he seemed to be in control of himself. He stepped to them and opened his right palm. “She uh, she returned my key. I’d given her a copy a while back. I really don’t have anything else to report.” He said it so coldly, as if he were on a military operation. “Thank you for coming, everyone. I’m just going to unpack, do some laundry and work out.” He rubbed his eye, as if sleepy. “If you don’t mind leaving, I can just take care of—”

“It’s cool.” Saint stood, soon followed by Lawrence. There was nothing more to say. They knew Jagger didn’t want to hear ‘goodbye’ or a kind word. He simply needed to be by himself. The three filed out of there, closing the door behind them. Saint and Xenia made their way to the silver Lamborghini and Lawrence got in his car and started the engine. Xenia didn’t know what the two were saying, but she was certain they were talking telepathically. They kept looking at one another, their mouths not moving, but their facial expressions
betrayed they were engaged in some sort of dialogue. She didn’t bother to ask, and a part of her didn’t want it shared in the first place. Things were a mess, and only getting worse. It seemed something evil was swarming about, trying to wreck havoc on her and Saint’s lives, as well as those closest around them. She was tired of seeing everyone going through complete devastation but she knew she could only control her own actions and behaviors, no one else’s.

Saint started the car and backed out the driveway as she stared off to the side, daydreaming. She was supposed to have a late lunch with her father later on that same day, one of many. They’d been spending lots of time together, and she was enjoying it immensely. It was one silver lining out of all the bullshit coming their way as a family. She said a silent prayer for Jagger and Traci, and clutched Saint’s hand just a bit tighter as they made their way back home…

~***~

“She’s doing it again.” Xenia’s voice cut through a thick layer of static on the baby monitor. Saint rose, rubbed his eyes and turned on his side.

“I told you about this, and you won’t do anything.” The woman spoke calmly, but the words were clearly not coming forth from a person holding onto any semblance of sanity. He sighed, yawned and slid on his slippers. He had no idea what time it was, but moments earlier, Isis was making noises and Xenia touched his shoulder, letting him know she was going to go see
to her. He’d been marinating in post-sexual bliss, in a dead sleep where only purple haze dwelled. He didn’t even dream; his nerve endings painted all the pictures he needed. Now, that euphoria was snuffed out like a cigar.

He opened Isis’ door and peered inside the enchanted place. All that was missing were floating fairies dressed in pink, glowing tulle gowns and a golden seesaw with large, green, glassy
-eyed bears wearing kind smiles. The room smelled sweet, like freshly baked sugar cookies. Girls. This was what they smelled like. Saint approached the crib and looked inside. There his baby girl was, her golden eyes shining, reflecting his own DNA in their piercing light. Above her were swirls of something, like a thin fog, pink and sparkling.

“It’s plasanta.”

“It’s what?” Xenia whispered, as if the girl were asleep.

“Plasanta. It’s what some infant Angel Children can make to cause objects to move without touching them. Lawrence told me about this while you were pregnant with her. I’m surprised I remembered the name of it actually. You didn’t notice in New York, but it was probably all around those globes you told me about. She is still too young to be able to move objects around just on her own. Plasanta is something only children have
. It goes away after a while, there is no further need for it.” He reached into the crib and grabbed his daughter, pulling her close to him. They shared a mutual smile, an understanding, and by the look on Xenia’s face, she felt like the third man out. It was difficult having a husband like him and psychic children to boot.

“Look,
baby, she doesn’t know what she’s doing. All she knows is that if she is playing and moving her hands about, this dust type stuff shows up, and it attaches to objects and swirls them a bit. One day though,”—he looked at her and rubbed his nose affectionately against Isis’, causing her to laugh—“she’ll be doing the same stuff Hassani can do, well, at least some of it.”

Xenia gulped.

“No matter that this is my third rodeo, it doesn’t get easier, Saint, but I’m trying.”

“Xenia, you don’t owe any of us anything, do you understand me?” He reached
out to her and caressed her cheek. “You are living in a house with a man who can teleport himself, read minds and burn symbols into people’s chests, and now you have three children. Two rambunctious, mischievous boys, one of which can break into just about anyone’s mind like an expert fine art thief, and another who dreams of the future. I could never expect you to be cool with that all the time. I’m your husband, these are our babies; it’s strange, it’s hard.” He laughed lightly as he leaned over and kissed her forehead.

Xenia smiled. She appeared appreciative of his understanding and kind words.

“Speaking of which, I want to take the children out tomorrow, somewhere private, and speak to them about this very thing. Hassani is maturing, and there are things going on. I think he wants to talk to me about them, but doesn’t know how. Dakarai is still disobeying my orders. He is still reading minds and I know, because I know my son quite well.”

“I know he is, too. I can just tell.”

“He is going to slip up and get himself hurt if he doesn’t stop this. So, I need to talk to them and—”

“Da, Da, make shy!”

“What, baby?” Xenia said as she took the baby from his arms. “Are you hungry?”

“Dad Da make shy!” the baby repeated.

Saint grinned.

“Okay, what is she saying?” Xenia asked with a slight attitude as she caught wind of his all-knowing smile.

“She wants me to make her toy shine.” He walked over to her bookshelf and removed one of the dolls.

“Oh, so you’ve been here encouraging this, huh? Showing her little tricks of the trade?” Xenia teased.

“Why of course!”

H
e took his daughter back, causing Xenia to huff. He knew he was gone the second that little girl was born. Isis would be a Daddy’s girl, and she already had her father wrapped around her finger. Hassani and Dakarai could do something dreadful, and he’d lay into them, but let Isis do something not so sweet, then all of a sudden it was,
“Oh, she didn’t know any better!”
when he knew she did.

He couldn’t help it. Isis was his angel. She could do no wrong. He held the doll above them with one hand, and her with the other. All of
a sudden the doll’s eyes started to glow and move about, causing Isis to giggle uncontrollably. Then, Saint let the doll go, and it floated about the room like a pink, buzzing butterfly, bobbing about here and there. Xenia slowly moved out of the way, a slight smile across her face at the whimsical display. And so it continued, until at last, Isis was put back into her bed. She cried a bit, not wanting the fun to end. Saint kissed her cheek while Xenia tugged on his arm. There was no use in it; Isis wouldn’t stop until he was no longer in view. They walked out of their daughter’s room and held hands as they returned to their beds to sleep in each other’s arms a few more hours before the dawn broke…

~***~

“Now look. We have to get this done before your mother is finished cooking dinner. She wants us back promptly, at the house, at six thirty.”

“Daddy.”

“Yes, Hassani?” He had his children lined up as if they were in the military, tiny soldiers dressed in denim and t-shirts, their feet smashing into the soft soil of the grassy area. It was the same spot he’d once made love to his wife on, levitated several feet in the air.

“How long will it take me to be able to do what Dakarai can do?” He glanced at his brother then back at Saint. Much to Saint’s surprise, Dakarai didn’t have a smug expression at that question. The little boy relished having something over and above his big brother, and Saint could understand it. Dakarai was quite intelligent and hip to small nuisances. He knew he would never be like Hassani, so he treasured what he had.

“You won’t, Hassani. I explained to you that your brother is a deaf mute. That is all he can do, but it is a really nice gift nonetheless. You and I have multiple gifts, what they call tiered. Some Angel Children only have one or two. I do not know everything you will be able to do right now though because multi-tiered Angel Children’s gifts don’t fully mature until we reach the age of around thirty-five.”

“Thirty five?! That’s old! I’ll be dying by then.”

Saint burst out laughing. “Hassani, do you think I’m old?”

“Yeah, but you don’t look it. You and
Mommy are both old. Mommy is still pretty though.”

Saint cracked up. Children said whatever they wanted, especially his own.

“Well, thank you, I guess.” Saint grinned.

“It’s true. I looked at some pictures of you, Daddy. Mommy said they were taken before any of us were born. You look the same. Why is that, Daddy?”

“Because we don’t age at the same rate as other people, Hassani, not physically, anyway. We still grow old, however. The understanding behind that is that we have a lot of work to do, so we are given a bit more time and energy to get it all done. Angels never get tired, but we are human, so we do. This is just an extra edge to help us.”

“Edge?”

“Like an extra bonus.”

Hassani nodded in understanding while Dakarai stood there looking utterly confused.

Saint clapped his hands. “Okay. Let’s wrap this up. I’m going to start with Isis.” Isis kept spinning in drunken type circles, falling to the ground and laughing.

Saint picked her up and kissed her cheek. “Your mother is going to kill me, girl. Look at your hair and clothes,
and she just got you cleaned up.” He whispered in her ear before sitting her back down. He reached into a basket he’d brought, and picked out a clear, globe-shaped paper-weight. Hassani and Dakarai huddled close to see what he was doing.

“Okay boys, your sister has shown early signs of psychokinetic abilities.”

Dakarai frowned.

“Dakarai, that’s the medical term for the early ability to move objects, just like Hassani.”

“Oh.” Dakarai smiled.

“Hassani,
I believe your sister also possesses another gift, or at least I suspect. I want to try it out.” Saint showed Isis the globe and allowed her to play with it, rub her fingers along it. She smiled at the object; her eyes became dreamy as she continued to fawn over it.

“Okay baby girl, you see this?” He removed it from her grip, sparking protest. “Shhh, wait, wait…”
he said gently to her as he knelt before her on the ground. “You’ll get it back. Look at it, Isis.”

The little girl looked at the ball, then lunged for it, causing Saint to rear back, keeping it out of her reach.

“No, no, sweetie. Just
look
at it.” Isis stared at the ball after whimpering a bit, no doubt trying to get her father to give in and let her hold the pretty ball once again. “Now, boys, she will begin to concentrate. She is still too young to really do this well, but if she can do what I think she can, then it is truly magnificent. Dakarai, tell me what your brother can do that you can’t.” Saint kept his eyes on Isis.

“
’Sani can move stuff.”

“That’s right. What else?”

“He can reach the cookies Mommy puts away from us, tha ones at tha top.”

Saint snickered
. “That’s true as well, but I meant as far as your gifts, only.”

“Oh. Uh, he can dream stuff and it den happen.”

“That’s right. Hassani has the gift of prophecy, okay, just like me. Isis may have that same gift, only hers manifests differently. She needs a reflector.”

“What’s dat?” Dakarai questioned.

“A reflector is an object that an image can be cast into. It is usually glass, a mirror, even a bed of water. I’m holding up this clear ball so that Isis can stare at it, and possibly do the same. She may not be able to dream out a scene the way Hassani can, but she may be able to hold a reflector and see a quick flash of something to come. This can be quite helpful when someone needs information very quickly. Hassani’s dreams are very detailed and are superior to this, but they take longer. He actually has to be asleep. This is useful for fast answers.”

Then, as if someone flipped a light switch, an image appeared in the globe. At first it was blurry, then
got crisper. The boys’ eyes widened as they drew closer, their heads bumping while they huddled around their sister in amazement. Isis kept staring, as if she were in some sort of trance. In the tiny ball was an image of Saint in front of his computer in his office, fast asleep with a smile on his face. He woke up at one point, looked around confused, then nodded off again. The boys burst out laughing and pointing.

“That’s you, Daddy!” Hassani jumped up and down excitedly.

“Sleepy head!” Dakarai teased as they kept staring. Then, as fast it appeared, it vanished.

Saint smiled and looked at all three of his children. “You see that? That’s what I’m talking about.”

“You know what that reminds me of, Daddy?”

“What
, Hassani?” Saint stood back up and brushed the grass off his knees.

“Mommy takes us to Hollywood Boulevard and there is this funny lookin’ woman with a crystal ball. She got like uh store and in th
a window is a painting of this woman with a ball and inside of that ball is like a castle and stuff.”

“That’s right, Hassani! Very good! Great comparison.”

“What’s a com-pear-son?” Dakarai asked.

“Day-Day, it’s like I learned in school. Like, when you take one thing and put it against another to see like what they have that’s alike and what they have that’s different. Like you and me. Like, we both like cars, but you like trains more than me now. We both got black hair. I’m older than you, you younger than me.”

Saint smiled and tried his damnedest to not laugh. He loved watching them communicate like this and he didn’t dare interrupt.

“So, a com-pear-son is like two things that’s tha same?”

“No, not all the time. Like I said, they can have some stuff the same but some stuff might be different. Okay, look.”

Hassani huffed as if he were becoming annoyed with being such a wise scholar and so highly sought after. “Like Daddy, okay, and Isis. They are Daddy and daughter. Isis is short. Daddy is tall. Isis is a girl. Daddy is a boy. That is a comparison. Isis got the same color eyes as you and Daddy. I got dark eyes, like Mommy. Like that.”

“Ohhhh, okay.” Dakarai nodded his head in understanding.

“Alright now
.” Saint looked at his watch. “We only have a little more time. Hassani, I want you to think about something and make Dakarai guess what it is.”