Saved and SAINTified (14 page)

S
aint grabbed her and kissed her passionately along her neck and collar bone. Xenia softened in his arms but continued to halfheartedly fight him, plying at his chest, trying to push him away as his embrace became tighter.

“First the damn teddy bear, now this shit
,” she hissed as he pinned her down on the bed, dry humping her while grazing his soft, lowered lips across her exposed breasts. “We need … to talk about this … Saint!” She struggled beneath him to no avail, not wanting to go down without a fight.

“Well then
, talk to me, baby,” he said coolly.

“Ahhh!”
Her back arched as he entered her with a mighty thrust. “Oh God … you gave no warning!” She slapped his chest.

S
aint laughed huskily as he hooked his arms under hers, fastening their bodies together with deep penetration.

“S…
I,” she gasped. “…can’t take this … you’re. … Saint … I need to talk to you, shit! Saint!”

“Oh, you
can
take it, baby,” he whispered in her ear as he continued to pump deeply within her. “And you
will
take it  ...  all of it. The doctor is
in
… balls deep inside this juicy ass pussy. Take at least two of these orgasms I’m about to give you, and call that mothafucka in the morning…”

****

Saint laughed heartily, causing a large glob of scrambled eggs to fly out of his mouth.

“Ewwww
, Daddy!” Hassani snorted as he pointed at the ground.

“S
aint!” Xenia bent over and picked it up with a paper towel. “If you weren’t being so silly, this wouldn’t have happened.” She giggled. “Silly butt.”

“But look at him,
Xenia.” Still overcome with mirth, Saint pointed to the television at SpongeBob, his mouth still half full with the soft, yellow eggs. Xenia rolled her eyes and walked back over to the large stainless steel stove to flip another blueberry flapjack. SpongeBob continued to dance around on the large flat screen television, gripping his spatula in his tiny yellow hand at the Crusty Crab restaurant.

S
aint stared at her, watching the way her curvy and toned body moved under the thin silk of her long mint green nightgown. Her hair was pulled into a sloppy braided bun, and her toasty pecan skin glowed under the recessed kitchen lights.

I’m lucky
; no, blessed … so blessed. Look how beautiful my wife is … damn…

“Baby,” S
aint called out as watched the television from his position leaning on the breakfast island. He sipped from a glass of orange guice, flaunting a sexy grin.

“Yeah,”
Xenia answered, her back still turned.

“Did you drink your milk this morning?”

There was a long pause.

“I’ll take that as a ‘
no’.” He smiled. “Ya slippin’. Don’t get mad at me if Thomasine has to be named Thomas then.” He lowered his voice before finishing his tirade ensuring the boys didn’t overhear him. “You have to stop fuckin’ around about this calcium, sweetness. Hop to it.” He set his glass down and clapped his hands loudly. “The time is approaching.”

Xenia
turned and looked at him with a beleaguered expression, to which he responded with a wink.

“Give it back!” Hassani leapt out of his beanbag chair, in hot pursuit of Dakarai who had several of his Thomas the Train figurines.

“Speaking of Thomas.” Saint said under his breath as he watched the juvenile antics.

“Oh
, Lord Jesus.” Xenia sighed. “Now that Hassani is all in love with Thomas stuff, Dakarai is taking all of his trains.”

The boys
ran around the living room in a blur. Saint took a long swig of his juice then placed the glass down.

“Okay! That’s enough.” He’d waited, trying to give them time to stop on their own to no avail. “Dakarai, hand the train back over and Hassani, stop having melt downs about it, please. That is what he wants
. He wants you to play with him, to chase him, lil’ man.”

The two boys stopped running. Hassani grabbed Dakarai roughly around the collar of his shirt and pried two toy trains out of his brother’s tiny hands before walking to the breakfast island
and looking up at his father with his big eyes. He slumped down in his chair and lifted his spoon to finish eating his raisin oatmeal and eggs.

“Oh, so now you want to sit with
me again? You were just over there with your juice in front of the T.V. Cool! I like sitting with you, finish your breakfast.” Saint shook his head and smiled.

“Daddy, I need tuh ask you somethin’,” Hassani said, his eyes gleaming.

“Yes, what is it?” Saint smiled at him.

“Somebody asked me what I was ... at school. What am I, Daddy?”

Saint looked at him sternly. He knew this day would come—and here it was, glaring him in the face.

“Hassani, you’re a human being. You’re a little boy—a very important little boy who is loved and cared for by your mother and I.”

“I—I know, but what
am
I? They said mommy is black and...”

“Who are
they
? Who is saying this stuff to you?”

“Kids at school. They didn’t know what you were and asked me but I...”

“Hassani, the next time someone asks you that, you simply tell them that you are a human being but if you want to give specifics, tell them that you’re half-black and part-Korean and Egyptian. What we are discussing right now is called race. It is not an indication of intelligence or if you’re a good person or not.”

“Mommy is brown, you are yellow.” Hassani grinned.

Saint grinned back. “Yes, that’s true—but more important than that, we’re your parents.”

Hassani nodded, “I don’t care that you are yellow, Daddy! I don’t. And I don’t care that Mommy is brown and I look…” Hassani stared down at his arm, trying to pick his color. “I look tannish.”

Saint laughed. “Yeah, you do. You’re very handsome and smart.”

Saint knew this conversation was just one of many to come, and they’d become more and more difficult as time passed. Not for him, but for his children.

Just then, his cell phone rang.

“Hello,” S
aint greeted as he watched Xenia sashay up to him with a plate of pancakes. She sat them down and before she could turn back around, he swatted her behind. She looked over her shoulder, grinned, and returned back to the stove. While Lawrence spoke, he popped another forkful of eggs in his mouth.

“Hi there, soldier!”

“’Sup, Larry Lare!”

“Ahhh, I hate being called Larry.”

“Oh, that’s right, my bad.” Saint smiled as he finished chewing and set his fork down. “What’s up? This better be good for you to call me while I’m at home chillin’ with the fam.”

“You know it is
. My friend Jagger agreed to the proposal. He will be here in a few days.”

“Egggggcellent!” S
aint laughed. “Now, in all seriousness, we will need to meet pronto so as soon as he gets here, let me know.”

“I will. Oh, and I hope you don’t mind, but I already started the interrogation, if you will.”

“I know.” Saint grinned. “I could smell it on you.” He took another bite of his eggs.

“Figures. And here I was thinking I was going to lay some pleasant surprise on your lap. I obviously forgot who I was dealing with.”

“Yes, you did. Hey, hold a sec.”

“Sure.”

Saint took another quick bite of his eggs, tore a piece of the pancake with his bare hands, popped it into his mouth then stood and abruptly left the kitchen. His black slippers shuffled against the smooth marble as he made his way down the long hallway into his office. He closed the door behind him, strolled to his opaque desk and sat down in his black leather chair. Turning on the vibrating massager, he propped his legs up on his desk.

“Ahhh,” he sighed with relief. He’d strained his back a bit during his last exercise rep
and now was paying for it, but had no intentions of missing another workout due to it. “Hey, before you get into what you found out, I need to ask you something, Lawrence.”

“Of course.”

“A couple nights ago, I found out that my son, my oldest son, Hassani, has quite well-developed telekinetic powers, especially for someone of his age, or at least I think so.”

“Wow!” S
aint could almost see Lawrence’s facial expression—he was truly impressed. “When I met him a couple of months ago at your BBQ, I could tell he was gifted, but I wasn’t around him long enough to be able to tell to what extent. He is kind of young though—oonly five, right?”

“Yes
, five and a half. I was seven when I found mine, and I know we aren’t all the same, but isn’t that kind of young?”

“Well, yes, but it is like puberty, really. Some of us start earlier than others. That doesn’t mean that everything else will be fast though. Usually, there is a reason why something like that would start early.”

“Like what? What do you mean?” Saint slowly let his feet down and leaned forward on his desk.

“Well, like there is a pending situation that may require the skills
—so he needs to hone them now.” Lawrence cleared his throat. “The typical age frame for this ability is between seven and twelve. You were on the early end as well. Now, it doesn’t necessarily mean he needs them right now. This is just a theory, okay?”

S
aint was quiet for a moment, pausing to deliberate over what Lawrence said.

“Yeah
,” he answered faintly.

“You sound worried. Is something else going on?”

Saint rubbed his head, leaned back and spun slowly around in his chair until he was facing his expansive window. He looked at the serene pool out back and the vacant guesthouse.

“Well, I thought I would have known, is all
; you know, when it hit. To make things even more complicated, my youngest son, Dakarai, apparently can read people’s minds.”

“You have got to be kidding me
. He is only three, right?!” Lawrence blurted.

“Yes, I know! Exactly…” S
aint felt the hair stand up on the back of his neck. Every nerve in his body screamed ‘Mayday!’

“Okay look
, Saint, do you mind if I come by, like right now and like, just have a visit with your kids? This is fucking amazing!”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s fine,” S
aint rushed. “But what does this all mean? I need answers, Lawrence. What am I up against?”

“It means they are developing fast and now I’m more convinced that
the theory, in this case, is legit. Something big is about to happen, man. Something monumental… ”

****

Two hours later…

“Was that your favorite, too?” Hassani asked as he sat as close as he possibly could to
Lawrence.

S
aint walked the perimeter, eyeing his two sons and his new friend and employee from a distance. He sipped on his iced tea with such a forceful grip on the glass, it risked shattering in his hand. His eagerness for answers, cat-like curiosity and annoyance that he was unable to pick up his children’s early development all mingled together inside of him, creating a chaotic cocktail that rocked his core.

“Yeah, I liked Batman as a kid. Spiderman was awesome, too!”

Saint continued to eavesdrop on the conversation. Bing Wa Cherry’s, ‘Chin Chin’ played in the background while the children moved to and fro, almost to the beat, purely by coincidence.

He knew Hassani really liked
Lawrence. He always asked when he was coming by. The conversation was easy going. Lawrence would make a great father one day, and that day would be coming faster than Lawrence realized...

He turned and saw his youngest child in his peripheral vision. Dakarai twirled around in a dizzying circle. Then, suddenly, the toddler stopped on a dime, as if in slow motion.
Saint locked hazel eyes with his miniature twin. He could feel the pulsating energy and knew that feeling now all too well.

My son is trying to fucking read my damn mind right now
. My three year old son is trying to figure out what I’m up to. … Unfucking believable. … How long has he been able to do this with others?!

He turned away from Dakarai and immediately shifted his weight from one leg to the other then stood still, concentrating on building blockage against the prying tot. He felt Dakarai’s pull back and disengage once he realized he’d been detected by dear ol’ dad. S
aint narrowed on him, his blocking still strong, and now, he fully understood the perplexed look on the young boy’s face—it was the look of defeat. Dakarai stomped away, back toward the house, his favorite water gun in tow.

That’s right, little boy. Don’t forget who
Daddy is. I’m in charge! Damn!

“
Hey, Dakarai, what are you up to?” Saint put his hands on his hips, his eyebrow raised. A mixture of confusion and awareness filled him while he examined the boy.