When Saint Goes Marching In

by Laveen, Tiana

  “Saint, you’re fast! We didn’t even see what was happening until you had already helped Ulysses up.”

  A strange feeling came over him as he walked back up to the front of the room. It was the same odd feeling he’d had had five years ago when he rushed around the room quickly setting the mood for the conception of his first born. It was the same one he felt when he heard Mona yell and he raced back to her and Sergeant Kane’s bedroom. He pushed it out of his mind and continued.

  Saint looked around the room. “There is going to be a salary freeze for two years. The reason why is because we have to hire many new people who are specialists in their given fields. We are building new Rainbeau Haven centers and starting the Queen program, and this means big expenses. I do have one bit of good news, however. Your insurance will be increased. I thought some of the dental and co-pays were too high for your premiums, so that adjustment will save you and your families some cash. Also, due to the passing of my wife’s dog, Sphinx, soon after she and I met, I want to set up pet insurance for anyone who is interested. We are also offering incentive programs such as, if you volunteer at a center, you earn points and a chance of being entered into an annual drawing to win prizes like vacations, cars, boats, you name it.”

  An excited hum flitted across the room.

  “So again, I’m sorry about the salary freeze but there will be other things to help make it not so rough and at the end of the two years, salary increases will be reinstated,” Saint said solemnly. “At this time, I’d like for you all to prepare to update me on your projects. We will spend the next two hours going over this. Please get your laptops out and I’ll be right back.”

  Saint smiled and expeditiously exited the room and made for his office. He closed the door, locked it and headed over to his new desk. The wooden maiden’s nipples drew a chuckle from him. He picked up his cell phone and grabbed a business card out of his laptop case pocket.

  He sat down and dialed. “Hi, may I speak to Lawrence, please?”

  “This is he,” the man said breathlessly.

  “This is Saint, Saint Aknaten. We met while I was in Colorado on business.”

  “Ah yes, I know who you are, Mr. Powerful!” Lawrence laughed. “I took the liberty of looking you up online. Now I see why I thought you were a Porn Director.” he laughed. “Those are some books you’ve written!”

  Saint chuckled. “Yeah, very perceptive. Um, I have a question. Wait, did I catch you at a bad time?” Saint asked.

  “No, just finished my morning jog actually. I told you to call me whenever you had questions and I meant that, go right ahead.” Lawrence encouraged.

  “OK, great.” Saint lowered his voice to make sure no one would listen from the outside. “Something new has come about. Well, it’s not new but I never paid much attention to it before. I noticed something about me, about what I can do, and it baffles the hell out of me.”

  “Such as what?”

  “My speed,” Saint answered. “I can move very quickly when I want. The first time it happened, about six years ago, I shrugged it off because I was in the middle of something important. It happened again recently when I was preparing a special romantic night for my wife. I thought it would take me upwards of three hours at the least to get everything ready and I was done in ten minutes, twelve max. I lit over a hundred candles and put flowers everywhere, the food out on the table, and I also cleaned the house, top to bottom, you name it, it was done. I don’t even remember doing half of the stuff that I did. It is like I blacked out.” Saint put his elbows on the table and rested his head in his hands. “And just now, I raced over to a guy who almost fell out of his chair and was there to catch him before he could bust his ass. He was quite a distance away.”

  “Sounds like you’ve got flash,” Lawrence said.

  “Flash?” Saint repeated. “What’s that?”

  “Let me ask you something, can you create fire, a frigidly cold breeze, ice and other acts of nature with your hands or mouth?” Lawrence questioned.

  Saint hesitated then answered, “Yes.”

  “Yeah, only the ones that can do all three or more usually have flash, too. It looks normal to other people who aren’t like us; it just looks like you are walking briskly to normal people. You’re moving fast to them, extremely fast, but it doesn’t look like what is actually going on because they don’t have a trained eye for this. This is happening on a different frequency, a different vibration. In actuality, you are almost moving at the speed of light. It happens when you are very focused on something, or something is urgent and it requires you to meet a deadline. If what is going on needs to get done quickly in order to save someone from injury or death or to preserve something precious to you, your body will automatically do it because your brain is saying it’s urgent. If you don’t want it to happen, then you have to literally sit down somewhere and meditate. That will stop it,” Lawrence explained.

  Saint quickly reflected on the night he and Xenia created Hassani. Once it hit him what he wanted to do, he was nervous that he might not make the conception window in time, due to that evening’s earlier events. He felt ravenous once he got into the house. He hadn’t even considered the conception even an hour prior, then all of a sudden, he had to have her and he had to give her a baby, immediately. He needed her to refuel his energy through creation, but he also wanted to give her what she wanted. It drove him to lose his mind and become the animal that he always knew he was deep down.

  He’d fucked the shit out of her, and he took her roughly, like a tyrant taking a mere possession and using it to his advantage.

  He remembered thinking about it the following day, and it troubled him.

  He was afraid he had hurt her. He’d noticed bruises on her wrists from when he mounted and restrained her. Saint asked her about it, but she seemed oblivious to what he was talking about and looked just as surprised about the bruises. It was apparent now – she didn’t feel any major pain from their rambunctious lovemaking at the time it was happening. While he was in the act, he’d felt like he was moving a hundred miles a minute but he couldn’t stop himself. He was so hell-bent on making sure he got her pregnant that day, nothing else at that point mattered. He ensured that with Dakarai it didn’t happen again. They planned their second born months in advance.

  Lawrence added. “What we call ‘nature acts’ is what you have. I can make fire with my hands. I just rub them together and concentrate. Some of us can’t do nature acts at all, and some like you, though more rare, can do all of them. One theory is that if you’re able to change environmental conditions like that, then you need to be able to contain them should a fire rage out of control or a frigid temperature put someone in physical jeopardy. Again, Saint, you’re powerful and a rare find. I doubt that there is more than twenty of your type in the whole world. One is an African living in Morocco. He’s a highly sought after medicine man that I personally met. His name is Samir.”

  “One day I will need to speak to him,” Saint said, as he rubbed his forehead.

  “He most likely already knows about you. He knows about all of us. Anyway, you know why you can do it, right?” Lawrence asked.

  “Well, I’ve been leaning towards the fact that when I’m dealing with someone who has perpetrated a crime against humanity, that there is some sort of Heaven and Hell connection. I just do it instinctively.”

  “Right, there is a Heaven and Hell connection though we don’t all call it that. Some call it saved in grace and fallen in grace. If you feel compelled to use the gifts, do so as you have been. When you feel the urge, it means that the person you are dealing with, on some deep soul level, needs to receive that but always remember the karmatic rules. Don’t break them, ever. The natural elements are very powerful. No words are needed. Fire speaks for itself. Storms and floods speak for themselves. The fact that you can create these means so much more than you may have initially realized.”

  Saint deliberated briefly on what Lawrence had said to him.

&n
bsp; “And for the record, you don’t age physically like other people anymore.” Lawrence cleared his throat.

  What? “What do you mean?”

  “Saint, when your gift became fully developed, whatever day that was over these past five years or so, that’s the same day you stopped aging at the same speed as other men. What you look like right now is how you will look for probably at least another five years. Most people begin to look a bit older every year or two. With you, it’s more like every seven to ten years.” Lawrence cleared his throat again.

  Saint closed his eyes and drowned in disbelief.

  “Like I said, I looked you up,” Lawrence said cheerfully, changing the topic. “I wanted to find out all about you since you were blocking me and honestly, you are such a unique one I was curious as to what you were into,” Lawrence confessed. “I read a couple of your books. You’re phenomenal, man. I want you to know also that my wife is Black,” he laughed.

  “No shit! Really or are you just pulling my leg?”

  “We’ve been married for four years,” Lawrence chuckled. “There’s more like us around the world, Saint, with varying degrees of the gift, and many of us are in interracial marriages. There may be something to that and I never really thought about it until now.”

  Saint was intrigued. “Lawrence, how is your historian job going?” he asked as he spun around leisurely in his chair.

  “Honestly, the museum I work at cut my hours and I don’t get called by the college anymore due to budget cuts. I love my job but it is affecting my income drastically. I love American Indian history; that is what I teach, as well as classes about International Indigenous people. That’s my passion. I substitute teach at the high school sometimes. There just doesn’t seem to be any jobs around that can give me just enough to make sure food is on the table at all times. We’d like to have children but I’m afraid we are just too financially strapped right now and my wife works a job in customer service. It’s never enough, plus, she hates telemarketing. I wish I could afford to let her come home and work on her artwork, she’s a fabulous painter, but I just can’t right now.”

  Saint rubbed his chin. “Hmm…let’s see. How would you and your Queen feel about moving out to sunny California, Lawrence? I have a wonderful job opportunity that I think may fit you to a T.”

  * * *

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Saint watched the other speakers walk up the podium. He looked out in the audience, filled to the brim with beautiful Queens of varying shades, sizes and appearances. The bright, blazing lights shone on him and the other seated speakers, causing Saint to become increasingly warm. He looked down at his watch then back up as he waited to approach the stage. A part of him was furious, though he tried to stay on the topic at hand.

  Xenia had barely spoken to him since their night of passion. He had called her and texted her, only to receive messages such as: ‘I love you, haven’t forgotten about you. Taking care of some things.’

  Her vagueness made him uneasy and he found her hard to read. She seemed to be a moving target. Whenever he’d settle into bed to try to harness her energy and figure out what she was thinking and what she was up to, she’d drift away and evaporate like smoke, causing him unbelievable frustration. Saint cracked his knuckles and his ears picked up the closing statements from the last speaker. The host re-approached the stage.

  “Without further ado, we bring you Dr. Saint Aknaten!”

  The entire audience seemed to come alive with ladies clapping, whistling and jumping up and down as if he were a sexy R&B singer. Scarface and Too Short’s song, “Fuck Faces” started to play. Saint smiled appreciatively as he stood and took the stage. He moved around, his microphone pinned tightly to his suit jacket.

  The silence returned and the music slowly faded. You could hear a pin drop.

  “I want to thank all of you beautiful ladies for coming out tonight,” Saint finally said.

  “We love you, Saint!” someone screamed. “And you are so fine!” Laughter erupted. Saint grinned.

  “I love you, too, and thank you, Queen!” There was more applause. “Tonight, you’ve heard from some very talented people who want you to have the very best in life. Whether that best is with a Black man or not is not my focus. I don’t care who it is with, I just want you to have it. By expanding your options, however, you help ensure that you get what you deserve. Now, they saved me for last tonight because I’m going to talk about sex.” More applause and laughter erupted from the audience. “So, I can’t imagine why I’d be the last speaker,” he said with humor.

  “Some of you have never been with a man, sexually, who wasn’t Black. That may scare you, the unknown. I know you’ve heard it before in various ways from other people, but let me reiterate this. He is just like the brothas you’ve dated, his skin is just lighter and his hair texture, different. Everything else is the same. Please don’t believe this myth, ladies, about the penis size. I’m trying to watch my language tonight, because I’m in front of women, but…”

  Someone screamed out, “No, say how you feel! Talk to us like you do the guys!” The crowed tittered.

  Saint’s voice boomed. “Really?” he laughed. “You really want me to talk dirty to you?” More people laughed and clapped. “You all are future Empresses. I thought you were ladies?” he teased. “OK, fine.”

  There was thunderous applause as Saint took off his microphone, removed his blazer and stood in his fitted white shirt.

  “Goddamn!” someone yelled, drawing more snickers and giggles from the crowd. Saint put his microphone back on, this time attaching it to his shirt.

  “Now remember, you asked for this. I tried to be nice,” he warned.

  “Come on, Daddy! We can take it!”

  “You can take it, huh?” Saint licked his lips.

  “Yes, you sexy son of a bitch. Bring it!”

  Saint shook his head. “OK, here it is, ladies. If you want to be fucked right, the man has to first get into your spirit, your mind, your desires. Fucking is an art. If a man thinks that because he is Black, he has the monopoly on big dicks and that is all he needs to woo you, then you will be lying there disappointed while his ass is asleep with a goofy grin on his face. You didn’t get shit except no orgasm and utter disappointment! He may have even had you suck his dick and he didn’t extend the same courtesy by eating your pussy or if he did, it lasted all of thirty seconds and he did it all wrong.” That got the crowd going. “If that man is in love with you, he will do anything, and I mean anything, to please you. He will eat your ass, eat your pussy for hours on end if that is what’s needed, and he won’t bust his nut until you get at least one in first. All of you can have multiple orgasms. If you have a pussy and a clit, you can have them. If you’re not having them, then your man is not doing it right. I help teach men how to fuck, amongst other things, so that they can be better lovers for you. Sex is not everything, but it is crucial, it’s important. It’s the glue that helps bind you two together because of what it means and what it does to your core.

  Saint spotted quite a few heads nodding as he spoke. They could relate.

  “Ladies, you release Oxytocin. Men do too, but it doesn’t have the same ramifications. Men release dopamine, which is purely pleasurable and makes us less attached after physical intimacy because it is strictly pleasure seeking and it’s all about us getting a nut. Dopamine is addictive. It can make some men sex addicts. Oxytocin is a natural and nurturing high that you ladies produce quite a bit of. It is a naturally produced hormone in your body that goes into overdrive when you’re being sexually stimulated but I also believe, as well as some of my colleagues in the sex therapy field, that it causes women to become more emotionally attached to your partners.” He paused briefly.

  “The better a man is in bed, the more Oxytocin you’ll produce. That’s one reason why so many women have trouble leaving a man who treats them badly but is really good in bed. It isn’t because they are a glutton for abuse, it’s because they’ve become a
ddicted to him! They have a physiological response when that son of a bitch walks through the damn door. Their pussy gets wet just from hearing his damn voice on the phone! This is why you have to be careful about who you let inside you.

  “If you fuck around with the wrong person, you’ve set yourself up. He doesn’t even have to touch you once the bond is already established. When you are in labor, you release this hormone. It helps bond you to your child. You’re emotional. This is nothing to play with because once that bond is there, it takes three times the power to break it. Did you hear me? Three times the strength! Something you find unbearable has to happen and you have to reach your breaking point because it’s never easy to just walk away once this is set in motion.

  “Sex is more than physical that is why it’s so important. Good sex, however, is not enough to sustain a marriage. The relationship has to be on solid ground. There has to be mutual respect. There has to be a coming of togetherness. Because the perfect man for you may be Caucasoid, Mongoloid, or Native American, you have to have an open mind. Some of my colleagues have told me about this pink penis phobia some of you have.” The audience roared with laughter. “Inside, your pussies are pink too so it’s a perfect match!” Hundreds of women stood to their feet, laughing and clapping. “Don’t get hung up in colors, get hung up in how that dick makes you feel! Is he making you cum? Are your legs shaking? Are you calling out that mothafucka’s name? Call that mothafucka, ‘Daddy’ because he earned that shit! If he isn’t covered in sweat by the end of that fucking session, then he didn’t work hard enough!” More applause and laughter.