by Tiana Laveen
“Cruz! Goddamn it!” Jagger screamed as the liquid landed on his shirt. “You’re lucky this is going to be the best night of your life or I’d make you drink it!” The angry man grabbed a handful of napkins and patted his soaked clothing. Cruz ignored Jagger, grabbed Erika by the shoulders, and looked into her eyes, then dropped low and placed his ear to her protruding stomach.
“She’s right! She’s in labor!”
Saint, not having any desire to stand there and watch it all play out right there on the damn restaurant floor, whipped out his phone and casually dialed 911.
“My brother’s wife is in labor. Please send an ambulance…”
Erika could barely focus as the medicine took hold and dragged her to some place numb and soft… She thanked the Epidural Gods for granting her the relief she so desperately needed. Cruz’s big-headed son had crowned, and she’d been told it was too late for medication, but a nurse had mercy on her and slipped her a little mickey, hoping for the best. On one side of her stood Xenia holding her hand, while Cruz stared at her exposed nature with wide blue eyes. With legs far apart, one foot in Cruz’s hand and the other in one of the nurse’s, she bore down one more time and felt the pressure subside. The wail of the newborn filled the room and her cheeks immediately moistened with tears for joy.
“That’s my son! He’s mine!” Cruz exclaimed with pure joy, causing laughter and words of congratulations. The baby was immediately wrapped in a blanket, and handed to Erika. Cruz rounded the bed and looked down at the newborn. The man looked completely and totally in love. Xenia slipped her phone out of her jacket pocket and sent a text message to whom she presumed was Saint. He was sitting out in the lobby with Donna, Lawrence, Traci and Jagger, waiting for the good news.
“He’s beautiful, Erika! I can’t wait to hold him.” Xenia beamed as if the child were her own. Saint had warned her that Xenia suffered from severe cases of baby fever around newborns, but Erika was more than willing to share her new bundle of joy with her good friend. “Look at all of that curly blond hair,” Xenia carefully caressed the baby’s head. “He looks like an angel!”
“He does.” Erika smiled proudly. “Cruz, he looks so much like you.” She pressed her cheeks against the baby’s face and kissed him strong.
“I see me in there,” Cruz stated proudly. “But I see you, too.”
“Okay, now you’ve kept the secret long enough you two,” Xenia kissed her on the cheek and leaned in close. “Tell me, what’s his name, Erika?” Erika looked at Cruz who leaned down and kissed the baby’s lips, then wiped his own joyous tears away.
“His name is Zen Saint-Cruz Black. We blended Saint and my name together. Saint saved my life, Xenia. Twice.” Cruz looked at her with seriousness in his tone. “He took me under his wing and helped me reach my full potential. If I had never met him, I don’t know where I’d be right now. And on top of it all, he could have killed me in India…” Tears filled his eyes. “But he didn’t. He became my salvation, risking his life to help me out of that nightmare. He’s the big brother I never had … a father figure in a way, too.”
Xenia placed a hand to her lips, her eyes brimming with moisture.
“Cruz, I … I don’t know what to say. You named your son after you and my husband? I can’t believe it. Oh, my goodness, Erika and Cruz! Saint is going to be so touched by this!”
“Well, Xenia, if it weren’t for Saint, Cruz and I would’ve never met. I don’t think your husband knows how much we appreciate him and how wonderful he’s been to us.”
“Oh, I’m sure he does.” They all chuckled at that.
Erika held her son closer and kissed his cheek, then his forehead. The tears flowed and the words stopped. Xenia clutched her hand and gave it a squeeze. Cruz glanced at his phone.
“Erika, your parents’ plane just landed in LaGuardia.” She smiled and nodded as she regarded their newborn son.
“Zen, you’re something special, you know that? You are the best gift in the entire world, and I promise you, Mommy and Daddy are going to take really good care of you…”
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Saint bowed down at his altar…
In a special corner of his basement, closed off from the rest of the world, sat a dark table covered in a cloth given to him by his father. In one corner of the altar was a butterfly barrette that his mother used to wear in her hair, a jade necklace, and a half full bottle of her favorite perfume, ‘Evening in Paris’. In a small wooden box, he kept a lock of Hassani’s hair, taken from his first haircut, Dakarai’s first lost tooth, and Isis’ little fingernail clippings from when she was a baby. An onyx container had in it the pair of panties Xenia had worn on their wedding night; he’d stolen them without her knowledge, and kept them under lock and key. After lighting a stick of frankincense, he closed his eyes and lifted his hands in prayer…
“Great Creator, I wish to first give you honor, and express my gratitude. The last few months have been … challenging. I am calling on you to ask for strength. I am not asking you to remove the mountain, but to help provide the tools needed for me to climb it. I understand that it is a great honor to be bestowed with the gifts you’ve given me, despite how at times I have asked you for what I deemed a ‘normal’ life. I am different, and I graciously accept this fact. I am calling on you to ask for healing and peace, not only for New York, but for the world. Each time I’m faced with challenges, I learn something along the way. I must say this has been the worst of all, but I know things are not always as they seem. I ask that you show mercy on the slain people that were affiliated and initiated into the Bloods, Crips, and Savage Skull gangs. I know that some of their ideologies and crimes against humanity make them non-deserving in your eyes, but many have accepted the challenge to assist in the fight against Evil. Creator, I saw Bloods and Crips working side by side to accomplish a Godly goal—for peace.
“So many things were going on that night. I was not able to fully reflect like I can now, but it was nothing short of amazing. I want to thank you for watching over and guiding my big brother, Bomb. He has become the man you intended him to be and he is now showing my first-born son’s mentor how to avoid some of the pitfalls he encountered along the way. He is teaching Angel the ways of the world and the spirit, so that Angel is a better mentor for my son as well. I want to thank you for placing…” he paused, sniffing back his emotions. “for placing Krishna in my life and what I am created to do. Albeit for a briefer time than I would have wanted, he had a significant impact on my understanding of who I am, and what I am set out to do. I wish to thank you for allowing him to speak to me in my dreams, and he continues to do so. That gives me comfort.
“I wish to thank you for the blessing of Zen into our Angel Child family. His father, Cruz, I watched go from a confused recluse to a strong, intelligent, and powerful warrior. I could hear him fighting the duke with all that he had in him, Creator. Telepathically, we were in tune, and he was screaming my name, letting me know he could still hear me, that he was still there, fighting for his wife and child. I have looked into the eyes of pure Evil; I have touched the hands of the blessed and good. I have learned that sometimes the lines are blurred, even within myself. I ask that you give me the necessary wisdom to help guide my children along their rightful path, and that as long as I am here, drawing breath, I continue to be a good husband, a good friend, a good boss, a good supervisor, a good father, a good son, and a good soul to humanity.
“My pride and ego are always being tested. I am not proud of this, but I accept that it is one of my challenges in life. I wish to thank you for assisting me, through my wife and friends, for showing me that being a great leader is so much more than who I can annihilate, protect, and save. Being a great leader is showing compassion, empathy, and understanding—even to those who do not deserve it. I worship you, Creator, just as I bow down to my biological father. He has become a father to me in ways I never dreamed possible. Our relationship continues to grow. I wish to thank you for my mother-in-law, too.
&
nbsp; “Pam has fallen in love. I must be honest and admit I never expected her to be open to dating outside of her race, but she surprised me … and that’s a good thing. She needed this. She deserved a man like Gaspar, and Gaspar respects her. She is an amazing mother to my wife and a superb grandmother. She was supposed to be back in California weeks ago, but because of my wife’s needs, she has remained here, even though her son, who she has missed for so long, has returned to California. That’s love, that’s dedication. She knew Xenia was suffering in some way and needed that connection, even for just a short while. Despite our personality clashes, I know her heart, and it is good. When her voice played on the recording, life was breathed into the dead. It was her voice that they followed. It was her blood that they grasped on to, for she was alive, sacrificing and providing a path to salvation.
“Salvation is your gift to us all Creator, a chance for our spirit to live on. That is why I have an altar, to pay homage and respect to the people who love me, encourage me to keep on living and doing what I must. The selfish part of love is possession, and I wish that my mother, Krishna, Beset, and James were here with me. But their time here was done because you said so. Thank you for your continued love and protection.
Your son and faithful servant, Saint.
Namaste, Amen, and Shalom…”
“Mama was right.” Saint startled and turned in the direction of the raspy voice. He’d been so deep in prayer, he hadn’t noticed someone had entered the basement, let alone made their way over to his private sanctuary. There Pam stood in a dark gray turtleneck and blue jeans, tears streaming down her cheeks. Clearing his throat, he slowly got to his feet.
“Uh, Pam … I—”
“No.” She shook her head and put up her hand. “You don’t need to explain anything, or try to make excuses. You was tellin’ the truth when you told me a couple of years ago that you was psychic. I laughed it off, didn’t believe you. Well…” She looked down at the floor before meeting eyes with him once more. “I didn’t want to believe you, actually. My grandmamma, who I called Mama sometimes, told me when she was in the hospital dyin’ that I was going to have three children.” Pam went to sit on the couch and closed her eyes for a spell, as if exhausted. Saint cautiously made his way over to her, and sat right beside her. “She said two girls, one boy. She told me that the girls would be the same age, and that one of those girls would marry a great man … a special man.
“She said that man would be world-renowned and change all of our lives forever and that one of my daughters would have one child only, and the other would have three children, just like I did. I figured it was the medicine talkin’ ’cause she was in hospice. I had forgotten what she’d said until after you and Xenia got married. Then Xenia had Hassani. I still didn’t pay those words no mind. Then she had Dakarai, and you two broke up for a short spell, so…” She shrugged. “I figured it must’ve not been you. But then, you two got back together, just like I wanted you to, and then Isis came… Saint, when I laid eyes on Isis, all those words my grandmamma said came back to me. I knew for some reason that was the last baby Xenia would give birth to.
“And I knew she was special … and Hassani … and Dakarai, too. And I knew you were different, and it scared me so. I saw things in your eyes, changing colors, ever so subtle, you know. I saw Hassani’s eyes do the same thing several times, and I dismissed it. It was too much for me. But I couldn’t hide from the truth. It seemed like when you moved, the world swayed around you… Then, one day, Isis was playin’ with that doll I gave ’er, and she made it move, all by itself … and she giggled.” Saint lowered his head and smiled sadly. “I knew she could control it, that she was just letting me see it for some reason, like she was tryna tell me something. Something I’d been running from.
“See, when you’ve seen so much evil in the world like I have…” Crying silently, she reached for his hand and squeezed. “It’s hard sometimes to believe that there is good in the world, even a little bit. I’m not an angel, but everything bad I’ve done was for love, or survival. Didn’t make it right, but it wasn’t out of spite or to be nasty to someone else… I just don’t operate like that. I had been done so wrong in life, I couldn’t fathom being loved and truly cared for. I saw how you treated my baby, Xenia, my eldest child, and I wasn’t jealous—I was happy.” Her voice cracked. “So, so very happy! She’d been through so much, Saint. Nobody knew it, ’cause Xenia is private about her personal life, but she and I would talk and she’d confide in me. She couldn’t find a good man and when she did find one, for whatever reason, they just weren’t compatible.
“It was always something. I figured it was because Xenia was so headstrong and set in her ways, but she was a good woman, outgoing, smart and so pretty, and I knew she’d make a good mother one day, too. Seems like she of all people could find someone, ’specially since she was famous and all. And then, she met you… What Xenia had was what I always wanted for her, Porsche, and all the women in my life that I love. I couldn’t understand why it was so hard to find love and for us to take care of the folks that care for us, you know?”
“Yes…”
“My grandmamma cared for everybody, and she had special gifts … dreams. Strange dreams. Some said my grandmamma was crazy. She wasn’t crazy; she was in her right mind up until the day she died. My mother, on the other hand, had some demons, but I surmise that happens sometimes, too.” She drew quiet for a moment, then got to her feet. “I’m sorry if I scared you while you was down here prayin’, Saint. I asked Xenia where you were at ’cause I’m going to go home, back to L.A., tomorrow and I wanted to let you know.”
“Oh … all right, uh, is everything okay?”
She smiled sadly at him and nodded.
“I’m not really sure. Ira is acting withdrawn. Porsche says he keeps away from her, but she heard he’s been hangin’ out with some of his old friends and Saint, they weren’t no good. I know he’s a grown man, but I need to see what’s going on with my baby. I think Xenia will be fine, she missed her mama, but now, my son is needin’ me, too.” She grabbed the banister and slowly began to make her way up the steps.
“Pam,” Saint called after her.
She stopped. “Yes, baby?”
“Gaspar and I have been talking, and I am going to send him back to the L.A. office so you two can be together. He approached me, but before he could get the words out, I’d already made arrangements. I will be taking care of all his moving expenses and he only has to come to New York a couple of times a year for meetings. I will hire a replacement for him out here. Anyway, I want you two to have a nice home, be in a secure part of town together, okay? Please sell your home, Pam, and move to a safer spot. Maybe somewhere in Santa Barbara. Anyway, Xenia and I worry about you over there. Let him take care of you—well, take care of each other. You don’t have to be Superwoman anymore. You’ve found a king.”
She smiled and wiped another tear away.
“I know I don’t have to be Superwoman anymore, Saint. Gaspar and I have had a couple of lover’s quarrels about that very thing. But you see, that’s just who I am. Loud mouth, cursin’ like a sailor, silliness to cover my pain and all. I am always gonna be me. I need to be able to take care of people, Saint. Because ain’t nobody take care of me when I needed it most … and I don’t ever want nobody that I love to feel that sort of hurt, that type of pain. Despite how you and I like to go toe to toe, more for sport than anything else,” she said with a laugh, “I need you to know that I love you.”
“I know you do, Pam. I love you, too.”
“When Xenia told me you’d lost your mama and how she died and how your daddy had done you when you was just a little boy, I loved you hard. I wanted to take care of you, too. I always told myself, ‘Saint ain’t gotta like me, but he always gonna love me—’cause I gave him his rib, his bride, and I raised that little girl right. And he is also gonna love me because he ain’t got no mama, and I’m the next best thang to it. You’re not my son-in-law, you’re my
son, Saint. If Xenia woke up tomorrow talkin’ about she was leavin’ you, you’d still be my child. And since New York sees you as Superman, you can’t tell me what title to take and what label to give up. Speakin’ of titles, what do they call folks like you?”
“Angel Children… we’re called, Angel Children, Pam.”
“You ain’t ask to be who you are, and I didn’t either, but that’s just how the cookie crumbles. I ain’t no Angel Child, but I’m a mama, a grandmamma, a lover, and a best friend. So that makes me Superwoman, all right? And Xenia, too. And all the Queens that clean up the messes we ain’t make, all for the sake of family and peace. We wear an invisible cape. It’s a burden at times, but it’s mine, and neither you nor anybody else can take that away…”
It’s funny how deaths come in threes. Apparently, blessings do, too…
Saint sat next to Cruz on the airplane. Pam had not been in California for forty-eight hours before she called Xenia in a panic, stating that Ira had gone stark raving mad and cursed her out. One thing Ira had always been, according to Pam, was respectful to her.
Xenia had her bag fully packed to deliver a can of whoop ass fresh off the stock room shelf, but Saint demanded that she stay home with the children, and he’d go and check out his brother-in-law, have a bit of face to face time. That didn’t help, but she stopped in her tracks when he let her know one more detail. He’d had a dream about her brother that very morning—an awful dream that drove him to invite Lawrence, Cruz, and Jagger along, too.
After he gave her the grisly details of the premonition, Xenia didn’t say much. In fact, he felt badly for having to break it to her but he’d had no choice. Once the four landed, Pam greeted them at L.A.X. sporting a kimono in poop emoji print, paired with brown leggings. She pulled up in her new hot pink Cadillac that Gaspar had purchased for her and had delivered to her home. She’d always wanted one. Saint resisted telling her he’d almost mistaken her for a Mary Kay saleswoman. Besides, it was obvious she was in dire straits and in no need of taunting. Saint took the passenger seat while the others squeezed in the back. As soon as he and his boys loaded into the car, he was blasted with the details of Ira’s blatant parental disrespect.
