by Tiana Laveen
Saint sat back and thought, not initially recalling what Raphael was talking about. “Oh, yeah. The rabbit in Mrs. Mullen’s class. We were too old to have pets in the classroom, but she insisted,” Saint laughed.
Raphael smiled, “Yeah, but the rabbit was sick, remember? Mrs. Mullens left the room to have someone remove the rabbit, and when she returned, the rabbit was hopping again. She turned white as a ghost because the thing was practically dead – until you touched it.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t breathe life into it or whatever the hell that book is talkin’ about. I didn’t push on that rabbit’s heart.”
“Maybe you did. You were cradlin’ it in your hands real close. You rubbed its fur against your face and then a minute later, the rabbit’s feet were thumping against your stomach. No one else got the connection back then, but I found it strange, and so did Mrs. Mullens.” Saint sat back and thought for a moment, then put his head down.
“OK, now listen to this.” Raphael opened the book back up. “This same spirit, the Angel of Mercy, is in rare circumstances joined with the Angel of Death at the same time that the spirit’s placed inside the child. Folklore states that when the two come together, they create a love child. The Angel of Death isn’t feared by children or those who wish to die. That openness allows the Angel of Death to pick and choose from a select group of babies still in the womb, and those babies will have the gift of death. The Angel of Death does not breathe life into the child, as the Angel of Mercy does. Instead, this entity seals the gift with a kiss, in the form of a diamond-shaped birthmark which is typically on the top of either foot or the near the ankle bone. These children and adults are able to accurately predict death as well as wreak havoc in the lives of those who consistently bestow evil upon others.” Raphael slammed the book closed. “Take your shoe off.”
Saint looked at him sharply. “I’m not taking my damn shoe off! Have you lost your mind?”
“Let me see your foot and ankle!” Raphael insisted as he dropped to the ground and began pulling at Saint’s pant legs.
“Would you stop it! Get back up!” Saint said, looking around the library frantically. “You don’t have to look. I’ve got it, alright? The birth mark is on my right ankle. It’s barely noticeable. It’s shaped like a diamond,” Saint said, avoiding eye contact. Raphael sat back in his seat smugly with a look of satisfaction on his face as he picked the book back up.
“Some children only have the Angel of Mercy discernment while others may have only the Angel of Death. In the rare circumstance when a child is blessed with both, they can see, heal, and reveal pending timelines of others. If the child chooses to harm without provocation, however, there will be karmic consequences. The only way that a gifted person may use the power is in life-or-death situations or those in which a blood relative, twin-flame, or soulmate is in danger.” Raphael slowly closed the book again and sighed. “See, Man? Remember how you always seemed to know from your dreams when someone was gonna die? Can’t you see what’s goin’ on here?” Raphael looked at Saint, who was now deep in thought, gazing out the window.
Raphael shook his head and began reading again. “The Angel of Death empowers the child with the ability to predict times and causes of death, and once the gifted one reaches the age of thirty-five, it grants the power to create smoke, cold air, ice, and fire. At this age, the gifted child is considered mature enough to handle the great responsibility. The touched one may use these natural elements to foresee destiny and create a heavenly atmosphere for a deserving person who’s afraid to cross over and meet God.”
“I don’t want to hear this,” Saint said. “I can’t handle this right now. I was fine when it was just dreams. I don’t wanna do anything like that. The dreams are bad enough, and I was dealin’ with it, but this – this is too much.” Saint turned his back towards Raphael.
“You can handle it, and you will handle it,” Raphael demanded. “You don’t freak out like this. What’re you afraid of? This isn’t like you, Man? I think this is cool as hell! You’re blessed, Man!” Raphael said.
“It’s not cool, Raphael. You said yourself that my dreams used to creep you out, and you never wanted to hear about them. How do you think I felt? And why didn’t I see my mother’s own death in advance? Don’t you think that’s kind of cruel that I can see other people’s futures, but I couldn’t see hers? What type of sick, twisted curse is this? That’s the only death I would’ve liked to have seen in advance, so I could’ve stopped it.” Saint leaned back in the uneven chair.
“Saint, that’s just it. You weren’t supposed to see it because you’re not always meant to interfere. There would’ve been ramifications. The ones that you can see are for a reason. Just like you said, your gift seems to be sporadic, right?” Saint nodded.
“That’s probably why. You’re one of the rare ones.” Raphael smirked and crossed his arms over his chest, confident in what he had just unveiled to Saint. “You had the kiss and the breath from both Angels before you were even born. This is big, Man.”
“I was already odd because of my ethnic mix. I was already odd because of my preferences. I was already odd because of what I talk about and do for a living. I don’t need anything else to help me stand out from the crowd! We grew up in South Bronx. That was baptism by fire. You’d think if I could make it there, I could make it anywhere, but this is way worse.”
Raphael frowned and shook his head. He picked up another book from the table and flipped through it while Saint silently listened. “OK, this book is about mind over matter, the body’s ability to heal itself, but it deals with spirituality, the way we use our prayers and will to make that happen. Listen to this right here. It says, ‘When a man or woman is determined to be well and in good health, despite what their diagnosis is, they will stop at nothing to fulfill that. The people blessed with the gifts from the Angels of Mercy and Death know that they will heal from many physical ailments. Their psychic ability for optimal health is strongest in their fingertips and heart. Exercise comes naturally to them, and they gravitate towards massaging and caressing other and placing their hearts in close proximity of the person of interest. In addition, these people are rarely sick, despite the minor allergy flare-up. Their allergies seem to be heightened due to oversensitivity of their nasal passages and their acute sense of taste and smell. These individuals often act as a nurse to others. It’s instinctual for them. When it comes to illness, the Angel of Death gift propels them to enter the fields of medicine and holistic healing. In some cases, they become evangelical preachers with the power to heal through their hands. Whatever the person with the dual Angel spirit enjoys can be used to help heal, educate, and assist others. These people always end up in fields in which they serve as advocates for a greater good, oftentimes putting their own selves in harm’s way to protect others. They’re able to see death through prophecy, and then take it away if given permission by God and their guardian angel.” Raphael slammed the book closed and rolled his eyes.
“Are you still in denial? Who was at my house actin’ like a general practitioner on call when my kids had the flu? You’re a sex doctor, not a physician. We told you to get out, that you’d get sick too – shit, we all were sick, but they had it the worst, and you insisted on comin’ in. The day after you left, we all felt much better. I never connected the two until now! All you did was talk to us, read the kids a story, and stay there a while,” Raphael said in amazement. “You couldn’t help yourself. It was like a compulsion. If someone you love is sick, you want to help them. Your hands can heal, Man. You’re walking after part of your spine was blown away! Do you know how uncommon that is? And yet here you are, less than three months after taking three slugs in the back, with only a damn cane and a tiny scar to show for it.” Saint immediately thought about how he flew to L.A. the moment he realized Xenia was sick. He couldn’t stop himself. He remembered second guessing himself, but was unable to control the urge to get to her as soon as possible.
“I can’t believe t
his shit,” Saint said as he closed his eyes and let his head fall back. He rubbed his face and sighed. “Why me? Why can’t I just focus on my work and live my life? I don’t want this! I just want a normal life, Man.”
“You better man-up and stop being a pussy!” Raphael ordered. “I’m tired of hearin’ you say that. This is a gift! This is your life. This is your career. Nothing has changed except you needin’ to accept who you are.”
“You don’t get it!” Saint shouted. “I don’t give a shit about being different – that within itself is old hat to me. I care about how it’ll affect the people around me, people I love. I’m used to being weird, but there comes a point where enough is enough!”
“OK, let’s look at this in a more positive way,” Raphael said. “You love to fuck!” Raphael laughed. “Now, you’ve somehow made that into a career in which you help thousands of people. Who else could’ve pulled something off like that? The only people I know who like to fuck and try to get paid for it are porn stars and prostitutes. You’re neither. Somehow, you made this into a legit career as a therapist and now speaker. And on top of that, you’re actually helping people find love. Your obsession with Black pussy has made you the Gandhi of interracial relationships!” Raphael laughed.
“Shhh!” someone said at a nearby table.
“My bad!” Raphael smiled and waved at the small, elderly woman who was white-knuckling a newspaper. Saint turned and looked at her and shook his head.
“She’ll be dead by the end of this month. She’s got heart disease,” Saint said with pity. “I can’t see your timeline though, Raphael. This shit’s so random. It won’t let me choose who to see for that. I hate this!”
Raphael opened the third book and thumbed through the table of contents. “Hey, Man, Google this right quick while I try to find somethin’.” Saint looked down at his computer and pulled his browser up.
“Psychic power and divinity,” Raphael said. Saint typed it in and watched as the search results unfolded.
“Now what?” Raphael scooted closer and looked over at Saint’s computer. Click on that one. Saint scanned the article and landed on a passage that almost made his heart stop. “It says people like me can show our spirits to other people. All we have to do is look into a mirror and concentrate, and we can make it go anywhere around the world.” Saint’s face became flushed.
“What’s wrong?” Raphael asked.
“I never told you this, but when I was sixteen, I had a terrifying incident. You kinda witnessed it. One night, I was lookin’ at myself in the mirror and was wishin’ I could be anywhere, but in the house with my father. We’d been arguin’, as usual. He’d grounded me, but I wanted to go to that party over in Yonkers. I was thinking hard about the party I was missin’. You were at the party. You went without me you son of a bitch,” Saint laughed.
“You were grounded, not me!” Raphael smiled. “Shit, wasn’t no use in both of us sufferin’,” he laughed. “I don’t even remember who threw that party.”
“I don’t either, but I remember wantin’ to go so badly because...”
“Trina McDaniel was going to be there!”
Saint laughed. “She had the prettiest smile. Her skin was so chocolately and smooth, and that hair, down to her ass. It was all hers. And that ass! Dayum! I was so obsessed with her,” Saint grinned, “for all the wrong reasons.”
“You and every other horny sixteen-year-old. You dodged a bullet though. She’s an old, used-up groupie now – got a couple kids from some B-List rappers and a cocaine habit out of this world.”
Saint shook his head. “The sex was whack, too. I never went back for seconds once I finally got it. Anyway, someone called my dad that night and said I was at the party. I wasn’t at that party, Man,” Saint said as he looked at Raphael.
“But we all saw you. I thought you’d snuck out, but you swore up and down you weren’t there. You vanished just as quickly as you showed up. I figured you popped in and left.”
“Apparently I did. I ended up getting grounded for another week. My father didn’t believe me,” Saint said angrily. “I had no idea I made myself manifest somewhere else. The bad part is, when I was looking in the mirror, I saw all these people behind me, but they weren’t really there. It was like other spirits floatin’ around. I didn’t know these people. It scared the shit outta me. It happened again, but not at my parents’ house. I was already moved out. When I do that, I don’t think my spirit can interact with others. It just observes.”
Raphael looked at Saint and nodded. “Yeah, that’s what I read online last night. Look, Man, this is who you are, this is what you have, and it’s not a disease. You aren’t hurtin’ anyone. I don’t know why you were chosen, but you were. I know your profession ties into all of this too. You spent most of your life running from this. You ran away to school, got real scientific, and didn’t want to hear anything about God, spirituality, psychics, any of that. But every time you speak to people, you move and motivate ’em. You have a gift and way with women. You have a spiritual gift, a healing gift, and a psychic gift. It’s a lot, no doubt. You’ve embraced it to some extent though. You wear crucifixes, Stars of David, Buddhist beads, and other symbols around your neck, symbolizing your hodgepodge of beliefs. Your tattoo is of an angel for God’s sake. You can’t run from God. You thought you were runnin’ away from Him, but you were really runnin’ to Him, lookin’ for answers out of the corner of your eye, without lookin’ at it head-on. Now’s the time. I always knew you were different. I always knew you were the best friend I ever had, and I knew we’d be friends forever. You’re normal. There’s just this gifted part of you that you have to understand and use when needed. People gravitate towards you. When your name is mentioned for these conferences, they sell out. Even guys who aren’t into interracial dating go out of curiosity. I don’t have to be there to know that. I’m with you enough to see what happens. You always draw a crowd. You’re like a magnet. Women love you, always have and always will. But for some reason, only one woman has totally made you lose your mind right before my eyes. You’re crazy about Xenia – I mean completely out of your mind, Man. That night you two got married, I saw how you were lookin’ at her, and it was like you were in some sort of trance. I was worried for you. No disrespect, but I’d never seen you so pussy-whipped in all my life. I was happy to stand there and be the witness and sign the certificate because I knew you were happy. You chased her like she was the only female on the planet, though. It was insane.”
“For me, she is,” Saint said. “There is no one else like her. We fit perfectly. After we made love that first time, it was like she was my missing puzzle piece. I felt so calm. I never had that much peace before. I’m a headache, and she’s Excedrin. She’s like a permanent doobie in my mouth,” Saint laughed.
“No, after you made love that first time, you looked like shredded cheese, and were happy about it,” Raphael joked. “Both of you are crazy, a match made in Heaven.” They both laughed. “That’s another reason why I knew I had to let my concerns go about you marryin’ her so fast. I knew deep down you must’ve understood somethin’ I didn’t. You’re the one that makes women that way about you, not the other way around. I know why now. She’s your soulmate, Man, just like you said.”
Saint continued to listen to Raphael and mulled the information over in his head. “Raphael, why are you so interested in this? I mean, I know you believe in God and go to church on occasion, but I’ve never heard you express any interests in the occult. What brought this on?”
“After you got shot, I saw you levitate again. I saw how miserable Xenia was, and how whenever she’d touch you, even though you were in a coma, your pulse would race on the heart monitor. The nurses kept tellin’ me it was a coincidence, but I knew it wasn’t. Whenever she kissed you, the monitors would go crazy and the nurses would rush in, but you’d still be in a coma. I knew that even though your body wasn’t actin’ right, your spirit was talkin’ to her. You got up off the bed lookin’ for her,
Man. You went up in the damn air the one time she left your side. Since we were kids, I’ve seen strange stuff – the rabbit, all of that. I’ve always been interested, but you never wanted to talk about it. Now’s the time though. Now is definitely the time. Welcome to the next chapter in your life,” Raphael said with a chuckle. “David Copperfield and Chris Angel ain’t got shit on you.”
* * *
“And I’m supposed to believe that?” Saint questioned as he moved his white cane with sterling silver embellishments around the police officer. “You mothafuckas haven’t done shit, and you won’t because you don’t give a fuck. This person tried to kill my wife. They pointed a gun right at her dome less than twenty feet away. I stepped in the way to shield her. I could’ve died, but no one seems to give a shit. We’ve turned over countless copies of threatening emails and tapes I’ve been sent. We even gave you a list of all the YouTube videos about me from people who claimed to want to hurt me, and you say you have no suspects. I bet if this was about some white women, you’d be all over it!”
