The Naughty Sins Of A Saint (7 page)

Xenia
quickly pulled on her headphones. “We’re back on the air with our very special guest, Dr. Saint Aknaten!” She forced a cheery tone, in typical journalistic fashion. “OK, Dr. Aknaten, now that you’ve rattled off my bio, let’s get to the crux of why you’re here today. Let’s take some callers. All the lines are busy. Let’s take this one. Houston, Texas, you’re on air with our special guest, Dr. Aknaten. Please give us your question.”

“Yeah, this is Henry. I want to know why this punk-ass is trying to destroy the Black family. Doesn’t he have his own women to date? I’m sure plenty of Asian women would love to be wit’ him, so he needs to leave our women alone. The Black family is important, and people like him keep trying to tear it apart. His name is ‘Saint,’ but it should be ‘Demon.’ The Black woman belongs with the Black man!”

“OK, Henry, let’s let Dr. Aknaten respond,” Xenia said with a smirk.

“Henry, I understand your frustration and concern,” Saint began, “however, my message isn’t for you. This isn’t about how the Black man feels. That’s one of the problems I keep running into with African-American men. You believe that if you don’t like something, then everything should change. What about the Black woman’s happiness? Also, I can’t destroy the Black family. I don’t have that kind of power, but Henry, you do, and other men like you. The Black family is being destroyed because of incarceration of Black men and by the Black man abandoning his family and by a lack of accountability and shift of blame. Without a strong father figure, a woman can’t teach a boy how to be a man, so the cycle continues of Black male adults who expect women to take care of them. There are enough Black women for all of us, and you, quite simply, can’t meet all of their needs. There aren’t enough of you available for a number of reasons. The Black woman shouldn’t have to be alone just to make you feel better. With all due respect, to hell with your opinion, Henry, because it’s selfish. This isn’t about you for once. If you love the Black woman so much, you should want her to be happy, married if she so chooses, and well taken care of. It’s selfish to expect her to sit around and wait for the Black knight who’ll never arrive.”

“Those are some pretty strong words, Dr. Aknaten. I wonder what you classify as loving the Black woman and taking care of her.” Before Saint could respond, Xenia stated, “Let’s take another call. This is the Xenia Donnellson show. Juniper out of Los Angeles, you’re on the air.”

“Dr. Saint Aknaten, it’s so great to talk to you,” said the bubbly female on the line.

“Thank you, Juniper,” said Saint. Xenia rolled her eyes, put her finger in her mouth, pretending to gag.

Saint looked at her and mouthed, “Little – childish – immature.” Xenia laughed and put up her middle finger.

“I just want to say that I agree with you one hundred percent! I’m a Black female and I think we as Black women need to expand our dating options. Black men have been dating white women forever, but then as soon as we do it, we’re destroying the Black family! Yeah right! My boyfriend is white, and he’s treated me better than any of the Black dudes I dated. We really need to wake up! My boyfriend has read all of your books by the way. Keep doing what you’re doing!”

“Thank you, Juniper, and congratulations on your new relationship. I hope it stays positive and that it’s continuously successful.”

“One more call before the break,” Xenia jumped in to say. “You’re on the air, Peter Paul from Brooklyn, New York.”

“Dr. Aknaten, you need to get your wig split. I’m ashamed to say that we grew up in the same hood. Most of us are sick and tired of listenin’ to this disgusting crossbreed, this mutt, this half-Asian, half-washed-out white terrorist, Iranian, Egyptian, whatever the hell he is, goin’ around the country encouragin’ the destruction of our race. Have you seen this man speak? It’s unbelievable. He has the nerve to go all over the country talkin’ that shit, and our tax dollars are shelled out for him to have police protection while he goes around puttin’ down Black men and tryin’ to get in Black women’s panties. Game recognize game! This mofo is the biggest pimp I’ve ever seen. I give him props for how smooth he works under the radar. He’s been pimpin’ since he first opened his mouth. He’s fuckin’ a bunch of Black bitches every night and then wants to talk about respectin’ the Black ‘queen.’ Fuck you, man. Xenia, I can’t believe you even have this fool on the radio. He’s a traitor and enemy. He actually teaches white men how to fuck our women. Can you believe that shit? It ain’t bad enough that he tells Black women to date these cracka mothafuckas, he then needs to turn around and give the actual steps on how to dick a bitch down so that she’ll never want to leave. He got mass sex videos on this shit, and bitches are gettin’ dick-whipped from these pale-ass, wet-dog-smellin’, funky, stringy-haired, thin-lipped, no-ass-havin’ mothafuckas. They gotta do that, or they know the desperate Black women they pull will leave. You gotta pay a Black bitch and fuck her all night just to get her to want your half-breed ass!”

“Mr. Paul, I’m going to have to ask you to watch your language so we don’t have to keep bleeping you,” Xenia said. “Some cursing is OK, but you’re going too far.” She kept her hand on the trigger but beamed with happiness at the nasty tongue lashing Saint had just received. “Dr. Aknaten, is there anything you’d like to say to Mr. Paul?”

“Mr. Paul isn’t worth responding to really, but I’ll humor you. Peter, I think you’re just jealous because I get more pussy than you. I think you’re talking loud but ain’t sayin’ nothin’. Stop worrying about who my dick is in and worry about your own…peter.” Saint smiled. Xenia shook her head and grimaced.

 “Shut the fuck up, man! Like I was sayin’, he gives a step-by-step guide on how to make the Black woman crave white dick. This mothafucka has women standin’ around like tramps, waitin’ for him from city to city, some of our finest sistas I might add, too. Ain’t that some shit? Dr. Saint Aknaten, listen to me and listen well. If you don’t stop what you’re doing, we’ll kill yo’ mutt-dog, pretty-boy, Baghdad-lookin’ pimpin’ ass. We’ll come and…”

“OK, I had to disconnect that call. Good Lord, the crazies are out today!” Xenia teased. “Let’s go to a commercial break and be right back with our wonderful guest, Dr. Saint Aknaten, here on the Xenia Donnellson show!” Xenia took her headset off again and looked across the table at Saint. She searched for a reaction from him. Instead she was met with a stoic, placid facial expression as Saint rested his hands on his knees. She nodded at him and smiled. She was impressed.

“OK, back to business, Dr. Aknaten. Argument over. Let’s try to keep this lightweight from this point on. You were pretty composed just now. I give you some credit for that. You were so animated in the conference clip. You really do put on a show. You handle our irate callers well.”

“This is the real me,” Saint explained. “I’m used to hearing people like that. It doesn’t faze me. Instead, it encourages me to keep doing what I’m doing. People pay good money to come and see me or buy my videos and books, so everything I tell them is true. But you have to be able to energize the crowd. You know that. You’re in this business. Right now I’m just having a conversation. When I’m speaking to a large crowd of people, they need to be motivated. They need a pep talk so they can feel like they can really accomplish what I’m suggesting. I see there are still a lot of calls in queue. I can stay longer if you need.”

“Thank you. That’s generous of you,” Xenia smiled. “You’re a very strange man,” Xenia said, as she turned away. She shook her head of soft, brown, crinkly curls. She flipped through some papers and added, “You’re very attractive. I can see why women go crazy over you. I’ll admit that, and you’re obviously above-average intelligence but cuckoo as a cuckoo bird. There’s just something about you that gives me the creeps, and truthfully, I can’t wait until you’re out of my damn studio.” She turned back around and pushed the “On-Air” button.

“OK, we’re back. I’m Xenia Donnellson, and this is the Xenia Donnellson show with our fantastic guest, Dr. Saint Aknaten! He’s agreed to stay a little longer to answer some more of our calls.”

After thirty more minutes of callers, the show was over. Saint stood up and detached his microphone. Xenia looked at him briefly, then looked away as she gathered paperwork for her next guest. She didn’t say goodbye or acknowledge his preparing to leave. He moved to the studio exit, escorted by T-Rex.

“Bye, Xenia,” Saint said as he walked out. “I’ll see you again.”

Xenia
kept her heard down as she returned, “I highly doubt it,” then continued sorting through her papers. T-Rex was a 6’5” Somali with long, dark hair. He led Saint through the building to the awaiting black Rolls-Royce that would drive Saint to the airport.

“Hey, Saint,” said T-Rex as the limo pulled out.

“Yeah,” Saint said, exhausted. He slid on his sunglasses and took out a magazine from his briefcase. The feature story was about him.

“That was one hell of an interview. Xenia seemed pretty cool until you two started going at each other. I know the folks listening didn’t hear what went down, but I did. That was vicious. You two were fighting like cats and dogs. Why do you think she gave you such a hard time today?”

“Because she’s my future wife, and somewhere deep down I believe she knows it, and she’s scared. I found my goddess.” Saint opened the magazine and began to read.

* * *

“No, that’s not what you want,” Saint said as he removed his coat.

“Man, it is what I want!” His best friend, Raphael, said as he moved in front of him with his 5’11” dark-brown body striding down Saint’s penthouse hallway. “You can go ahead and say it. It makes no difference to me. I know when you’re holding back. I’ve known you since we were five years old, living in the Bronx. How can you not include me?” Raphael added as he took his shoes off, per Saint’s request, and walked across Saint’s glossy cherry wood floor into the open living area. Built-in bookshelves rose upward toward the cathedral ceilings, a rolling ladder conveniently attached to them. A narrow bookshelf in the corner was full of pornography, neatly categorized and in alphabetical order.

Saint sighed. “To me, it’s not even relevant.” He lit a stick of Egyptian musk incense and poured himself a glass of water, adding two cubes of ice with kiwi frozen inside them. “Do you want some of this?” he asked.

“Nah, I’m good.” Raphael slumped down on the Victorian style white and gold couch. “So, if they know your best friend is Black, what’s the worst that could happen?”

“That’s not the point. I’m trying to protect you. I already told you that things would change unfavorably for you.” Saint untied his khaki pants and slumped down next to Raphael.

“You think people would call me a ‘sellout’ for being cool wit’ you?” Raphael asked.

“Think? I know they would. You’d be the ‘Uncle Tom’ of the twenty-first century. You’d be accused affiliating with the enemy. Your life would turn into a living hell.”

“One thing’s for sure, Saint – you need to get some pussy because I’m really tired of you sitting around looking all depressed when you get back in town. Pussy is like your weed. It mellows you out. You’re all wound up.”

Saint laughed. “I wish I could, but it just makes matters worse in the long run. Anyway, how’s the jewelry business? Sold any huge Rolexes lately?”

“Man, my sales people suck. Everything is OK, though. We’re doing better than many. Let me know if you need anything. You know I’ll give you a discount. Back to the sex thing, though,” Raphael smiled mischievously, “I thought you were a self-professed sex-aholic? How are you surviving this long?”

“Day by day. It’s awful. When your job is to talk about relationships and sex all day, trying to stay away from it is nearly impossible. I knew it was standing in the way of finding my ‘queen,’ and I felt too much like a hypocrite. My energy needed to be pure. I had to cleanse physically and spiritually or I wouldn’t be able to draw her to me. She can’t accept me like that.” Saint sucked noisily on a piece of ice, rolling it in his mouth until he was left with only the sliver of kiwi on his tongue. He slid the fruit back and forth playfully, blowing out air. His eyes grew wide as smoke left his mouth in perfectly formed ringlets, followed by a small flame that burst forth like a miniature blowtorch.

 “What the fuck?” he thought, as he watched the smoke rise to the ceiling and disappear. “That’s the third time it’s happened this week.” He looked at Raphael who was watching the television and missed the pyrotechnic display.

“How’d your interview go with Xenia Donnellson? I didn’t get to listen this time. Sorry, Man. Had mass shit to do.” Raphael looked over at Saint. He noted his friend’s immediate scowl when he said her name.

“No problem. You didn’t miss much – just her trying to cut my balls off on national syndicated radio. Then she allowed at least ten callers who were out of their damn minds to attack me before for she finally intervened. She’s a real peach,” Saint laughed.

“Wow!” Raphael laughed. “What does she look like? Does she have a face fit only for radio? That voice of hers is sexy as hell, though.”

“Believe it or not, she’s gorgeous, Man. She looks as good as she sounds. She’s perfect actually. She has this kind of eccentric vibe, but it’s fresh, it’s cutting age and fashionable. She’s about 5’5”, maybe 5’6”, about a 36DD. Her breasts are definitely suckable. She has a small waist, nice, thick, shapely legs. I couldn’t see her ass, but from the shape of her hips, I bet it’s pretty nice. She’s got a slight pooch – nothing major, though. Nothing some riding couldn’t fix.”