K'wan - Gutter

She was thinking nonsense. Even suggesting that Gutter was going off to some secret rendezvous as his uncle lay mortally wounded was selfish on her part. If she spent his time away conjuring scenarios she would surely drive herself crazy. What she needed to do was get herself on the road to go see about Satin.

Her soul was wounded in ways beyond what no woman should endure. To be sentenced to a lifetime of sorrow seemed a fate worse than death. Sharell wondered what Satin now saw in her mind’s eye. Was she aware? Or in some far-off place that existed only in her mind?

When she finally finished dressing and stepped outside her building, the sun blared mercilessly down on her. Throwing on her Chanel shades, she continued on to her car. Mohammad was at his usual post, sitting in his Maxima thumbing through one of the several newspapers that he devoured each morning. He was a youthful-looking man with copper skin and a beard that hung slightly longer than Gutter’s but was far more kept. He smiled politely at her then went back to reading.

Since the conflict, Gutter insisted that she be under constant guard. One of the homeys had occupied the job in the beginning, but that turned out to be a disaster. Mohammad was one of Anwar’s. He was always with her when Gutter wasn’t around and sometimes when he was. Other than the fact that he greeted her in the mornings, she never knew he was there. He didn’t talk to her and he never revealed his exact location. He only made direct contact with her when necessary. Mohammad was the equivalent of having your own personal ghost.

Sharell walked to her car, which was parked a few spaces up, and got behind the wheel. She checked herself over in the mirror and pulled into traffic. Mohammad followed shortly behind her.

SATIN SATat the foot of a waterfall, looking at her reflection on the surface of the water. Her hair hung down to her shoulders, but had begun to frizz from the light drizzle that was sprinkling her. Her face was as beautiful as it has always been. There were no dark circles around her eyes and her cheeks still held a youthful glow. Running her hand through the water, she waited as she always had.

A figure approached from the direction in which the sun was setting, she couldn’t see his face due to the glare, not that she needed to. She’d know him anywhere. He approached, with his hair neatly braided and his khakis heavily creased. His brown face smiled at her lovingly as he occupied the patch of grass next to her.

“Lou-Loc,” she whispered, to which he gave her his infamous smile. His face was still as smooth as it had been before the shooting.

“Hey, baby,” he said, his voice being little more than the hum of a mosquito’s wings, but she was able to hear him perfectly. His breath smelled of the sweetest flowers, with a hint of tilled earth. When she laid her hand against his cheek it felt warm, not the cold flesh of a dead man. Every rational part of Satin’s mind told her that he was dead and that the man sitting beside her couldn’t be her forever lover, but when she pressed her body against his it seemed very real.

“God, I miss you,” she sobbed.

“I miss you too, ma,” he replied. “More than you can imagine, Satin.” His form wavered then became solid again. “Satin, you gotta go back, ma.”

With tear-filled eyes she looked up at him. “I know, baby, but I can come back tomorrow, or the day after.”

He looked down at his All Stars before turning back to Satin. “No, baby, I mean you gotta wake up. This ain’t no life for you, and the more you come here the more of yourself you lose. I can’t let you end up like me.” He motioned toward his body, which was starting to take on the clarity of a bootleg movie.

“I won’t leave you, Lou-Loc.” She tried to grab hold of his Dickies shirt, but her fingers passed right through. “Why can’t I stay here with you?”

“Because you gotta water the seed, ma.” He tried to touch her stomach, but his body was rapidly losing substance.

“Water the seed, what are you talking about?” she asked his fading form.

“You can’t sleep anymore, Satin, sleep is for the dead. This place”-he motioned at the fading scenery around him-“it ain’t for you, baby. Life is for you.”

“Baby, a life without you ain’t a life,” she pleaded. “I wanna stay here with you, Lou-Loc. Just about everybody I ever loved is dead, ain’t nothing out there for me. I don’t wanna lose you too.”

“Baby, as long as you water the seed you can never lose me, don’t forget that,” he said before his form faded completely.

SATIN AWOKEwith a start. Her eyes darted around the room, searching for the mountains and the waterfall, but there were only the dull hospital walls, and the morning sun coming through the picture window. Lou-Loc’s words again rang through her mind and the meaning suddenly became clear. With a trembling hand Satin touched her stomach and felt the faintest hint of a flutter.

AS SOONas Sharell stepped off the elevator she heard the shouts and sounds of furniture being overturned. A burly orderly rushed past her so swiftly that he almost knocked her over. Down the hall she saw a small cluster of people gathered around Satin’s room. An orderly stepped inside, but immediately backpedaled out, followed by a lamp, which shattered against the hallway wall.

“What’s going on here?” Sharell asked as she approached the duty nurse. Her youthful face wore a worried expression.

“Step back please, miss, we’re dealing with a situation,” the nurse told her as she pulled a syringe from her pocket along with a small glass bottle. Her hands were shaking so bad that she almost dropped the bottle when she tried to slip the needle through the corked top.

“I’m Sharell Baker, and that’s my sister in there.” Sharell tried to step around the nurse so that she could see into the room, but one of the orderlies blocked her path. He was a thick-necked cat whose arm and neck were covered in tattoos.

“I can’t let you in there, ma’am,” he said in a bass voice. “It’s too dangerous. Ms. Angelino attacked one of my people a few minutes ago.” He motioned to the splatters of blood on the floor that she hadn’t noticed before.

“Attacked an orderly? The last time I was here she could barely feed herself, let alone be a danger to anyone.” Sharell looked from the orderly to the nurse for an explanation.

“Tell that to the young man who’s downstairs getting his hand examined.” The nurse folded her arms over her small breasts. “Ms. Angelino came out of her stupor some time this morning and when the orderly went in to administer her medication she attacked him with a pencil.”

“Jesus.” Sharell covered her mouth in shock.

“Ms. Baker, I’m just as shocked as you are, but it still doesn’t change the fact that she’s become a danger to herself and my staff. She has to be sedated.” She held up the syringe that was now filled with a greenish fluid.

“Wait, can I try and talk to her first?” Sharell asked.

“Can’t do it, Ms.,” the tattooed orderly spoke up. “If you were to go in there and something happened we’d be held responsible, and I ain’t trying to lose my job.” He folded his arms, letting her know that it was nonnegotiable. It was just then that she spotted the six-pointed star tattooed on his elbow, with two numbers crowning it.

“Can I speak with you for a minute… in private?” Sharell asked politely. The orderly gave her a distrustful look, but agreed to hear her out.

“Make it quick lady,” he said, leading her off to the side. The nurse gave him a look, but he motioned that he had it under control. “What’s up?” he asked when they were out of earshot.