K'wan - Gutter

“Come on, cuz. I ain’t no babysitter, I’m a field general, I belong in the trenches, you know that,” Pop Top protested.

“Top, right now what’s going on in the trenches ain’t important. I’ll see to that when I get back. I need you to tell the homeys to fall back until I get there. Major Blood don’t play like everybody else, and I don’t wanna lose no more soldiers, Top.”

“This is some bullshit, man. In one breath you tell me to keep up the war effort and in the next you tell me to run from Major Blood like I’m some fucking pussy? I ain’t wit this shit, cuz.”

“Loc, fuck what you wit!” Gutter shouted. “I’m asking you to do me this solid, and you’re giving me grief? Check this shit, Top, you’re leading the set in name only. I’m the iron fist behind Harlem Crip. Now, if you can’t do me this solid, cool, I’ll get somebody else. But make no mistake, my nigga, I won’t have you questioning my actions. Dig me?”

“Whatever, man. I got you,” Pop Top said, and hung up the phone.

“Silly muthafucka,” Gutter spat, slipping his phone back into his pocket.

“You a’ight, G?” Snake Eyes asked, climbing out of his car. Gutter had been so lost in thought that he hadn’t even noticed him pull up.

“Yeah, I’m straight.” Gutter pounded his fist. “Just tripping off this nigga Pop Top. That muthafucka act like he run Harlem, homey.”

“Well, for a good while he did. You know what they say about when a dog tastes blood, cuz. You might wanna keep your eye on that dude.”

“Man, Top crazy as hell, but he ain’t stupid.” Gutter waved him off. “You send that bread off for me, my nigga?”

“Yeah, man.” Snake Eyes handed him a Western Union receipt.

“Rob’s sister is handling all the arrangements. She say that Ms. Lucy too broke up to do much other than cry, so she on it. I think they’re gonna have the services tomorrow.”

“Damn, that was quick.”

“I know, but they wanna get it out of the way, homey. I can only imagine what those women must be going through,” Snake Eyes said sadly.

“Muthafucking Major Blood,” Gutter spat. “It wasn’t enough that that crazy bitch Ruby took my lil homey off the set, but then this nigga Major Blood had the nerve to go at my bitch? Man, that’s gonna be the first nigga I see when I get back to the Coast.”

“Yeah, ya boy’s been getting his murder on, but he ain’t try to kill Sharell, this nigga did.” Snake Eyes handed him a folder he had been holding. “You might recognize the little bastard in the picture as B-High, who used to kick it back in the days.” Snake Eyes narrated while Gutter scanned the folder’s contents.

“Didn’t they cross that nigga out for hitting two of his own?” Gutter asked, glaring at the picture.

“They tried, but he vanished.” Snake Eyes pulled a small legal pad from his pocket and began flipping the pages. “Spent some time in Miami and at some point slipped into New York. With his track record I’m surprised you haven’t had any trouble out of him before this. Between him, Reckless, and Major Blood, they kept some shit jumping in Compton.”

“Yeah, we gonna see how much Reckless got jumping after a real muthafucking gangsta touch the turf. After I lay this bitch nigga, I’m gonna grease his faggot-ass cousin, Major.” Gutter tossed the file back to Snake Eyes. “He might not have tried Sharell his self, but that don’t change the fact that he put somebody on the case. That’s my word if them niggaz touch my wife…”

“Easy, homey.” Snake Eyes placed a reassuring hand on Gutter’s shoulder. “You and I both know that she’s good where she’s at. Nobody but us and Anwar knows where she’s tucked.”

“Nobody but us and Anwar knew where she was tucked before,” Gutter reminded him. “Cuz, I’ll just feel better when this nigga is outta my city, real talk.”

“Soon enough, cousin. I’ve made arrangements for the funeral and wake for Big Gunn to go down tomorrow, all in one shot. The family understands about you having to bail early because of the emergency in New York. Speaking of cutting out, what you think about taking Tariq with you?”

“Who, Lil Gunn? Man, fuck am I gonna do, give him package and teach him to blast muthafuckas? Nah, I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Gutter laughed it off.

“Well, I do. Come on, G, look what that nigga is dealing with out here. His mama’s a winehead and his daddy ain’t here no more. Who’s gonna raise him, the fucking streets? You see what happened to us.”

“Snake, your ass is a lawyer, fuck is you talking about?” Gutter asked him.

“Yeah, but you went on to become a gang banger, and so did Poppa, Ray, Baby Crunk, and Lou-Loc. Now three of the people on that list I just ran down to you are dead, one is in jail, and the other one is trying to get himself killed. So what’s that telling you, that one out of every six of us will make a little something of their life?”

“Yo, dawg-”

“Nah, hear me out for a minute, Gutter. That boy is without a doubt his father’s child; if you leave him here it’s only a matter of time before he falls into the bullshit. I mean, it ain’t like he’s gonna have a whole lot of choices if he stays, G.”

“Man, we banging in New York too!” Gutter pointed out.

“Yeah, but not like these niggaz.” Snake Eyes motioned toward the garage, where most of the crew was assembled inside. “Besides, you know when Sharell drops her load this shit is gonna have to slow up anyhow. Get the little nigga outta here before the police or the meat wagon does.”

Gutter measured his words, wondering if his friend’s suggestion would make things worse or better. He was right when he said that things would change when Sharell gave birth. She had already started tightening the reins, and they’d get even tighter with a new baby. It wasn’t such a bad thing though because Gutter needed to slow down. Maybe bringing Lil Gunn to the East Coast would help him do that. He knew how easy it was to be fourteen on the set, with nobody but the hood to guide you.

“You might have a point, Snake, but who’s to say that Gunn even wants to go?” Gutter asked.

“He says,” Snake Eyes informed him. “You know me and Lil Gunn are way cool because just about once a month I gotta fly up to get him outta some shit, so he talks to me. His mama ain’t doing nothing but pushing him from the nest and into harm’s way, but you know Stacia ain’t trying to hear she has flaws. I asked the little nigga if he could move, would he? And he say in a heartbeat.”

Gutter shook his head at his old friend’s cunning. “A’ight, loc. Let me holla at Sharell about it and we’ll see what pops. Right now, I gotta go holla at these niggaz, before Rahkim gets them all hyped up.” Gutter headed for the garage.

WHEN HAWKwas finally allowed to leave the precinct he was less than a happy camper. They had picked him up the previous night and brought him in for questioning on the recent rash of murders. Hawk had been on the police radar as a known gang affiliate and general piece of shit, but until then they’d never been able to come up with a solid reason to pick him up. Apparently they thought that he would be able to shed some light on the rash of gang-related shootings that had taken place over the last few days. Of course, Hawk refused to talk until his lawyer arrived.

The cops were so pissed that they took him from the precinct and drove around Harlem for hours to make it harder for the lawyer to locate him. The bullshit part of the whole thing was the fact that they had picked up several of the Crip leaders also, and thought it would be funny to release everybody at the same time. There was almost a full-scale riot between the two factions right in front of the precinct. Hawk was lucky to slide out before anything serious jumped off, but it still didn’t change the fact that Major Blood’s cowboy-ass antics had brought unnecessary heat down on him.