K'wan - Gutter

“Kenyatta, don’t play me, all right?” she warned him. “I know y’all ain’t fixing to go in them streets and act crazy?” When nobody responded her suspicions were confirmed. “When are y’all gonna ever learn?”

“Rah, you tripping-” Rahkim began.

“I’m not tripping, Rahkim, you’re the one that’s tripping. As old as you are and as much as you’ve been through I’d think you’d be trying to defuse these kinds of situations instead of agitating them. Rahkim, that is not what Islam teaches,” she tried to reason with him.

“Man, fuck that. A nigga blasted on my brother and I ain’t supposed to do nothing? We can all be devout Muslims at Gunn’s ceremony tomorrow morning, but tonight I’m a muthafucking gangster.” Rahkim stormed past his twin.

Rahshida let out a deep sigh. “Hasn’t there been enough death already?” She was looking at the men assembled. “Criminal, wasn’t it your brother who got shot last month at the bus stop? Tears, how did you feel when those boys from Six Duce almost blew your face off in front of your son?” No one responded. “Don’t you see it? Us killing them and them killing us is getting us nowhere. The only people that thinking is beneficial to is white folks who don’t want you to rise above this foolishness. When it is gonna end?”

“When there’s only one side left,” Gunn called from the flowerpot he’d been sitting on. Rahshida hadn’t even noticed him until he spoke. There was a coldness to his eyes that she had seen in her little brother’s eyes just before someone died.

“And you, Tariq. What are you doing? It’s bad enough that I had to lose my brother to this madness. Will I lose you too?” Her voice was heavy with emotion.

“Nah, you ain’t gotta worry about Tariq, Auntie.” Gutter put an arm around her. “Tariq is coming back to the Coast with me, I’m gonna make sure he’s good.”

A glimmer of hope shone in Rahshida’s eyes. “Kenyatta, please don’t let him get turned out to this craziness. Teach him a better way.”

“I’ll do my best, Auntie,” he said, looking over at Gunn whose eyes were cold and focused. “I’ll do my best.”

IT TOOKnearly a half hour, but the young men finally went on their way. Snake Eyes was gone again, this time tracking down a current address for Major Blood. He’d heard through the grapevine that he’d purchased a property on the east side of Compton. Rahshida had taken Lil Gunn inside the house to have a heart-to-heart talk. He’d been elated when Gutter made the announcement that he’d be moving east with him. Gunn saw it as an opportunity to learn the art of gang-banging from a true street legend so naturally he was all for it. What he didn’t know was that his cousin had a whole different plan in mind.

Gutter had thought of himself as untouchable, especially after his resurrection, but the man formerly known as B-High had shown him different. The first thing Gutter intended to do when he got back to New York was move everyone out. He had recently closed on the house in Long Island and wanted it to be a surprise for Sharell, but the botched hit sped things up. Now her dream house was a safe house. He realized that he needed to do a better job at keeping his family and his hood separate and Brooklyn just wasn’t far enough.

“Can I holla at you for a minute?” Monifa walked up on him.

“Sup, ma?” he asked a little dryly. From the look in her eyes he could tell she had something heavy on her mind and he really wasn’t for it at that moment.

“Y’all really riding tonight?”

He looked at her as if it were a stupid question. “Come on, Mo, you know the answer to that.”

“Kenyatta, I understand you’re hurting over Gunn, as we all are, but ain’t much can be done about it right off. You said it yourself that he ain’t even in California so what good will it do for you to roll tonight?” The shameful look Gutter gave her put a nasty thought in her mind. “Gutter, you can’t. They’re civilians!”

“So was Gunn, he was inactive.”

Monifa gave him a disbelieving look. “Homey, the last time I checked you couldn’t retire from this life like a nine-to-five. I’m not saying it was right for Gunn to die, but he knew the risks. If you wanna ride on Major Blood, I feel you… but leave everybody else out of it.”

For a minute Gutter’s face softened, but when he saw Criminal standing off to the side waiting to see him his war face came back. “Mo, I hear what you talking, but I ain’t got no understanding of that shit right now. They done took the two people closest to me in under a year and if I don’t put my murder game down now, these niggaz ain’t never gonna learn.”

“Gutter”-she moved closer and spoke in a hushed tone-“you don’t have to do it like this. Revenge is one thing, but this… Kenyatta, I can remember a time where there were lines that even you wouldn’t cross.”

Gutter took a step back and stared at her. “This is a whole new day, baby, and I’m a whole new man, smell me? It’s kill or be killed, ma, ain’t no more passes.”

Monifa searched his eyes for some semblance of the youth or innocence that they once held, but all she saw were two pale green pools. No life, no warmth, only color. “You are truly lost, aren’t you?”

“Nah, I ain’t lost, baby.” He kissed her on the forehead. “I’m just really finding myself.” He stepped around Monifa and went to join Criminal.

Monifa watched him leave and wondered who the man was that she’d just spoken to. Gutter had always been a killer, or at least that’s what she’d heard, but even he was within reason. She didn’t know the man standing not ten feet away from her and she didn’t know the man that she’d given her body to. If Kenyatta Soladine still lurked anywhere inside that shell, he was buried too deep for her to discover. There was a time when she was the most important thing in Kenyatta’s life, but to Gutter she would always come second to the set.

“YOU GOTthat done already?” Gutter asked in surprise.

“Shit, you should’ve known that wouldn’t take long. The biggest problem was having too many volunteers. The hood loved yo uncle, cuz,” Criminal said.

“Yeah, that’s all well and good, but I don’t need no bunch of ragtag niggaz at my back when I bust this move, C.”

“Kick back, cuz, you know I wouldn’t even do you like that. These niggaz is handpicked by me, cuz. Niggaz I ride wit on the regular, I know what they made of,” he assured Gutter.

“That’s why I fuck wit you, cuz, you always been a straight rider.” Gutter draped his arm around Criminal lovingly. “Man, you ready to put in some real work?”

“Cuz, you know I stay down for that one-eight.” He flashed the butt of the gun jammed down the front of his oversized jeans. “I been waiting for a reason to trip on a nigga anyway, but them touching Gunn means it’s no-holds-barred. Man, I’m gonna smoke any muthafucka out there, that’s on the turf!”

Gutter smiled at Criminal. Of all the young homeys, he really dug Criminal. He was a loyal soldier and spent more time listening than he did talking. Not only was he about his business, but he loved the set more than anything. He showed the same kind of vigor about gang-banging as Lou-Loc and Gutter had. If he survived the night he was surely going to become a big man in the hood, Gutter would see to that.

“Sup, locs?” Lil Gunn addressed the two men.

“What it is, lil nigga.” Criminal pounded his fist. “How you holding up?”

Lil Gunn shrugged. “I’ll be a’ight, man. Niggaz die every day.”

Gutter placed a hand on Lil Gunn’s shoulder. “Cuz, you daddy wasn’t just no nigga, he was a legend. You might not have been as tight with him as you should’ve, but don’t never doubt that your father was a great man. Outside of this banging shit, Gunn was a good nigga and did a lot of good for the neighborhood.”