K'wan - Gutter

More silence.

“Okay,” Sharell said, pulling a small Bible from her purse, “you don’t have to talk, just listen.” Sharell proceeded to read a passage from the Bible.

DANNY PULLEDthe truck up in front of the bodega and killed the engine. He wanted to accompany the O.G. inside, but Gutter instructed him to wait. He never brought people into the stronghold of his partner. After retrieving the duffel bag containing one of the German machine guns, Gutter walked into the store.

Inside, the store was buzzing with activity. People were browsing through the aisles, while others were paying for their purchases. As usual, Roc was at his post behind the counter. Noticing Gutter, he motioned for Hassan to relieve him. The skinny boy still looked the same as he did during their first meeting.

“Al-salaam alaykum,” Roc greeted Gutter, coming from behind the counter.

“ Alaykum salaam, ” Gutter replied.

“Anwar awaits you in the war room. I trust you remember the way?”

“All day, cuz,” Gutter said, cutting through the aisle. He pushed open the door to the storeroom and proceeded to the freezer. Stepping inside the freezer, Gutter punched the numeric code into the keyboard. It took Anwar awhile before he trusted him enough to reveal the combination. The Al Mukalla valued their privacy, which is why Gutter never brought anyone within their hall with him.

The elevator went dark, but the metal detectors didn’t sweep him this time. He had given Roc prior notice of the parcel he was carrying. He stepped off on the ground floor and made his way down the infamous hall of eyes. The hidden cameras observed his approach, but he didn’t spare them a second look. Approaching the door to the war room Gutter looked at the Arabic writing and chuckled. “Freedom for the sons and daughters of Allah,” he read it out loud. Bush had yet to withdraw the troops so it looked like the freedom wouldn’t be coming anytime soon. Gutter removed his shoes and knocked on the iron door.

After a brief wait, the door clicked partially open. Gutter pushed it the rest of the way and stepped inside. As usual the room was dimly lit. The conference table and sofa were gone, but the desk and vast wall of monitors remained. Sitting cross-legged on a prayer rug was Anwar.

The leader of the Al Mukalla swept his long hair from his face and looked up at his visitor. “Enter and be welcomed, child of the Soladine family,” Anwar said, in a formal tone.

“Greetings, young prince, I come to you in friendship and thank you for your hospitality.” Gutter matched his tone.

“Please, come and be seated,” Anwar said, motioning to an empty space on the rug.

Gutter adjusted the duffel bag and took a seat on the rug with Anwar. “A gift for the birthday boy.” Gutter smiled, handing him the bag.

Anwar smiled and accepted the gift. He examined the machine gun and nodded in approval. “Very nice.”

“I thought you might like it.”

“Indeed,” Anwar said, setting the weapon off to the side. “How goes things?”

“Another day, another hustle.” Gutter sighed. “Things are still a little crazy, but it’s coming together.”

“Glad to hear it.” Anwar nodded. “For a time, we were concerned about the state of our agreement. No disrespect to your comrade Pop Top, but I did not relish the idea of having to do business with him.”

“Top means well, but not everyone is skilled at diplomacy. He’s served his purpose, but I’m back running the show now. I’m gonna do what I gotta to make sure the set flourishes.”

“Indeed,” Anwar agreed. “How’s Sharell?”

“She’s good. She still hasn’t gotten used to the idea of living in Brooklyn, but it’s for the best. I love that girl with everything that I am, so I need to keep her out of harm’s way.”

“As you should. Tell me this though, when are you going to make it official?”

“Come on with that.” Gutter waved him off.

“I’m serious. Even if she wasn’t carrying your child, I think she has more than proven her loyalty and love for you.”

“I plan to marry her one day; it’s just that the time isn’t right yet.”

“Kenyatta, that’s a weak excuse and you know it. Though you lost your way for a time, you are still one of Allah’s children. Living with a woman and giving her a child outside of marriage is an American custom. Being as we are, a wife completes the foundation of life. She is the earth which you have planted your seed in and should be cherished as such.”

“I know, but there’s just so much going on with me right now,” Gutter explained.

“Speaking of which, how are you?” Anwar questioned.

“I’m fine,” Gutter shrugged. “Still got a few aches, but I’ll be okay.”

“Not your physical, my brother, your soul. I see much unrest in your eyes. The devil tries to worm its way into your spirit and you welcome him with open arms.”

“It ain’t like that, Anwar. It’s just that a lot of shit has to be made right before I can move on.”

“And what constitutes making it right? Since you’ve come back on the scene, much blood has been spilled in the streets. The murderers of your brother are dead and gone, yet you carry on the siege. Will it take your own death to end it?”

“If need be,” Gutter said very seriously. “Lou-Loc was the only friend I ever had. They cut him down like a dog in the streets. I can’t let that shit ride. They gotta pay!”

“Kenyatta”-Anwar placed his hand on Gutter’s forearm-“I understand your need for vengeance, but what about your need for peace? How can one pay a debt that has no denomination? You have swimmed through rivers of blood to reach this point. You have money and an army behind you. I implore you to abandon this quest before it consumes you.”

“I wish I could,” Gutter said, trying not to get choked up, “but I can’t. These busters gotta feel what I feel. I wanna hurt them, Anwar.”

“Gutter,” Anwar said, using his street name. “Your father and his father before him were both very wise men, but I fear the trait wasn’t passed along to you. Only a fool has everything, but still feels it isn’t enough. You must ask yourself, are you killing for vengeance or is it something deeper than that?”

Gutter felt his anger clawing its way to the top. He was sure Anwar saw the rage flickering in his eyes, but he still sat motionless, staring at the ganglord. Had this been anyone else, Gutter would’ve pummeled him for speaking so freely. But the man sitting before him wasn’t anyone else. He was the prince of a city within a city. More important, he was right. The killing would have to end at some point, but it wouldn’t be today.

“I gotta go,” Gutter said, rising to his feet. He made for the door, while Anwar remained seated.

“I’m sorry, Kenyatta,” Anwar called behind him. “Not sorry for expressing myself, but for the conflict that continues to poison your soul. May Allah walk with you on whatever road you choose.”

GUTTER WAStight when he left the bodega. Leave it to Anwar’s little philosophical ass to rain on a nigga’s day, Gutter thought to himself. He understood what Anwar was saying about losing focus, but why didn’t Anwar understand what he was saying? Anwar was beginning to sound like Sharell.

Just thinking of his boo drained some of the anger from his face. If nobody was in his corner, she was, even when he was on his bullshit, which was most of the time lately. Still, she rode with him and had been just as solid as when he’d met her.

He and Lou-Loc had only been in New York for a few months and still trying to get the lay of the land. It didn’t take them long to open up shop and get a short crack flow popping out of this base head’s house on Lexington. It was the first of the month and they had sold out of product just after sundown. Being that they wouldn’t be able to re-up until the next day they decided to hit the party scene and blow some of their newfound wealth.