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 WAS tight when he left the bodega.
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.
They tried to hit up some popular spots in Midtown, but because they were dressed in boots and jeans instead of button-ups and loafers it didn’t go too well. They ended up rolling through this spot on Eighth called the Sugar Shack. It was a small spot, but the atmosphere was mellow. There were some birds in the joint, but for the most part it was a light crowd. Gutter was about to suggest that they bail when the night suddenly started looking up.
Lou-Loc was leaning against the bar, jabbing with a thick Spanish chick while Gutter played the cut, brooding over his Heineken when Sharell walked in with two of her peoples. Gutter could tell they were squares by their conservative dress, when most of the other chicks were in man-catching gear. Still, all three chicks were fine and Gutter was lonely. As they passed he tried to capture them with his alluring green eyes, but the first two passed without giving him so much as a glance. It was the last one who looked over at him. The look couldn’t have been for more than a heartbeat, but in that heartbeat something passed between them.
“Say, cuz.” Gutter tapped his partner. “Check them joints right there.” He nodded toward the trio that had taken one of the tables in the back.
Lou-Loc kept his hand on the girl’s thigh and leaned over to his friend. “Who, them square bitches?”
“Yeah, man. Yo, I think I’m about to move on baby girl in the green sweater.” He rubbed his perspiring hands against his jeans.
“Man, that broad ain’t fucking wit yo old thug-ass. Kick back, cuz, I’m ’bout to see if baby here got a friend.” He jerked his head toward the girl he was talking to.
“Man, fuck that bitch; I need you to help me break the ice with baby girl,” Gutter said, not really caring if the current object of Lou-Loc’s affection heard him.
“Man, you tripping. I ain’t ’bout to go over there looking in no projects when I got prime real estate right here.” He traced his finger down the girl’s arm, causing her to giggle. Lou-Loc was about to lean over and whisper something in her ear when Gutter grabbed him roughly by the arm. He was surprised to see the seriousness in Gutter’s eyes.
“Cuz, you know I wouldn’t even put you out there unless it was serious,” Gutter told him.
“Damn, you really snagged, huh?” Lou-Loc shook his head.
“Nigga, I ain’t asking for your firstborn kid or no shit like that. All I want you to do is go over there and ask honey if I can speak to her for a minute.”
Lou-Loc twisted his lips. “Dawg, not only do you want me to smile and nod for these lame hoes, but you got me on some high school shit at that?” Gutter’s eyes were almost pleading now. Lou-Loc whispered something to the girl he had been talking to. From the way she stormed off you could tell that she didn’t take rejection well.
“A’ight, loc, I got you on this here, but I ain’t tricking no bread on getting these chicks faded. You got the crush, you buying the damn drinks.” Lou-Loc swaggered over to the table.
Gutter fumbled around on the bar stool, trying to find a cool-ass position while Lou-Loc approached the table. The girls looked up at him with everything from lust to disgust as he spoke, moving his hands to punctuate his words. One girl, who Gutter would later come to know as Lauren, rolled her eyes while the other two broke out into a fit of laughter. Gutter felt like he had played hisself and wished he’d listened to Lou-Loc. The girl in the green sweater tugged him down by the arm and whispered something in his ear. Lou-Loc shrugged and made his way back to the bar with a smirk on his face.
“What she say, cuz?” Gutter asked, trying not to make eye contact with the girl in the green sweater because she and her friends were staring over at them.
Lou-Loc took his time before answering. “She say that I need to take you home.”
“What?” Gutter looked confused.
“Home girl said that anybody who is still sending his friend to step to girls for him ain’t old enough to be in no bar.” Lou-Loc slipped and let out the laughter he had been holding.
“Fuck you, Lou-Loc.” Gutter shoved him.
“My fault, man, but you should’ve seen your face when I told you you’d been shot down!”
“I ain’t stunting that broad.” Gutter tapped the bar to get the bartender’s attention.
“G, why you just go over there and holla at her?”
“Why, so them bitches can get another good laugh off me? Nah, I’m good.”
Lou-Loc stopped laughing. “Cuz, I know you ain’t scared of no broad? Oh, hell nah, not big muthafucking Gutter from Harlem! Nigga, fuck licking your wounds about this shit, you want shorty then you go get her. You know how we do it on the left, cuz.” Lou-Loc knew just the right things to say to get his friend motivated, because right after Gutter downed the shot of Crown Royal the bartender had set down, he was on his feet and on his way across to the spot where the three girls were sitting.
Gutter’s heart was slamming against his chest so rapidly that it’s a wonder it wasn’t visible through his shirt. Lou-Loc and Crown Royal had put the battery in him, but he was already committed to the move so he couldn’t back out. All eyes were on him as he crossed the room, but when he arrived at the table only the girl in the green sweater kept his gaze.
Gathering his courage Gutter said, “Sup, baby, they call me Gutter. Why don’t you let me buy you a drink of something?”
“No the hell he didn’t,” Lauren said.
“Tired, tired, tired,” the other girl mumbled.
Green sweater turned around in her chair and looked Gutter up and down. “Can I ask you a personal question?”
“Fo sho,” he said, figuring he had her.
“Are you a virgin?”
Gutter looked at her quizzically. “Hell, nah, why?”
“Because it’s a wonder that you can get a woman to sleep with you approaching her like that. No, I don’t know if you prefer hood rats or ghetto girls, but I don’t fall into either category. So if you’re really trying to get my attention you need to rethink your approach.” Without another word, she turned her back to him and went back to her martini.
