WHEN GUTTER
woke up the next morning it felt like he had just gone to sleep. Tears was supposed to drop them off at the hotel, but Blue Bird's greedy ass insisted on stopping at Jack in the Box, where they bumped into some more of the homeys and ended up smoking two more blunts. The sun was damn near up when they finally got back to Westwood.
After showering, Gutter dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt. The bulletproof vest he had gotten from Tears would bulge a bit, but it was better than getting caught slipping. When he removed the contents of the black box resting on his bed he couldn't help but laugh. Inside the box was a Glock and two clips, but not just any Glock, the very same Glock he used to keep at Monifa's. He wondered if it was his ex's idea of a joke, or some ironic reminder of the past he had left behind.
The hotel phone caused Gutter to jump. The front desk informed him that there was someone waiting for him in the lobby. He had no idea who it might be because he didn't tolerate
unannounced guests. After ringing Danny, Gutter tucked his strap in his pants and headed for the hotel lobby.
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“AIN'T THIS
a bitch?” Gutter beamed as he stepped off the elevator and greeted the mystery visitor. He had been ready to come through the lobby shooting until he saw the smiling face of his old friend.
There stood Snake Eyes in all his glory. He was decked out in a blue, striped, Nautica polo. His jeans were starched and creased, cuffed over his white Nikes. His hair was faded almost perfectly into his smooth brown skin. Standing there in a pair of wire-framed glasses Snake Eyes looked every bit of the egghead lawyer that he was. He had become such a square peg over the years that you almost forgot that he was once a killer and dope peddler. The little boy from 102nd and Hoover had done okay for himself.
“My brother,” Gutter said, embracing him.
It had been years since he had last embraced his crime partner. The last time they had been in each other's company Gutter had been lying in a pool of his own blood, fighting for his life. Snake Eyes had come to his rescue, laying down the would-be executioners. Back when Snake Eyes was still putting in work he, Gutter, and Lou-Loc had been as thick as thieves, but their lives had gone in different directions. Snake Eyes now did his fighting through the judicial system and Gutter was still putting in work for the turf.
“What that be like, my nigga?” Snake Eyes struck a mock-thug pose.
“You know it's Harlem-Hoover all day and then some.” Gutter threw up one set then the other.
“You mean Hoover-Harlem.” Snake Eyes threw them up in reverse.
An elderly couple that was checking into the hotel gave them a disgusted look, but kept about their business. “Man, I ain't seen your monkey-ass ever since, baby boy!”
“Shit, if it wasn't for you I wouldn't be here now. Dawg, I never got to really thank you aboutâ”
“Man, knock that shit off.” Snake Eyes waved off his thanks. “Family does for family; you know how we do it. What it is, home boy?” Snake Eyes addressed Danny, who was staring at him curiously.
“Harlem,” Danny said proudly.
“Danny”âGutter draped his arm around the young manâ“this is my homey, Snake Eyes.”
“Yeah, I heard of you.” Danny smiled. “You 'bout ya shit, huh?”
“That was a long time ago,” Snake said evenly. “I have a law practice in Miami now, dealing with a select few clients. I do a lot of wills and trusts for the homeys out here too.”
“Bet that's profitable,” Danny joked.
“Unfortunately.”
“So, what the hell you doing here?” Gutter interjected.
“I heard you flew into town last night, so I came to check you.” Snake Eyes informed him.
“You should've come by the spot. It was enough niggaz in there.”
“Nah.” Snake shifted his weight on the cane. “You know I don't rock with just anybody. Besides, I ain't really wanna let niggaz know I was in the town just yet.”
“You see something that I don't?” asked Gutter.
“We'll talk about it on the way,” Snake said, heading for the door.
“Where we going?” Gutter questioned.
“Carson. I got some things I want to bounce off you. Besides, I got somebody who I think you'll wanna talk to.”
“And who the fuck might that be?”
“Just come on,” Snake Eyes urged.
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“SO, WHAT'S
your take on this, Snake?” Gutter asked from the backseat.
“Honestly, I ain't come up with much more than y'all did,” Snake Eyes admitted. “I made some phone calls and probed into a few people, but don't have much to go on. There's a bunch of rumors, but nothing solid.”
“I heard that some Mad Swans rode down on him, but I ain't confirmed nothing yet.” Gutter stroked his thick beard.
“Interesting.” Snake rubbed his chin. “I did some legal work for B-Boy. You know Blood, he was claiming the Gardens before them niggaz chased him up out and he started sucking Swan dick. He ain't denying that slobs did the shooting, but he put it on the hood that his people were clean of the killing.”
“Somebody's ass is lying and I'm tired of chasing my fucking tail about it. What are the big homeys talking about in the way of payback?” Gutter asked.
“Nothing yet,” Snake Eyes replied. “Nobody wants an all-out war over some knuckleheads tripping, you know how it is.”
“The fuck I do. I know that somebody gonna taste steel over popping my uncle. I don't give a fuck if I gotta mash on every nigga in every hood to flush that wormy muthafucka out. It's on a cracking!” Gutter declared.
“I see getting dropped off on heaven's door hasn't quenched that thirst of yours.” Snake Eyes commented.
“Don't start that shit, man. I get enough of it from Anwar.”
“Wise young dude.”
“Fuck you, nigga. This ain't about me and my business in New York. This is about some slobs touching my uncle, and these old muthafuckas who govern us playing United Nations out this bitch.”
“This shit with Gunn has ruffled quite a few feathers, but all the right moves need to be made to fix it. The old heads is having a hard enough time containing the fighting that's kicked off since the shit happened. Man, these lil niggaz is out here breaking fool, making the hood all hot and shit. The G's are just trying to keep the peace.” Snake Eyes said.
“I hear you, Snake, but I'm a warlord. I don't know nothing 'bout that peace shit. My uncle is a shell of the man I knew, and even if he does live through the injuries, he'll never be the same. Someone has got to answer for this. A debt is a debt.”
Snake Eyes could've argued the point with Gutter until the following summer, but the result would be the same. Trying to change the subject he asked, “How's Sharell?”
“Man, she's getting big as hell. I don't know if she's having a baby or a damn elephant.” Gutter smiled, thinking about his boo, but the smile quickly faded when his mind went back to Satin.
“Everything all right with the baby?” Snake Eyes asked with concern in his voice.
“Oh, everything is cool with Sharell, but it's Satin I'm worried about.” Gutter gave him the short version of what he'd learned from Sharell.
“Muthafucka.” Snake Eyes shook his head. “Pregnant? Gutter, why didn't one of you call me? Dawg, I gotta get the ball rolling to get her out.” Snake Eyes said, pulling out his two-way and scrolling through the numbers.
“Man, you know the laws don't work in favor of the blacks.
They'd have you tied up in red tape for God only knows how long, not to mention the fact that the girl has got that murder beef still hanging over her head. Nah, we need to get her out ASAP, but ain't no need to trip because I got somebody on the job already.”
“Who?” Snake Eyes asked.
Gutter's cell going off drew his attention. He glanced at the caller ID screen and smiled when he saw the 347 area code. Before flipping his phone open, he looked to his friend and said, “You don't even wanna know.”
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CARSON WAS
a small city situated on the border between L.A. and Compton. It was composed mostly of Samoans and Filipinos, but also hosted a Latino and black population. Though a seemingly quiet town its location and the large mall in its center made it a rest haven for gangs. Since its construction it had been contested territory between the Crips and Bloods. Over the last few years the East Coast Crips had been the controlling faction.
Snake Eyes piloted the Regal down Carson Avenue and banked a left onto Dominguez. About a half mile down they turned into the mall parking lot. The large IKEA sign loomed overhead like an open invitation. The morning sun was still beaming in full effect, so the lot was filled almost to capacity. Snake Eyes parked the car near the edge of the lot and killed the engine.
“Nigga, we got planning to do and you wanna shop?” Danny asked.
“Danny, shut up, please.” Gutter eased out, and joined Snake Eyes. “What's this all about, Snake?”
“I'll explain it to you as we walk,” Snake said, cutting across the grass leading to a small walkway. They followed a long wall, which served as the divider between the mall parking lot and a grungy-looking
suburb. Below the level on which they stood was a basketball court, which had a crowd of young men gathered in the center. Apparently, two of them were squaring off over a dispute.
“Snake, where are we going, man?” Gutter asked, following him down the stairs.
“Like I told you before we left, there's someone here who I think you might like to see,” Snake Eyes continued. “It's a cousin of yours flew in to be with the big homey in his time of need.”
“Snake, I got a lot of cousins in town. What's so special about this one?”
“Just watch,” Snake Eyes said, leading them toward the crowd.
When they had almost reached the crowd of spectators, one of them branched off and moved to join the trio. He looked to be about seventeen or eighteen years old, sporting a blue Dickies suit and short cornrows.
“Sup, cuz,” Marv greeted them.
Snake Eyes shook the young man's hand. “What's going on over here?”
“Shit, De Shawn is going head up with the lil homey from Suicide. He tried to punk the lil nigga, but shorty is getting 'em up like a true G.”
Gutter and Snake Eyes followed Marv to the circle, where onlookers watched the fight and took bets. In the center were two combatants. Both were breathing hard, but neither was ready to give. The dark-skinned combatant had a busted lip and a bruise was beginning to form under his eye. The light-skinned combatant also sported a bruised face, and his nose didn't seem to wanna quit bleeding.
The light-skinned one shot out a right, which the dark-skinned one feinted and then launched a powerful left. The blow connected, but didn't drop him. The two men circled each other like angry
dogs, every so often throwing a punch. The light-skinned boy outweighed the dark-skinned one, but couldn't intimidate him.
Growing impatient, the light-skinned one shot out of his corner throwing combinations. The dark-skinned one deflected most of the blows, but still took shots to his chest and head. He staggered back, seemingly ready to drop. The light-skinned one decided to take advantage of the opportunity and move in for the kill.
“Who's the lil nigga there, Snake?” Gutter asked curiously.
“You mean, you really don't know?” Snake asked, surprised.
“Nah, cuz. Should I?”
“I would think so. Y'all share the same genes.”
De Shawn came at the dark-skinned boy with an overhand right, trying to knock his head off. The dark-skinned boy waited until the last moment and moved out of the way. The momentum of the swing took De Shawn off balance. When he tried to right himself, the dark-skinned one came in raining blows to the back of his head. De Shawn swayed but didn't fall. He feebly tried to mount a defense, but a well-placed haymaker ended the fight. He was out cold.
“Suicide, bitch!”
The dark-skinned boy bellowed, planting his foot on his opponent's chest.
The crowd erupted into cheers and patted him on the back as he was steered through the mob. Outside the ring, he was greeted by the man whom he knew to be Snake Eyes and two others he didn't know. He stared at the bearded man and tried to place his face. Seeing this familiar face staring at him made him uncomfortable. It wasn't the way the man was looking at him, but the way he
looked
. The young boy had smooth dark skin and their eyes were almost the same shade of green, but he couldn't think where he knew him from.