S
ATIN MADE
a mad dash through the kitchen, almost slipping in a puddle of blood left by the man Gutter had killed. The house was covered in it. Some were from the enemy, but most of it was from Hollywood, who had died trying to protect them. The dead man, still clutching his gun, stared at her through vacant eyes, while she fumbled through the kitchen drawer for the car keys.
The air was filled with the sounds of gunfire and screams of the dead, but she tried not to focus on it. She felt bad abandoning Sharell, but there wasn't much she could do for her considering all that was going on. Her best was to go for help and hope that Gutter could hold out until she got back. Even though he was waging a losing war, Gutter refused to give up.
After finding the keys, she broke for the garage door. The entire garage was a hot mess. Faint rays of sunshine dotted the automatic gate from the bullet holes that had almost completely shredded it. Paint and other chemicals were leaking all over the
place making it almost impossible to breathe. Clasping her hand over her mouth and nose, she made her way over to Gutter's Camry, which had also been hit up, and prayed it was still operable. God had been good to her that day because it turned over with no problem.
Outside it sounded like the additional guns had joined the fray. Whether they were friend or foe, she had no way to tell.
How many more would have to die?
she thought. Not being able to hold it back anymore, Satin finally broke down into tears. She had lost everything, her brother, her sanity, and the love of her life. She was tired of being the victim. It would end once and for all she vowed as she threw the car in reverse.
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“COME ON,
muthafuckas!” Gutter snarled. He fired two more shots at the advancing soldiers and made a dive for the couch. No sooner than he was airborne, a hail of bullets whistled through the house. He had managed to avoid most of them, but a stray caught him in the leg. Gutter crashed awkwardly to the ground, but still managed to clear the couch. Taking a minute to examine his leg he noted that the bullet seemed to have passed through it cleanly. The bum leg would tip the scales against him, as if the battle wasn't already lopsided, but it didn't really matter. Kenyatta Soladine was a man who was used to beating the odds.
Gutter refreshed his clip, but that was the last of his ammo. As he crawled to get a better angle on his attacker, he came across the body of Pop Top, the betrayer. He had trusted him with the life of his family and obviously Pop Top's greed overrode his morality. Not only had he endangered the life of Gutter's wife and unborn child, but he'd cost Hollywood his own life. Gutter vowed that Hollywood's death would not be in vain. Summoning every ounce
of strength in his body, he grabbed the bottom of the couch and lifted.
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TITO CROUCHED
behind a recliner, while motioning for the soldiers to keep at it. Bullets tagged the couch where Gutter was hiding, sending cotton and fabric flying all through the air. He knew if he didn't get Gutter this time, he was a dead man. Major Blood had been clear on that.
“Fuck this,” Tito said, standing with his shotgun raised. The sound in closed quarters was almost deafening, as he let it go over and over, tearing the living room up. When it finally clicked empty, he motioned for his men to hold their fire.
When the smoke cleared, the room looked like a war zone. Everything that could be destroyed was. The walls, the entertainment system, it was all ruined. The couch was coming apart at the seams. Springs and padding jutted out at every angle. Tito knew there was no way Gutter could've survived. Suddenly, the couch Gutter had been using for cover flew in their direction. Tito was so busy trying to avoid the flying furniture that he never even saw the bullet coming.
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THE CAMRY
sent the garage door flying outward drawing the attention of everyone on the lawn. Bullets immediately rained on the Camry, causing Satin to swerve and hit a fire hydrant when she tried to jump the curb. She tried to gun the car forward, but it was caught on the hydrant. Through horrified eyes she watched several of the gunmen take aim and thought of how she had failed her baby.
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“HARLEM!” GUTTER
shouted, blazing at his enemies. He spotted Tito trying to get out of the way and paid special attention to him. With a jerk of the trigger, he hit Tito twice in the chest, then burst his head like a rotten tomato. The soldiers were so shocked by seeing their general murdered that they paused, giving Gutter enough time to hurl himself through the window.
The picture windows in the front of the house all exploded in a spray of glass and wood. Gutter hit the ground rolling. His ears were ringing and he was dizzy as hell, but his battle instincts took over. He staggered back, firing at any and everyone that he didn't recognize. The soldiers returned fire, hitting Gutter once in the gut. He fell back, but managed to roll behind the X5 for cover.
He leaned against the SUV, gasping, and trying to plan his next move. Gutter took a moment to assess how badly hurt he really was. His lungs were on fire and his leg had gone totally numb. Surrounded by enemies and on his own he was surely on his way to sit with Allah. He wasn't afraid to die, but he was afraid to leave his wife and unborn child to fend for themselves. Knowing the curtain call when he heard it, Gutter made to take his last stand.
Just as he was about to roll from his hiding place he heard a car speeding in his direction. He peered from behind the tire and saw his truck come jumping the curb. Two more cars followed it, packed with armed and angry homeys. With Danny-Boy leading the charge the tide was suddenly shifted.
Major's men tried to stand against them, but the Harlem riders had come for blood and wouldn't be denied. With automatic weapons of all shapes and sizes, they blasted away at the Bloods. Even Gutter managed to muster up the strength to rejoin the firefight. He and his crew cut down anything moving.
Gutter's attention was drawn by the sound of screeching tires. He looked over and saw his Camry come flying out of the garage.
Satin plowed into a cluster of men while they hit the car up from all angles. She had almost cleared the curb when the car smacked into a fire hydrant. Major Blood abandoned the assault on the Crips and turned his attention to Satin.
Gutter screamed and emptied his clip. Most of the shots went wild, but his last one struck Major Blood in his chest, dropping the would-be killer. Ignoring the pain in his leg, Gutter limped across the street, silently praying that Satin was okay. Thankfully she was badly bruised but alive.
“Baby girl, you hurt?” he asked, examining her.
“I think I'm okay,” she said, rubbing her stomach. “You look like hell though.”
“Shit, I've been worse. I was in a coma a few months ago, remember?” he joked. “Stay put, ma, we're gonna get you and Sharell out of here.”
Gutter looked around and surveyed the carnage. The streets were littered with bodies and damaged property. The police were gonna have a shit fit, but he'd cross that bridge when he came to it. Satin was safe and so was her child. That was the important thing at the moment. Gutter was so weary he wanted to collapse. His body ached almost as bad as when he had come out of the coma. Though he was hurt physically, his fatigue came from inside. He had seen enough death over the past few weeks than any ten men would see in a lifetime. Reflecting on all that had transpired he finally understood why Lou-Loc wanted to get out.
The game they had played since children yielded more losses than gains. From New York to California there would be mothers buying suits to bury their children in. He had played the roles of god and devil, destroying the same world his child would have to live in. Death was not a legacy he wanted to leave behind. Now that all scores were settled he was going to hang the game up like
Sharell had always urged him to. Until the day he left the world he would be a Crip, but now he would be a father and husband first.
Gutter's moment of reflection was broken up when he heard someone shout a warning. He looked over and saw a bloodied Major Blood weakly aiming his pistol. He started to dive for cover, but Major wasn't aiming at him. He was aiming past him, at Satin.
The whole world moved in slow motion. Satin stared vacantly at Major Blood as he applied pressure to the trigger. The muzzle flashed and the bullets seemed to trickle from it. Without even thinking, Gutter made his move. The first bullet hit him in the arm, tearing through the muscles and snapping the bone. He was falling, but the bullet that entered just above his heart kept him standing. Gutter slid down the side of the Camry, leaving a bloody smear across the window.
“No!”
Satin screamed as she watched the bullets tear into Gutter. Forcing her door open Satin crawled from the car to where Gutter was laying. She called his name over and over again, but he just stared at her. Blood oozed from Gutter's nose and mouth, coating Satin's hands and the front of her blouse. “Not again,” she whispered.
Gunn looked from his cousin to Major, who was smiling through bloodied teeth. Snatching a piece of broken wood from the wreckage of someone's fence, Gunn marched over to where Major Blood was laid out. He looked down at the man, expecting him to bitch up, but Major Blood laughed.
“I always fill my contracts,” Major Blood croaked.
“And the Soladines never leave debts unsettled. This is for my daddy, bitch!” Using all his might, Gunn plunged the wood into Major's chest. Using his foot, he pushed the wood deeper into the murderer of his father, squirting blood on his sneaker. Major twitched and died, still wearing that smug-ass grin.
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WITH THE
help of one of the homeys, Sharell came staggering from the house. She was bloodied and the contractions were kicking her ass, but she needed to get to her man. The sight before her almost made her break down. Gutter was laying on the ground with blood pouring from several holes in his body.
“No!”
Sharell shrieked and made her way over to where Gutter was stretched out, surrounded by homeys. They moved aside and allowed Sharell into the circle.
Satin was kneeling over Gutter, crying uncontrollably. When she noticed Sharell she took her hand and they cried together. Even on the brink of death, Gutter tried to soothe her. He touched Sharell's face, leaving a bloody print on her cheek. He opened his mouth as if he was going to speak, but all that came out was more blood. Gunn barked for one of the men to get an ambulance, while he knelt beside the ladies and Gutter.
“You gonna be all right, cuz,” Gunn sobbed.
Gutter looked at his cousin and shook his head. He wanted to believe him, but he knew his time was at an end. Gutter had always heard stories about what death was like, but nothing could've prepared him for what would happen next.
He could feel the numbness starting in his toes and working its way up through his body. He held on to Sharell's and Satin's hands, but he could feel his strength fading. Danny-Boy stood over them with tear-filled eyes, while Gunn was rocking back and forth praying.
“Kenyatta Soladine, you better not die and leave me an unwed mother.” Sharell tried to get him to focus, but his eyes were already starting to glaze over. “Kenyatta? Gutter, stay with me!”
Gutter could hear her speaking, but couldn't make out the
words over the roar of the car's engine. For a minute he thought it might be an ambulance, but he had never seen an ambulance sitting on twenty-inch rims. Gutter turned his head to see who else had come to say their goodbyes, but found that he couldn't see through the bright light. When his eyes managed to focus, he found himself staring at the most beautiful electric-blue Cadillac, sitting on gold wires.
“Sup, cuz?” he whispered.
Sharell looked over her shoulder to see who he was talking to, but saw nothing. Satin, on the other hand, had an idea when she smelled the tilled earth.
“Give him my love.” Satin kissed Gutter's hand, which was getting cold.
Lou-Loc was slumped low in the driver's seat, wearing a white Los Angeles Dodgers cap. He peered out from behind his sunglasses and smiled at Gutter. No words were needed to convey the message. The madness had finally ended and no one else could hurt him. He was free.
When It's All Said and Done
I had broken down several times in the telling of my story, but I was surprised when I looked up and saw that Baby had tears in his eyes too. Cats like Baby didn't cry easy, but I didn't knock him for it. I knew what he felt in his chest, because I had felt the very same thing when I'd first heard the story. I hadn't meant to upset him, but in a way I was glad I had told him the story; the burden didn't feel so heavy anymore.
“You okay?” I touched his shoulder.
“Yeah, I'm cool,” he lied. “It's just that, I had no idea how wild them niggaz was. Ya pops dropped mad muthafuckas for his man.” He wasn't boasting, just stating a fact. My father had killed many men, and ordered the deaths of even more over the blood debt.
After recalling the story I wasn't sure if I hated my father for being a murderer, or pitied him for being a product of his environment. What I was sure of was that I knew both my parents better after what I'd learned, and had a newfound respect for my mother for what she'd lived through.
“Aren't you going to finish the story?”
I turned around and saw my mother standing in the doorway. I'm not sure how long she had been standing there, but her face was streaked with tears.
“Mom, Iâ” She placed her finger over my lips.
“No, Kenyatta. It's my story, so please let me tell it.” She sat on the edge of my bed between me and Baby. “Later that night, after the shooting, I went into labor. At five forty-nine the next morning I gave birth to my pride and joy.” She cupped my cheek gently. “A few months later, Satin pushed your little troublesome self out.” She smiled at Baby Loc. “Snake Eyes moved us down here and we tried to bury our pasts and focus on making sure you guys didn't get lost in the shuffle.
“Kenyatta, when I looked at your little wrinkled face, it eased my pain just a little bit. In the moments I pushed you out of my womb, it was all a bad dream and my soul mate was still alive. Kenyatta, I never told you the whole truth about your father, because I didn't want to soil your memory of him. Lord knows I loved that man more than anything, but it doesn't change the fact that he walked with the devil, because it was what he had been programmed to do, same as the rest of some of these young guys. How could I tell my little girl that her father was a murderer?”
She must've noticed my face stiffen because she pulled me in for a hug. “Baby girl, your father had a beautiful soul, and had he had more time here I'm sure he'd have been a great husband and father, but the streets won't give you up that easy, that's why I've busted my ass to keep you away from that side of the coin. Me and Satin know better than anyone how strong the call can be.”
Tears had blurred my vision, but I managed to find my mother's hand. “I'm sorry, Mom, I didn't mean to hurt you with my story, I just thought it needed to be told.”
“And it does,” she agreed, which surprised me since she was ranting about it a few hours prior. “It wasn't that you hurt me by telling the story, it just brought back some old demons. That night at the house, we all almost died. Me, you, Baby, Satin, those men had every intention on killing us and they would've had it not been for Gutter. In a sense, this story is his legacy. If those people want to publish it, I think you should let them.”
“You mean it?” I asked, knowing I had heard her wrong.
“Yes.” She smiled. “By publishing his story, his memory will live on in the pages of that book long after we're gone.”
I wrapped my arms around my mother so tight that I thought I heard her cough.
“Wow, I don't even get that kind of love on Christmas,” she joked. “But seriously, I want you to do what your heart tells you to.”
“Thank you so much, Mommy. I'm gonna dedicate the book to you!”
“That's nice, baby, but first things first. I'm gonna call your professor so we can set up a meeting with these publishing people, but I'm going to talk to Snake Eyes about it first. Baby”âshe turned to my crime partnerâ“I think you'd better go on home, honey. Kenyatta's father wasn't the only one with a story. Your mom has something she needs to talk to you about.”
“A'ight, Auntie.” He got off the bed and started for the window. “Dollar, I'll come check you later.” He swung one leg out the window.
“And use the door next time!” my mother called after him, as she always did when she caught Baby-Loc climbing in and out of my window. But we both knew that he never would. “Now”âshe stoodâ“I've got some phone calls to make.”
As my mom left my room I suddenly felt overcome with joy. I had always dreamt of having something I wrote published somewhere
other than the school paper, and it looked like it was finally going to happen. Little Kenyatta Soladine would be a published author. I wondered if they would sign me for just one book, or give me a multibook deal, and if so, what would I write about in my next one? I lay back on my bed and smiled. With all the stories I'd heard about the gangsters in my family over spring break, I was sure I'd think of something.