5

“Never sell no crack where you rest at, I don’t care if they want a ounce, tell ’em bounce.”

—“Ten Crack Commandments,” Notorious B.I.G.

1988

A light mist of rain fell from the sky. It was seventy-seven degrees at eleven ten pm on a Friday night. The blacktop streets shined from the thin mist of rain that covered them. A patrol car slid and then came to a full stop. Radio dispatchers could be heard over the walkie-talkies the police carried.

Onlookers covered the street corners, trying to see what was going on. Lil Nut stood with his crew in front of Akbar’s bar. All the patrons from the bar had filtered out onto the sidewalk. Some hustlers continued to conduct drug sales right under the policemen’s noses.

“Damn, look at that cat in the car,” a male bystander said.

“I think I’m gonna be sick,” a woman said to her friend as she turned her head away from the scene.

Two bodies lay twisted in the middle of the street, and another dead body sat behind the wheel of a car. The driver’s head lay on the headrest, and it was clear that his face was blown away. Nothing but blood and brain matter was visible. The medical examiners and crime scene investigators hadn’t arrived yet, so nothing had been placed over the dead men’s bodies to cover the gruesome sight.

“Damn, that dude ain’t have a chance,” another male bystander said.

“Look at the other two. They had about as much of a chance as the cat in the car,” another onlooker commented.

The back of the head of one of the bodies lying on the ground was missing. His brain matter oozed onto the street. The other male had a gaping hole in his back, almost severing his torso.

More police officers arrived, along with television cameras and the news media. The police began to go into the crowd of onlookers and ask questions.

“Let’s be out,” Lil Nut said as if on cue. He wanted no part of the cameras or the police questioning.

Lil Nut and his crew walked off, making their way through the crowd.

“That’s fucked up what happened to Devine and ’em,” Butter said.

“Yeah, I bet you it was the Boogie Crew that hit them and shit,” Fatman said, looking back at the scene they’d just left. “I know they’re the ones that murked Fuquan and Red on some jealousy shit.”

“Nigga don’t you think if I thought they had something to do with my man getting murdered they wouldn’t be breathing right now? Fuck the Boogie Crew. Them niggas’ soft. You know I don’t have a problem letting my thing go. As I told ya’ll niggas last year, I think Fuquan got caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. Shit fucked up. No doubt he probably went down to the basement looking for Red and most likely got played out by some fiend,” Lil Nut reasoned. He never did let his crew know he was the one who rocked Fuquan to sleep. He thought it was better this way.

“Yeah, you right,” Fatman replied. “I just miss that nigga, that’s all.”

“We all do,” Butter stated.

They were all in deep thought as they walked in silence. Their sneakers, missing the laces, clonked on the wet pavement. Crack vials lay scattered about the sidewalk. Fatman stepped on the vials, crunching them under his feet.

They knew the guys who got smoked just a few blocks back. They were all cool with each other, and had no beefs with their crew. So it kinda hit home to see them dead and disfigured.

The horn of a car sounded off and they all looked up. The window came down and Skinny Lorene stuck her head out of the passenger window.

“Hey, Nut!” she called.

Lil Nut looked over at her, but kept walking. Skinny Lorene was his aunt, his mother’s other sister. He hated what she had become. She was one of the many crack addicts on the streets.

“Nut!” she called again.

The fellas all looked at Lil Nut, wondering why he wasn’t responding to his aunt’s calls. No one said a word, though. They just kept walking alongside and behind him.

A white man who looked to be Italian was driving the old, rusted yellow Vega that Lorene occupied. He crept alongside the crew as instructed by Lorene.

Lil Nut figured the man was probably some trick she suckered into spending his money on some get-high.

All of a sudden Lil Nut stopped walking. His boys all stopped as well. He walked over to the car, which had also stopped and idled in the street.

“Hey, baby boy, you holding?” Lorene asked.

“No, I ain’t got nothing. Do me a favor, Lorene, and don’t come looking for me in the streets for no drugs. I ain’t got nothing,” he said simply. He walked away from the car and back onto the sidewalk.

“Oh, so it’s like that, huh, Nut? You got you a little money, and you think you all that?” she yelled at him.

As the crew followed behind Lil Nut, the car continued to drive alongside them, and Skinny Lorene continued to yell at Nut out of the window.

“Yeah, all right, I got your number. Nephew or not, you done fucked up!”

Lil Nut was becoming more furious by the second. His aunt was calling him out in front of his crew and a white dude he didn’t know.

Lil Nut knew that Skinny Lorene was not the one to fuck with. Even before she became a crack addict, she was ruthless on the streets, always fighting or starting fights. She was of the streets and loved to brawl. After becoming addicted to crack her personality worsened. She’d always been a shit talker, but now she was worse. When Skinny Lorene needed that blast and couldn’t get it, she was worse than the devil himself.

Butter tried to reason with Lil Nut. “Nut, man, come on, just serve her before she snitch on us.”

Lil Nut kept walking, looking at the ground with his hands shoved into his jeans pockets. His face was twisted. What he was really thinking about doing was pulling his gun from his waistband and just doing away with his aunt and her big mouth. But Lil Nut had too much respect for women, crack addicts included. That was why all women loved him.

Skinny Lorene continued to talk shit to Lil Nut.

“Yo, man, serve her,” Nut instructed no one in particular, and then disappeared into the courtyard of the projects where he lived. Fatman walked over to the car and served Skinny Lorene while Butter continued to walk with Lil Nut.

***

Early the next morning Lil Nut had just lain down to go to sleep. It was three am and his body was tired. His head sank into the pillow and he could feel his body floating on the twin mattress. It felt good, and he welcomed the comfort. He was ten minutes into his dream when he heard something hit his window. He knew was dreaming, or that it was the noise from the window fan.

He opened his eyes and looked at the ceiling. He lay still, listening intently, making sure the noise was nothing more than his imagination. He was able to see a roach climbing his bedroom wall from the streetlights that shined through his window. As he watched the bug crawl, he heard the noise again. He knew he wasn’t dreaming this time. He sat up in the bed and swung his feet around, placing them on the floor. All he wore were his boxers.

A thin layer of sweat covered his chocolate muscular body, making it glisten. A big keloid scar ran down the front of his chest from where a bullet from a .44 Magnum almost claimed his life. Although Lil Nut survived that night, he had his scar to remind him of it every day.

Who the fuck could this be? he wondered before standing.

He reached under his mattress and pulled out his gun before approaching his window.

Ping! Something hit the window again. He crept along the creaking wood floor and approached the window from the side. He peeked out of the top windowpane and saw Skinny Lorene looking around on the ground. He lowered his gun and lifted the screen on the window. Just as he stuck his head out the window, she tossed another rock up at the window, almost hitting him in the face.

“Word to the mother, you illin’!’ he yelled down at her.

“Hey, Nut, you got anything on you?” she asked. She looked up at him with desperation written all over her face.

Standing there, just skin and bones, she continued to look up at Lil Nut with pleading eyes as he thought about his answer.

“I ain’t got nothing,” he said simply.

“Come on, Nut, I know you got something. I got money.” She held up a fist full of wrinkled bills.

Lil Nut sighed and dropped his head. “I said I ain’t got nothing.”

“That’s how you gon’ do me? Come on, just let me get three and I won’t bother you no more,” she promised.

Lil Nut pulled his head in from the window and thought about it. Maybe if he just sold her the three she would go away. He figured if he didn’t, she wasn’t gonna leave, and depending on how bad she wanted a hit, she was definitely gonna show out. Plus he didn’t want his mother to wake up and find her out front at this time of the morning. His mother had banned her from coming around their house.

He began to step away from the window, and was about to go to the stash and get her the three vials when she called out to him again.

“Nut!”

He stuck his head out of the window quickly.

“Chill out!” he said in a loud whisper. “I’m coming.”

He knew that this was a bad idea. But he was gonna make sure he told her when he got downstairs that this was the first and the last time he served her from his crib.

Lil Nut threw on a pair of Nike sweats and snuck out of the apartment. He opted to take the stairs instead of the elevator. Once in the stairwell, the smell of urine assaulted his nose immediately. He thought about leaving the staircase and taking the elevator, but that thought left his mind quickly. Either route he took it was going to be one pissy experience. The elevator reeked of urine as well, but not as badly. He walked through the stairwell doors and headed down the hall to the front door.

Before he could get to the front door, Skinny Lorene was standing there peering into the glass part of the door, watching for him. She had her face pressed up against the dirty glass, and when she saw Lil Nut coming, she backed away, looking around frantically as she left fog from her breathing on the glass. Her hands shook and she looked as if she’d seen a ghost by the way her eyes stretched wide.

“Lorene, listen, I’ma do this for you this one time. This ain’t no crack house, so don’t come back here no more.” He looked at her seriously, but respectfully. After all, she was still his aunt, no matter what her crutch was.

“Yeah, yeah, Nut. You got ’em?” She was obviously ignoring his statement as she looked over her shoulder.

“Yeah. How many you want again?” he asked before actually pulling out any capsules from the pocket of his jogging suit pants. He knew what she had asked him for earlier, but he also knew that Skinny Lorene almost never came with the right amount of money for the product she wanted. Then if the dealer would refuse her service because of it, she would have the nerve to wild out on them.

Skinny Lorene began to count the wrinkled bills as if she didn’t know how much she had before she came to cop. She made this funny sound with her mouth. It sounded like the noise most people made when their throat itched and they tried to get relief.

Lil Nut looked at her impatiently. He leaned up against the frame of the door, trying to remain calm. He scratched the scar on his chest because it began to itch. He breathed through his nose, sighing impatiently. He watched Skinny Lorene count the money for a third time. He had already counted the money when he watched her count it the first two times. So he knew exactly how much she had, and of course she didn’t have enough. He was just waiting to hear the story she was going tell him to be able to get the credit on the product.

Skinny Lorene started counting the money yet again. She kept losing her count because of her delusional state.

She had twenty-three dollars, and the capsules went for ten each.

“I need three of them jumbos,” she said, looking around, clearly paranoid.

“How much you got?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

“I got enough, Nut. Let me get the three jumbos,” she said with an attitude as she shoved the money into his hand and held out her other hand to receive the crack.

“Lorene, this ain’t thirty beans. This is twenty-three,” Lil Nut said as he separated the money.

“That ain’t thirty? I counted thirty.” Skinny Lorene kept looking back over her shoulder onto the street as if she was looking at someone or something.

Lil Nut knew she was high, because he knew the effects crack had on a person. Most crack smokers became paranoid. But he followed her eyes anyway to see what she was looking for.

Parked out on the street was the yellow Vega that she was in earlier that night. Lil Nut knew that was the white man she was with earlier.

“Who that cat you with, Lorene?” he asked as he threw his head up toward the car waiting for her.

“Oh, him?” She turned and looked back at the car. “He just some sucker I met.” She turned back to face Lil Nut. “He ain’t nobody to worry ’bout.” She waved her hand.

“Yo, I don’t care who he is. You can’t be coming over the crib wanting to cop and then bringing some square with you,” Lil Nut told her.

“Yeah, Nut, I know you said that already. You gonna let me get the jumbos or what?” She placed her hand on her hip with authority.

Lil Nut looked down at the money. “Come on,” he said.

Lil Nut back peddled into the hallway with Skinny Lorene following him. He just didn’t feel right serving her while the man in the car was watching.

“How you gonna play me, Lorene? It’s twenty-three here.” He held up the bills in the palm of his fist. “Don’t try and play me. All you had to say was you was short.”

“I’m high as hell, Nut, and I must have counted it wrong. I swear I thought I had thirty there. Can’t you let me go this time and I’ma make sure I come to you correct the next time.”

Lil Nut knew Skinny Lorene was trying to pull a fast one, but he went into the pocket of his jogging suit pants, pulled out three jumbo capsules, and handed them to her. Skinny Lorene had the nerve to examine them as if he was trying beat her out of her money.

“Damn, these shits is fat as hell. That’s what I’m talking ’bout. Good looking out, Nut. I know this shit good too,” she babbled.

Lorene wasted no time heading for the door to leave.

“Yo!” Lil Nut called out to her.

She whipped around impatiently. “What?” she asked, her face showing aggravation.

“Remember what I said.”

“Come on, boy, damn!” She huffed and stormed out of the building.

***

The next day Lil Nut met Butter in the courtyard. They were waiting on Fatman, who lived in the Riverdale houses. They sat on one of the benches and kicked it.

“So when we gonna go re-up?” Butter asked.

“Shit, we can go today. I just gotta go get the loot outta the stash,” Lil Nut responded. He carefully tucked the laces on his red on white Pumas into the sides of the sneakers.

“So which female we gonna take with us this time?” Butter wanted to know.

They always took a female with them when they were to get more drug supply, so that she could carry the drugs in case the police stopped them. Because they were young boys that dressed well and clearly had money, the police often accused them of being drug dealers.

“I don’t know. Maybe we can take Sheila.”

“Sheila?! Fuck that, no!” Butter said, displeased with Lil Nut’s answer.

“What’s wrong with Sheila?” Lil Nut asked as he straightened out the huge gold rope chain that hung around his neck.

“Man, you know what happened the last time we took her with us.”

“She a’ight, man. She just like to talk. Don’t nobody really fuck with her like that. So when she’s around somebody that shows her some interest, she gravitates to them.”

Butter stood, placed one foot on the bench, and put his elbow on his knee, leaning on it for support.

“You can’t be serious, Nut? The chick is ugly as hell! That’s why don’t nobody fuck with her ass. I mean she got little ass teeth and big ass pink gums. Her shits don’t even look like real teeth, man.”

Lil Nut was counting money while Butter talked. At Butter’s comment, he stopped mid-count. He raised his head slowly until his evil eyes reached Butter’s.

Butter stood upright and stepped back a few steps, realizing he had fucked up with Lil Nut.

Lil Nut simply put the money back in his pocket, pulled out his gun, and put it up to Butter’s forehead.

Butter stood there with his head held steady, holding his breath. He was afraid to breathe, knowing all the while that Lil Nut was a crazy motherfucker.

“What I tell y’all niggas about dissin’ females? Stop doing that shit around me. Your mother is a woman, my mother is a woman. I ain’t feeling that shit, and this is the last time I’m gonna say this. You feel me?” he asked with anger in his voice.

“Yeah, Yeah! Come on, man, chill out, Nut! You ain’t gotta do all this. I’m supposed to be your boy.” Butter tried to soften the mood.

“Yo!” Fatman yelled, running toward the pair.

They both looked in his direction and could tell something was wrong.

“Yo, this nigga just robbed me!” Fatman said.

“Who?” Lil Nut and Butter asked at the same time.

“Come on!” Fatman took off running with the other two right on his heels.

The three of them ran up Belmont Avenue to Livonia. They stopped at the corner and tried to catch their breaths.

“What the fuck happened?” Lil Nut yelled at Fatman.

“I was on my way down to your crib when this nigga walked up with Sticky. They wanted to cop. I told Sticky to show me the money first,” he said between deep breaths. “So Sticky said it wasn’t for him. It was for dude. So the dude showed me the money. I pulled out the bag with the jumbos in ’em, he snatched the bag, and they peeled out!”

“Oh, shit!” Butter said.

Lil Nut didn’t respond. He just kept looking at Fatman. He was steaming and was ready

to put a bullet in anybody at that moment.

“So where they at?” Butter asked, still breathing hard from the run.

“I dunno. I thought maybe we could catch them if we came back down here,” he said.

“Psshh!” Lil Nut sighed and rubbed his hand across his face, trying to calm down. “Why the fuck you had us run all the way the fuck down here?”

“’Cause like I said, I thought maybe we could catch them.” Fatman was serious.

“Damn it, man! Use your fucking head. They crackheads. You seriously think them motherfuckers would be standing out here waiting on the corner for us to come looking for them? Give me a fucking break, man! Y’all killing me!”

“Chill out, Nut,” Butter said, trying to calm him.

“Naw, that shit is stupid as hell. A fucking crackhead will beat you and dip out of sight. That’s how they operate. In and out!” he shouted, walking away from the two.

They searched high and low for Sticky and his friend. They went into crack houses and the whole nine, and still they came up with nothing.

“Lil Nut, man, we out here tryna find these fiends, chasing our tails and coming up with nothing,” Butter told him.

“Yeah, we might as well take the L for the team and get something to eat. I’m hungry as shit,” Fatman added.

Lil Nut was pissed and could have searched all day, but he knew his friends were right. It was his pride that was getting the best of him. But he just knew they were somewhere inside one of those projects, watching the crew look for them.

“A’ight,” he finally agreed, and the three of them went to the pizza parlor.

After eating they walked to Rockaway and Pitkin Avenue where they usually set up shop.

“So, Fatman, you ever seen the cat that was with Sticky before?” Lil Nut asked.

“Naw, man, I ain’t never seen him before. He was a white dude.”

Just then a brand new 1988 Audi Quattro cruised down the street. It was a bright red color that stood out like a sore thumb. It stopped at the red light at the corner. Everyone in the crew was in a trance, eyes glued to the beautiful hunk of metal.

“That shit is phat as hell,” Butter said.

“Word up,” Fatman chimed in.

It was as if the driver knew the boys were admiring his car. He sat there at the light revving the engine, and when the light turned green, he peeled out, tires spinning and howling before he jetted from the corner.

“Damn! That shit is fire!” Fatman yelled.

They all walked to the curb and leaned forward, looking down the street to where the Audi was traveling. After the car was out of sight, they walked back to their corner.

Fatman and Butter were chopping it up about the car when Lil Nut interrupted their conversation.

“Fatman.”

Fatman looked over at Lil Nut. “What’s up?”

“You said dude was white?”

“Yeah.”

Lil Nut looked down at the ground, clearly deep in thought.

Fatman continued to look at Lil Nut, waiting to see if he was going to say anything else. When he didn’t, Fatman turned back to Butter and they started talking again. The two of them were used to Lil Nut’s strange behavior. They knew that when he acted that way, that he was concentrating on something. That was why he was the brains of the crew, because he was wise beyond his years.

***

It was a little after midnight, and Fatman and Butter were playing basketball with a balled up paper bag, trying to shoot it into the garbage can that was chained to the light pole.

“All net!” Butter shouted after he shot a jumper over Fatman’s head.

The paper bag hit the tip of the can and fell to the ground.

“Yeah! Now watch and let me school you, young boy,” Fatman said.

Fatman picked up the bag and began to squeeze it together with both hands, reshaping it. He backed up several feet from the can to the imaginary foul line.

Butter stood in front him. He grabbed the legs of his sweatpants and pulled them up so that he would have room in them to squat down in the defense stance.

Fatman bent over and swayed from side to side as the two looked each other in the eyes. He faked right, and Butter went to the right. Fatman dipped back to the left, leaving Butter behind. He ran to the garbage can and slam-dunked.

“Unh! Yeah, boyeee!” Fatman yelled as he ran halfway down the sidewalk and back.

“Ah, man, whatever,” Butter waved his hand at the boasting Fatman was doing.

Fatman ran over to Butter and stuck out his hand out for a handshake. “Good game, man.” His smile was wide.

Butter slapped away Fatman’s hand. He went to stand next to Lil Nut, who wasn’t paying attention to their little game.

Suddenly they heard sirens approaching at a fast pace. The three of them looked in the direction of the sirens. Four patrol cars came blaring past them. The police cars were driving so fast that the red and blue lights were just a blur as the cars sped past them.

“I bet you they going to Howard,” Fatman said, looking up the street.

“Ain’t nothing new,” Lil Nut said.

A car pulled over to the curb where they where standing.

“Yo, y’all holding out here?” the passenger asked.

“What you looking for?” Butter asked.

“Nicks, or whatever,” the man said, hanging partially out of the window.

“How many you want?” Butter asked and walked over to the car.

After serving the man he walked back over to the other two. “Yo, my man just told me that there was a raid at Howard.”

“Word?” Fatman asked.

“Yeah, he said everybody got knocked. He said by the time 5-0 finishes, Howard’s gonna be bone dry.”

“More business for us,” was all Lil Nut said before walking off.

Butter and Fatman both shrugged their shoulders and followed him.

As they walked Butter realized they were headed toward Howard projects. Butter looked over at Fatman, and as they made eye contact Butter could tell Fatman was thinking what he was thinking.

“Nut, man, I know we ain’t ’bout to step up in Howard?” Butter asked.

“Naw, we just gonna go ear hustle and see what we can find out,” he said solemnly.

“What are you tryna find out?” Butter wanted to know.

“Nut, man, we all dirty as hell. That would be suicide to roll up in there,” Fatman added.

Lil Nut looked back at the both of them and turned his head back, shaking it as a mother would do when she was disappointed in her child.

“What?” Butter asked, confused.

“What would y’all do if I wasn’t around? Y’all gotta keep ya ears to the streets. If I didn’t do the things the way I do ’em, we wouldn’t even be out here right now. We would be locked up or something. I listen and I watch so that I can stay two steps ahead of these motherfuckers. Feel me?”

“Yeah,” Fatman said.

“Word,” Butter said, feeling like a fool because he should have known better.

As the trio walked, a horn honked across the street. They all looked over and saw the yellow Vega that Skinny Lorene was in days prior.

The man stuck his hand out of the window, waving for someone to come to him. He pulled the car over to the curb.

They stopped and looked in the direction of the car. The driver beckoned with his hand again. The three of them still didn’t know which one he wanted since he didn’t say a name. Fatman pointed to Butter, who was standing next to him. “Him?” he asked.

“No, the other one,” he yelled, pointing to Lil Nut.

Lil Nut stood there, not saying a word. He was trying to see if his aunt was in the car, but she wasn’t. The man blew the horn again and waved.

“You want me to get him?” Fatman asked, sensing that Lil Nut didn’t want to serve the man.

They knew that this was the same car that Skinny Lorene was in the previous night. Fatman also knew that Lil Nut was very particular about who he served. He left that up to the crew most of the time.

“Naw, I got this one,” Lil Nut said and stepped off the curb. For some reason he wanted to see the man up close and personal.

He waited patiently until the several cars traveling down Rockaway drove past. Butter and Fatman followed Lil Nut across the street.

Lil Nut walked onto the sidewalk and over to the passenger side of the car. The window was rolled down. The white man leaned over to the passenger side and reached for the handle of the door to open it for Lil Nut to get in.

“Yo, I ain’t getting in. What’s up? Whatchu’ want?” Lil Nut asked the man.

“I want to cop a little something, my man.” The man tried to sound down.

Lil Nut was bent over at the waist with his hands in his pockets, looking into the car.

There was silence for a few moments while the two held eye contact before Lil Nut spoke again.

“Hold up,” he said.

Fatman and Butter were standing back in the cut, waiting on Lil Nut. He walked over to them.

“Come on,” he said, walking away from the car.

The white man in the car craned his neck to see where they were going. The three of them stepped out of sight just on the side of the building.

“What’s up?” both Fatman and Butter asked Nut once they were on the side of the building.

“Yo, he wanna cop, and I ain’t feelin’ him,” Lil Nut explained.

“What, you think he 5-0?” Butter asked.

“I dunno. There’s something about him. I’m just saying, I ain’t feelin’ him, and y’all know how I get down.”

“Yeah, we do,” they both chimed in.

“So what you wanna do? You want me to serve him? I mean I served him before, and ain’t nothing happen. I don’t think he po-po,” Fatman said.

“That’s on you. I ain’t serving him.” Lil Nut walked back around to the front of the building.

“Fuck it. I’ll serve him,” Fatman said and shrugged his shoulders.

“How much you want, man?” Fatman asked when he walked up to the car.

Lil Nut and Butter had walked several feet away from the car, waiting for Fatman to finish the transaction.

“Let me get eight jumbos,” he said to Fatman, but kept his eyes focused on Lil Nut.

“A’ight, hold up.” He dug in his pocket and pulled out a small Ziploc sandwich bag containing crack vials. Fatman got down in a squatting position next to the car so that none of the passing cars could see the transaction. He counted out eight vials and then stood. He placed the bag back into his pants pocket and stepped forward to the passenger’s side window. He leaned on the windowsill of the door, resting his elbows on the sill. His hands dangled inside the car.

The man handed him eight ten-dollar bills and Fatman dropped the eight vials onto the passenger seat. He then stepped back from the car, smoothly shoving the money into his pocket.

“Good looking out,” the man said before pulling off.

He honked the horn at Lil Nut as he drove past. Lil Nut just watched as the car drove past.

Fatman walked over to where Butter and Lil Nut were standing.

“What’s up?” Butter asked. “Everything a’ight?”

“Yeah, it’s cool,” Fatman said.

The three of them walked off.

Once they reached Howard, they agreed that their customer was right. It looked like a raid or the biggest heist of the century. There were at least fifty police cars and seventy police officers in and around the projects. There were several paddy wagons and some were already loaded. The three friends stood in a crowd of onlookers and watched the scene play out.

After fifteen minutes or so of this, Lil Nut had enough.

“Let’s break out,” he told his boys.

Lil Nut gave Butter and Fatman a pound as they left him and walked to their homes. It was well after one am. He kept his hands in his pockets while he walked toward the entrance of the projects. If the police stopped him at that moment he would’ve gone to jail for a long time. He was holding all the money from the sales of that day, and the remaining drugs that were left.

Nearing the projects’ entrance, Lil Nut saw the yellow Vega when it bent the corner after he walked across the street. He could see the car in his peripheral vision. Before he could turn into the project entrance, the yellow Vega pulled up and honked the horn to get his attention. He stopped and turned around, but before he could make a move to go over to the car, one of the local residents that had been standing around with some of his friends called out to him.

“Nut!”

Nut turned around to look at the man who called him.

“Yo, c’mere right quick,” the man said.

Lil Nut threw up an index finger to let the yellow car know he would be with him in a minute.

“What’s up?” Lil Nut asked the man who had called him, shaking his hand.

“What’s good, baby boy?” Skip asked.

Lil Nut gave a pound to the other two men that stood with Skip.

The three of them were much older than Lil Nut, and they were the muscle of another drug lord. They also sold drugs for the kingpin.

“Yo, who that cat?” Skip wanted to know.

“This cat that cops from me,” Lil Nut answered.

“What, he followed you home or something? I know you not selling outta these projects?” Skip asked, reminding Lil Nut that the crew he worked for had that particular project on lock, which meant that no one other than anyone from their team could set up shop there.

“Naw, I ain’t clocking outta here,” Lil Nut told them.

“I seen that honky somewhere before, but I can’t think where,” Skip said, staring at the car.

“Yeah, me too,” one of the other men chimed in, staring down the man.

The four of them stood there staring at the car before Lil Nut spoke.

“Let me go see what he wants.”

“Yo, Nut, man, I ain’t feelin’ no good vibes from that cat. Tell him to step, ’cause ain’t nothing here,” Skip ordered him.

Although Lil Nut wasn’t down with their crew, he grew up there and was known in those projects. In fact, the older heads looked out for him and respected his hustle, just as long as he wasn’t hustling on their territory.

“Yeah a’ight,” Lil Nut said, walking off.

As he walked to the car he looked over his shoulder, back at Skip and his crew, and as he suspected, they were watching him.

He walked onto the sidewalk to the passenger’s side of the car and leaned down, looking into the car.

“What’s up, my friend?” the man asked and smiled at Lil Nut.

“What’s up? Yo, seriously, why you come ’round here?”

“I need to score some more drugs. You got the best shit in town, and I wanted what you got. I need ten this time.”

Lil Nut just continued to stare at the man.

“You don’t be with my aunt anymore?” he asked out of nowhere.

“I haven’t seen her in a while. I came here with her one time before to score. In fact, that was the last time I’ve seen her, Lil Nut,” he said, smiling.

“You don’t know me like that to call me by my name,” Lil Nut told him seriously, getting angered because he knew no one but his aunt could have told this man his name.

“My bad.” The man held up his hands. “My name is Danny.” He held out his hand for a shake. Lil Nut just looked at Danny’s hand as it was suspended in mid-air.

“OK, I understand,” Danny said and placed his hand back on his lap. “Can I score?”

“Naw, I ain’t got nothing.”

“Come on, Lil Nut. Hook a brother up,” Danny said in his best b-boy talk.

Lil Nut frowned. “You need to watch your back riding around here in this loud ass-colored car. You might get jacked. I ain’t fuckin’ with you, man,” he said.

“Come on, man, just sell me the ten and I won’t come back tonight.”

Lil Nut looked up over the top of the car at Skip and his boys. They were still watching.

“Naw, man, I ain’t got nothing,” he said to the man and stepped back a few steps away from the car.

“Aw, come on, Nut, I need to get the ten. Listen, I’ll tell you what. Let me get twenty and I definitely won’t come back,” the white man said in a last desperate attempt.

“I’ll get up with you tomorrow,” Lil Nut said and stepped around the back of the car to cross the street.

“Oh, that’s how you gonna do me, Lil Nut?” Danny yelled out the window after him. “As much money I done spent with you, you gonna play me out like that?” Danny asked, calling him out in front of Skip and his crew.

Lil Nut kept walking. He became angrier as he listened to Danny yell out after him. Crackheads, he thought.

“Yo, bounce!” Skip yelled to Danny.

“Yeah, you better roll the fuck up outta here, motherfucker, before you get your shit split!” one of Skip’s boys warned.

“I’m tryna do business with my man, Nut,” Danny yelled back at them.

“Nut don’t do that kinda business, so bounce,” Skip said, now walking toward the streets.

“Yeah, what the fuck you think this is? This here is a clean neighborhood. Don’t none of that shit go on here,” another of Skip’s boys said.

“So I guess you three are on neighborhood watch, huh?” Danny asked with a smirk on his face.

“Yeah. Why, you got a problem with that?” Skip asked. Skip and his two boys began to cross the street and approach the Vega just as Danny slammed his foot on the gas pedal.

The Vega coughed first before jerking forward and peeling out.

***

It was about eleven am the next day when Lil Nut walked out of his building. He began the walk through the courtyard on his way to the store to get the daily newspaper. He was scheduled to meet up with Butter and Fatman at about one o’clock.

As soon as he stepped foot through the entrance of the projects about ten unmarked and marked cop cars came screeching up in front of the building. They pulled their cars up in different directions, having no concern for the cars that were traveling down the street. Several cop cars actually drove into the projects.

“Freeze!” several of the cops yelled.

Lil Nut stood there for a moment looking at the chaos surrounding him. He was thrown to the ground with other people that happened to be passing by. Everyone got searched. The paddy wagon pulled up and the officers began to load it with anyone that they caught with paraphernalia. Lil Nut watched as the officers brought Skip and his crew out in cuffs and loaded them into the wagon as well.

Lil Nut was searched and they found nothing. “This one’s clean,” the officer that searched him told a cop, who looked to be in charge of the bust.

“Let him go,” he told the officer as he walked back into the projects.

Lil Nut went on his way to the store. Once there he stopped at the payphone and paged Butter. When Butter finally called him back he told Butter to meet him in front of the Tilden projects. Then he called Fatman and told him that he and Butter would be there shortly.

Twenty minutes later the three of them were talking about the raid.

“These motherfuckers is going crazy. First Howard and now Langston,” Butter said.

“I’m sayin’. Word up,” Fatman concluded.

“Somebody talking,” Lil Nut said.

“You think so?” Fatman asked.

“Word up. Just look at how they know exactly when to hit and what apartments to hit.” Lil Nut looked at the two of them before continuing. “Them niggas be clocking outta they sets. That’s how they know where to hit at.”

Both Butter and Fatman stood there listening intently.

“You see why I don’t serve outta Langston. I always take that shit away from where I rest at. That’s why I tell y’all niggas don’t serve nobody from y’all’s cribs either.”

“Word,” Butter said in a low tone, now realizing why Lil Nut had always told them that in the past.

Fatman became uneasy. “Yo, I served Sticky and that cat that beat me outta my shit in front of my projects.”

“Word, that’s right,” Butter said. “Yo, where ya shit at?”

“I got it stashed at the crib in my room.”

“You gotta get that shit up outta there. They probably gonna hit Riverdale next,” Butter said.

“Naw, they gonna hit Tilden next,” Lil Nut said.

“Well I’m good then,” Butter said. “I gave you all I had left yesterday,” he told Lil Nut.

“I’ma go get my shit and bring it to you, Nut,” Fatman said, getting off the bench.

“Yo, chill. They ain’t gonna do nothing now, ’cause they gotta get paperwork and all that shit together first,” Lil Nut said. “You still got time. I need to go back to Langston to see what’s going on. Let’s be out.”

Butter followed behind Nut, but Fatman was feeling some kind of a way. He wanted to get rid of the drugs first to ease his mind. He was scared, and he didn’t want the others to know that he was. Reluctantly he followed them.

As they approached Langston housing projects, they could see the aftermath of the raid. Garbage cans were turned over and garbage was everywhere. People were still standing around talking about the raid.

“They got all them drug dealers,” one lady said.

“I’m glad. Good for they asses!” another woman added.

“Yeah, it’s about time. Kids play out here and they don’t care. You think they wouldn’t want the kids to see that kinda shit. But nooo!”

“I know that’s right, girl! These niggas don’t have any home training.” She laughed, and the two women gave each other a high five.

The crew walked right past the cackling women and into the building that Lil Nut lived in. Once inside his apartment, they went straight to his room. Butter plopped onto the bed and Fatman leaned up against the wall next to a poster of Chuck D from Public Enemy.

Lil Nut leaned against his dresser. He noticed the worried look on Fatman’s face.

“What’s up, Fatman?” he asked him.

“I’m good,” Fatman said, looking down at the floor.

“I think we need to chill for a minute till I can find out what’s up out there,” Lil Nut told them.

He wanted to wait until things died down before they continued with their business.

“I’m thirsty,” Fatman said, expressing no interest in what Lil Nut was talking about. He walked out of the room and into the kitchen to get something to drink.

“What’s up with that guy?” Butter asked Lil Nut.

Before Lil Nut could respond, a loud bang sounded. He and Butter jumped to their feet and ran out of the room. When they ran into the living room, they saw Fatman on the floor, face down, being handcuffed. Three officers tackled Butter and Lil Nut, slamming them to the floor.

After being cuffed, Lil Nut watched as the team of cops ransacked his mother’s apartment. He knew she was going to have a fit when she got home. As the police searched the apartment, two officers left to take the boys down to central booking.

Twenty minutes later the police were done with their search.

“What we got?” the officer in charge asked.

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“Yeah, absolutely nothing. The place is clean,” the young officer said before walking out of the apartment.

***

Lil Nut sat in central booking, handcuffed to a table.

The door to the interrogation room opened and in walked Danny, the white guy with the yellow Vega.

A smirk came across Lil Nut’s face.

“What’s up, Nut? I’m Detective Delveccio,” he said, taking a seat in front of Lil Nut. “So where the shit at, Nut?”

Lil Nut didn’t say a word. He continued to ice grill the detective.

“I know you the brains behind ya little crew, Nut. So where the drugs at?” Detective Delveccio asked again.

But Lil Nut sat in silence. He knew the code of the streets.

“Your boy Fatman is gonna go down for a long time. He sold to me, an undercover officer.”

Lil Nut still remained silent.

“Oh, yeah, your boy Butter is in there singing like a canary. He said you the brains behind it all. He said you the one who gives the orders. He says it’s all you.” The detective pointed to Lil Nut.

But Lil Nut knew better. He knew his boys wouldn’t sell him out. Or at least that’s what he thought.

Truth be told, the detective was just toying with his mind. Lil Nut was correct in thinking that his friends wouldn’t rat him out. The detective was reaching, reaching for anything to get Lil Nut.

“I’m clean. You got nothing on me,” Lil Nut said with confidence.

“Oh, but I do, young man,” the detective lied. “You know Lorene Bolden, don’t you? Oh, yeah.” He laughed. “How could I forget. She’s your aunt, right?”

Lil Nut continued to mean mug the detective.

“Yeah, she copped from you that night, right?” the detective asked.

“Did you see her cop from me?” Lil Nut asked.

“No, but she confirmed it when she came back and got in the car with me.”

“That’s hearsay,” Lil Nut said.

“Hearsay my ass. She copped from you, and you know it.” Detective Delveccio was getting annoyed with Lil Nut’s smart mouth.

Lil Nut just smiled at the detective, realizing he was getting under his skin.

“Where she at? If she can testify to that, then you got yourself a case, detective.”

Pissed was an understatement for what Detective Delveccio was starting to feel about Lil Nut. He had been trying to find Skinny Lorene and couldn’t. He was going to use her to testify not only against Lil Nut, but several other dealers. But she had come up missing, so he got out there on his own, hoping the dealers would trust him and still sell to him without her. Most of them did, but Lil Nut never sold to him directly. Without his boys or Skinny Lorene testifying against Lil Nut, the detective knew he would have to let him go.

Detective Delveccio stood as calmly as possible and left the room. One hour later a uniformed police officer stepped into the room. He unlocked the handcuffs from around Lil Nut’s wrists.

“You’re free to go,” he told Lil Nut.

Five minutes later Lil Nut walked out of the precinct a free young man. But the same could not be said for Fatman. Fatman had sold to an undercover officer, and drugs were found in his room at home. He would do five years in jail. Butter was released and met up with Lil Nut at Langston a little while later.

“That’s fucked up what happened to Fatman,” Butter said. He and Fatman were close.

“Yeah, it is, but I told y’all cats before don’t sell where you rest at,” Lil Nut said plain and simple, realizing he needed to take his own advice more often.

He had gotten away this time, but what would happen the next time?