7

“. . . keep your family and business completely separated. Money and blood don’t mix like two dicks and no bitch, find yourself in serious shit.”

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

1990

It was surprising how just a few months of steady hustling in the crack game could get the crew back on their feet. Lil Nut began to take things more seriously and wanted to treat the crack game like a business. Yes, he’d always wanted to get money and took that seriously, but now he wanted his hard work to sustain. He’d seen niggas getting locked up and getting sentenced to football numbers—double digits—on drug charges. And he’d also seen motherfuckers getting murdered over this here crack game. In fact, he’d rocked to sleep more than his share of niggas, and he was just approaching his twenty-first birthday.

Lil Nut stood in his boxers looking out the window of his project apartment. Melissa, his new girlfriend, was sound asleep in his bed, and his mother was in the kitchen making breakfast and gossiping on the phone with her sister, Mary. Lil Nut thought about his future, and then reflected on his past—his friends, enemies, and most of all his pops. He sure did miss him.

He walked into the kitchen and gave his mother a kiss on her cheek. She looked up, smiled, and pointed toward the food on the stove.

“Hold on a minute,” Julie said to Mary. “Nelson, go ahead and make you and Melissa a plate for breakfast.”

Lil Nut looked at the bacon, eggs, and grits and smiled. He loved his mother. He watched her on the phone and noticed that her hair was graying and she’d put on some weight over the past couple of years. He wondered if she was happy living without her husband. Lil Nut tried to give his mother all the amenities to keep her occupied while she stayed cooped up in the house each day. Her most prized possession was her fifty-two-inch color television. Starting from noon until four o’clock she watched her soap operas, Court TV, and then primetime sitcoms.

“Ma, hang up the phone. Tell auntie that you’ll call her back. I need to talk.”

Julie didn’t hesitate to please her son. “Mary, I’ll call you back later. I need to talk with my son.”

Lil Nut fixed a plate and sat at the table next to his mom. A lot of thoughts had been running through his head for a while, and he wanted to share them with her.

“Ma, I want to get us up out of here, move us somewhere nice where we don’t have roaches crawling up and down our walls, and motherfuckers pissing in the elevators. Whatchu think about that?”

Julie thought for a moment before responding. “Nelson, I’ve lived in Brownsville all my life, and I would love to get out. But my eyes have seen more than I would wish on anyone. Now my daddy was a number runner, and back in the sixties he was the man. When I was nine years old he moved me and your grandmother out of our rent stabilized apartment and bought us a house over on State Street. We didn’t live in that house for more than two years before Daddy couldn’t make the mortgage payments, and we were evicted. Nelson, I’m too old to be evicted from anybody else’s property.”

“Ma, running numbers is old school. The type of money I’m making is practically guaranteed money—”

“There ain’t no such thing when it’s illegal tender.”

“You mean to tell me you think that there won’t always be crackheads?”

“Of course there will be, but your slot ain’t always guaranteed. There are too many pitfalls out here lurking around. You got little young boys trying to make a name for themselves that might want to try and take you out. You got stickup kids, five-oh, and snitches. How you gonna keep beating those odds? That’s why I keep telling you to save up enough money and then open up a legit business.”

“Ma, I hear you, and that ain’t gonna be me. I’m not one of these knuckleheads out here—”

“Oh really?” she interrupted. “That’s why you got a twenty-thousand-dollar car parked outside the projects? You don’t think that was a knucklehead move? Your father is probably turning in his grave.”

Julie was disgusted when Lil Nut went up on Northern Boulevard in Queens and dropped twenty-one thousand dollars in cash on a used Mercedes Benz 190E 500. She knew that he was making one of the ultimate mistakes young drug hustlers made, and she feared that his actions were already setting the stage to either get him noticed by the police, or murdered by the competition. His foolishness was the main reason she wasn’t leaving her apartment. With or without her son, she knew that she’d always be able to afford this roof over her head.

“It ain’t even that serious. You know how badly I’ve wanted a Benz. I’ve been working hard toward this for six years. You telling me that I can’t reward myself? I’m supposed to just keep using my bread to make other motherfuckers happy? I didn’t see you telling me to invest my dough in a business when I came through with your new TV. I spent three gees on that. I didn’t hear you complaining that the money could have went to something else when I copped you that mink coat for Christmas. Did you?” Lil Nut accused. He felt that his mother was being hypocritical, and he wasn’t above calling her out.

Julie shook her head. “I know I didn’t raise a dumb nigga, but that’s exactly what you sound like. In all your years of slinging that drug, the same drug that destroyed our family, I ain’t ever asked you for shit!”

Lil Nut looked at his mother incredulously. “Are you fucking kidding me? That’s all the fuck you ever did. You had me paying our rent when I was just a little young dude of fifteen. What the fuck you call that?”

Julie refused to take her mind there, so she found it easier to call her son a liar.

“Look, you better get outta my face with all your lies. In fact, you and your bitch can get the fuck outta my house. My name is on that lease, and my name alone!”

“Oh, you think you really saying something? A’ight, bet. You think I won’t jet and be out?” Lil Nut brushed past his mother, went straight to his bedroom, and woke up Melissa. He shook her forcefully, startling the sleeping beauty. “Yo, wake up. I need you to go to a Realtor and find us an apartment.”

Yawning, she replied, “What? What’s going on?”

Lil Nut was already pulling thousands of dollars from one of his stashes. This was his pocket money. He tossed five thousand dollars at Melissa and repeated his wishes. “I want you to go to a Realtor and find us an apartment. I want something plush in a residential neighborhood, and I don’t want no roaches! And you better make sure my name is on that motherfucking lease.”

***

Six weeks later Lil Nut and Melissa were renting the ground floor apartment of a Cobble Hill, Brooklyn brownstone that didn’t have any roaches. He was a little pissed that the landlord wouldn’t allow his name to be on the lease because he didn’t have any credit, but it was all good. The living room even had a working fireplace, plush carpet throughout the two-bedroom apartment, and ceramic tiled floor in the compact kitchen. It was more than they both could have imagined. His tricked out Benz didn’t stand out like a diamond in a minefield on these streets. The tree-lined block was filled with high-end luxury cars. Lil Nut felt like he had finally arrived.

When the couple finally got the keys to their apartment they didn’t have a stitch of furniture, so they made love in front of the fireplace on the plush carpet. When they awoke in the morning Lil Nut gave Melissa five thousand dollars and told her to get busy shopping for furniture. Meanwhile, he had work to do.

Back around the way Lil Nut stood politicking with Butter and his cousin, who everyone called Peter Piper. Peter was Skinny Lorene’s son, and he was a thorn in Lil Nut’s side because he was always begging, just like his mother.

Butter and Lil Nut had their cars parked in the lot of Howard projects with Ice Cube’s new album, AmeriKKKa’s Most Wanted, blaring from Butter’s Beamer. Slowly the west coast was taking over the rap scene with their explicit gangsta lyrics. The three began a friendly game of dice.

Lil Nut blew inside his hand that held the dice and giggled.

“Blah-ow,” he yelled and then rolled a six and a four. “Yo, y’all gotta come through and see my crib.”

“Yeah, I heard you up and moved out, leaving Auntie Julie upset. Why you had to go and do her like that?” Peter Piper asked.

“Nah, she was beefin’ and shit. You know I don’t like all that arguing and shit. She was trying to make a nigga feel low, like I wasn’t shit. So I figured I could show her better than I could tell her.”

“I feel you,” Peter Piper replied as he picked up the dice.

“Yo, I’ve been meaning to tell you about this nigga I met at the rink the other night,” Butter began.

“What rink? Empire Skating Rink?” Lil Nut asked.

“Nah, the rink in New Jersey. That shit was nothing like Empire. You know when you walk in Empire you see around-the-way girls and the same old head hunters ready to snatch your chain. We gotta keep our gat close by just to get our skate on. But with the rink in Jersey you look out and see a sea of beauties. I swear each girl in there has long hair touching her butt. I mean real hair, long and silky, and they wear the tightest jeans as their hips be swaying from side to side.” Butter began demonstrating their movements and they all burst out laughing. He continued. “But what I like most about the rink is that all the dudes in there holding serious paper and making serious moves. You know real recognize real.”

“You know those Newark niggas on some real grimy shit too,” Peter said. “They just as bad as us Brooklyn cats.”

“You ain’t listening. It’s none of that bullshit in there. Those ain’t Newark niggas. Those niggas are from Harlem.”

“Harlem?” Peter Piper asked.

“Yeah. When you pull up in the parking lot all you see are Mercedes, Lexuses, Beamers, you name it. And all those niggas in there are about getting money. So I was talking to this nigga named Remy, and he was peeping my style. He know I’m from Brooklyn, and he was saying that not many of them niggas in there would want to fuck with me because we’re known for that grimy shit, but he got a connect in D.C. that could get us that powder white for a low number.”

Lil Nut was furious. Butter was going against the grain fucking with an outsider. Lil Nut was a creature of habit, and he didn’t like no other boroughs, because each borough had their own code. He was a thoroughbred from Brooklyn, and he didn’t trust no niggas from Harlem.

“What the fuck you doing discussing our operation with other motherfuckers?” Lil Nut yelled. “I hope you didn’t think I would be OK with that?”

“Damn, Nut. What the fuck is up with you?” Peter piped in.

Nut’s head swung around to face his cousin. “Who the fuck was talking to you? Your bum ass don’t have a pot to piss in, nor a window to throw it out of. You don’t even have an operation to discuss!”

Peter gritted his teeth to keep from responding to his cousin’s disrespect. He knew that his cousin was a hot head, and Peter wasn’t built to go to war with him. Butter finally decided to squash the situation.

“Nut, man, sometimes you got to listen and just see where I’m going with this. You know those uptown cats get paper. And you know we get paper too. But we both said that we wanted to start pushing weight, ’cause that’s where the real paper is at. I don’t want to be out here hustling when I’m thirty. At that age I want to be married and chillin’ in a big ole house without a worry in the world, talking shit about how I beat the game and the game didn’t beat me. But just eating off our little runners ain’t gonna cut it. It might take us a week to pull in five gees. We could make five gees off each brick, and move ten bricks a week.”

Lil Nut thought about Butter’s logic and was a little pissed that he didn’t think of it himself. He decided to ignore his gut feelings about those Harlem niggas and take a chance on Butter and his newfound friend. Lil Nut had a lot to prove to his mother. He wanted to show her that he wasn’t just an airhead, and could make enough money to legitimize his business. Nut decided that once he made five hundred thousand in the crack game, he would retire.

“So you trust this motherfucker?” Nut asked.

“Hell, yeah. He seems solid. And he’s heard of you too. So that means he knows you ain’t no joke, so if he ever tried any funny shit, he knows he’d have to look over his shoulder night and day, and I know he ain’t built like that.”

Lil Nut was flattered that his name was ringing bells, but he also knew that those uptown cats were just as ruthless as he was. They’d cut up a nigga and leave him in pieces over that paper. Harlem had their fair share of murders that were getting news coverage, just as much as Brooklyn. Just last week the streets began buzzing about a rich Harlem nigga who had murdered his best friend over that paper. Everyone thought that nigga was foul to kill his peeps like that, but Lil Nut understood his logic. He’d already murdered three of his friends.

“Fall back from that Remy for a while and let me think on him. I’ll let you know my thoughts on whether we should fuck with him or not. Meanwhile, we still got a business to run. Shit, I got bills to pay. My rent so high you’d think I was paying mortgage.”

“Speaking of business, cuz, I was wondering if you could put a nigga on and give me some responsibilities so that I could make some paper,” Peter said.

“Nah, you can’t work for me.” Lil Nut didn’t mince his words. His father told him many years ago to keep his business separated from his family.

“Why?”

“No reason.”

“No reason?”

“Why you looking at me all stupid?” Nut asked.

“Because it’s not like I’m asking for a handout. I’m asking to work for mines. And since you fam and you already got your organization set up, I want to know why I can’t eat too?”

Lil Nut had had enough bickering for one day. He pointed his finger in Peter Piper’s face and yelled, “Nigga, you wanna eat, then make your own plate. I built this here and I run it the way I fuckin’ want.”

Lil Nut didn’t stay around long enough to hear Peter Piper gripe. He hopped into his Benz, revved the engine, and skidded his tires as he sped away. The hood loved a good car screech, and Lil Nut and his crew never failed to disappoint.

Lil Nut casually walked into his apartment after what he called a hard day at work. Melissa was in the back room with their bed covered in books. This was her second year in college, and she was studying to be a child psychologist. Lil Nut figured that with all those books she was reading, she could shed some light on his street dilemmas. But she couldn’t. When it came down to his business, all she managed to do was make him paranoid.

“I see you didn’t get a chance to clean up or cook,” he said.

Melissa hardly looked up from her books. She gave him a glance and then replied, “No, I was busy.”

Lil Nut tossed his baseball cap onto the bed, just inches from her notes. Again she glanced up and then cut her eyes at him. For some reason her actions irritated him. He decided to pluck her nerves by pushing her buttons.

“Melissa, get up!” he demanded. “A nigga out working hard all day to provide you with a roof over ya head, and the least you could do is fix me a fucking plate of food and clean the fuck up this messy-ass house. Damn, what I gotta do? Replace you?”

His words stung. Lil Nut didn’t know how to sensor himself. Melissa jumped to her feet and began grabbing all of her books off the bed and shoving them into her book bag. Frantically she ran around, pushing past Lil Nut in an attempt to clean up the apartment. The last thing she wanted was to be replaced. She had a crackhead mother and no father she knew of, so her future without Lil Nut was bleak. Tears slid down her high cheekbones because her feelings were truly hurt.

Lil Nut hopped on the same bed she’d just gotten off of and kicked off his sneakers. He watched her for a while, in amusement, until his conscience got the best of him. He realized that he was treating the two women that meant the most to him in the world cruelly. He decided to make up.

He got up and began to help her out by washing the dishes. Still the house was quiet, because Melissa refused to talk.

“How you doing in school?” he asked.

Melissa hesitated for a moment because she really didn’t feel like talking, but she responded anyway.

“I’m doing good.”

“Oh, yeah? What you got on your last test?”

“Which one?”

“Anyone. I don’t know. Fuck it. All of them.”

“I’ve been getting mostly Bs and a few As.”

“You can’t get all As?”

She wanted to reply that if he gave her a chance to study, she could, but instead she said, “I guess I could. I just got to study harder.”

Lil Nut liked that answer. Melissa was a good girl. She didn’t know it, but that response was going to earn her a car. She needed a car anyway to get to and from school. Most times he gave her cab money or dropped her off, and then she’d take the train back home. But his girl shouldn’t have to be taking the train. Besides, he was hearing about how mad Queens and Harlem niggas were buying their girls cars. Shit, those Harlem niggas were buying chicks cars when they reached their sixteenth birthday. Melissa was twenty. Yeah, he’d go and get her something this week.

“Yo, tomorrow I was thinking about inviting Butter and them niggas over to see our crib. That’s why I wanted it to be clean.”

Melissa stopped cleaning. “Baby, I don’t think that’s wise.”

“What’s not wise?”

“I don’t think you should let anyone know where you rest your head at. That could be dangerous. Keep your street friends in the streets. Where you live should be your sanctuary. I’ve been seeing so many home invasions on the news lately. And you yourself have heard stories about stickup kids coming in and killing the whole household to get at the stash.”

“I don’t keep any real money here—”

“Then they’ll just kill us quicker,” she interrupted.

“Ain’t nobody dumb enough to try me. They know I will let my thing go in a heartbeat.”

“Baby, these people are good at catching you when you’re vulnerable. I don’t want us to make the evening news. Please, promise me that you won’t let anyone know where we live. And when you drive home you got to make sure you’re not being followed.”

“But Butter is my man! He wouldn’t try to do me dirty. I know where his moms lives!”

Melissa was aggravated. Lil Nut wasn’t hearing her at all. His bullheaded nature was so difficult to deal with. At that very moment she realized that as soon as she got on her feet she would leave him. Yes, she loved him, but she loved her life more.

“OK, Nut. As always, I guess you know best.”

Lil Nut grabbed her in a bear hug and gently kissed her on her neck. He felt her melt in his arms as her tension began to subside. “All right, I hear you. No company. You feel better?”

She nodded and smiled.

“And no more crying like a big baby. I didn’t even say anything to your ass, and you crying like a baby.”

***

Three days later as Melissa walked home from school she didn’t notice all the familiar cars parked outside her ground floor apartment. But she did hear an array of voices from inside as she put her key in the lock. Her heart began to palpitate. Her instincts told her to do an about face and run for her life. But then she heard a hearty, distinctive laugh, and knew that it was her man. Pushing open the front door, she was accosted by a cloud of weed, and a living room full of men. She peered into a sea of unfamiliar faces, and then at her knuckleheaded boyfriend. He had a Corona beer in one hand and a blunt in the other. She wondered when he’d begun smoking weed. Slowly Melissa began seeing Nut change before her eyes, and she didn’t like the man he was becoming. She understood that it was a new era and that he had a lot of pressure on his shoulders, but smoking weed to escape reality just wasn’t like the man she fell in love with. She decided that she’d have to have a heart-to-heart talk with him.

Anger shot through her body as she stood stone still from shock. It was ninety degrees outside and her idiot boyfriend was showing off by having the air conditioner up on full blast with a fire burning in the fireplace. The television was on mute, showing a basketball game, and bottles of beer and liquor littered the sitting area. She should have known not to trust him.

“Whaddup?” Lil Nut asked, acknowledging her.

She didn’t say a word. She just did a beeline directly for their bedroom, and slammed the door. As far as she was concerned, he’d just signed both their death certificates.

After most of the company left, Lil Nut, Butter, and Peter Piper sat around talking shit before the conversation turned to business. Once again Peter Piper tried to get on payroll.

“Motherfucker, do you think I talk just to be talking?” Nut asked. “I said hell motherfucking no!”

“A’ight, Nut. I ain’t gonna ask you no more.”

“Please do me that favor,” Lil Nut replied, antagonizing his cousin. Then he focused his energy on Butter. “So you saying that this kid Remy is where we can make a quick come up?”

“Word up. I think we should give him a chance, feel him out, and take our operation to the next level. If we want to make real bread, then we gotta move weight.”

Lil Nut nodded. “When the next time you gonna get up with him?”

“I’m going to the rink tomorrow night. You should come through and I’ll make the introduction.”

“OK, set it up.”

***

The next night Lil Nut realized that Butter didn’t exaggerate at all when he described the rink. When they pulled into the jammed packed parking lot, all he saw were high-end cars. It looked like a car show. He looked at some of the vehicles, and saw that pretty ladies were pushing the hot whips. He couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw this red-headed cutie pushing a 1990 Acura Legend four door! His eyes followed her as she parked, walked to her trunk, and pulled out a pair of custom skates—white with pink wheels. She then switched her sexy ass inside the roller derby. Lil Nut was amped. He was already having a good time, and the night hadn’t even started.

When he stepped out of his Mercedes Benz 190E 500, he looked down to make sure that his clothes were proper. Within the first five seconds he saw a lot of hotties, and he wasn’t leaving here tonight without a few new numbers. Butter and Peter Piper both rode in his car, and they were just as amped.

“See? What did I tell you?” Butter bragged. “These honeys are top of the line.”

“You ain’t never lie,” Lil Nut retorted.

The three men went inside and Butter and Peter Piper both got skates. Lil Nut didn’t skate, but he did like to watch. He wished that he was coordinated, but he just wasn’t. Instead he stood listening to the music and watching the hot dance moves and tricks being done on the floor.

Out of all the potential women, he couldn’t take his eyes off the sexy redhead. She was skating her ass off, and Lil Nut could tell that she was popular. She skated every song with a new dude. When she skated off the floor to go to the refreshment stand, Lil Nut was right there to greet her.

“What’s your name, shorty?” he asked.

The redhead looked Lil Nut up and down, and replied, “Well, it ain’t shorty. Let me get a Pepsi,” she told the woman behind the counter.

Sassy little bitch, Lil Nut thought. He knew the type. She thought that her shit didn’t stink. She was probably used to getting any nigga she wanted, and most likely she already had a dude. That was how she was pushing that Acura. Despite her miserable attitude, Lil Nut still wanted her.

“My bad. What’s your name, beautiful?”

Tossing her hair over her shoulder, she turned slightly to face him. She wanted to get a closer look at the stranger. She knew almost every person in that skating rink, and she knew he was new. She could tell that he was a dealer just from his gear alone. He was wearing a pair of new Nike sneakers, white-on-white, and a velour white Nike sweatsuit. But that was not what gave away his hustler status. The gold Rolex watch, and gold and diamond chain did that. He also had a certain swagger, a cockiness that said that he wasn’t broke. She decided to give him some play.

“My name is Ria.”

He smiled. “Ria, that’s a pretty name. You got a man, Ria?”

“I might.”

“Well, Ria, my name is Nut, and I’m going to take you from your man.”

Ria giggled. Obviously this guy didn’t have a clue.

“Do you know who my man is?” she asked. Without waiting for him to answer, she continued. “Because if you did, you would know that he pays the cost to be the boss.”

“Well how much I gotta pay to be your lieutenant?” Lil Nut joked and actually got Ria to smile. When the counter girl came with Ria’s Pepsi, Lil Nut reached in his pocket and pulled out a knot of money. Holding it just long enough for her eyes to see the hundred-dollars bills as he flipped to find a twenty, he paid for her soda and told the attendant to keep the change. Normally he wouldn’t have tipped her shit, but he was trying to make an impression. He did. Ria began opening up.

“Where you from?” she asked. “I’ve never seen you around here.”

“I’m from Brooklyn.”

“Oh, we’ve been getting a lot of guys from Brooklyn coming here lately. I hope it don’t get all wild and they have to shut it down.”

“You act like Brooklyn don’t have any class.”

“Don’t play innocent with me. Brooklyn is wild as shit.”

“And where you from?”

“Uptown.”

“And where your man from?”

“He’s from uptown too.”

“What’s his name?”

She hesitated before she replied, “Shue.”

Shue. Lil Nut had heard that name. It definitely rang bells. Word was Shue had a lot of paper. He was damn near a millionaire from what the streets were talking. He was twenty-four years old, and half black and half Chinese. From what Lil Nut had heard about the guy, he bought a large mansion somewhere on the low in New Jersey, and his chick lived with him. Shit. She was a tall glass to fill. Lil Nut wasn’t nowhere near on the level of her man. Well at least not yet.

Lil Nut’s eyes began to scan the room for Butter to see if he’d gotten up with Remy yet. Right on time he saw both figures walking toward him.

“Ria, I got some business to handle. You think I could get your number and call you some time?”

“Well I can’t give you my home phone number, because I live with my man, but I got a beeper. Beep me and I might call you back,” she said flirtingly.

Remy noticed the exchange between Ria and Nut, and he was less than thrilled, but he said nothing. Shue was his man, but he was on a paper chase. He was trying to get as many clients as possible to expand his drug operation. He needed niggas who was buying weight, and from what Remy had heard, these Brooklyn niggas were making it happen.

“Nut, this is Remy. Remy, Nut,” Butter introduced.

Both men exchanged a handshake before they moved to the side and began talking business.

“It’s like this, man,” Remy began, “I got a connect in D.C. that be giving me the lowest number around, and his shit be uncut and powder white. Right now he got a few clients in Oakland, California, B-More, Philly, Detroit, and New York. Through me he got uptown on lock. I want to expand and start fucking with Brooklyn, but not just any nigga in Brooklyn. That’s where Butter comes in. Y’all from Brooklyn, so y’all can maneuver and sell the product without taking the risk I would be taking. Y’all go through me, and then resell it to Brooklyn. Together we can all make a killing.”

Lil Nut was feeling Remy’s logic. He was on board with the plan.

That night when he went home he made love to Melissa, but he was thinking about Ria. First thing in the morning he was going to beep her. And he could only hope that she would beep him back.

***

Lil Nut finally had to break down and hire his cousin. Butter was in D.C. with Remy, and the girl they’d hired to drive down to D.C. and get the four kilos of cocaine had been put in the hospital by her baby’s daddy, who beat her ass after he found out she fucked his man. Lil Nut didn’t know who to be more angry with—the girl, or her man for putting his hands on her.

“Nut, I need you to get someone here as soon as possible,” Butter told him over the phone. “I’m sitting like a duck with four pies around a bunch of motherfuckers that I’m not really feeling. These D.C. niggas are ruthless. They calling this city the murder capital, and from watching the news each night, they ain’t lying.”

Lil Nut could hear the panic in his voice. He was doing all he could do to get someone fearless enough to drive from D.C. to New York with four kilos of cocaine. If he was less of a man, he would have asked Melissa.

“I gotchu, man. Just chill. Let me call you back.”

“A’ight, call me right back.”

Nut began pacing while thinking, and then, bingo! “You still want a job?” he asked Peter Piper as soon as he got him on the phone.

“Oh, no doubt. I thought you’d never ask.”

“How long will it take you to get to my house?”

“I’m dressed and could leave right now. It’ll take me forty minutes on the train. But if you pay for my cab, then I could be there in fifteen minutes.”

“A’ight, I got your cab money. Listen, is your license clean?”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s all good,” Peter Piper lied.

Just as he stated, Peter was there within fifteen minutes, and ready to work an unknown job. All he knew was that he needed the money.

“I need you to take the Camry, drive down to D.C., and meet Butter,” Nut explained.

“That’s all? I can do that.”

“Let me finish. You gotta drive down there, pick up four bricks, and get them back here safely.”

Peter Piper thought about the job. “How much?” he asked.

“You make five hundred off each brick.”

The prospect of receiving two thousand dollars just to drive was unbelievable to Peter. It sure beat standing on a corner doing hand-to-hand transactions. But Peter Piper needed to be sure he’d see the whole two grand. “Who pays for my gas and tolls?”

“I’ll cover all that.”

“What about my food?”

Nut was getting impatient with Peter’s pettiness. “Motherfucker, didn’t I just say I got all that?!”

“OK, I hear you. Then I’m yours. Anything you need, just tell me what I got to do.”

Lil Nut ran down the particulars and ended with a few warnings. “Make sure you do the speed limit. Don’t pull over for shit. Fill up the tank in New York. When you get to D.C., before you pick up the bricks, make sure you fill up again. As soon as you get back to New York, bring those joints straight here. Don’t do nothing stupid like drinking and driving. And if you do get pulled over, make sure you cut off the radio. Don’t be having no loud rap music blaring. Say, yes, sir and no, sir. Your reason for driving up and down I-95 is that you just dropped off your sister at college. You got me?”

“Piece of cake.”

Lil Nut called Butter back and told him to sit tight, that he was sending Peter Piper. Butter didn’t much care who he sent to pick up the bricks, just as long as he didn’t have to bring them home. He didn’t want no part in driving dirty through three states.

After Lil Nut got his business squared away, he decided to take care of Melissa. He told himself weeks back that he was going to buy her a car to get around in, and there wasn’t any time like the present. He knew his woman deserved a car, especially after he saw how big those chicks were doing it at the rink in Jersey.

So far he hadn’t caught up with the sexy Ria yet, and he was a little tired of her reindeer games. Each time he beeped her, she’d return his call, whispering. He couldn’t ever make out what she was saying, and each conversation only lasted a few minutes. He didn’t know if this was game she was playing, or if her man had her on lockdown like that. Shue. That pretty boy looking motherfucker had done good when he found Ria.

As he perused the car lot he was torn between getting Melissa a Honda Accord or a Maxima. The black Accord was somewhat standard looking, but the dealer kept telling him that Hondas were good cars. The burgundy Maxima with the beige leather seats and light tint on the windows seemed more feminine. Could the Maxima compare to Ria’s burgundy Acura Legend? Never. But it was a start.

Lil Nut drove off the lot after giving the dealer twelve thousand dollars in cash, and headed over to his mother’s house. He hadn’t gone to see her since he moved out, and he was sure she was missing him. The longest he’d ever been away from home was when he was shot up over his coat. Instinctively he fingered his chest, outlining his bullet wound. The night he got shot felt like many moons ago.

He pulled up in front of the housing project and things seemed different. He couldn’t believe that he once felt safe inside the low-income housing development. He was also surprised that no one had ever tried him in his neighborhood.

He hopped out of Melissa’s new ride and went upstairs. He could hear the loud blaring of the television as soon as he got off the elevator. He stuck his key in the door like he still lived there and walked inside.

“Ma?” he called.

“I’m in here,” she replied as she sat in the living room smoking a Newport. She was engrossed in General Hospital, but was equally excited to see her son. She knew it was only a matter of time before he came back around to see her. They were best friends.

He sat down and peered at the nonsense on the TV. “Whatchu been up to?”

“Oh, just taking it day by day. I went to church on Saturday. You know me, same routine.”

“That’s good. I’ve been busy making a few moves.”

“Like what?”

“Well, I bought Melissa a car, and I also hired Peter.”

That news was enough to make Julie click off the television and give Lil Nut her full attention. “You did what now?”

“I bought Melissa a car, and I hired Peter to make a few runs for me.”

She exhaled. “I sure wish you would have called me first.”

“Why?”

“Before you went and hired your cousin. His mother is a fuck-up, and the apple don’t fall far from the tree.”

“I hear you. You sound like Pops, but it was an emergency. From the rip I knew that hiring him was only temporary, and once he’s done with this run, I’m going to let him go.”

Julie inhaled deeply on her cigarette and then exhaled. “You know what? He ain’t gonna go quietly, and then I’m gonna have to hear Lorene’s mouth.”

“Tell her to call me and I’ll handle her.”

“Oh, I can handle her. I just don’t want to. Now tell me about this car you bought for Melissa. What did you get her?”

“I bought her a Maxima.”

“Just as I thought. You don’t love that girl. I mean, she’s smart and sweet, but you’re not in love with her, and the longer you keep her around, the more you’ll end up hurting her. Now I like Melissa, but what I like don’t matter. You need to turn that girl loose before you mess her up totally and make it hard for her to ever trust a man. She loves you. And no matter how much she’ll try to convince herself that she can live without you, she won’t want to. You gotta let her go and find you a trashy girl until you find the one.”

“Ma, what are you talking about? I’m starting to think you going crazy in your old age.”

“I ain’t crazy. I’m wise. Just wait and see that everything I’ve done told you will come true.”

“And you know all of this because I bought her a Maxima?”

“That’s exactly how I know.”

Lil Nut left his mother’s house a little while later, but not before leaving her one thousand dollars to go food shopping and pay her bills. It was always enlightening speaking with her, if not amusing.

***

Peter Piper was a sight for sore eyes. Butter had never been so happy to see someone in his life. He had to admit that although he was trying to play it cool, he was a little shook. All those niggas out there in D.C. were crew, and he felt like an outsider. Even though they seemed to welcome him with open arms, something just didn’t feel right. He decided that as soon as he went home he’d have a sit-down with Nut and tell him that he’d have to start riding down I-95 with him, because he needed a nigga to watch his back.

Butter had Peter Piper meet him at a mall in Woodbridge, Virginia, not too far from D.C. Once they made the exchange, Butter looked at Peter’s gas odometer.

“Yo, why you ain’t fill up before you came to meet me?”

“I wasn’t thinking about all that. All I was thinking about was meeting you.”

“Nah, it ain’t even your fault. Nut should have told you the ropes before you got on the road,” Butter replied.

“That nigga be slipping. He ain’t tell me shit,” Peter Piper lied. “All he care about is barking orders and his bitches.”

“That nigga be fucking up all the time. This shit could have cost us.” Butter had mad bass in his voice. Down in D.C., Butter was the boss, and it felt good to diss Nut for a change.

“You mean it could have cost me, but I’m straight. I’ma let it do what it do. I got this.” Peter wanted to seem like he had shit on lock, just in case he could get a quick promotion. He figured if he got on Butter’s good side, then perhaps he could guarantee Peter a job. “You the brains behind this here shit anyways.”

“True that,” Butter agreed, but decided to keep it short. He knew when somebody was gassing him up. Besides, he had something else on his mind that was fucking with him. “Yo, yesterday I was at this basketball game in D.C., and you know Rasun?”

“From Flatbush?”

“Yeah, kid. He got murdered yesterday in broad daylight in the middle of a basketball game. The kid walked right up to him and blew his brains out.”

“What? Get the fuck outta here. He’s dead?”

“Yeah, man,” Butter replied. “And it was a young kid too.”

“From where?”

“From D.C. I’m telling you, they don’t play out this motherfucker. That shit still got me shook.”

“Shook? You know it ain’t no shook hands in Brooklyn,” Peter Piper joked. “Don’t worry. With me by your side, I could always have your back down here, you know. All you gotta do is talk to my cousin.”

Butter thought about it for a moment, and then replied, “As soon as I get back up top, I’ll let him know what’s up. Be good, man, and drive safe. I’ll see you on the other side.”

Not only did Peter Piper get back on the highway without stopping for gas, he also wasn’t doing the speed limit. Peter was very absentminded. It didn’t take him long before he saw the flashing lights behind him as the flashing light on his gas tank began to blink. He was still in Virginia, just about to enter D.C.

He didn’t have any choice but to pull over.

The two state troopers sat in their patrol car for a long moment before they both got out to approach Peter Piper. Both walked cautiously toward the car with both their hands on their service revolvers. You could hear “Just Don’t Bite It” by N.W.A. blaring through the windows.

“Son, turn down that music and shut off your ignition!” the husky trooper demanded.

Peter quickly snapped to attention, clicked off his radio, and shut off his car. Suddenly his hands began to tremble.

“Yes, sir,” he replied. Suddenly Lil Nut’s instructions came gushing back. He watched as the troopers looked around in his empty backseat before delivering an arsenal of questions.

“Where are you coming from?”

“I, ummm . . . I’m coming from dropping off my sister at college.”

“College? License and registration, please,” the trooper replied. “Which college? Northern State?”

Peter Piper began searching for his license and the vehicle’s registration. “Yes, sir. Northern State. I graduated from there myself two years ago.”

Both troopers began to relax.

“Is that right?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And where are you from? New York?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Do you have any guns or narcotics in the car?”

“No, sir. I’ve never touched drugs or a gun in my life.”

“Could we check your car?”

Peter Piper swallowed hard. “Of course. Anything you want.”

By this time Peter had handed the trooper his license. He was defeated.

“Nah, that’s all right. I’ll take your word for it. You seem like a good man. If your license is clean”—the trooper waved the license up and down—“then I’ll let you off with a warning. But if you have any points, then I’m going to give you a ticket for speeding. Is that fair enough?”

“Ummm, can’t you just let me off now with a warning? I promise you my license is clean, and I was only speeding because I’m about to run out of gas. See?” Peter Piper pointed toward the light on his odometer. The trooper peered in and then looked at his partner. His partner shook his head.

“Nah, I still got to run your license. That’s protocol. But as I said, if it’s clean, then I’ll give you a break. I’m not a complete dick.”

Both troopers walked back to the car. Peter didn’t know how to handle the situation. One part of him wanted to bolt and jet down the highway, risking being shot in the back. The other part of him wanted to start the car and make a run for it, no gas and all. Ultimately he realized he wasn’t built for either escape, so he prayed that they would only come back and issue him a ticket, sending him on his merry way.

Again the troopers approached his vehicle, only this time their guns were no longer holstered. They were both pointing their guns directly at Peter’s head.

“Step out of the car and put your hands behind your head,” one trooper yelled.

“What? What did I do?” Peter asked, playing dumb.

“You’re driving on a suspended license. Get out of your vehicle and put your hands behind your fucking head!”

Peter’s body went slack. He had to be dragged out of the car, tossed to the ground, and then handcuffed.

“Check the trunk,” the trooper instructed his partner.

Within two minutes Peter heard, “Bingo! We need backup.”

Peter was thrown into the back of the police cruiser and then taunted.

“What were you going to do with all those drugs? How much street value is all that shit worth? You know you had me going with that no-sir-yes-sir bullshit.” The trooper let out a hearty laugh. “I think you just got me and my partner promoted.”

Peter Piper saw his life pass before his eyes. In a panic-laced voice, he replied, “I’m not who you want. I could tell you who the head nigga in charge is!”