by Erica Hilton
“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 ye
lled.
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.