10 Crack Commandments

by Erica Hilton

  “Ria? Why would you think she could get at me?”

  “Oh, I just thought y’all were cool, that’s all. But when you didn’t come to her wedding, I figured that I must have been bugging.”

  Now he was really miserable. “Yeah, you must’ve been bugging. But what’s up? What did you wanna holla at me about?”

  “That debt you owe.”

  “What debt?”

  “Peter took fifteen keys on consignment.”

  “OK, and? That’s Peter’s debt.”

  Remy looked at Nut like he was crazy. “Nah, kid, it don’t go like that—”

  “First off, I’m not your fucking kid—”

  “Excuse me, my bad,” Remy corrected. Although he was uptown in his neighborhood, he hadn’t expected to get into any beef. He was just passing through to get something to eat, and left his hammer in the car, but he was most certain that the Brooklyn kid was strapped, so he tried to calm things down.

  “No doubt,” Nut said. “As I was saying, I don’t do consignment. Ever. I stopped doing that credit shit when I was a little young nigga. Peter had the paper to pay you—”

  “It’s not me y’all owe. He went straight to the top and got those joints from Luis, and he used your name.”

  “So if this doesn’t concern you, motherfucker, why the fuck you all up in our business?” Nut went berserk. He began patting down Remy, checking for a wire. At this point he trusted no one. If his own cousin could do him dirty, anyone could, including his own momma. That’s exactly what his pops told him back in the day. And what made the matter worse, was that Nut hadn’t used Luis in years. Why would his name still be good for credit with him? “You wired, motherfucker? You working for the feds?”

  Remy was able to get Nut off of him and began copping a plea. “Nah, I’m not wired, man. You my man. I was just trying to look out. Niggas out here gunning for your head, and I was just trying to put you on.”

  Nut shook his head. Maybe he was out of order. But he knew that Remy took pleasure in spilling the beans about Ria and Shue getting married. And also delivering the news that Nut had a tab over his head.

  “Yo, how much that motherfucker saying I owe?”

  “Last I heard it was two hundred eighty-five thousand, plus ten gees a week until you pay the tab.”

  Nut hopped in his car and sped off. He wasn’t safe in those Harlem streets. He’d taken a loss for the money he gave Peter to buy those keys, and Peter didn’t even buy the fucking keys. He realized that Peter took his money and walked away with close to three hundred grand, and Nut still had to come up with another three hundred grand? How the fuck was he gonna do that? He figured that he must be the dumbest motherfucker walking around. Never in his imagination did he think that his cousin could pull something like this off right under his nose.

  Thinking that he’d hop on the West Side Highway and cut over to Chambers Street to make his way toward Brooklyn, Nut had a change of heart. He needed to go see Luis, face-to-face, and see if he could work out something. He knew that Luis had a lot of muscle, and neither he nor his moms was safe if Luis put a bounty over Nut’s head. Nut made a U-turn and headed back up top.

  When he arrived he was told to wait in the vestibule while Hector patted him down for weapons and two gunmen stood guard. After an intense stare down, Nut was allowed to walk through the narrow corridor to the spacious living room where Luis sat.

  “Amigo,” he sang. “So good to see you, no?”

  “Nah, not really.”

  “Whatsa matter?” he asked in his broken English.

  “Word out on the street that I owe you a lot of paper.”

  “Sí, true.” Luis nodded his head vigorously. “And you will pay me, no?”

  “I want to pay you, but it’s like this. I already paid for those pies. I gave the bread to my cousin Peter. I told you a long time ago that I didn’t want nothing else on credit.”

  “But he no pay me.”

  “Yeah, I heard all of that. But like I said, he took my dough, and now I got to pay his debt?”

  “No, not his debt, papi. Your debt. He come and use your name.”

  “But I never told him to do that. I wish you would have called me first before you gave him that product on consignment.”

  Luis waved his hands in dismissal. He didn’t care about Nut’s gripes, nor did he care to hear a grown man whine. The drug business was serious shit, and he had little patience for those who couldn’t keep up. Either you swam or you sank. End of story.

  “Me no make calls. I told you that your name was good here, no? He used your name. You have to be the general over your army.”

  Nut shook his head. He knew where Luis was coming from, but he still wanted to see if he could work out a deal. “I hear you. So check it. I wanted to know if we could work something out. I’m sure you heard what happened within my organization. Shit is a little tight right now—”

  Luis was insulted. He didn’t understand why the young fellow was still talking nonsense. He yelled, “I . . . don’t . . . make . . . deals! I make money. You have tree”—he put up three fat fingers even though he had slaughtered the word—“tree days to bring me my cash. All of it, or you will not make it to the fourth day. You understand me, no?”

  Nut understood perfectly well. He was fucked.

  ***

  The next day Nut went back uptown and dropped off sixty-five grand. It wasn’t anywhere near what he owed, but he wanted Luis to know that he was going to make good on his debt. At this point, Nut knew anyone could get touched, and he feared for his mother. Between lawyer fees and repaying this debt, Nut was almost tapped out. His crew had dismantled and he needed to recruit some new little soldiers so that he could start making that paper again. In the meantime, he still had a score to settle.

  He’d heard that this girl named Felicia that lived in Howard projects had gotten hired by the telephone company as a customer service representative. Once Nut heard that, a light bulb went off, and he put the word out that he was looking for her. He drove to her job on West Street and waited for her to come downstairs. Slowly she came switching toward his car all dressed up. She definitely wasn’t wearing business attire. She’d gotten dressed extra nice in hopes of snagging one of the most sought after ballers in her neighborhood.

  “Hi, Nut,” she sang.

  “What’s up, Felicia? You looking good.”

  Her grin stretched from ear to ear. “Thank you. My sister said that you wanted to speak to me in private, and that you was coming up here today to see me. What can I do for you? ’Cause I’m prepared to do anything you want.”

  Nut wanted to tell her to be easy. If she didn’t pour it on so thick, maybe she could have had a shot. “That’s what I like to hear,” he said instead, “so check it. I need you to get me a copy of all the calls from a particular number. I need the record log. Can you do that?”

  Felicia aimed to please. “That won’t be a problem.”

  “And if I find a particular number that interests me, could you get me an address?”

  “Yup. All that information is right there, but if it’s an out-of-town number, the address won’t show up.”

  “Damn,” Nut swore. There wasn’t any guarantee that he was going to be interested in a New York number.

  “But there are ways for me to get an out-of-town address as well. All I’d have to do is call their phone company service, give them a fake ID number, the real telephone number, and tell them that the person is applying to get a phone in their name in New York, and we’re calling to verify whether they’ve given us all the right information. You know, shit like that.”

  Nut loved a good schemer. Perhaps he would keep her around.

  “Sounds like a plan. But keep this between me and you. Here”—Nut shoved the telephone number into her hands—“do t
hat for me. And if you come through, there’ll be a couple of dollars in it for you.”

  “You don’t got to pay me shit.”

  “You just gonna look out for a nigga?”

  “If you want to do something, then take me out to dinner. Your money ain’t good here.”

  Nut liked her style. She was definitely pushing up and going for hers.

  “You got it, sexy. Let me drive you home.”

  ***

  Nut was in a trancelike sleep from a long night of sex, drinking, and smoking weed. Now that Melissa and Butter were jammed up, he had a large tab over his head, and his cousin had beat him for three hundred thousand, he’d sat around all day impaired. His mother came into his room and vigorously shook him awake.

  “Nelson, wake up!” she demanded. As soon as he pried his eyes open she tossed a heavy stack of papers near his head. She’d received a copy of the discovery papers from Melissa’s and Butter’s attorneys. “It’s official. Peter ‘Piper’ Brown has been named as the government’s informant.”

  Even though the news wasn’t shocking, Nut was still surprised. He shook his head in disgust. Julie turned and walked back out of the room, but you could hear her loud and clearly ranting and raving about how much of a loser Skinny Lorene and her son Peter were. Then she came back in the room and said, “He don’t deserve to breathe the same air as you! How could he snitch on his own flesh and blood? He’s just as trifling as my sister. Did I ever tell you that she tried to give your father some sex when we were younger? Yes, she did. But of course my husband didn’t want none of her rotten twat. When he told me I marched right over to her house and beat her ass!”

  Vaguely Nut remembered that incident. He was really young, but the memories came flooding back.

  Julie walked off again, and Nut lay there in deep thought. He still couldn’t understand what made his cousin turn snitch. On any given day he could have loaded up the car with Nut’s money and just kept driving. Why did he have to go out like that and involve those peoples, and then to take the drugs from Luis and leave Nut susceptible to getting murdered behind his shit was unfathomable. The anger welling up in Nut’s stomach was about to explode.

  Finally Nut had enough strength to get into the shower. When he emerged his mother had made him a steak and French fries.

  “How’s Melissa holding up?” he asked.

  “She’s all right. She’s tougher than she looks. She’s been going to church inside the prison and has faith that Jehovah will see her to freedom.”

  “And what do you think?”

  “I think that all things are possible when you have faith.”

  Nut agreed. “Did she ask about me?”

  “Not one word.”

  “Did she ever tell you what she was doing back at the crib after she’d already left me?”

  “I just told you that she doesn’t mention you.”

  “Well next time you go up there tell I said what’s up? OK? Can you do that for me?”

  “I sure can.”

  As he sat at the table eating his mother’s good cooking, a familiar number came through on his pager. It was Felicia. Immediately he called her back.

  “You got something for me?” he asked.

  “Yes. I was able to get the printout this morning. Do you want it today?”

  “Hell yeah. Come to my crib when you get off work.”

  “I can’t wait,” she flirted.

  Nut decided that he’d have to fuck Felicia and probably toss her a few dollars to get her hair and nails done, but that was it. When she brought him his aunt’s telephone bill printout, he noticed there was a number that showed up constantly in Delaware. They didn’t have any family out there, nor did she have any friends out there, so he knew that the only person she could be talking to for hours at a time was Peter. Now all Nut needed was the address.

  Nut almost walked a hole through his mother’s rug pacing up and down waiting for Felicia. Right after work she came tapping on his door. He opened it and gave her a once over. Her lips were all glossed up and her short hair was done nicely. She wasn’t a beauty queen, nor did she have a voluptuous body, but she did look a’ight.

  “Hey,” she said.

  “Whaddup. Follow me back to my room. My moms is here, so be quiet. She’s sleeping.”

  “OK,” she whispered.

  “Damn, not that quiet,” he said, clowning her.

  Inside the safe haven of his room, she pulled out the paper with the address. He looked down at paper and realized that soon he’d get a small fraction of revenge.

  “Whose address is that anyway?” Felicia asked.

  “See, just when things were going so well. Don’t ask any questions about my business. You got that?” Nut’s voice was loud, firm, and intimidating.

  “I thought you said your mother was asleep?”

  He laughed because he knew she was talking slick. “Come here,” he said and pulled her to him. She came willingly. “Take off your pants and do it quickly.”

  Giggling, she stepped back and took off her pants and panties. Lil Nut reached inside his jeans and pulled out his massive dick. Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a condom. With this chick he definitely wanted to wrap it up. Felicia climbed her bony legs on top of Nut and began to ride his dick. He had to literally wrap his large hand over her mouth to keep her quiet. He did not want Julie hearing him fucking a strange girl. When they were through he tossed her a hundred dollars and sent her on her way. Even if he wanted to, he couldn’t wipe that smile from her face.

  The next morning Nut had moves to make. He got a little shorty from his building named Head who was starting to get a name for himself to follow him in Melissa’s Maxima. They both drove down to Northern Boulevard so that he could sell his Mercedes 300 SL back to the dealer. Last year he’d paid ninety-five thousand for that car. Today he collected forty grand. Talk about depreciation. Had he moved a little quicker, his car wouldn’t have had to go. Originally the plan was to sell Butter’s Porsche, but the feds got to it first and confiscated it.

  After that Nut and Head road uptown in the Maxima and gave Luis another fifty grand. Although the deadline to pay the money in full was tomorrow, Nut knew that they wouldn’t murder him, not when they saw him trying to pay. He was more important alive than dead.

  From the outside looking in, with Nut selling off assets and the feds breathing down his neck, he looked fucked up. But he still had his hustle mentality, and about thirty grand to work with. If he properly flipped that he could make thirty grand into three mill. Shit, he was a little nigga who started out with nothing and banked well over a million dollars in this crack game. Nut was down, but he definitely wasn’t out.

  With no time to waste, Nut got on the road. He decided to take the little wild dude with him, just in case he ran into any unforeseen problems, but then he remembered that he needed to do this type of dirt alone. No telling who that young nigga might tell.

  He knew that he was taking a huge chance getting on 95 South with a loaded 9 mm, but he had to do what he had to do. There wasn’t any other way, and there wasn’t no way he was letting Peter get a pass. No fucking way. The heavy rain pounded on the top of his car as his tires glided across the sleek black pavement. His headlights illuminated the almost vacant roads as he made his way into a desolate apartment complex. Nut had everything he needed for his stakeout. He wasn’t an idiot. He needed to know if there was some sort of police guard looking out for Peter’s snitching ass. And he also needed to know whether Peter had any gunmen living with him, a girl, any kids running in and out. All those things were crucial before he went in there blazing.

  The first sighting of Peter made Nut’s skin crawl. He watched as the canary motherfucker walked from his apartment to another building where they had a laundry room. Peter didn’t have a worry in the
world. He didn’t appear to be paranoid. Nut never saw him looking over his shoulder or peering around corners. He almost had a skip to his steps.

  After twelve hours of watching Peter, he knew how he was going to catch him slipping. After eighteen hours, he was ready to rock him to sleep.

  In the wee hours of the night, Nut climbed to the third story by using the balconies. It was so silent in that area that the only sound that could be heard was the crickets making that annoying noise. The noise was distracting.

  Nut lifted the lock on the balcony and crept inside. The apartment was spotless. It almost looked brand new. The moon illuminated the living room, making it easy for Nut to find his way to Peter’s bedroom where he was sound asleep. Nut pulled out his burner and stood over his cousin for a long moment. He really wanted to wake him up and ask him why the fuck he did what he did.

  Finally Nut picked up a pillow, placed it over Peter’s head, and pulled the trigger. The muffled gunshot wasn’t enough to alarm anyone. Peter’s body rocked from the impact, but that was the extent of it. Nut gave himself five minutes in the apartment to see if he could find any of the money Peter had stolen from him. He looked high and low, trashing the place before turning to leave. Had he looked a moment longer, he would have found two hundred fifteen thousand dollars hidden in the top of the hallway closet.

  Nut drove back north replaying his actions. He had intended on torturing his cousin for hours. He was going to sit in the kitchen, sipping on a Corona beer while Peter remained duct-taped to a chair. He would have asked Peter why he started snitching. He wanted to cut off his fingers and stab him numerous times with an ice pick before finally burning him alive.

  But as he stood over his cousin’s body he thought about when they were kids and spent the night over each other’s houses. And had Nut never chose the crack game and pulled him in, then perhaps Peter wouldn’t have had to cross him and would still be alive. At the end of the day he was still his blood, and for that Nut chose to send him off peacefully. Peter didn’t even know what hit him.