Monday, September 7, 2009

Little Pistol

Everybody has a relative they'd just rather not be related to. Mine was Everette "Little Pistol" Nelson. We were the same age...born just a few days apart...but as different as night and day. My name is Chess and this is one of my stories.

One night, Chris Thompson , Fathead , Donald Smooth and I were sitting in Josies.. We had ordered several drinks and were sitting at our little table laughing and talking...Mostly, we were all releived that our friend Kevin had taken Malik Lockjohn out of our lives forever.

"I sure wished Kevin had called me that day he finnally took Lockjohn down...I would've loved to have been in on that....I wasn't scared of that punk neither.." said Donald Smooth ,who had helped Kevin take down at least two of Lockjohn's associates during the time Lockjohn was on the move.

"I heard he had old Sonny Templeton working for on him too." I said with a laugh.

"Damn, What rock did he come from under?" Laughed Chris... "He was an old school gangster..he was a legendary hitter when I was a young boy comin remember him Fathead...When we were just touts....working for Wally O. "

"Yeah...Old Sonny Boy Templeton...went and got himself killed ,working with that fool,Malik Lockjohn." Said Fathead.

Malik Lockjohn's re-emergence into the Philadelphia scene had caused some dire changes.. For one...He had killed Loverman Jones and his entire crew...They were new players, young guns trying to make a little noise in South Philly...Too much noise for Papa old player who had waited a long time to take control and to wear the crown.. Papa Doc had been the one to give the contract to Malik Lockjohn and bring the angel of death back on the streets.
Lockjohn effeciently wiped out Loverman Jones and everybody who stood with him.., but not before some of his leftover crew wiped out Papa Doc! In the fallout from all of that mayhem...The FBI and the police picked up everyone left over...leaving the streets and territory wide open for a new player. Enter Lawrence Fontaine...a nasty peice of work if ever there was one..
Working with a Jamaican named..Dominic King, He took over all of Loverman Jones's teritory and Papa Doc's.. he weilded more power than even Fathead Newton. We discussed all of that. Chris and I didn't envy Fathead one bit. We were glad to be out of the game. We did however worry about our floating card game and what we would do if Lawrence Fontaine decided to come west and want a peice.

'What do ya know...What do ya say Cousin?" came a voice. I turned around and there was my cousin..Everette "Little Pistol" Nelson.. He was dressed to the nines and had on a nice fragrance that I just had to get around to asking him about. He had been in jail the last I heard....So if he was out and dressing like this and the owner of that shiny Lexus sitting outside Josie's...with his initials engraved on it...then I knew that he was back in the game...a game I had never been apart of.

"What's up LP?" I said, as I hugged my cousin...

"Chess, you what's up? I hear you doin good for a Masters degree, own properties
all over the city and just layin even got a son....and it's all legit....Wow...I'm proud of you boyyyy.." he said as he patted me on the back.

"Is that Chris??, Chris Thompson??? Oh my godddd....look at you baby...I aint seen you since before I got knocked....what's upppppp???" said my cousin.

Chris laughed his toothy grin and embraced Little Pistol....'You look good put on weight.. looks like the joint was good for you.." he laughed.

"Yeah man...I lifted weights, kept my nose clean...Hung with the Muslims and a number of guys from the west that was on my block...Nothing happened to me." said Little Pistol.

"So Chris...I heard you gave it all up, got out the game...that true?" he said.

"Yeah man...I made a lot of money...more than I can ever spend and I didn't go to jail and I didn't have no beefs the entire time I was in the game..I kept it quiet. You feel me?" said Chris.

"I hear ya kool...I'm doin it like you...I got a guy to spot me a few packages...I whole saled em and I quietly got myself established in South Philly...Cops don't know my name...People on the street don't know my name...only my associates...I keep it real low key. I sell to everybody."

"Isn't that Lawrence Fontaine's turf now?" asked Fathead.

"Yeah...but he buys from me too!...I know that sooner or later I'll have to move my operation somewhere else...but for now...He's just gettin started and buyin some of his stash from me."
said Little Pistol.

From a distance ,I heard Gus yell out-

'Oh Lawd...everybody hold on to their wallets...Wally O is in the house! Hahahahahaha...I thought you was dead old timer." laughed Gus as he slapped the old playa on the back.

"Nah Gus...I aint dead..just dead and re-tired..thas all..hahahahahahahahaha..." The two old men laughed and yucked it up...I had heard of Wally O. but Chris and Fathead and my cousin ,Little Pistol knew the man... He had started them all on their little merry way ,down the road to what my mother would call ruin. Chris and Fathead had been touts, then street dealers and eventually
Lieutenants in his organization when they were barely in High School...Both Chris and Fathead eventually moved up and earned their own franchises in his organization you might say and then eventually, they created worlds of their own.

My cousin on the other hand ,hated the man...had never graduated above low level street manager and had eventually broke with him and went his own way...which landed him in a federal pen for ten years.

The old man ordered gin and tonic on the rocks and came over to our table.....

'Lawd Jesus....Chris that you??? My number one student...You lookin good baby!!
and Fathead??? The new king of the West and Southwest...Man...I'm proud of you cats...I raised you from pups......and now look at you, Runnin the show..." he said.

I peered over at my volatile cousin...who was sipping a mojito and trying not to look the old man's way. The old man saw him.....

"Is that Little Pistol? Hahahahahaha...My gosh...I remember when you used to shine my shoes..
hahahahahahaha..." he laughed.

Little Pistol snarled at Wally O.

"That was a long time ago Old man...I don't shine nobody's shoes now...I'm a major playa now.."

"Major Playa? You? Bwahahahahahahahahahahahaha...You always did have more ego ,then sense of reality son....You aint no major nothin...You just a low level supplier...I keep up on what's goin on...My nephew is runnin things....and as soon as he finds himself a connect he can count on....You out a business in South Philly boss." said Wally O.

"Why you old Mother-" said Little Pistol as he went for one of his guns... Chris grabbed one arm and I grabbed the other arm.....

'Chill out cousin....He's just an old man...he's just jiving with you...come on...forget about it...
He's just having fun with you, let's just chill." I said.

'Yeah man......come on Wally O. ease up on him"said Chris Thompson.

"Hahahahahahahahaha...Okay...Okay,I'll ease up on him....Hey Little Pistol...go get your shoebox and shine my damn shoes..hahahahahahahahahahaha...Do they call you little pistol because of some other reason..bwahahahahahahahahaha..." laughed the Old man...

"That's're a dead mother...."

"Heyyyy, Heyyyyy...shut your out...chill out ...." I said...

Chris ,Fathead and I grabbed Little Pistol and walked him outside of Josie's....

The Old man muttered-

"Little punk, always the hothead...hahahahahahahahahahahaha."

The next morning....I entered the diner and sat down to order a cup of coffee....Fathead, Donald
Smooth and Chris Thompson came and sat down with me at the table...Chris tapped me on the

"Hey man....where is your cousin?"

'Home I guess, sleeping off his hangover...I dropped him off at his hotel after we hustled him out of the bar last night." I said.

"And that's it? You aint heard from him since?" asked Fathead.

'No..I aint heard from him...what's up?" I asked...

Donald Smooth tossed a copy of the Philadelphia Daily News on the table.. The headlines read-

Wally O. Retired West Philadelphia Businessman and alleged Drug Kingpin shot
to death on small street, early this morning.. He was 78.

He had been shot eleven times at close range and a fish had been stuffed in his mouth.....

"Oh my god" I said.

'Oh My God is right Chess....Wally O, is a respected player man....and not only that...He's Lawrence Fontaine's Uncle...This can't be good." said Fathead.

For once...The big man was right!

(To Be Continued......)


SLC said...


Anonymous said...

Oh wow. There is trouble brewing.