Big L's Arc

Chapter 3 of 6

By morning the block knew Big L had taken the throne. But a throne with no soldiers falls fast. He needed men. He needed them today. So he set his sights on the biggest name still loose on these streets. A man who used to break legs for Dread. He found the giant on the porch of a large house, arms crossed, tattoos running from his knuckles to his neck. This was Robbing Rob. He had worked for Dread for years, and every collector on the block feared his fists. Rob looked Big L up and down. He was not impressed. "You the one who put Dread on his knees," Rob said. His voice was low, flat. "Now you want me to kneel too." "I don't want you to kneel," Big L said. "I want you standing next to me. Dread paid you scraps. I'm offering the whole block." Rob stepped down off the porch. He stood a full head taller. The dog beside Big L went still, hackles up. Big L did not step back. He held the giant's stare and pulled a thick roll of bills from his jacket. He tossed it. Rob caught it in one hand. "That's the first week," Big L said. "There's more when the crew is built." Rob weighed the cash. He looked at the young man who had beaten his old boss, then at the pitbull, then back. Something shifted in his heavy face. "Dread never once put money in my hand first," Rob said. He pocketed the roll. "I know every soldier on these blocks. The ones Dread scared, the ones he cheated, the young ones with nothing." He nodded slow. "I can bring you a hundred." "Then bring me a hundred," Big L said. For three days Rob walked Big L across the streets. He knocked on doors Big L never knew existed. He named names and vouched with his fists and his word. Corner boys signed on. Debtors who owed Dread switched sides for a clean start. Young ones who wanted a gun and a name lined up. By the third night they counted a hundred heads in the yard behind the house. Rob stood at Big L's shoulder like a wall. The crew looked to Big L now, waiting for orders. He finally had the thing Dread always had. He had an army. His mother came out onto the porch. She wore her gold chains and her white sneakers, and she folded her arms and studied the crowd. She did not smile. "A hundred mouths," she said. "A hundred mouths that all got to eat, baby. Dread had two, and two nearly ate him alive." Big L looked out at the yard. She was right. A hundred loyal men cost more than any roll of bills he had. To feed them, to pay them, to keep them from turning, he needed real money. He needed the corners running by dawn. The throne was his. Now he had to fund it.