This time Li Du stayed in Los Angeles, so meeting Francis was very convenient. The two met at a private club next to the old part of the city. The club’s owner was a friend of Bell’s and, coincidentally, of Francis’.
As usual, the star drove her domineering g-series.
After the two met, Li Du’s polite greeting turned out to be as manly as ever. There was no need to be polite, so he got straight to the point. Li Du told the story of Bruce at Salem Harbor, Bruce’s family, and what Bruce was doing.
“The boy is very remarkable,” said Francis, somewhat moved.
Chris Bell said, “Indeed. So when my buddy decided to help him, I felt duty-bound to do the same. This kid is the most responsible philanthropist I’ve ever met, and we have a responsibility to help him.”
“Chris is exaggerating. You’re a more responsible philanthropist.” Li Du laughed.
Bell shook his head firmly and said, “No, Li. What a man gives to charity is not about how much he gives but how much he has.”
He pointed to himself and continued, “I gave away some of the money I earned, but what about the kids? He gives with all his heart.”
Francis looked thoughtfully at the coffee in front of her and said, “You have to prove what you are saying is true. If there is such a wonderful child, I want to help him.”
“I took some pictures and could take two kids and have them tell you their experiences. Is that ok?”
Before Francis could answer, Bell shook his head and said, “Hey, man, let me do it.” He opened the door, went out, and soon returned with a beautiful woman in an elegant dress by his side.
Francis and the young woman smiled as they exchanged warm hugs. Francis said, “It’s nice to hear that you went to Africa some time ago, Stephanie. Your skin is not at all tan.”
Stephanie, the owner of the private club, laughed cheerfully and said, “God bless you. You don’t know! I did not dare to leave the house without applying a thick layer of sunblock first.”
Bell mused, “No wonder I always smell fragrances on you.”
“Of course. Of course, I smell fragrant…” Stephanie laughed.
“Well, your skin definitely smells of sunscreen,” Bell said calmly.
Stephanie punched him. “Oh, Chris, when did you get so glib? You are no longer the ‘son of God’ I know.”
To spice things up a bit with a simple joke, Bell touched on the subject. “Stephanie, we need Ms. McDormand’s help on something, but she has doubts about our character, so I need your confirmation.”
The smile on the pretty young woman’s face was hidden as she said, “What do I need to do?”
Bell told Francis, “I swear to you, Ms. McDormand, that what my friend and I said earlier is true, and I stake my character as proof.”
Stephanie added, “Fran, I don’t know what he said, but Chris is a real gentleman, and if you ask me which man I still trust, I have to tell you, I trust Chris Bell!”
Francis smiled. “Well, Stephanie, I don’t know this Mr. Chris Bell, but I know you. If you tell me to trust him, I will trust him.”
Li Du was very touched. He did not expect Bell to help him in this way. He had not met Bruce himself, so what he chose to do was a risk. Bell used his connection with Stephanie to back him up. It was a trust that Li Du was grateful for.
Curious, Stephanie asked, “What are you discussing? It looks serious.”
“Of course, the reason I needed proof was that you think it’s just a motorcycle, but I think it’s more than that,” Francis said.
Li Du caught another meaning in her words and asked, “What do you mean?”
Francis said, “I know a good man who would be happy to help a child who worships Batman. So I thought if I was going to help this kid, I’d impress him.”
…
The weather in Los Angeles officially entered summer in late July. Even when the sky was cloudy, the heat could still be felt. Community Administrator Rex Latin called out several children in an abandoned factory community in the Salem Harbor slum. These children were mostly of the yellow race, thin and silent.
The head of the pack was a 14 or 15 year old, with a right leg problem and a limp. It was the boy, Bruce, who called himself Batman. “May I help you, Mr. Latin?” Bruce asked politely.
Rex looked at him with a half-smile. “Can’t I visit with you, even if there isn’t anything wrong?”
Bruce grinned. “Sure, I just don’t want to waste your time, Mr. Latin.”
Rex patted him on the shoulder and said, “Bruce, you’re a good boy. You’re a good talker. I like you.”
Bruce became alarmed and said, “What’s the matter, Mr. Latin? Your praise makes me very uneasy.”
Rex did not answer. Instead, he said, “Bruce, you know my purpose in creating this community. I want to provide a place for the poor people here at Salem Harbor, for the poor people who want to live.”
Bruce nodded. “This is God’s great compliment.”
“I know you’re not poor. You’re smart and hard-working, and if you leave Salem Harbor, you can always find a career. Even if you don’t have a degree, ten or 20 years from now, you’ll still be successful,” said Rex.
Bruce was silent, and a boy who had been behind him approached.
“So I wonder, why don’t you get out of here? Why do you have to take care of these little guys?” asked Rex.
Bruce looked at him strangely and said, “What’s the matter, Mr. Latin? I don’t see why you’re asking…”
“Just answer.”
Bruce said without hesitation, “Because I know them. Nobody wants to take care of them, but somebody has to. I’m willing to do that. I want to help more people in need.”
