[Chapter 63: Ackerman Charity Foundation]
In Ranch Park, the parking lot was cordoned off under the shade of trees near the RVs. The barbecue grill in the middle sizzled with the sound of meat cooking and oil dripping.
Frank flipped the meat with tongs in one hand while skillfully brushing on the sauce with the other. Nearby, several small folding tables were set up, and as Hawke stood up, the canvas folding chairs creaked beneath him.
He opened the ice bucket, pulling out drinks and beers that had long chilled, and asked Erica Ferguson, "Beer or juice?"
"I'll help you," Erica said, striding over, her golden-brown ponytail swaying as she came to assist with the bottles.
The weather was heating up, and as the drinks were set down, a layer of white mist quickly formed around them. Erica opened a can of beer and handed it to Hawke, asking, "Has the Savior not returned yet?"
"Thanks." Hawke pointed towards Fountain Street, spotting a used minivan pulling in. "Looks like he's here."
The minivan turned into the parking lot, stopping near the RV, and Edward stepped out first, followed by a striking thirty-something woman, Nicole, who held the hand of a girl under ten.
Edward made the introductions.
The woman was Nicole, who worked at a shelter, and the little girl was her daughter, Mikayla. The girl didn't appear too lively, always looking a bit pensive.
After Erica spoke a few words to her and hit a dead end in conversation, she whispered to Hawke, "I guess I'm not very good at talking to kids."
"Then keep your distance," Hawke suggested, putting down the freshly grilled meat. "Try some of Frank's cooking. He often brags about those barbecue parties he used to host back when he lived in a big house in Malibu. Claims he's a top-notch grill master."
Erica cut off a small piece, tasted it, and nodded. "It really is great. Compared to this, my dad's barbecue isn't even fit for the dog."
Hawke took a bite and had to admit, "I didn't think Frank was exaggerating."
Curious, Erica asked, "Frank seems nice. What does he do, and why does he live in an RV?"
Hawke's knowledge was limited. "He claims he used to be a producer in Hollywood. After divorcing his ex-wife, he didn't want to pay child support, so he decided to go on the lam. His old pals funded this RV and promised to keep him safe."
Noticing sauce on Erica's chin, he handed her a napkin. "Beyond that, I don't know much. I suspect Frank isn't his real name."
Erica wiped her mouth and decided not to pry further. "Everyone has secrets."
Not wanting the atmosphere to cool between them, Hawke sought a topic that would interest Erica. "Quick question, I'm planning to apply for a gun permit. Is it tough to get a gun permit in California?"
He was candid about it. "A significant part of my job takes place at night, and given the state of safety in Los Angeles... I've encountered some trouble before, and it's too dangerous without a gun as a deterrent."
Understanding the dangers of some areas in Los Angeles at night, Erica didn't hesitate to ask, "Are you proficient with firearms?"
Hawke responded, "I come from an impoverished farm in Wyoming. It's so sparse out there, if you don't know how to handle a gun, the coyotes would devour your sheep."
Erica continued, "There's a background check and some courses to take." After pondering for a moment, she said, "How about this? I'm free tomorrow afternoon. I'll join you for the application."
Hawke gladly accepted. "I'd appreciate that."
Erica tapped her can against his. "No problem."
Across from them, Mikayla was surprisingly following Frank to learn about grilling, while Edward and Nicole joined their table. The four of them seemed to be chatting happily.
During the conversation, Erica asked, "I sometimes deal with shelters; which one are you with?"
Nicole replied, "The Ackerman Charity Shelter in Hollywood."
The name Ackerman piqued Hawke's interest. He responded, "I often hear Edward mention you. I thought you worked near the poorer areas."
Nicole turned to kiss Edward. "We met when he was handing out business cards in Hollywood, a kiss by chance."
Edward returned the kiss. "Destiny brought us together; thank God for that."
Hawke couldn't tolerate the sappy exchange anymore. "It seems like there are more homeless people around Hollywood Boulevard."
"If the government doesn't take strong measures, Hollywood might turn into a second poor street," Erica elevated the conversation. "A shelter alone isn't enough to solve these problems, and helping is turning commercial..."
Seeing Nicole and Edward confused, she realized she might have miscalculated the mood.
Quick-witted as he was, Hawke jumped in with a question for Nicole. "Is the shelter affiliated with the Ackerman Charity Foundation?"
"Yeah," she replied. "I'm an employee of the charity foundation, but I'm on the lowest rung of the job ladder."
Grateful for the diversion, Erica smiled at Hawke. "I saw on the news that the Ackerman Charity Foundation donated ten million dollars to help leukemia children find matching bone marrow."
Nicole noted, "I'm not involved with that part. My job primarily helps the homeless, and occasionally the foundation provides free check-ups, and I help out with that."
Edward had heard Hawke talk about charity, and he had reminded the trio last time, but he had never mentioned it to Nicole. Instead, he praised her, "I heard many people discover they have illnesses thanks to Nicole's work."
Hawke began to understand why Edward was good at attracting these lonely divorced women.
Emotional value, he thought.
Nicole, as a lowly employee at the foundation, felt a bit of accomplishment and sweetly smiled at Edward. "Some people come back after getting treated; others choose to reintegrate into society and don't return."
At that moment, Frank lifted his head from grilling, glancing over at them.
Then, he returned to his task, clearly not wanting to get involved in their emotional discussions.
Noticing Frank's movement, Hawke called out to him, tossing a can of beer his way. "Enough cooking for you! Come join us for some chat."
"Just let me finish these," Frank replied, giving Hawke a look, silently hoping he wouldn't do anything stupid.
Once the steaks and skewers were done, Hawke pushed the tables together, and the five of them shared a feast of meat, beer, and banter.
Among those walking in the park, a few of Frank's acquaintances showed up and joined the gathering.
...
The next afternoon, Hawke met up with Erica at the collaboration shooting range of the West Bureau Police to submit a series of documents and sign up for the relevant courses, etc.
Erica made a phone call, and the background check was expedited; the course training and examination would be arranged soon.
As for the live-fire shooting, it was a piece of cake for Hawke.
After passing the background check, Hawke would be able to buy a gun at the shooting range's gun shop.
Erica recommended the Glock 17 and 19, both commonly used by the LAPD.
Hawke easily agreed to pick the more compact 19.
Later that evening, Erica had a night shift, so Hawke drove her to the West Bureau Police station, parking right outside to make his presence known.
Gossip circulated at an incredible speed, and Hawke was simply ensuring it would be easier to navigate situations in South Los Angeles in the future.
...
As night fell, he planned to head home and rest when he received a call from Claire, the assistant to Megan Taylor, producer of Midnight Entertainment.
Claire cautiously inquired, "The news didn't air last time; do you have any issues with us? Haven't seen you drop by to deliver news in a while."
Hawke explained, "I took a few days off recently."
Midnight Entertainment had been lacking in explosive headlines over the past few issues, leading to a drop in viewership. Megan Taylor was getting anxious and had Claire reach out.
Claire began to gaslight him. "You're still young; if you don't hustle a bit more, how will your studio flourish?"
"Not every day has a headline-worthy story," Hawke replied. All the attention-grabbing news he had sourced was authentic, though a lot was done by himself: "I'm working hard to find news. Just so you know, as long as the price is right, I'll make sure to sell any juicy news to you first."
...
On the drive home, Hawke pondered how to generate his next news piece.
Relying on what naturally occurred would yield too low a chance of snagging the exclusive; there were at least a few thousand competitors scattered across Los Angeles.
Once he returned to the studio, his phone received a multimedia message.
When Hawke opened it, he found a selfie of Erica in her police uniform standing before a full-length mirror.
He texted back, "A beautiful, valiant angel of justice just landed in Los Angeles."
His phone rang, and thinking it was Erica, he answered, only to hear a man's voice.
Eric spoke up, "You going to Tracy's Gym tomorrow?"
Having just scheduled his training course, Hawke replied, "Not tomorrow; I have a firearms training course and live-fire assessment."
Eric sounded surprised. "No way, is the business war already that high-end?"
Hawke chuckled. "Once you climb higher, you'll discover it's quite normal."
Sighing, Eric added, "The Rock went overseas for promotions, and with you busy, I'll have to hit the gym by myself tomorrow."
*****
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