bean detection

Butters, moving comically in his neck brace and backboard, stood with me throughout the memorial service. Of the survivors, fifty or so of my volunteers had been willing to attend. In a ceremony that was half comedic and half gut-wrenching, I pronounced them Knights of the Bean and Defenders of Chicago. And then I pinned a dried lima bean glued to a steel backing to their chests, and I made each of them a promise:
“If you or anyone you love is ever in danger, come and find me. If it isn’t you, tell them to show me this. I will help. No questions asked.”
Promises are a magic of their own, with a little will behind them. And when I made each one, I felt it leave a signature on the pin. I’d know it if someone tried to pass a fake one on me.

Battle Ground Chapter 36, Page 368