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American History 1988

``` Debt, economic decline, immigration; hippies, anti-government, freedom. At the end of the 1980s, a wave of change encompassed a country boy from the Rust Belt. As the gate for upward mobility was on the verge of closing, he struggled to move forward. College, Silicon Valley, entrepreneurship; HP, Apple, Microsoft. To become part of the 1%, or even 0.1%, he sacrificed a lot, but also gained a lot. ```

Quiet thoughts · Ciudad
Sin suficientes valoraciones
418 Chs

Chapter 11 Returning Home before Christmas

"Dean, I ran into Reed today."

Just as he had entered the door, Aunt Rachel had informed him of this unexpected news.

In the morning, he had first heard about his brother Reed from Doctor Sean Murphy, and by evening Aunt Rachel had run into him.

To this, Dean couldn't help but marvel at how small the world was, or perhaps how small Youngstown was.

"Aunt Rachel, did you say anything to him?" Dean asked calmly.

Rachel shook her head despondently, "Nothing, he ran away as soon as he saw me, just in the instant I looked up."

"Then don't bother with him, the sins he committed should be left to God's judgment. If he spends his life repenting for what he has done, then he deserves it."

Although Dean's feelings toward Reed were complex, he could distinguish right from wrong. His mother, Katelin's death, was largely his responsibility.

If it weren't for these things, there probably wouldn't have been a series of accidents that followed, and he wouldn't have had to run around because of it.

These nights, Dean would often dream of his mother, Caitlin, tending to flowers and grass in the garden or preparing homemade pastries in the kitchen.

Even though these weren't his own experiences, who could distinguish reality from illusion in dreams? The scenes from past life unfolded one after another, all vividly before his eyes, and by the time Dean woke up, his face was already cool and moist.

Because of Reed, a once happy family was now shattered. Dean, of course, wouldn't sympathize with the plight of an addict who caused all of this.

Seeing Dean's cold expression, Aunt Rachel hesitated to speak.

"Dean, every time I go to Caitlin's grave, I find it filled with fresh flowers, I think that..."

"Aunt Rachel, I'm hungry." Dean didn't understand why Aunt Rachel, who never brought up this topic before, was obsessed with a person who had made a grave mistake.

Sensing Dean's reluctance, Aunt Rachel averted her gaze and nodded silently, "I'll get started right away."

"He's not doing well." Rachel's voice came from the kitchen as Dean ascended the stairs.

"Dean, are you ready? We agreed on 10 o'clock, and it would be troublesome if we missed it."

From inside the old Ford, Frank rolled down the window and called up to the house.

"Uncle Frank, right away~!" Then there was a series of thumping sounds as he descended the stairs.

"Dean, although you're on vacation now, it's best not to stay out too late at night." Rachel reprimanded him when she saw Dean, with panda eyes, rushing out of the house.

"Sorry, Aunt Rachel, I stayed up too late researching last night." Dean could only find time at night to write the code for the classified website since he was busy during the day.

"Oh~, and here I thought it was aftereffects of watching a pay-per-view adult show." Frank winked, giving Dean a knowing look that only men understand.

"Frank, speaking of which, it seems like we haven't had a sufficiently passionate night for a long time, could this also be an aftereffect of adult pay-per-view shows, ah?"

"Darling, my big bird is already starving~!"

"Please, Uncle Frank, Aunt Rachel, I'm still in the car." Dean protested from the back seat.

"Dean, you should get a girlfriend." Frank and Rachel turned their heads together and struck him with a zinger.

"Alright," Dean shrugged his shoulders, "pretend I didn't say anything."

Today, Dean and Aunt Rachel were preparing to go to the eastern suburbs of Youngstown, where there was a prison in Ma Hongning County. Dean's father, Peter, was detained there.

Having returned to Youngstown for over a week, it was time to visit his father who had brought him a series of troubles.

Only one person could visit at a time, so naturally, Dean went in.

Frank and Rachel had visited Peter more than once already, but since his mother, Caitlin's, funeral, Dean had not seen his father again.

When Peter, in his orange prison jumpsuit, with a scruffy beard and disheveled hair, was brought out by the prison guard, Dean almost didn't recognize his own father.

This was a far cry from the Peter he remembered—neatly groomed hair, clean-shaven beard, and a confident demeanor, all gone.

A somewhat swollen face even made one wonder if he was doing drugs here?

"Kid, you seem quite surprised. Haven't seen me in a month, and you've forgotten what your old man looks like?" Peter, with his seemingly nonchalant attitude, still had the leisure to joke.

"Seeing you jumping around like that, at least I don't have to worry about you being unable to walk because some black guy messed with you."

"F*uk You, Dean! You know too little about your old man, the only ones who can't walk are others, never me!"

Ah, that's him, no doubt about it.

After exchanging greetings, the atmosphere suddenly became silent.

"Sorry, kid, I never thought we'd meet in a place like this," Peter looked down and spread his hands. "But luckily, it's me in here, not you."

Dean shrugged, "Sounds not so bad."

"What, are you still mad at me for insisting on Cleveland State University instead of Ohio State University, which you preferred?"

Despite his nonchalant appearance, Peter felt a twinge of guilt towards Dean.

Dean loved computers, which was known to the whole family. What he really wanted to attend was the computer science program at Ohio State University.

Compared to Cleveland State University, Ohio State University was much better. Top 50 in the nation, a truly tier-one university.

With Dean's grades, not to mention Ohio State University, even the Top 10 was within reach.

However, none of this could outweigh the full scholarship from Cleveland State University. Dean's family lacked money, which was also well-known.

Mother had been on medication for years, and with the ever-punctual mortgage payment, it made it impossible for old man Peter to support Dean's choice of college.

Actually, Dean was already very sensible. He had excellent grades but didn't choose an expensive private college or a well-known out-of-state university.

His goal was merely the best university in Ohio because he knew he couldn't afford the colleges out of state.

Attending a college in-state would cost two or three thousand US dollars a year, but going out-of-state would at least double or triple that cost.

Of course, all of this was set in stone when Cleveland State University agreed to his full scholarship application.

In that moment, hearing his old man bring up the past, Dean smiled in understanding.

"Old man, I'm planning to transfer next year."

"Oh?" Peter looked up at him in surprise, "Is that right, that's really great."

"But..." Peter hesitated, "which college are you planning to go to? I recommend Ohio State University, it's best not to go out of state.

It's not that out-of-state colleges aren't good, but being closer to home within the state, right? That way, on weekends we could go fishing together, or rowing at Lake Erie, or even to the strip club you always wanted to visit, I could join you..."

"I plan to go to Stanford," Dean interrupted his father's rambling.

"Stanford..." Peter touched his face unnaturally, "That's a private college?"

Dean nodded.

"Dean," Peter sighed deeply, "you know, I just lost my job. That means..."

"I know, old man." Dean didn't let him finish that most embarrassing of phrases for a man - I'm broke.

"What?"

"I mean, I'll earn the money for Stanford's tuition myself."

"That's a private college, Dean, do you know how much money that means?" Peter thought he had misheard.

"I know," Dean nodded, "and I'm not far from my goal."

"Mother F*cker, kid, I hope I won't see you in prison," Peter became uneasy, "Listen to me, Dean, this isn't the place for you, really. You wouldn't want to experience that treatment."

"Relax, old man. I want to go to college, not to jail. I know what I'm doing."

"You'd better, otherwise I won't be able to protect us from two n*****s."

Dean raised an eyebrow and then smiled.

"OK, laugh it up, kid. Your old man has irresistible charm at any time, in any place."

"Oh, it seems someone really enjoyed their time in prison and doesn't want to come home early, ah?" Dean nodded as if he suddenly understood.

"Hold on, what do you mean by that, you little punk?" Peter quickly picked up on the implication in his words.

"Your trial is coming up next week, and the union lawyer is very confident they can handle it as a Class C misdemeanor. With some luck, maybe you could be home by Christmas."

Dean didn't leave him in suspense, telling Peter the results of what he and Wedner had been working on.

Due to the lawyer's hint, Peter had been very tight-lipped, staunchly protesting the police conducting an alcohol test on him against his will.

Since he wouldn't admit guilt and because Aunt Rachel mobilized the community workers to protest at the county police station, the police were very frustrated with Peter, this piece of sh*t.

They also wanted to settle the case before Christmas so they could happily spend the holidays with their families.

So the police department was already planning to tempt Peter with a plea for a lesser charge, and with Sean Murphy's coordination, a Class C misdemeanor plea was within reach.

"F*ck! I knew it, I've been framed!" Peter stood up excitedly upon hearing the news.

His sudden movement caused the guard behind him to instinctively reach for his holster.

"Hey, hey, buddy, no offense." Peter raised his hands high, "I'm just too excited."

After calming the guard down, Peter lowered his voice and moved closer to the glass, "Dean, you're my good son, I knew you were a genius!"

"Don't get excited just yet, there's another piece of news, do you want to hear it too?"

"Could it be that the police are framing me, so the federal government is preparing to compensate me?" Peter stretched out his arms optimistically.

"I know where Reed is,"

Dean's single sentence immediately quieted Peter down.

Unexpectedly, Peter did not react too angrily; he was just calmly silent.

After a long pause, he finally looked up again. "Have you seen him?"

Dean shook his head, "I've just heard some news about him, but Aunt Rachel ran into him. However, before she could say a word, he ran away."

"Of course, he would run," Peter sneered, "the idiot sold himself and still doesn't know how to fight back. He ended up like this today because of his weakness and incompetence!"

"Aunt Rachel said his life might not be going too well."

"That's to be expected. I'm not surprised at all," Peter cursed, frustrated by Reed's failings.

The visitation time was soon up, and the prison guard was reminding Peter that it was time to go.

Before standing up to leave, Peter turned back and dropped a seemingly random remark, "If you have time, go see him."