People in America: My Uncle Don Quixote

After the morning AP Calculus class, Li Wei and Michael went to their respective classrooms.

In American high schools, AP courses are electives. Michael will take AP History, while Levi will take AP Macroeconomics.

The macroeconomics teacher was Mrs. Mosley, a very serious-looking old black woman who expressed some dissatisfaction with Levi's joining the class.

“Listen,” she said, looking at Li Wei, “you probably didn’t study AP Economics in your country’s high school before, and I seriously doubt you can keep up if you want to get an A in a year—no, in half a year.”

"Then you can choose any content from the book," Li Wei said. "I think I might be able to keep up."

"Alright," Mrs. Mosley said, closing the copy of "Mankiw's Macroeconomics" in her hands and staring at Levi. "Mr. Levi, could you please tell me about the events following the Great Depression in America...?"

5 minute later.

"..."

Mrs. Mosley was silent for a moment, then picked up the thick book "Mankiw's Macroeconomics" with a skeptical look and flipped through it again and again.

Li Wei crossed his arms and watched her with a leisurely air.

"Memorizing textbooks and understanding the logic of economic operation are two different things, Mr. Levy," Mrs. Mosley walked back to the podium and pointed to an empty seat at the back of the classroom. "Please find a seat and sit down. I hope you can also submit a flawless assignment during the case analysis."

Li Wei shrugged and returned to his seat with his book.

At noon, Li Wei originally wanted to have lunch with Michael or Travis, but Franklin K. Lane High School is a large high school in New York City with as many as 3500 students, so the crowdedness of the cafeteria at lunchtime is evident.

People of all ethnicities sat together in groups, with only a very few dining areas having mixed seating.

Black people, Latinos, Asians, and varsity teams all have their own groups.

Even after Li Wei finished eating the food he had brought, he still couldn't find the two of them.

Around 2 p.m., the tactical room in the gymnasium smelled like a sauna permeated with the stench of sweat.

A large group of physically strong, hormone-fueled high school athletes squeezed into the small lecture hall, shouting and shoving each other.

The entire operations room suddenly went cold the moment Li Wei walked in.

"Wow," Coach Miller and his assistant coach followed him in, and when they saw this scene, they clicked their tongues in amazement. "To actually quiet you all down, it seems I really didn't make a mistake in hiring this backup quarterback."

He walked to the podium in the operations room and picked up a large megaphone.

"Get your rotten, fat asses off those stools! All of you fucking push your way to the front!" he yelled. "You idiots!"

"This is your last year of high school! And your only chance in your lives to jump out of this ditch!" he said. "Either you go all out, act like beasts in front of those college scouts, and get a D1 scholarship; or you get out of my locker room right now, go sell drugs on the street corner, and die like stray dogs in some gang fight in a sewer! Choose one, geniuses!"

Travis, who was next to Li Wei, suddenly roared, startling Li Wei.

"When did you get here?" He turned to look at Travis. "I didn't see you."

"I just went to the gym, buddy," Travis said, his forehead covered in sweat. "The school gym has a lot of equipment, so I don't need to go to any other gyms."

"Next week, we'll be starting the PSAL (New York City Public School Athletic League) season," Coach Miller roared from the podium. "If we can win four out of six games, we'll make the playoffs. What's our goal?"

"Champion! Champion! Champion!"

"That's right!" Coach Miller roared. "Champions! Only by showing up in the playoffs, even the championship game, will you catch the eye of scouts, get invited to training camp, and fucking make the NCAA! If you can't win, you'll just rot behind the Brooklyn fence!"

"Also, I know some young men are not well-off and their families can't afford those expensive steaks and personal trainers," he said. "If any of you need my help, come to my office later and I'll give you some 'tailored advice'."

While saying he needed help from his classmates, Coach Miller's gaze was actually fixed on Levi and Travis.

"Why is he looking at me like that?" Li Wei felt somewhat confused. "Do I need his help?"

"I know," Travis said knowingly. "Come with me."

After the mobilization meeting, Travis led Levi to the door of Coach Miller's office.

"I know Asians are shy," he patted Levi on the shoulder, "I'll go get it for you."

After saying that, he knocked on the door and went into Coach Miller's office. A little while later, he sneaked out carrying two bags.

"What's this?" Levi asked, noticing the clattering noise from his bag. "Fitness supplements Coach Miller gave me?"

“No,” Travis said. “It’s all testosterone and anabolic steroids, growth hormone, and some stimulants and diuretics.”

Li Wei was startled and whispered, "Why would the coach give us these things?"

"You... it's natural?" Travis scratched his head. "Damn, the coach and I thought you were using performance-enhancing drugs because you were so strong."

"You've been playing these kinds of games since high school just to play football?"

Li Wei looked at the bag he had opened: testosterone enanthate, methaqualone, methyltestosterone, insulin, oxytocin, and even ephedrine for its stimulant effect.

"High school?" Travis shook his head and said, "I started taking it orally in middle school, and then I started injecting it after I entered high school."

Li Wei now understood why Travis had such a low level of cognitive ability, like someone with an intellectual disability, but seemed to have a certain talent in sports (Chapter 36).

Travis looked at Levi's horrified expression, chuckled self-deprecatingly, and expertly stuffed the colorful medicines back into the black drawstring bag.

"Don't look at me like that, buddy, it's commonplace all over America," Travis and Reeves said as they moved to a blind spot in the surveillance footage. Travis pulled a marijuana stick from his pocket, but then hesitated and didn't light it. "Guess why I was able to make it big in the amateur youth leagues and jump straight into the starting lineup for PSAL?"

"Can you understand all these medicines?" Li Wei couldn't help but ask. "Do you know what these things are?"

"To be honest, I don't understand. I get dizzy just looking at the names on it." Travis shook his head. "But the coach told me how to eat, so I just listened to him."

Li Wei suddenly remembered that the first time he went to the gym, he overheard two people chatting while changing clothes. They were talking about drug use, and one of the men, a muscular black man, looked to be about the same age as him from the side.

Now it seems his face is gradually merging with Manu's (Chapter 5)

"But this will ruin your endocrine system, your testicles will shrink, your emotions will become uncontrollable, and even your heart will become enlarged..."

"Heart? I might die in a gang fight tomorrow," Travis chuckled. "You know, Levi, my grandfather died at 45, and my father was already suffering from gout so badly he couldn't walk before he was 35. Do you think I'd still be thinking about my enlarged heart at that point?"

"I have no money, and I don't have the talent for studying. The only thing I can say I have some talent for is this body of mine," he said, stretching out his arm, which was bulging with veins and varicose veins from drugs and training. "But I don't have that much talent to easily get into the NCAA and make a name for myself."

"Do you know why there are no drug tests in high school leagues?" he said. "As long as I can get a full scholarship, even if I go to the NCAA but don't do well, even if I never make it to the professional leagues, at least I can leave this hellhole, at least I can afford to go to college, and then I can become a fitness instructor, or even come back to be a sports coach. That's a decent life, man."

"If I stayed here, a kid like me would either become a gangster's henchman and be extremely lucky enough to live past 30, or spend my whole life flipping meat patties at a fast food restaurant," he shrugged. "My dad has tophi in his knees and he takes painkillers every day to flip meat patties at a burger joint, earning $15 an hour. I know I'll never get ahead, and that's the rest of my life."

The street kid has his own survival wisdom. He may not be outstanding in his studies, but he is not a complete fool.

"But these medicines aren't cheap, are they?" Li Wei couldn't help but ask. "Can you afford them?"

"These..." Travis shook the bag. "I don't know, but none of my other coaches in junior high and high school ever took money from me."

Li Wei couldn't help but take the bag and carefully examine the packaging box. Finally, he couldn't help but whisper:

"Damn it, these are unfinished, unreleased drugs that haven't been approved by the FDA (Food and Drug Administration)!"

"That's not surprising," Travis said cheerfully. "The coach said he got it from an internal pharmaceutical company through a friend. He didn't charge me; he just wanted to do me a favor. These coaches are really nice."

"Honestly, I'm worried that the coach spent a lot of money to get these drugs," he said, "otherwise I wouldn't have the money to pay him back."

Li Wei had a more brutal explanation, but he just couldn't bring himself to tell it to his classmate, who was still a minor and already had more than six years of experience using illegal drugs.

"If we can win the PSAL championship," Travis said hopefully, "we can get a scholarship to a D2 or D3 university, if not a D1 level one."

As he spoke, he gripped the bag tightly in his hand, as if it were some kind of lifeline.

With mixed feelings, Li Wei said goodbye to Travis and took the campus bus home.

Don Quixote was lying at home watching television when he saw Livy push open the door and enter, marveling at the sight.

"How strange, how very strange," he said. "I thought you'd bring a girl back on your first night. Is Franklin High School some kind of Catholic school?"

"No," Li Wei replied casually, "In fact, the three girls fought over me, but I haven't decided whose date to keep yet."

"Bullshit, you're just bragging," Don Quixote scoffed. "Three people fought for you? Why don't you mention that the cheerleader invited you to her house to teach her stretching that day?"

"How did you know?" Li Wei turned around abruptly. "Who told you?"

"The joke is funny, but stop dreaming. Come and see this news," Don Quixote said, pointing at the television. "Do you remember the construction site where I used to work?"

"I remember," Li Wei walked over, "What's wrong? What happened?"

The television was broadcasting news from WNYW, a channel that primarily broadcasts local New York news.

The television was broadcasting a news report about an attack on a Brooklyn construction site that left several people injured. Two announcers were commenting on the incident:

"...You're absolutely right, Brian. This attack is being accused of being carried out by the Russian mafia active in Brighton Beach. The construction company also believes that the previous hack of their financial system was also carried out by the same criminal organization..."