America: From a Fallen Child Star to the Head of the University of the West

Chapter 112 Sean Penn Was Here

Meanwhile, the wind stopped on Bakersfield's main street, and the sun peeked out from behind the clouds.

At the entrance of the coffee shop, the man in the red hat pushed his empty coffee cup aside. The man in the white floral shirt sighed, while the sunburned man looked down at his work boots.

They just introduced themselves.

The man in the red hat is called Earl, the man in the white shirt is called Dan, and the last one is called Cody.

"Ten minutes will be up soon," Earl said.

Sean didn't check his watch: "If you want to end this, I'll leave now."

Earl looked up at him; his favorability rating hovered around 12. And he didn't say, "You can go now."

Before he could speak, Dan cleared his throat and said, "Mr. Actor, those training programs you just mentioned—regional innovation centers, community trusts—this isn't the first time you've come here to spout this nonsense, is it?"

"No," Sean said without blushing, "but what I'm saying today is the complete and comprehensive version for you."

"What's the difference?" Cody asked.

"To journalists, I need to prove I understand economic data," Sean said. "To tech companies, I need to convince them that paying taxes is good for them in the long run. And to you," he paused, "I need to speak like a human."

Dan's lips twitched slightly. "Sir, do you think we're stupid?"

'

"Ahem, that's not what I meant," Sean pondered for a moment, "Gentlemen, you are very intelligent. You care about the essence of things and disdain those empty and pretentious words. How can that be considered foolish?"

Yes, Sean dislikes a segment of rednecks and mindless populists. But their demands are valid, and besides, even if they are truly stupid, he can't say it to their faces!

After his flattery, the other party's expression seemed to soften.

"Okay, you passed the test. You mentioned training," Dan said. "We have community colleges and vocational training centers here. They all offer courses and enroll students. And then what? Where can you go after training? Look around here, the biggest employer in our town is a logistics warehouse, and they pay seventeen dollars an hour, without health insurance. The solar panel factory in the next county pays fifteen dollars an hour, but it's seventy miles from home. After you finish your training, where can I go?"

Sean bit his lip: "So your problem isn't a lack of training, it's that the skills you acquire can't be used to find suitable jobs locally."

"right."

“What if,” Sean said, “the training institutions and local businesses didn’t operate independently, but instead designed courses together and guaranteed employment together? You could get trained for a forklift license for this warehouse and be hired immediately after completion. Or what if a solar energy plant in the next county promised to reimburse your commuting fuel costs if you completed their certification course, and allow you to open a new service station locally after three years?”

"You know, I don't expect to solve this problem once and for all by giving out welfare."

Although what he just said may not necessarily come true.

Dan squinted: "That sounds expensive."

"The initial investment is indeed not cheap," Sean admitted. "But what's more expensive than doing nothing is that young people continue to leave, shops continue to close, medical resources continue to be lost, and eventually the entire community becomes an economic desert that no one is willing to invest in. By then, it will be too late to save it."

Earl spoke up, "You mean, Senator Crane didn't do these things??"

"I don't know what he did," Sean said. "All I know is that he didn't come to you to discuss these things in person."

At this moment, Earl's favorability rating was fluctuating between [12] and [8], but his expression showed no emotional fluctuation.

"You know what," Earl said, "I don't like you."

"I can tell."

“The way you talk, the way you stand here, your whole—your whole demeanor!” Earl drew a circle in the air with his hand. “You know I’ve been in Iraq? I’ve seen officers who come to a company for two weeks, ask everyone what their name is, where they’re from, and then go back to write a report. Yes, the report is full of our names, but it doesn’t have our faces.”

Sean didn't say anything.

“What you’re doing now is the same as what they’re doing,” Earl said. “You write down our names, go back and put them in your speech. I went to Bakersfield, and I spoke with Earl, Dan, and Cody.” And then? What will your report cover?

"Your name," Sean frowned. "I'll remember your name, Earl, but I don't really know your face. Your hat is pulling your features down so low I can't see them clearly."

He only saw the "Make America Great Again" message on his hat.

Earl did not speak.

“The kind of officers you’re talking about,” Sean said, “they don’t ask you real questions. They don’t ask why you joined the army, what you saw in Iraq, or whether you can sleep. They don’t care about your life after you leave the battlefield.”

Sean looked at Earl.

"Did you sleep well, Earl?"

The air outside the coffee shop suddenly became very quiet.

This time, the numbers above his head fluctuated wildly.

从【8】到【20】，从【20】跌回【5】，又从【5】慢慢爬回【15】。

"That's none of your business," Earl said.

"It's not related," Sean said. "So you don't have to answer."

Earl didn't say anything.

Sean didn't say anything either.

Thirty seconds passed.

Forty seconds have passed.

Finally, Earl took off his baseball cap and placed it on the table.

His hair was much grayer than most people had imagined.

"I didn't sleep well," Earl said. "Son."

His voice did not tremble or choke; it was simply a statement.

“Seventeen years,” Earl said. “I wake up at three every night thinking I’m in Fallujah. My wife says I’ve called out a lot of names in my dreams, but I don’t remember. Who the hell remembers how many dreams they have?”

Sean nodded.

“There are a lot of people like me in town,” Earl continued. “The Veterans Affairs clinic has a two-month waiting list. And the nearest VA hospital is in Los Angeles, at least a two-hour drive each way. It’s unfair to most of the people who have given their lives for this country. Just last year, one of my comrades committed suicide, and only three people came to his funeral, and four including me.”

"I don't understand why he committed suicide. It could be for medical reasons. Maybe he was disillusioned with society—"

"I think society has changed. If everything went back to how it was when I was a child, America might be able to regain its vitality."

In any case, I don't trust those young people—those who mess around with women.

"But there's one thing you all have in common," Sean remarked. "You're all confused."

"Really? Maybe?"

Earl put his hat back on.

"You're saying Senator Crane hasn't done anything for us," Earl said. "It's true that he hasn't asked about my sleep."

But he never asked about your sleep.

"Can you sleep, Mr. Actor?" He stared at Sean. "You once had a life everyone envied, but it all vanished like a dream. And what you're doing now—is it for wealth, fame? Or do you truly believe that what you're doing can unite everyone?"

Sean did not answer immediately.

Vincent's gaze shifted from Earl's face to Sean's.

"Sometimes I can sleep," Sean answered the question directly, "and sometimes I can't."

Earl listened and didn't ask why; he simply nodded.

“Then at least you know,” Earl said, “that some things can’t be solved by changing the president or the senator.”

“I know,” Sean said, “but some things can be done. Clinic wait times can be reduced, job training can be linked to local businesses, and closed shops in town can reopen. And if you have a representative who’s willing to prioritize these things, you can totally get involved!”

His tone suddenly became agitated, and his eyes gleamed with a probing light: "Mr. Earl! Why do you waste your votes on those politicians time and time again? You could be involved in political life, and you understand your own pain better than they do, don't you?"

"You make it sound nice, but politics has its barriers." The Iraqi veteran, as if suffering from PTSD, raised his voice considerably. "Besides, don't you have ulterior motives yourself!"

"No, no. This is only for yourself, Earl. So that when you wake up, you can see something other than the war from seventeen years ago."

Earl did not answer.

Just then, the sound of a train whistle drifted from afar. The whistle was neither too loud nor too soft, creating an atmosphere that, together with the afternoon sun in Bakersfield, divided the entire street into two halves of light and shadow.

Dan cleared his throat and stood up.

“We should get back to work,” he said to Earl and Cody, then turned to Sean. “You—you’re quite an interesting guy, Mr. Actor.”

Cody stood up and glanced at Sean: "If that training program you mentioned were actually to be implemented, do you really think anyone in town would be willing to do it?"

Sean was full of confidence. "Of course, but what we need now is for a local organization to take on this job."

The three men didn't say anything more. They turned and left, heading towards the pickup truck parked by the roadside. Before Earl opened the car door, he glanced back at Sean.

The pickup truck started its engine, drove off the main street, and disappeared at the end of the road.

Rachel walked over to Sean: "Looks like it didn't work."

"Get up," Sean said.

"Okay," Rachel paused, turning to look at the pickup truck that had already disappeared from sight, "So you really think your project can get off the ground that quickly?"

"From a market perspective, it won't be that fast. We're still in the process of deceiving investors everywhere, but you have to make others believe it, and even yourself believe it."

97

"So, you're lying?" Rachel shrugged.

"I don't think so," Sean grinned.

Vincent, who hadn't spoken until now, walked over. He stood on the deserted main street, remaining silent for a long time. "Mr. Carter," Sean asked curiously, "what are you thinking about?"

Vincent turned his gaze away from the empty street and sighed. "It's nothing. Let's continue with today's work. It's impossible to complete today's interviews and data collection with just a few people—"