American Adventure: My Uncle is Don Quixote

He was a tall man, but he didn't look well.

He was dressed in a suit and looked just like any other sports agent in the place.

As soon as he walked in, the Mexican-American bartender behind the counter recognized him.

"Hey, White!" the bartender greeted him. "Long time no see. The usual?"

"Mmm." White nodded.

The bartender expertly poured him a glass of Jack Daniel's on the rocks.

"Did you watch the Super Bowl yesterday?" the bartender asked casually, wiping down the counter.

He was asking the obvious. White specialized in commercial endorsements for football players; how could he *not* watch the Super Bowl? Besides, he'd mentioned Li Wei's name in this bar at least a hundred times. Everyone knew the story between them—and their feud.

White didn't even spare the Mexican-American bartender a glance. He ignored the question, raising his glass for a drink instead.

Just then, a bald, white agent watching TV nearby turned around. His eyes lit up when he saw White.

"Well, well, if it isn't White!" the bald agent exclaimed, slapping his thigh with an exaggerated motion. "You're a rare sight! Here right after the Super Bowl? I thought after watching Li Wei hoist the trophy, you'd be too pissed off to leave the house!"

Hearing this, a few regulars nearby turned their heads, ready to enjoy the show.

A vein throbbed in White's temple, but his expression remained impassive. He just took another sip of his drink.

"Hah, what a joke," White said coldly. "I've been slogging it out in this industry for over a decade. I've discovered, if not a hundred sports stars, then at least fifty. You think I'd get bent out of shape just because Li Wei won a trophy? What's there to be upset about?"

Hearing this, the bald agent snickered and turned to the others at the bar.

"Did you all hear that?" he said, putting on a stuffy voice to imitate White. "'I've discovered fifty, if not a hundred, sports stars!'" Then he dropped the act. "So, White, if that's the case... what're you doing now? Still slumming it at McCarthy's with the rest of us?"

The men at the bar erupted in unabashed laughter.

White's face darkened, but he struggled to maintain his composure, holding his glass and saying nothing.

"But seriously," the bald agent said, his tone shifting. "White, what really happened with you and Li Wei? I only ever heard the gist of it. Didn't you have his high school principal, Herman, all wrapped up? You were the first one in on him, so how did you fail to sign him?"

White looked at the glass in his hand and squeezed, trying to shatter it. Maybe that would shut the annoying old coot up.

Too bad for him, he squeezed, but the thick glass didn't so much as creak.

"There's nothing to talk about," he muttered.

"'Mr. White' is far too important to be bothered with the past!" another young agent in the corner called out, clinking glasses with his friend. "What do you mean, 'nothing to talk about'? You're the only person here with any connection to Li Wei! Don't play dumb. You spent a solid six months in this very bar, crying into your beer about it. I could recite the whole sob story by heart!"

He stood up, cleared his throat, and began to declaim in a ridiculously theatrical voice:

"'I was *so* close, *so* close! A yellow monkey like him—there's no precedent for one of them playing Quarterback in the NFL! And with that broke-ass hobo uncle of his living in a basement... their whole family put together isn't worth as much as the four tires on my car!'"

The bar erupted in laughter.

Now that Li Wei had won the Super Bowl, the higher his stock rose, the more they would gleefully rub this failure in White's face.

If White had actually managed to talk Li Wei into signing that endorsement deal, he'd have struck gold. An income of tens, or even hundreds of millions of USD a year wouldn't have been a pipe dream.

"Oh, and there's more!" the bald agent chimed in, slapping his thigh.

"'That nigger smashed my BMW! The windshield was shattered! He even drew a dick on the hood!'"

The whole bar howled with laughter.

"And here's the best part," the young agent continued. "White called the cops, but the Black student turned around and filed a racism complaint! The principal was forced to apologize, and not only did White have to pay for his own car repairs, he had to pay the kid $5,000 in damages!"

"And why'd he have to pay again?" the bald agent asked, pretending not to know.

"Because he had zero proof and just insisted the Black kid did it, so they nailed him for racial discrimination!" (Chapter 75)

The people at the bar were in stitches.

White's face was flushed a deep, ugly purple.

His dignity was something for them to wipe their feet on.

"That's enough, all of you!" he yelled, slamming his glass on the bar. "That was ages ago!"

The sight of Li Wei's triumphant face on the TV screen only made him more agitated. He bellowed at the bartender for the remote and angrily switched the channel.

Too bad for him, Li Wei was the only topic of conversation lately.

He flipped to another channel. An interview with Coach Miller.

He flipped again. This time, he froze. It was Principal Herman.

"...Yes, I have always been a firm believer in diversity and racial equality," he said in the interview. "In all my years as an educator, Li Wei is the most outstanding student I have ever encountered, bar none. From the very first time I met him, I knew he was destined for greatness..."

'That old dog Herman actually managed to wrangle his way into an interview? And he's spouting such horseshit!' White fumed.

He flipped the channel again. This time, to his disbelief, it was an interview with star commentator Joe Buck.

"Thanks to Li Wei, and thanks to the game of football," he said, beaming. "I won a massive payout. I'm going to donate a portion of it to help promote the sport, and the rest will go toward a family vacation..."

When asked if he had always been a firm supporter of Li Wei, Joe Buck answered without hesitation, "Absolutely. From the first time I saw that young man play, I just had a feeling he could truly set a record that would never be broken."

Seeing Joe Buck on the screen, White was so furious he almost smashed the remote control.

"Hey, White!" The bald agent saw this and seemed to recall something else. He turned back around and called out gleefully.

"That reminds me," he said. "Starting last year, didn't you say 'Li Wei's bound to lose this one' before every single one of his games?"

"Preseason, regular season, and playoffs last season... you said 'Li Wei's going to lose' twenty-one times," the young agent added, twisting the knife. "Honestly, for all your bitterness, Li Wei probably doesn't give a damn about you. He's probably forgotten you even exist."

"If you'd bet against your own prediction," the bartender couldn't resist adding, "you'd have been a rich man by now."

At this, the whole bar erupted in laughter, and the place was filled with a joyous atmosphere.

「Two days later, in Los Angeles.」

In room 308 of the children's hospital, sunlight streamed through a gap in the curtains, painting a golden stripe across the white sheets.

Ethan Horton was propped up in his hospital bed. The color had returned to his little face, looking much better than before his surgery. EKG patches were still stuck to his chest, with several lead wires snaking from the collar of his hospital gown to the monitor beside the bed.

He had waited for three whole days.

For three days, he hadn't known the results of the game. He didn't know if Li Wei had won, or if the Giants had taken the Super Bowl.

The nurses and his mom seemed to be in on it together. Everyone was tight-lipped about the results of the game, and the TV remote had been confiscated. They said it was to keep him from getting too excited, which could affect his post-op recovery.

But today was the third day.

"Mom," Ethan said, tugging on Rachel's sleeve. "Dr. Weber said I was recovering really well when he came by yesterday. You were right there, you heard him."

"Yes," Rachel replied, sitting on the edge of the bed and stroking his hair. "He did say that."

"So can I watch TV now?" Ethan's eyes brightened. "Just for a little bit. I promise I won't get too excited."

"Ethan..."

"Mom, I really, really want to know what happened," Ethan pleaded, clutching the corner of his blanket. "I've waited three whole days. I was thinking about it even when I was on the operating table."

"Can you go ask Dr. Weber for me, please?" He let go of the blanket and grabbed Rachel's hand instead. "If he says I can, will you turn on the TV for me? Just for five minutes... no, three minutes. I just need to know who won."

"Okay," Rachel said, feeling Ethan's forehead. "I'll go ask. You just wait here, okay?"

"Okay!" Ethan nodded emphatically.

Rachel turned and walked towards the door.

She opened the door and slipped out sideways, giving Ethan one last smile.

She gently closed the door and turned around.

In the hallway outside the door, a group of people was standing.

Li Wei stood closest to the door, wearing a navy blue Giants sweatshirt.

Behind him was Jin Heon, holding a cell phone.

Chen Haisheng was on Li Wei's right, cradling a folded navy blue jersey and a white Nike shoebox.

Further back stood a dozen or so reporters and photographers from ESPN, Fox, NBC, and the New York Times. They shouldered cameras and sound equipment, but the entire group was perfectly silent. Not a word was spoken, not a single device made a noise.

Jin Heon had briefed all the media beforehand: once they entered the patient ward, all conversation and equipment noise was prohibited. They were to use silent shutters only, no flash photography, and under no circumstances were they to ask the child questions.

When Rachel saw Li Wei's smile, her eyes instantly welled with tears.

Jin Heon had been in contact with her over the past few days, so she knew Li Wei was coming. But now that the moment was actually here, the sheer impact of it was almost too much for her to handle.

"Ms. Rachel," Li Wei said softly, giving her a slight nod. "Is he ready?"

Rachel took a deep breath and nodded firmly.

"You can go in now," she said.

Li Wei nodded and took the jersey from Chen Haisheng's hands.

It was a brand new Giants No. 1 jersey, the exact same style as the one Li Wei had worn on game day.

On the bottom-right corner of the jersey, Li Wei had signed his name with a marker.

He walked up to the door of room 308, raised his hand, and knocked gently three times.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!

Ethan's bright voice called out from inside the room: "Is that you, Dr. Weber? Come in!"