That feeling had returned, and Reed could clearly sense the waves of craving surging through his body.
It was a craving from deep within his soul, an uncontrollable physiological desire.
Cough, cough—his trembling body slowly recovered as the effects of the drug gradually dissipated. Wiping away his runny nose and tears, Reed struggled to rise from the ground.
The room was empty, not a soul in sight; Phillip had already taken a black girl off to play poker while Reed was under the influence.
By the dim light, he glanced around. The US Dollar bills scattered on the floor were covered with footprints.
This was the money exchanged for Dean's phone card! Reed quickly knelt down and picked up the bills one by one, counting twenty-five in total, not a single one missing.
Finally, a faint smile of relief appeared on Reed's face. But before his smile could fully bloom, he bowed his head again, burying his face in his hands that clutched the bills, his shoulders shaking uncontrollably.
After a while, Reed secured the money and then sloppily straightened his clothes before pushing the door open and walking out.
Outside, the noise of gamblers and the screams of women were just as they had been when he first arrived.
"Hey, brother, are you feeling like you're on top of the world now?" The tall, skinny black man at the door asked Reed, raising an eyebrow with a smile.
Tugging at the corner of his mouth, Reed, with his hands shoved in his pockets, silently headed toward Charlotte Street.
He needed to leave this place immediately, the sooner, the better. The notorious Charlotte Street filled him with trepidation, but what he feared more was the beast inside his heart.
So, now was the time! He had to give all this money to Dean—he couldn't keep a penny on him!
Without a second thought, Reed got straight into a taxi on the street.
"To the south side of town!"
"Buddy, it's Christmas today, I'm closed." The driver, ready to go home, didn't want to linger.
"Mother F*ck! I said to the south side of town!" Reed kicked the back of the front seat aggressively.
"Hey, calm down, calm down!" The driver quickly raised both hands to pacify him.
Reed responded with an even fiercer kick.
"OK, OK, I'm leaving now," the driver said, buckling his seat belt while cursing bitterly in his heart. He shouldn't have brought a passenger to Charlotte Street just now. Nothing good ever happened here.
Sigh—the yellow taxi sped into the snowy wind, heading south. Unbeknownst to anyone, the snowflakes beneath the streetlights once again began to scatter.
...
"Dean, if it wasn't for… you know, Christmas today, I... I would definitely take you to Fatal Attraction to watch the girls dance?"
"Dad, are you sure you're not the one who wants to go? You've repeated that at least five times already."
Dean was guiding his father Peter through the snow towards Charlotte Street, one step deep and the other shallow.
In Ohio, during winter, the snow fell as if it cost nothing, scattering everywhere.
When Dean and his dad left to visit Aunt Rachel's house, they could even see the stars in the sky. But by the time the party ended, the goose-feather snow had blurred their vision, so the snow on the ground had grown another layer thicker.
Thankfully, they were in the south of the city; even though it was almost night, they didn't have to worry too much about encountering idle hooligans.
Creak, creak—Dean and his dad managed to shuffle through the snow to their front door with great difficulty.
Looking at the dark house silently standing in the deserted night, both Dean and Peter were slightly lost in thought.
If his mother, Caitlin, were still here, they would likely be hosting a party in their own home right now.
"I'm tired, Dean. Let's talk about moving tomorrow. At least we can still live here until '89, right?" Peter left his shoulder and walked into the room, opening the door himself.
"If by '89 you mean January 1st," Dean shrugged his shoulders, also ready to go upstairs to rest. This Christmas, he had spent meaningfully.
Ding-a-ling—a knowing that the person in the house was about to turn the page for today, the phone in the living room grabbed Dean's steps at the last moment.
"Come on! Today is Christmas!" Dean had no choice but to come down from the stairs and approach the phone.
"Hello—this is the Price residence on Charlotte Street."
"Dean, I'm outside."
"What?" Dean felt that the breathless voice on the phone sounded somewhat familiar.
"It's Reed; I'm right outside!" After saying that, the phone went dead.
Reed? Dean paused for a moment.
Since the last time he had seen him at Meercy Park, Dean heard nothing more from him.
Even occasionally, Dean wondered if his bastard of a brother had deceived their family once again.
It wasn't as if he hadn't done that before, but after their last conversation, deep down, Dean had chosen to trust him one more time.
Now he hadn't disappeared; he was just standing outside the door.
Dean put down the phone, walked to the window, and pulled back the curtain to look outside. The dark street was hard to see, the snow obscuring the dim streetlights even further.
Glancing back at his father's room, it seemed as if soft snores were wafting through. Dean decided not to wake him but instead put on his coat, opened the door, and stepped outside.
"Dean!" Reed's voice came from outside the yard.
Following the voice, Dean could barely make out a figure through the blur. He wrapped his coat tighter and stepped out of the yard into the snowy wind.
"Reed, why pick this time for a meeting?" It was Christmas Day, after all. Did he have nowhere else to go?
"Dean..." Reed, huddled in the shadows, glanced at the street corner not far away, "Let's talk over there."
Dean took one last look at his dimly lit home, then nodded and followed Reed toward the street corner.
It might have been the cold weather, but Dean could feel Reed shivering incessantly.
"Reed, do you want to come in and rest, have a cup of hot coffee?" For the first time, Dean invited him home.
Reed, leading the way, trembled at the offer but quickly shook his head, "No, Dean, I'll be fine in a bit."
If it had been before, Reed would have yearned to return to the home he had longed for, especially after joining the Serenity Club.
But now it was different, Reed even feared going back there. He was afraid that his appearance, exposed under the light, would be laid bare to them, afraid that the scent of leaves on him would desecrate the place where his mother, Caitlin, had once lived.
"Reed," Dean stopped in the shadow of the street corner as Reed, silent and still, stood ahead, shrouded in his hood.
"Dean, I've sold all those phone cards. But the price might be a bit low, only half their face value."
Reed took out the roll of US Dollars he had clutched the whole way and handed it to Dean, "$2500, all here."
Looking at the money handed over, Dean was taken aback; it seemed Reed had truly changed.
"Reed, you did great. This price is already much higher than I expected." Dean took the money, but he didn't take it all, leaving five notes out.
"Reed, take these, maybe... you need it right now."
"No!" Reed immediately stepped back as if he had seen some monstrous beast, "Dean, put them away."
"Reed?" Dean looked at him, puzzled. Why was Reed resisting the money?
"Dean, please take it all, I'm begging you~" The "sobering up" treatment at the Serenity Club had utterly failed, and Reed's body was telling him that the feeling was coming back.
"Reed, are you really okay? If you need help, maybe you can talk to me," Dean sensed something was off with Reed.
"No, I'm good, I'm just..." Reed turned his head away from the shadow, looking at him, "I'm just happy, Dean, that you care about me."
They had grown up together as brothers, and they should have been very close. But ever since Reed became an addict, everything had changed.
It had been too long since Reed had heard words like that, especially on a night like this, Christmas.
"Dean, you're different from me; you have a bright future ahead. You will be the first in the Price family to get a degree, and you might even become a member of the elite.
But me..." Reed looked down, avoiding eye contact, "I'm probably just the opposite of you, a hopeless addict, a habitual liar, a complete screw-up..."
"But none of that matters, I've accepted it all, and I know I can't escape this fate. However, I will still sincerely congratulate you for reaching the height the Price family has never seen. Dean, you must succeed!"
In the cold wind, Reed put his hands in his pockets, gave Dean a deep look, then turned and walked away into the darkness with his head down.
"Reed," Dean called out behind him, but the latter did not turn around.
Under his hood, Dean could never see his expression clearly. But Dean knew that something important must have happened today.
"I will succeed! I promise!"
Under the streetlight, Reed waved his hand, his figure disappearing completely into the dark.
----
PS: I see that some readers are not too happy with Reed's story arc. I will try to gloss over it in future. Thank you for your support!