Mismatch (4 page)

When Sue hesitated, Rochelle’s face became serious. “Sue, is something wrong? You’ve been kind of weird lately. Are you in some kind of trouble?”

Rochelle’s face looked so solemn, Sue had to suppress the urge to laugh. Before she could say anything, Rochelle came over and put her arms around her. “Sue, you’re not, like, into drugs or anything? I won’t tell Dad or Mom if you don’t want me to, but you can come to me with anything, you know.”

This time, Sue had to concentrate on not cracking up. She knew Rochelle meant well, but she was so far off the mark it was ridiculous. She knew kids at school who smoked pot or took ecstasy, but using drugs wasn’t something that had ever interested her. She never felt like doing something just because others did it.

“Or is it something to do with the boyfriend himself?” asked Rochelle gently. She paused, and then whispered, “Is he . . . you know . . . putting pressure on you to . . . you know . . .”

This time, Sue couldn’t hold back her giggles. She put her hand over her mouth to smother her laughter.

Rochelle dropped her arms and stood back. “Well, excuse me for asking! I didn’t know it’s all a big joke!”

Sue saw the hurt on Rochelle’s face and felt bad. She realized how far apart she and Rochelle had grown. She remembered how she used to run to her sister and tell her everything. She’d always been able to count on her to listen sympathetically. “Rochelle, wait!”

Rochelle turned around and looked at Sue. “What is it, Sue?” she asked quietly.

Sue took a deep breath. “You’re right, the problem is with Andy.”

“Andy? The boy I saw you with at Hero’s?”

Sue nodded. “His name is Andy Suzuki, and he’s Japanese American.”

Rochelle was quiet for a minute, and then whistled. “I get it. You think Mom would freak out if she knew.”

Sue nodded again. After a long silence, Rochelle spoke. “Look, Sue, you and Andy aren’t exactly running off to get married tomorrow. I mean, he’s just asking you for a date.” She peered at Sue. “Right?”

“I don’t want Mom to know I’m seeing a Japanese American boy,” Sue said miserably. “Please don’t tell her, Rochelle.”

Rochelle sighed. “Okay, I won’t tell her. But you can’t keep this a secret forever. She’ll want to know who you’re going out with. She asks about my boyfriends all the time.”

Sue smiled. “No, she doesn’t. She’s given up trying to keep track.”

Rochelle smiled back, then turned serious. “Look, Sue, take my advice and come clean soon. Maybe not tonight when Grandma’s around, but soon. It’s easier on the nerves—especially
my
nerves. Besides, I don’t think Mom can hate the Japanese forever. Dad can talk her around.”

“Mom’s been brainwashed about the Japanese from the day she was born!” said Sue. “No matter how I tell her, she’s going to freak out. And if she knew about Andy, she’d tell Grandma.”

“So she’ll tell Grandma,” said Rochelle, and shrugged. “It’s not the end of the world. So she’ll be a little upset.”

Sue thought of the incandescent hatred on Grandma Mei’s face, so intense that you could almost feel it radiating across the room. If Grandma knew Sue was dating a Japanese boy, she would be devastated. “I can’t hurt Grandma like that, Rochelle.”

Rochelle looked exasperated. “I don’t get why you care so much about what Grandma Mei thinks! It’s
your
life! And it’s not like she’s
living
with us!”

Sue shook her head.
Rochelle doesn’t care about Grandma.
She isn’t close to Grandma, like me.
“Please, Rochelle,” said Sue. “For me, just keep quiet about Andy!”

Rochelle sighed. “All right, Sue. I won’t be the one to blow the whistle.”

Come clean soon
. Later that night, as Sue unloaded the dishwasher, she kept thinking about Rochelle’s words. She knew she had to tell her mom about Andy sooner or later. But when?

After driving Grandma Mei home, her mother came into the kitchen and began to put away the leftovers. “So that was your boyfriend you were talking to?” she said brightly to Sue. “What’s his name?”

“Uh . . . uh . . . Andy,” said Sue. “His name’s Andy, and he plays first violin in the orchestra.”

“Good, good,” said her mother.

Before her mother could ask more, Sue took a deep breath. “Mom, are you really upset about our orchestra planning a trip to Tokyo?”

Her mother put down the dish of leftover prawns. There was a silence. “You know how I feel about the Japanese, Sue,” she said finally. “I hate the very thought that you’d be breathing the same air as those people.”

“But Mom,” protested Sue, “the people in Tokyo today aren’t the same ones who invaded China!”

Her mother’s face was stony. “I know how much the orchestra means to you, so I’m not stopping you from making the trip—if it’s really in the works. But I don’t want to talk about it anymore!”

This was definitely not the right time to tell her mother about Andy’s last name.

At lunch the next day, Sue and Andy sat alone at their own table, away from Mia, Ginny, and the others. They both knew they had to talk. Andy started speaking before he even unwrapped his sandwich. “I’m beginning to like you a lot, Sue. If my dad had a bad time during his trip to China, he can get over it! I know that our families have their own weird prejudices. But we can’t let them control us. If you come over and meet him, he’ll see that not all Chinese are the same.”

“The same as what?” asked Sue.

Andy looked down and pulled at a piece of lettuce in his sandwich. “My dad said somebody spat at him,” he muttered, finally.

Sue felt herself growing angry. “So. We’re backward, and we spit in the streets. That’s just great.”

“Hey, what’s up with this ‘we’ stuff?” protested Andy. “One Chinese guy spat on my father once. That doesn’t mean anything about you, or about your family. Besides, I thought we’d agreed that we were
Americans
before anything else.”

Sue tried to take a bite of her sandwich but put it down again. “We are, but that doesn’t mean we can shake off our cultural heritage.”

Andy snorted. “Heritage, shmeritage! You’re beginning to sound like a social studies teacher!”

Seeing that Andy was growing more and more impatient, Sue tried to explain. “It’s not just the heritage thing. My mom really hates the Japanese. See, my grandmother was in China during the Japanese invasion. It was a terrible experience, and it really scarred her. She tells us about it every chance she gets. You can imagine what it’s like for my mom, who’s been hearing all that since she was a baby.”

Andy frowned and nodded sympathetically. He didn’t seem to know what to say. Sue drank some of her milk. She was so miserable that she didn’t see how she could finish her sandwich.

Finally Andy said quietly, “Tell me about what happened to your grandmother. I’ve read
The Rape of
Nanking
. Was she . . .” He stopped, then started again. “Was she . . . um . . . raped by the invaders?”

Sue shook her head. She knew that abuse of Chinese women had been common during the Japanese invasion, but Grandma Mei’s family had been lucky, at least in that respect. She told him about the bombings and the soldiers breaking in and the beating. Andy looked a little pale when Sue finished. “How badly were they beaten, your . . . let’s see . . . your great-grandparents?”

Sue’s grandmother had gone into a lot of detail during some of her visits. “Badly. Her father’s arm was broken, and her mother lost a couple of teeth. I can imagine how horrible it must have been for her to watch and not be able to do anything.” After a moment, she added, “But the thing that always makes my grandmother cry is when she talks about how one of the soldiers smashed her favorite doll. It just represents the whole terrible experience for her. What kind of monster would destroy some little kid’s favorite toy?”

This time the silence between them lasted even longer. Andy was first to speak. “I know that terrible things went on during the Japanese invasion. Do you think I might be a monster like those soldiers?”

Sue quickly shook her head. “I don’t believe that
you
could ever be like that,” she protested.

“But do you think my
family
could be like that?” continued Andy.

Sue took a breath and tried to think. What
did
she believe? She tried to picture the men who had beaten her great-grandparents. Had they been anything like Andy? Could that kind of cruelty really be carried in the blood?

She’d grown up listening to her grandmother’s stories, never quite believing that all Japanese were evil but still unable to explain the cruel acts of the Japanese soldiers. She knew Andy would never behave that way, but the truth was that she
wasn’t
sure what she felt about the Japanese people.

She looked into Andy’s eyes, and for the first time she saw not understanding but anger. She realized with a sickening thud that her hesitation was really hurting him. How did it feel when a person you liked thought you came from a race of monsters? Sue wanted to open her mouth and explain, but she was afraid that it was already too late.

Andy took a deep breath. “Let me tell you a little about my family. My mother’s grandparents came over from Japan, and they became truck farmers. During the Second World War, her grandfather and his whole family were rounded up as enemy aliens and put in a camp.”

Sue couldn’t seem to push any words out of her mouth. She had heard about the so-called relocation camps, called concentration camps by some people. The Japanese immigrants on the West Coast were imprisoned there under harsh conditions because there was doubt about their loyalty to their new country.

Andy continued, his voice low but shaking with anger. “My grandfather was able to leave the camp when he enlisted in the army—the
American
army. He fought in Italy, where he was wounded. The American government awarded him the Purple Heart. Does he sound like the kind of monster who terrorized your grandmother?”

Before Sue could think of anything to say, Andy stood up abruptly and left the lunchroom.

The next orchestra rehearsal was almost a week away, so it would be several days before Sue and Andy could have a private talk at Hero’s. Sue decided to approach him during lunch the next day to apologize. She felt terrible for making him so angry.

At lunch, though, Andy sat at a different table. He didn’t even glance in Sue’s direction as he walked by with his tray. Mia’s eyebrows rose so high they practically disappeared into her hairline. “Hey, why is Andy sitting over there?” she hissed to Sue.

“Maybe he got tired of your jokes about being my boyfriend,” snapped Sue. She knew she was being unfair, but she couldn’t bear to tell Mia and Ginny about the fight with Andy. How could either of them understand?

At lunch the next day, Sue saw Andy come into the cafeteria. This time she turned her head away and pretended to ignore him. She was angry now; she had wanted to apologize, but that was before Andy had started acting like such a jerk. She didn’t want him to know that she was watching for him. She hoped that maybe Andy would stop to talk—how long could he stay mad?—but it didn’t happen. If anything, he brushed by her table even faster than the day before.

And so it went on like that. Sue felt worse with Friday’s lunchtime snub. She even considered marching up to Andy and confronting him. But then she remembered the anger on his face when he had stormed away from her. She didn’t want to fight with Andy in front of everybody. It would just have to wait until Monday.

“All right, Sue, what’s going on with you and Andy?” Mia asked at lunch when Andy again sat down at another table.

“What do you mean?” mumbled Sue, although she knew perfectly well what Mia meant. It was obvious to anybody with eyes in their head that almost overnight Andy had gone from being crazy about her to hating her. Suddenly, she felt hot tears well up in her eyes. “Got to go to the bathroom,” she blurted, and bolted to the girls’ room before the tears could spill down her cheeks.

As she stood wiping her eyes with a paper towel, Mia came in. “You and Andy had a fight, didn’t you?” she asked gently. “You can’t stay mad at each other like this, Sue. You’ve got to do something.”

“Because we’re just made for each other?” snapped Sue. “Because we’re both Asian Americans?”

Mia came over and put her arms around Sue. “Listen, Sue, now that I really know you and Andy, I don’t think of you as Asian American, or whatever. You’re just
you
. What I
do
know is that Andy likes you a lot. I can tell he’s really upset about the fight you had. Whatever he did to make you mad, get over it!”

Sue shook her head. “That’s just it. It isn’t something Andy did. The problem is with our folks. Andy’s family is from Japan, and mine is from China. They think that makes us enemies.”

Mia stared. Her mouth opened and closed, so that she looked like a goldfish. “Are you serious? You’re telling me that you broke up with Andy just because your family didn’t approve of him?”

When Mia put it like that, Sue had to admit that it seemed stupid—especially since her family hadn’t even
met
Andy yet.

“You know what this reminds me of?” said Mia. “
Romeo
and Juliet
. How the two lovers have to meet in secret because their families are feuding. Are you making yourself out to be Juliet?”

Sue’s tears had dried, and she found herself smiling. “Okay, Mia. I get it. Just promise you won’t start calling Andy Romeo.”

4

A
s soon as the orchestra members were seated at Monday’s rehearsal, Mr. Baxter gave them a big smile. “Well, folks, I just got word that your parents will be meeting next Tuesday to discuss the trip to Japan. If they manage to work something out, we’ve got Tokyo in our sights!”

The players cheered, and the rehearsal started with a bang. Mr. Baxter launched the orchestra into the noisiest piece they knew. He drove his players so hard that they were practically panting at the end of the piece. But nobody complained. They all shared the excitement of knowing that the trip might really happen.

In the viola section, Sue was too busy thinking about her fight with Andy to play her best. When the rehearsal ended, Sue started walking automatically over to Hero’s. Andy usually caught up with her before she was halfway there, and even though she knew he was still mad at her, she was hoping against hope that he would show up anyway. If he followed her to Hero’s, they would have privacy, and Sue could finally apologize. She could tell him that whatever her mother or her grandmother thought about the Japanese, she liked and trusted him, and that was all that mattered.

The last of the orchestra members were leaving the school. Sue walked slowly toward Hero’s, looking back every now and then to check for Andy. She was almost at the sandwich shop and there was still no sign of him.

Finally she saw him. She felt her heart quicken as she saw him pulling on his jacket as he walked out of the school. But then Sue realized that not only was he not following her to Hero’s, but he was not alone. He and a girl were busy talking, apparently discussing some musical passage. Sue recognized the girl as Laurie, his stand partner. Andy made bowing motions with his arm, and Laurie did the same. Then Andy nodded at Laurie, she said something, and they both burst out laughing.

Sue felt her face grow hot. Laura might be Caucasian, but it seemed that she had a lot more in common with Andy than Sue did.

How could I be so stupid!
She had been so angry when Mia and Ginny and the others assumed that she and Andy were made for each other because they were both Asian. But watching Andy laugh at Laurie’s jokes, Sue realized that she herself had assumed the same thing! And she had been just as wrong as Mia and Ginny.

But wait a minute.
Sue remembered the concern in Andy’s voice when he’d asked her in the lunchroom whether anything was the matter. He really did care about her. Or did he? Sue was so torn that she didn’t know what to believe. The only thing she knew for sure was that she was alone, and she was totally miserable.

She couldn’t face entering Hero’s and having Andy snub her yet again. She hurried over to the bus stop, her eyes filling with angry tears.

Andy waved and called to Sue, but she kept walking and didn’t look around. He stopped trying to attract her attention when he saw her step up into the bus. Her head was bent, and she looked so forlorn that he felt a pang of guilt.

“So you think those short, choppy notes aren’t going to work?” said Laurie’s voice beside him.

Andy pulled himself together. “Short, choppy . . . ? Oh yeah, right. That’s the way we should do it.”

Laurie grinned. “Can’t concentrate? Okay, I’ll let you go. I’ve got to run anyway.”

After Laurie left, Andy realized that even though Sue had gone, he was still really hungry. He walked slowly to Hero’s. It felt funny to go in and eat by himself. Apparently the boy making sandwiches thought so, too. “What happened to your girlfriend?” he asked. “Had a fight, huh?”

“Mind your own business,” growled Andy. Ignoring the boy’s smirk, he took his sandwich and walked over to his and Sue’s usual table.

He knew their fight hadn’t been Sue’s fault, not totally. He couldn’t blame her for being upset, since he’d started sitting at a different table during lunch. He had been really angry with her after their argument. Sue had said it was only their families keeping them apart, but the more she said it, the more it sounded as though
she
had some problems with the Japanese people, too.

But then he thought about it. He realized he wasn’t being really fair to Sue. If that man in Beijing, instead of just spitting on Andy’s father, had also broken his arm and knocked out some teeth, Andy would have to think for a moment on how he felt about the Chinese people.

Sue was right about one thing, anyway: it was too soon for her to introduce him to her family. He would have to find a chance to talk to her. He was reluctant to approach Sue in school, where Mia, Ginny, Nathan, and others had their sharp eyes on them. He’d have to continue meeting her at Hero’s after rehearsals—if he could get her to join him again.

Tuesday night was the night of the meeting to discuss how to finance the trip to Tokyo. Andy and his parents showed up at the school gym right on the dot at seven-thirty, but the tiers of seats were already crowded, and they had to go all the way to the top row to find room. Andy looked around to see if he could find Sue. Since he was looking down on the backs of people, he wasn’t able to spot her.

The meeting was chaired by a Mrs. Fulton, the president of the Lakeview P.T.A. “Ladies and gentlemen,” she said, calling the meeting to order, “you all know why we are here. As you no doubt recall, the Kasei School from Tokyo visited America last year and gave a concert at our school. Most of the people here went to that concert, which was a huge success. The Kasei School is noted for its outstanding musical program. Its orchestra played superbly, and deserved the enthusiastic reception they got.” She paused, looked around, and smiled. “I believe that the Lakeview High School Orchestra is every bit as good!”

Wild applause broke out. Personally, Andy thought that the Kasei orchestra had a stronger wind section, but the Lakeview orchestra had better string players.

The year before, his parents had acted as host family for a cellist from the Kasei orchestra. Since their guest spoke very little English, Andy’s father had to do most of the talking. On the weekend the Suzukis took their guest for a picnic on Mount Rainier, and the snowy scenery impressed him deeply. He kept saying, “Fuji! Just like Mount Fuji!”

Andy wondered if he would see the boy again if he went to Tokyo. Then he remembered that the boy had been a senior and would have graduated by now. Did Sue’s family also host a player from the Kasei orchestra? No, of course not. Sue had just transferred to Lakeview High and hadn’t been around during the visit by the Japanese kids.

Meanwhile, Mrs. Fulton was still talking. “As you know, our orchestra has received an invitation from the principal of the Kasei High School to visit Tokyo and give a concert in their auditorium.”

More applause. Without waiting for it to end, Mrs. Fulton went on. “We are on the point of accepting the invitation, but before we can do so, there is the problem of financing the trip. We don’t have to worry about lodging, since host families in Tokyo have offered to put up our players. But we still have to pay for the plane tickets.”

“How did the Kasei orchestra pay for their trip?” asked one of the parents.

“A good question,” said Mrs. Fulton. “I actually asked the Kasei principal. He said that the parents of the players paid for all the tickets.”

There was a murmur from the audience. Andy turned and looked at his father. “Of course I’ll pay for your ticket!” his father said. “It doesn’t cost any more than the music camp you’ve been attending for the last three years!”

“Mrs. Fulton, we should not forget that Kasei is a private school, where wealthy parents send their kids,” said a parent. “Let’s remember that Lakeview High is a public school, open to students of all backgrounds!”

“Not everybody here can afford a round-trip plane ticket to Tokyo at the drop of a hat,” said another voice.

“There is something else,” said Mrs. Fulton. “Japanese parents typically spend a lot more money on their children than we do, I am told. Many families have only one child, or at most two, so they tend to spend more on each child.”

“We have families here with three, four, or more children,” said another parent. “We can’t all afford to buy tickets to Tokyo. I don’t think it would be fair if only players from rich families go to Japan.”

“I think I can safely say that we all agree with you,” said Mrs. Fulton. “Therefore, we are here tonight to think of some way to find money for the tickets for
all
the players.”

“Hear, hear!” came from a number of parents.

“All right, we’re agreed on that,” said Mrs. Fulton. “One way of raising money is to go door to door and solicit.”

“By ringing every doorbell in the school district, we’ll involve the whole community in the orchestra’s visit to Japan,” said another parent. “I think this is a good idea.”

“If you just ring doorbells and ask for money, people might give you one or two dollars,” objected a parent. “We’d have to get contributions from
thousands
of people to pay for all the tickets!”

Andy groaned. He pictured himself ringing doorbells and saying with a bright, toothy smile, “Hi, how would you like to contribute some money to help send the Lakeview High School Orchestra to Japan?”

Other suggestions were made: a bake sale, a car wash. It was decided that none of these schemes would produce enough money in time for the trip.

“How about an auction?” suggested one parent. “If you just ask for money, people will give you only one or two dollars. But they’ll offer a lot more money if you can give them something they want.”

“Hey, that’s not a bad idea!” said several people. Mrs. Fulton made the motion to adopt the proposal and was seconded. “Shall we have a show of hands?” she asked. The motion was approved by such a large majority that it was unnecessary to count the votes. It was decided that there would be an auction, and that the orchestra members would also solicit donations door to door and hold a car wash to increase their chances of raising enough money.

After the meeting ended, Andy and his parents got up from their hard wooden bench and went down to the floor of the gym. They joined the other parents and stood around talking, mostly about what they could contribute for the auction.

“I can offer a gourmet dinner for six,” offered one mother.

“Yeah? And who’s going to do the cooking?” asked her husband.

One couple said they would offer tickets to some Seattle Seahawks games, while another couple offered a week at their beach cabin.

Andy had a sudden vision of bidding for the beach cabin and staying there with Sue. They could swim all day, barbecue some burgers for supper . . . and then the picture became . . . well . . . exciting. He realized that he was breathing fast and tried to focus on what the other parents were saying.

He moved toward the refreshment table to get some juice—some ice-cold juice. Was he still daydreaming, or was it really Sue at the other end of the table?

She was standing with a middle-aged couple, and from the family resemblance, Andy guessed that they were Sue’s parents. Andy eagerly studied the woman, Sue’s mother, realizing that she was his potential enemy. She had a smile similar to Sue’s. She was petite and looked calm and pleasant—not at all the kind of person who might attack him for being Japanese. He wondered whether Sue had been exaggerating about her mother. Should he try to attract Sue’s attention and get introduced to her parents?

“I feel that the auction should also include some valuable objects, not just services,” said Andy’s father, approaching the refreshment table and pouring himself a cup of coffee.

“Maybe someone has a piece of art he wants to offer,” said one of the mothers. “I mean, something other than what you’d find at garage sales.”

“I have a hand-embroidered blouse I can contribute,” said one woman.

“I do ink brush paintings,” said a woman behind Andy. “I can offer one of my works, if someone thinks it’s worth it.”

Andy turned around and saw that the speaker was Sue’s mother. Standing next to her was Sue. She looked up, and her eyes met Andy’s.

Should he say something to her? They hadn’t spoken for more than a week, and Andy still remembered his anger as he stormed out of the lunchroom at school. He also remembered the sadness in Sue’s face when he saw her after rehearsal the day before. What was she thinking now?

There was no doubt about it: from her panicked expression, Sue didn’t think it was time for her parents to meet Andy and his family. She looked ready to make a run for it.

“You do ink brush paintings?” Andy heard his father say. He saw that his father had stepped over to Sue’s mother and was addressing her. “That’s wonderful! These days there are too few artists using this medium. Most of them go in for oil paintings.”

Sue’s mother looked pleased. “I’ll never turn to oils. I do only black-and-white ink brush painting.”

Andy’s father nodded. “Black-and-white brush painting is what I like best, too! The brushwork has a flexibility and strength that you also see in calligraphy. I would love to bid on one of your works!”

Andy groaned inwardly. He could see what was coming next. His father would ask the artist’s name. He had simply assumed, of course, that a woman cultured enough to do ink brush painting was Japanese. While Sue’s mother probably assumed that only a Chinese man would have the sensitivity to appreciate this kind of painting.

But once they got introduced, the two would realize that their respective names were Hua and Suzuki. What then?

Again, Andy looked at Sue, to see how she felt. She shook her head very slightly. Apparently she had seen the dangers, too, and didn’t want to take a chance.

“Mom, I’ve got a headache coming on,” Sue said. “Can we go home?”

“Oh, all right,” said Sue’s mother, reluctantly tearing herself away from someone with such good taste. She turned to a gray-haired man, who had to be Sue’s father. “Shall we go?”

Andy didn’t know whether he was relieved or disappointed. A potential scene had been avoided, but he had also lost the opportunity to talk to Sue and end their fight. He couldn’t wait until the next rehearsal. He would have to think of some other way to approach her.