Mismatch

by Lensey Namioka

  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.

  The door-to-door campaign began after school two days later. As Sue started her route, she wondered if Andy’s was anywhere near hers. He had told her which bus he took, and she knew he didn’t live too far off. What would she do if she ran into him? At the meeting in the gym, he had looked like he wanted to talk to her, and maybe make up. Or was she just imagining things? She sighed and took out her forms. I’ve got to stop obsessing about this and get down to work.

  Going door to door turned out to be not as bad as she expected. She tried her own neighborhood first, people she knew. First she tried the house at the end of her block, the Dawson family. She took a deep breath and rang the bell. The daughter, who was a ninth grader at Lakeview, opened the door. “Hi, Judy,” said Sue. “I’m raising money for—”

  “I know!” said Judy with a big grin. “The orchestra is going to Japan.” She turned around and called out, “Mom, it’s someone raising money for the orchestra’s visit to Japan!”

  Mrs. Dawson came to the door. “Hello . . . it’s Suzanne Hua, isn’t it? So the Lakeview orchestra has been invited to play in Tokyo. What a great honor! And for you, going to Japan must be almost like going home!”

  Mrs. Dawson meant well, so Sue didn’t have the heart to say that Japan was totally different from China, and that going there was not at all like going home. America was her home.

  Mrs. Dawson contributed five dollars, not a bad start. After that, Sue lost much of her nervousness. At a couple of houses nobody was home. When she reached the house owned by a crabby old man who was always shooing cats away from his yard, Sue hoped that he would be out. But he was home. When he opened the door, Sue didn’t have a chance to start her spiel before he snapped, “Whatever it is, I don’t want any!” and slammed the door in her face. But at most houses, Sue’s reception was pretty friendly, even when she didn’t manage to get a contribution.

  Around suppertime, Sue decided to call it quits. People hated having their meals interrupted, and besides, she was so tired she couldn’t face climbing any more front steps. Playing her viola for the same number of hours didn’t tire her half as much. She had covered only a small part of her route, the part closest to home. She looked at her total: not quite forty dollars. She didn’t know how much one round-trip ticket to Tokyo cost, but with forty kids in the orchestra . . . Well, they could still make money from the car wash and the auction.

  At supper, Sue was almost too tired to eat. But after a few bites of her mother’s soy chicken, she recovered some of her energy. “So how much money did you get?” asked Rochelle.

  “About forty dollars,” mumbled Sue.

  “Hah!” said Sue’s mother. “At this rate, you won’t make enough money even for half a ticket, much less to pay for the whole orchestra to go.”

  “We still have other ways of raising money,” Sue pointed out. “I’m going to do some car washing next week, and there’s still the auction.”

  “I still think the whole scheme is hopeless!” said her mother.

  Sue knew that her mother hated the idea of the trip and would be delighted if the orchestra failed to get enough money. But at least she had agreed to allow Sue to go.

  Sue and Rochelle were just clearing the table when the doorbell rang. “Maybe it’s one of our orchestra membe
rs asking for money,” muttered Sue, going to the front door. “I’ll have to tell him that this is one house that’s already made its contributions!”

  When Sue opened the door, she was stunned to see Andy standing there. For a minute, the two of them just stared at each other. Finally Andy broke the silence. “I guess this is one house that’s already made its contributions, huh?”

  On hearing her own words, Sue broke into giggles that had a touch of hysteria.

  Andy looked nonplussed. “I came here tonight because I wanted a chance to talk to you, Sue,” he said finally.

  Sue had waited so long to speak to Andy, but now that they were face to face, she found her throat getting tight. She tried for a light tone. “We had a close call at the gym. I thought your dad and my mom were going to figure out what was going on with us, and then we’d have a duel with drawn swords.”

  Andy grinned. “Yeah, maybe I could get my dad to use a samurai sword! That’d be the most spectacular event the Lakeview gym ever had!” His face became serious. “Sue, I came here to tell you how sorry I am about what’s happened between us. It was dumb of me not to sit with you at lunch. At first, I was just so mad, and then once I realized what a jerk I was being, I guess I was too proud to apologize. I meant to talk to you after rehearsal the other day, but I had to stop and go over something with Laurie. You were gone before I had a chance to say anything to you.”

  So Andy isn’t interested in Laurie after all. She’s just his stand partner, and needed his help with some music. The rock that had been lodged in Sue’s chest since their last rehearsal seemed to dissolve. “I haven’t been all that nice to you, either. What I said to you about the Japanese soldiers was pretty unfair to your family.”

  “I thought it was your turn to scrub the pots, Sue,” said Rochelle, coming to the door. “What’s taking you so long? Can’t you just tell him this house has already made its contributions?”

  Both Andy and Sue broke out laughing. Rochelle stared at them. “Hey, you’re Andy, right? You called Sue the other night, didn’t you?”