Mismatch

by Lensey Namioka

  Haruko laughed. “Mother ordered the food sent from a local restaurant,” she explained.

  Andy blushed and went back to eating. He stole a look at Haruko and realized that when she stopped sulking, she could be quite attractive. He couldn’t help comparing her to Sue. Both girls were slight in build, and both moved gracefully. The main difference was probably in personality. Haruko was eager to keep up with the latest fashion, but Sue was happy to go her own way. That was one of the things Andy liked best about Sue.

  Mr. Sato looked at his watch and said something quietly to his wife. Andy realized that time was passing, and that the concert would be starting in a little more than an hour. The usual preconcert fluttering in his stomach began, and suddenly the sight of the elegant dinner nauseated him. It was time to get moving.

  When Sue arrived at the Kasei School, she found Haruko talking to Andy for a change, instead of standing with Mia, Ginny, and the other “real” American kids.

  “Hey, Sue,” Andy greeted her. “Ready for the concert?”

  Sue saw that his shoulders looked stiff and his hand was tightly clenched on the handle of his violin case. He was suffering from his usual preconcert jitters. Sue wanted to put her arms around him and comfort him, but that would embarrass him in front of the others. Instead, she gave him a big grin and said, “Of course I am! I don’t think you have to worry, either. Anybody who can catch goldfish with a paper scoop shouldn’t have trouble with a violin solo!”

  After a second Andy laughed, and his shoulders relaxed. The others wanted to know about the goldfish, and Sue gave them an exaggerated account of Andy’s heroically going after the goldfish with his paper scoop.

  “All right, folks,” Mr. Baxter said. “Let’s show them!”

  “See you later, Andy,” said Haruko as she joined the other Japanese kids heading for the entrance of the auditorium.

  Sue thought Haruko gave Andy a significant look before she left. “She seems a lot friendlier than she was before,” she remarked to Andy as they were lining up behind the curtains.

  “Apparently my so-called heroics in the pachinko parlor made quite an impression on her family,” said Andy.

  Sue felt her chest tightening. “What exactly did her family do?” she asked, as casually as she could manage.

  “Would you believe it, they started asking about my background!” said Andy, laughing. “For a while I thought they were looking me over as a potential son-in-law!”

  The tightness in Sue’s chest became painful. “So what happened?”

  Andy grinned. “When I told them my ancestors were farmers, not samurai, they gave up on me.”

  “I thought you were interested in Haruko,” said Sue. “You were working so hard to impress her.”

  Andy looked down at Sue, and his face became serious again. “Sue, I was never interested in her. The thing is, I can’t resist a challenge. When I saw her sneering at me, I promised myself that I would make her respect me.”

  “And she does respect you, after that yakuza business,” Sue said in a low voice. “You can be friends with her now.”

  She felt Andy’s arms go around her. “Sue, don’t tell me you’re jealous of Haruko?” he said in her ear. “Come on, you should know by now I’m crazy about you!”

  “But you and Haruko share an ancestry,” said Sue, afraid to let herself be comforted. “You seem to have so much in common with her. Things I could never understand.”

  Andy laughed softly. “After all we’ve been through with your parents and my parents, I thought we’ve agreed that ancestry doesn’t matter. To us, anyway. You know, I’m getting awfully homesick.”

  “I’m homesick, too,” whispered Sue.

  “Hey, better line up, everybody!” said Mr. Baxter. “We’re getting ready to go on!”

  The players began to shuffle around, moving into their own sections of the orchestra. Andy squeezed Sue’s hand as they parted ways and Sue joined the viola players. She exchanged smiles with her stand partner.

  When they finally walked onstage and took their places, they had to sit quietly while speeches were made. First, the principal of the Kasei School gave a long speech in Japanese. Another long speech, also in Japanese, was made by the conductor of the Kasei orchestra. Sue guessed that he was telling some funny stories about their visit to the U.S., since there were bursts of laughter from the audience.

  Then it was Mr. Baxter’s turn to speak. He had the sense to keep his speech short, knowing that not all the audience understood English. Besides, he knew that his players were fidgeting impatiently, waiting to start the concert.

  At last, Mr. Baxter finished with some graceful words of thanks to the school for their invitation. The applause continued as he turned around and faced the orchestra. He gave them a nod and raised his baton.

  Their opening number was Schubert’s Rosamunde Overture. The orchestra members got over their nervousness, and in the faster sections, they managed to bring out the humor in the piece. The audience applauded vigorously.

  Then came the Bach concerto. Sue’s heart began to beat fast as she saw Andy and his fellow soloist walk to the front of the stage. Andy’s face was somber, and Sue could tell he was suffering from a bad case of stage fright.

  A solo was always a test of the player’s nerve. Sue knew that even when Andy played a solo in the Lakeview auditorium, he felt the pressure. Now the pressure was much more intense. Andy had to prove himself in the country of his ancestors. Everybody in the audience had probably noticed that his name was Suzuki, and would be expecting a lot from him.

  During the opening section of the concerto, Sue was too busy with her own part to look at Andy. When the orchestra stopped for the entrance of the soloists, Sue turned to look at Andy again. The concertmaster had the first solo, and while he was playing, Andy relaxed slightly. By the time it was his turn, he was able to smile and bring his bow down decisively. The first movement, full of bouncy rhythm, went well.

  The second movement was the real test, however. It opened with a long, lyrical passage by the second soloist, which was Andy’s part. When the conductor raised his baton, Sue saw that Andy was gripping his bow so hard that his knuckles were white. If his nervousness made his playing shaky, the whole audience would sense his discomfort. It would ruin the movement. It would ruin the concerto. It might ruin the whole concert.

  Sue saw Andy close his eyes and take a deep breath. A sense of peace seemed to come over him. His notes, when he finally played them, were soft at first, then gradually increased in volume. They had a melting beauty that came from absolute serenity.

  Somehow, Andy had found in Japan the serenity that helped him overcome his fears.

  14

  The next morning, the Chongs took Sue back to Narita Airport by express train. As the scenery whizzed by, they talked about Sue’s experiences during her visit to Japan. She mentioned unforgettable sights, like her first view of the huge lanterns at the Asakusa Temple and the peaceful face of the Great Buddha in Kamakura. She also mentioned less pleasant things, like the suffocating heat, the humidity, and the crowds in the buses and subways. She even told the Chongs about the scary encounter with the yakuza in the pachinko parlor.

  Mrs. Chong nodded solemnly. “So, overall, what is your impression of Japan and the Japanese people?” she asked Sue.

  “Um, I don’t know what I can say after only five days here!” said Sue. She didn’t feel comfortable making a general statement about the Japanese people. From the way her mother felt about the Japanese—and the way Andy’s father felt about the Chinese—Sue knew how dangerous it was to stereotype people.

  “Well, surely you can tell me how you were treated by the Japanese,” said Mrs. Chong. “Did you feel discriminated against because you are Chinese?”

  Sue thought over her experiences. “Well, I don’t think they could tell that I’m Chinese,” she said honestly. “I look like I could be Japanese, until I speak. And then I sound American.” Then she thought of Haruko, who did kno
w she was Chinese American. “Actually, Haruko Sato—you took me to her house, you know—was much nicer to me than to Andy. And he’s Japanese American.”

  Mrs. Chong looked thoughtful. Finally she said, “Perhaps that’s because you’re a guest in her country, not someone who lives here. The Japanese are always very kind to guests.”

  Sue remembered how in the pachinko parlor, the yakuza had stopped bullying them when he learned that she was a guest from America. She couldn’t imagine gang members in America being that polite to people just because they were guests. “Then why was Haruko so mean to Andy?” she asked. “He’s a guest, too.”

  “Maybe she feels that he’s really Japanese,” Mrs. Chong speculated. “So she thinks he ought to behave like a proper Japanese boy. That would explain why she’s so unforgiving whenever he makes a mistake.”

  Sue frowned. “The Japanese discriminate against you,” she pointed out. “Aren’t you guests—even though your family came as unwilling guests?”

  It was Mr. Chong who answered. “We’re here permanently, you see. That makes us no longer guests, only a nuisance.”

  “They feel the same way about the Chinese who come here looking for work,” added Mrs. Chong. “They are no longer guests, either. Don’t Americans discriminate against immigrants from poor countries who go there looking for jobs?”

  “I guess you’re right,” Sue admitted. What she did not say was that immigrants who adapted to life in America eventually became accepted by most Americans, even if it took a while. Her own family was an example of that.

  Sue remembered the strips on the sidewalks where blind people could feel their way. She also thought of the music played at intersections. “I was impressed by how considerate the Japanese are to the handicapped,” she remarked to the Chongs. “You can hear tunes played at busy intersections downtown so a blind person can tell which street has the green light.”

  “It’s not considerate if your handicaps include having a terrible ear,” said Mrs. Chong. They laughed. “The Japanese do show a lot of compassion toward the weak and the handicapped,” agreed Mrs. Chong.

  Sue thought of the teenage boy holding a parasol over his grandmother. “They’re very considerate of the elderly here, too. In America, a lot of the elderly are stashed away in retirement communities or nursing homes. My friend Andy tells me that at the Satos’, the elderly grandfather is staying with them.”

  “There is respect for the elderly in most Asian cultures, I think,” said Mr. Chong. “You also have that among the Chinese, don’t you?”

  Sue nodded. “Especially respect for old women. Some old women in China can be pretty tough.” She thought of Grandma Mei. “In fact, I’m a little scared of facing my grandmother when I go home. She’s mad at me because my boyfriend’s family is from Japan.”

  Mrs. Chong looked curiously at Sue. “Tell me if I’m being offensive, but as a Chinese, don’t you feel uncomfortable having a Japanese boyfriend?”

  “Andy thinks of himself as Japanese American,” said Sue. “Anyway, when you really get to know someone, you forget who his ancestors are. He’s just a person.”

  “It’s easy to forget if you haven’t suffered,” murmured Mr. Chong. “Here in Tokyo, we still get reminders that we are Korean.”

  “My grandmother did suffer at the hands of the Japanese soldiers,” admitted Sue, remembering Grandma Mei’s implacable face. “And it’s true that she hasn’t forgotten.”

  Sue wondered why it seemed much harder in Japan to blend into the mainstream culture. “I guess who your ancestors are is still very important in Japan,” she said. “In America, your ancestors don’t matter so much. You’re just you. But in Japan, if your ancestors tanned leather hundreds of years ago or were samurai, you’re still affected by that now.”

  Mrs. Chong nodded. “But you are still somewhat affected by your ancestry in America, aren’t you? You preserve parts of the Chinese culture in your life. You honor what your grandmother went through.”

  Sue nodded. “Honor. I guess that’s the thing. I want to honor my grandmother’s life but still live my own, you know?”

  Mrs. Chong smiled. “You seem like a very bright girl, Sue. I’m sure you’ll find your way.” She turned to look out the window, leaving Sue with her own thoughts. Find my own way. How can I explain that to Grandma Mei?

  Suddenly Sue was impatient to get home, home to America. The train began to slow down as it approached Narita Airport, and Sue could hardly stay in her seat. She didn’t know how she would be able to stand the long flight back.

  But at the same time, she felt a pang at leaving new friends like the Chongs, and even Haruko. Also, there was so much more to see. Just comparing experiences with the other Lakeview kids made her realize that she had barely skimmed the surface of Tokyo. And there’s all the rest of Japan, too. I’ll have to come back someday—with Andy, maybe?

  Then she had another idea. Maybe someday she and Andy could visit China together! It would be a visit of self-discovery for her, just as the Tokyo trip had been a visit of self-discovery for Andy. She would be showing Andy what sort of people she came from. And she was sure that, like Andy, she would also find out how much she differed from her ancestors.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, the plane will be landing in twenty minutes. Please fasten your seat belts, put back your tray tables, and make sure your seats are in the upright position. The flight attendants will come by for your headsets and any remaining items to be discarded.”

  Sue yawned and adjusted her seat. She had taken a couple of short naps, but she still wanted to sleep uninterrupted for about a week when she got home.

  She looked at Andy, who was awake and trying to work a crossword puzzle from the in-flight magazine. “What’s a three-letter word for ‘cuckoo’?” he asked. He looked pretty groggy.

  Personally, Sue felt that he should have taken a nap, instead of watching all those movies shown after their meals. “I don’t know a three-letter word for ‘cuckoo,’ ” she said. “In fact, I don’t know of any word for ‘cuckoo’ other than ‘cuckoo.’ ”

  Andy smiled at her. He reached over and pushed her hair out of her eyes, and Sue settled her head lightly on his shoulder. The attendant came around collecting cans, cups, and other trash. Sue could feel the plane swoop and make dips as it circled to land. Now that they were almost home, her sleepiness disappeared and she was starting to feel excited. She thought about how much she had missed her parents and Rochelle. She had missed Grandma Mei a lot, too, although she knew she would still have to face her grandmother’s anger over Andy.

  Andy put the magazine back in the seat pocket, straightened his chair, and looked fixedly ahead. Sue realized that he was tense.

  Sue put her hand on his. “Why are you so uptight? You know you did great in the concert. You can relax now.”

  Andy took a deep breath, and Sue could see his visible effort to be calm. Finally he seemed to succeed. “I guess I was thinking about what I should tell my dad about the trip.”

  “What’s so hard about that?” asked Sue, puzzled. “Just tell him what happened.”

  “But it was such a mess!” said Andy, beginning to sound edgy again. “He’ll want a neat summary of how I found my roots, how I responded to the exposure to my ancestral culture, and so on. The trouble is, all I can remember are stupid things like pachinko parlors and catching goldfish with a paper scoop!”

  Sue laughed. She had met Mr. Suzuki only briefly at the parents’ meetings, and she didn’t think he would subject Andy to an examination. Her own father, being a professor, was more likely to do that. Or Grandma Mei. “You’re luckier than I am,” she told Andy. “I have to make a report to my grandmother, who will want to know about all the Japanese monsters I met.”

  For some weird reason, the mention of Grandma Mei seemed to cheer Andy up. He smiled at Sue and leaned back in his seat as the plane descended and touched the tarmac.

  Passing through immigration, waiting for their luggage, and going through c
ustoms seemed to take forever. But at last they were out. They were home!

  Sue spotted her parents and Rochelle right away. Grandma Mei wasn’t with them. Sue wasn’t sure whether that was a good thing. She ran up and was immediately engulfed in hugs and kisses. All around her, she heard cries as the other players greeted their families. When the hysterical welcomes died down a bit, they began to make their way to the parking garage.

  Sue looked around for Andy. Where was he? To her surprise, she saw that he and his parents were walking right behind her family. She was even more surprised when her mother stopped and waved to Mr. and Mrs. Suzuki. “Don’t forget to tell your son that we’re expecting him for dinner tomorrow night.”

  Sue could hardly believe her ears. Her mother was inviting Andy? Her mother, the Japanese hater? “A lot must have happened while I was away,” she said when they reached their car.

  Sue’s mother smiled at her astonishment. “You remember we met the Suzukis at the airport coffee shop when we were seeing you off?”

  Of course Sue hadn’t forgotten. Nor had she forgotten Grandma Mei’s fury when she discovered that she had actually shared a table with a Japanese family. “So what happened after we boarded the plane?” Sue asked.

  Rochelle was the one who answered. “You should have heard the fireworks! Grandma Mei accused us of setting up the whole thing, to make her eat with the Suzukis!”

  “Did you convince her that we didn’t plan it?” asked Sue.

  Rochelle laughed. “Dad was the one who finally convinced Grandma that it wasn’t a big plot, and that we met the Suzukis entirely by accident.”

  Sue turned gratefully to her father. “Thanks, Dad!” She knew her father was the person Grandma Mei respected the most. He was the only one who could calm her grandmother’s fury.

  After they got home from the airport, Rochelle filled Sue in on what had happened. “Next day Dad called Mr. Suzuki to apologize for Grandma Mei’s freak-out at the airport.”