Mismatch by Lensey Namioka Page B

speaker, an expert on fifteenth-century Flemish art, which of course is my own specialty. After the talk, the department gave a dinner party for the speaker at a local restaurant. I decided to attend because I wanted a chance to talk some more with the speaker. To my surprise, Hasegawa was also at the dinner. In fact, we were seated next to each other at the table.”
    “They probably thought you were close friends, since you were both Asians,” muttered Sue’s mother. For once Sue didn’t think her mother was exaggerating.
    “We started talking,” continued her father. “I soon found out that he was also interested in Flemish art, although he specialized in a slightly later period. In fact, we shared quite a few interests.”
    “But you didn’t invite him home,” murmured Sue.
    Her father glanced briefly at her mother. “No,” he said. “But after that, I began to drop by his office to chat whenever he was on campus. He also came to my office a few times, and eventually, we started going to the campus cafeteria for an occasional afternoon snack.”
    Sue wanted to smile. She was picturing her father and Professor Hasegawa sneaking off for a bite at Hero’s.
    Her father continued. “I forget how we got on the subject of wars. Probably it started when we discussed the looting of European art by the Nazis. I talked about how destructive wars were.”
    Sue glanced over at her mother. She knew how fiercely opposed to war her mother was, and that she had taken part in many antiwar demonstrations. On a couple of occasions she had even taken Rochelle and Sue along. She stopped doing that when the girls had been almost trampled underfoot in one of the demonstrations that had gotten out of hand. Her mother’s antiwar activities had stirred Sue’s interest in the history of warfare.
    “So I told Hasegawa about my wife taking part in antiwar movements,” her father went on. “When I said this, I noticed that Hasegawa’s face became rigid. It was obviously an extremely painful subject for him. Finally he asked me whether my wife had ever been arrested, and when I told him that she had not, the conversation ended.”
    “Why was it painful for him?” asked Sue’s mother. Her voice came out a little husky, and she had to clear her throat. “Did he tell you?”
    “Not that day, nor the next,” replied Sue’s father. “But a week later, he came to my office and told me his story. When he was a college student in Japan, he spoke out openly against the militaristic actions of the army, and against the invasion of China. Some of his neighbors reported his remarks to the authorities, and Hasegawa was arrested.”
    “I guess I was luckier,” Sue’s mother said softly.
    “You were
much
luckier,” said Sue’s father. “Hasegawa was released at the end of the war, but his health never fully recovered from the harsh prison conditions. He later immigrated to America, because he could not bear to live in the same place as the neighbors who had informed on him.”
    There was a long silence. Then Sue’s father spoke again. “Hasegawa also told me that he was not alone in opposing the actions of the Japanese government. There were many people who felt as he did, but the ones who spoke out wound up in prison.”
    “But surely it wasn’t a secret that there were people opposed to the war?” asked Sue’s mother.
    “You should know better than anybody that governments don’t always listen to protesters.”
    “What happened to him after he moved to America?” asked Sue.
    “He continued his education at an American university, and after he got his degree, he found a teaching job, got married, and raised a family here.”
    “Sounds like a happy ending,” said Rochelle. “Maybe it’s not too late to invite Professor Hasegawa to our house.”
    “I’m afraid it
is
too late,” replied her father. “Professor Hasegawa died last year.”
    Sue saw the keen regret on her father’s face, and she felt the same way. If