Well, I was not sure what next to share about Fishing for Light. And then, as if by magic the attached article appeared from the Washington Examiner. What is the old saying, ‘truth is stranger than fiction’? I suspect the Millennial Generation might think it hard to believe that the United States built internment camps, but, under the Roosevelt Administration, they did. In Fishing for Light, Professor Quan’s father was shot dead trying to escape from the Jerome War Relocation Center. If you do a brief internet search, I think you’ll find that the facility actually existed.
Back in 1962, exactly three weeks later, decades before the time of Edward, at precisely noon within the busy Department of Defense cafeteria, Professor Quan sat directly across from Captain Lovins. Within his rectangular lunch tray set a paper cup full of water and a wrapped whole-wheat club sandwich on a hard plastic plate.
“So, tell me what you learned,” Professor Quan said. He appeared a bit heavier. He wore a baby blue bowtie. He slid his black framed glasses back up his nose. In front of him, set a six inch square box topped with a golden bow.
“Pardon?” Captain Lovins said. He studied the ruddy, pock marketed face. “Weird, your voice is the same, but-“
“It’s me, I’ll show you how, but later,” Professor Quan said. He put his hands up. “But first, I want you to carefully examine my face. Do I look real? And I want to know what you learned about me. A man like you would always do a complete background check, you would not miss any detail.”
Captain Lovins closely scrutinized Professor Quan’s face.
“I’ve only heard rumors,” Captain said. He pointed at the box. “What’s up with this?”
“I’ll explain, but first tell me,” Professor Quan said.
Captain Lovins shrugged.
“Assuming this is you, well, you were born in Miami, January 30, 1932, a leap year, your father was named, Pi Dong, your mother was Maria Lopez Delores. Your father was a Japanese spy, your mother, a Luddite, a South American separatist movement.”
“Anarchists at heart,” Professor Quan said. He grinned.
“Well, the Hoover boys detected your mother after she tried to get free healthcare for some illegal orange pickers. They caught you all in the Florida Straits trying to escape to Cuba on a raft shaped like a swastika,” Captain Lovins said.
“That was not a pleasant day, it was a left handed swastika,” Professor Quan said. He sighed. “Helicopters, speedboats, my father was a Hindu. He thought the shape would give us luck. My mother was a Catholic, but didn’t practice since the Jesuits wouldn’t welcome her into their order, not the nun type.”
Captain Lovins scratched his clean-shaven, square chin.
“He was shot dead in 1942 trying to escape from the Jerome War Relocation Center,” Captain Lovins said. He tapped the table with his forefinger. “They deported your mother to Cuba. We sure like to wear a white hat, but I wonder.”
Professor Quan adjusted his black framed glasses.
“She was a rather passionate woman,” Professor Quan said. He sighed. “I never saw them again, just figured they were dead.”
“Yeah, but the government decided to keep you, as a prized brain washable pet,” Captain Lovins said. He shook his head. “190 IQ, not bad for a little kid, they justified keeping you using US v. Wong Kim Ark and the Fourteenth Amendment, but they always have excuses for what they want, now don’t they?”
“Then, you learned about Briar Hill?” Professor Quan asked.
“Orphanage for smart kids?” Captain Lovins said. He chuckled.
“I suppose,” Professor Quan said. He drank some water. “It was a secret science school, trained me to be a scientist. I guess I’m used to being alone, it can be an advantage.”