Jimbo - 15. Rabbit, Rabbit, Rabbit

We awoke when there was a knock at our bedroom door. Our internal clocks were not used to getting us up at such an early hour. I kissed Matan on the cheek and said, “Rabbit, rabbit, rabbit,” which was always said at home on birthdays.

Matan laughed and asked what that meant.

“I don’t know but you have to say rabbit three times to wish someone good luck.

“Or what, the boogey man comes?”

“No, the big bad wolf comes and eats you.” At that point I leaned into Mason and gave him a kiss on his smacker.

“Happy birthday, man of my heart. I love you……rabbit, rabbit, rabbit.”

We giggled until we heard Herbert call out that our breakfast was getting cold.

We were in our pajamas as we walked into the kitchen. Herbert and Judy were already dressed and ready to head out to work. Judy handed us a schedule for the day and told us that someone would be by to pick us up. I looked at the sheet of paper and saw that we were booked on the hour all morning. Some things had been crossed off and lunch at the Jenner’s apartment was inked in. Our visit to the Chief Rabbi’s office was also inked in.

I was pulling my croissant apart and smearing it with butter and jam when Herbert said he had to leave for the day. He thanked me again for bringing the envelope of letters. “I read my letter and what you have brought it very important for Israel. Thank you.” With that, he walked out of the door.

Judy reached over and held my left hand with my ring. She smiled and said it was good that Matan and I had found each other. “Herbert and I were your age when we met. We were both in London. Somehow, we had both survived the war and I had been accepted to go to school in England. I didn’t trust people in London because no one could believe what had happened in Europe. We couldn’t believe the atrocities either even after seeing the pictures. The immensity.” At that point, her eyes filled with tears and she left the room.

We heard her come out of the bathroom and head to the apartment door. She stood there, out of sight, and told us to have a good morning and that she would see us at lunchtime. We called out the same to her and then we heard the door close.

“It is too much for them, even now. Come, we don’t have much time before our driver arrives and my guess is he will keep us on schedule.”

“Who developed this schedule?”

Matan looked at me like I had three heads, he then shrugged his shoulders and laughed. “Who knows? Them. Those people. Those unknown people who are directing our lives. Our job is to do these things, not to ask questions.” He had levity in his voice but there was an undercurrent of seriousness.

We hurried into the one bathroom in the apartment and filled the tub with water. I slid into the tub and then Matan positioned himself on top of me. I immediately had a raging erection. I could hear Matan chuckle. He slid down on me as I hissed a thank you. He leaned his back against my chest and my hands wrapped around his torso. I kissed his neck. Sighs of contentment came from both of us. I saw his penis pushing up through the suds. It was so erotic and we had so little time. My hand started pumping him and he let out a strangled cry as he shot a huge load into the tub. That was all I needed to release. My body jerked and I filled him. We both slumped in satisfaction.

We climbed out of the tub and let the water drain while we cleaned our teeth, shaved and I combed my hair. He let his wild mane dry on its own. The bruising on his face was much reduced and his torn lip was healing nicely. He didn’t look like he had just been in a bar room brawl. We wiped down the tub to remove any evidence of our erotic bathroom foray.

Matan constantly looked at magazines to stay current on culture and had put together a wardrobe for us that didn’t identify us as ‘ugly Americans’. At home, we were generally prepped out so it was hard for him to find clothes that were a bit more continental. I balked when he picked out my outfit for the day. He was the cultural enforcer and made me put on the outfit. Not clothes but an outfit. When he put the silk square in the breast pocket of my jacket it took all of my restraint not to pull it out. I thought of the British dandy. He then pulled a leather portfolio from his suitcase and told me to keep all of our paperwork in it for the day. I was feeling out of place. I just wanted to blend in and not be conspicuous. He grabbed my hand.

“Do you trust me?”

“With my life.”

“Then, let me say that you look tres chic and will be the envy of everyone wherever we go today.”

Our driver, Amit, arrived and gave us an appraising look. He then smiled and said we looked like young Frenchmen. Matan laughed and spoke to Amit in French. They immediately became bon ami. There was another knock at the door and Black and Green appeared.

“Ahhh, look at the two of you. Green, our American boys have disappeared and now we have these French garcons to protect. Let’s go, messieurs.”

Matan handed me a pair of sunglasses that completed my look. They were not my usual aviators. They were black frames but not Wayfarers. They had a certain style that was unfamiliar to me.

“They are Italian. Don’t ask.” Matan smiled as he adjusted my necktie.

We left the apartment and headed to the Musee d’art et d’histoire du Jadaisme in the 4^th Androissment. Amit called it the MahJ. Black reached into his coat pocket and pulled out his yarmulke and put it on his head. We did the same. We entered the museum and Amit spoke to a security guard. A telephone call was made and a handsome young man approached us. Introductions were made and then he focused on Matan. They spoke briefly and then Matan approached me.

“Yonatan, I need to meet with some people. Why don’t you explore the museum?”

I nodded my head.

“I won’t be long, I promise. There are people with whom I am supposed to meet.”

I touched Matan’s hand and he pushed into me and gave me a kiss in front of everyone. He laughed and I had a silly grin on my face. He knew how to relieve my tension. Black gently guided me further into the museum and started interpreting for me. He was a good tour guide. I was starting to make sense of what I was viewing.

Amit appeared by our side and spoke to Black. Black then looked at me and said our tour was ending early because Matan had another appointment. I pulled out the schedule but Black told me that things had changed. We entered the lobby and I saw Matan standing with Green. His smile brightened the entire space.

“Sorry to hurry you, but I have another meeting. It is a spur of the moment thing.” He grabbed my hand and pulled me to the exit.

Amit pulled the car around and we all crammed in. Amit put a placard on the front dashboard and off we went. I could see bits of Paris from the windows. I wanted to see more. I could have ridden up and down the Champs-Elysees all day. We turned onto a boulevard. I gasped as the view was spectacular. Amit pulled the car into an alley and we reached a gate. A security guard looked into the car and asked for our documents. Matan handed him our Israeli passports. He looked intensely at us, then at our passports, handed them back, nodded his head and then opened the gate for us to pass. We dipped into an underground parking area. Amit parked the car and we walked up to an employee entrance. We entered and then a security guard searched us and our belongings. I didn’t know where we were but it was heavily guarded.

“Come, talk to me, Yonatan.”

Matan and I walked into a corner and he held my hands. He employed the same technique I had seen him use with others who approached him. He looked directly in my eyes. His eyes were dancing with delight.

“Someone is going to take you and Black on a short, amazing tour. Green will go with me. This is unbelievable. Okay?”

“Yep. Can you tell me where we are?”

“You don’t recognize the Louvre?”

My mouth dropped open. We had entered from a side street and we had not seen the front plaza.

A security guard came up and asked Matan to follow him. Green dutifully walked behind. Another security guard came up and led Black and me through a door and then we were under the Pei pyramid. My eyes couldn’t process everything I was seeing. I turned 360 degrees.

“Yonatan, close your mouth. You are gaping.” Black whispered in my ear.

The security guard spoke in French to Black who translated for me. There was no way we could see everything even if we had a week. We briskly moved through galleries until we reached some of the more well-known treasures. The security guard would then give me time to view the works. It was just prior to opening time for the day and the guard apologized for hurrying us but said that once the doors opened it would be practically impossible to see some of the art. I was astounded by the breadth of the art displayed. I knew this was just a small portion of their collection. Like many museums, most of the collection was in storage due to a lack of exhibit space. All of a sudden, there was a systematic lighting of the galleries. The spaces filled with people. It was easy to pick out the Americans. I was appreciative that Matan had dressed us in a European style. If I only knew the language, I could have passed but when my mouth opened everyone heard my southern accent. I listened to people speaking many languages. Standing in the midst of this cacophony I decided I was going to learn Hebrew and then Russian and whatever else was needed. Probably French and German. I had always been ambitious. I was like a fish being reeled in. The hook had already set in my cheek and the line was being pulled as I moved into this new way of being. I stood taller, pushed my shoulders back and took on an air of insouciance. I didn’t want the world to see how gob-smacked I truly was. I was enjoying the sensation of being in the Louvre. This visit had not appeared on any of the information about our trip.

Someone approached me from the back.

“Pardonnez-moi, monsieur, comment ca va?”

I turned and Matan was standing there in all of his glory. He was radiant. He just nodded his head, grinned, and tugged at my hands. We were like matching bobble head dolls while looking at each other. I did not have language to describe what was happening and how I was feeling. I doubted that the English language had the words I was searching for. Perhaps Matan and I needed to develop our own language.

We instinctively reached out for each other and hugged. When I looked up, I noticed that some people were not looking kindly at us. In fact, there were some people scowling at us. Was it because we were two men hugging or was it because we were wearing our yarmulkes? I didn’t know. Black and Green were by our sides immediately. The museum security guard looked at the people and under his breath called them swine. He turned to us and smiled.

“You are under my protection and I am so glad that you are here today. Messieurs Ward and Jenner, it is our honor to have you esteemed gentlemen at the museum. May I show you my favorite sculpture in the Louvre?”

Of course, we said yes. We thought it odd that a security guard had a favorite sculpture he wanted to show us but who were we to question him.

He moved us through the museum and then we were in front of a sculpture of Diana of Versailles. Diana was standing with a deer.

“Messieurs, this is a Roman copy of a Greek sculpture. I come here to look at Madam and it brings such peace to my life. I think it is the deer. I consider them to have special powers in our lives. It may sound foolish, but I feel like I am under their special protection. I apologize, but I felt it was important that I share this with you. I felt in my heart that you needed to see this.”

We were dumbfounded that his favorite sculpture was of our protective animal.

“What else would you like to see?”

Matan wanted to see the Mona Lisa. Ha! Everyone wanted to see the Mona Lisa. Just like that, two additional security guards joined us and formed a cordon as we were escorted through the galleries. We acted every inch the important dignitaries that people supposed us to be. We approached the Mona Lisa and the security guards were prepared to move people aside so that we could see the painting up close. Matan spoke to them and we waited our turn. He said that all of these people had paid admission fees and we should not shunt them aside. A smile crossed the faces of the guards who appreciated that Matan was so gracious and kind. We spent a little more time than most people looking at the painting. The cabal behind us was getting restless. Matan turned and, speaking French, apologized for taking the time and wished them well. He had opened his arms in an inviting way. Several of them bowed their heads at we walked off. I heard someone ask who we were. A woman responded that she didn’t know but we were obviously very important people. I chuckled inwardly.

Our security guard led us back to the employee entrance.

“It was my great privilege to be with you today. We get many important persons but today was very special in my life. I can’t wait to tell my partner about the two of you when I get home tonight. He will be very excited.” He then handed us a postcard of the sculpture of Diana. It was a little battered and had been laminated.

“I carry this with me because I think it is a talisman. It has worked for me. I always feel safe when Diana and the stag are with me. I would be humbled if you would accept this as a gift even though it is somewhat battered.”

We hugged the security guard and thanked him.

The morning had passed and Amit drove us back to the apartment but not before circling the Eiffel Tower. Amit parked the car and as we were getting out, we were greeted by Ayal, Zeke and Tim. They were carrying brightly wrapped packages.

“Someone has a birthday and we are here to party!” Zeke was full of himself.

We climbed the steps to the apartment and saw that the door had been decorated. Matan pulled out a key to open the door when I took the key from his hand and then knocked. We waited. The door opened and his parents were standing there holding a birthday cake. The candles were glowing and we all sang Happy Birthday while standing in the foyer to the apartment. Judy led us to the dining room where she had arranged for a catered luncheon. We moved chairs until we were all sitting in the salon. Our plates were on our laps. The food was delicious; definitely not a southern pig-pickin. There was a pitcher of sweet tea as well as sparkling waters and wine. The tea was for me.

Then it was time to cut the cake, Judy cut three slices and set them aside for later in the day. We were enjoying the yellow cake with chocolate frosting when Herbert asked about our morning.

“Well papa, when we got to MahJ, I was taken to meet with the administrator. We had a nice chat. He had just returned from Vienna and wanted to show me slides of some new acquisitions for the museum. I questioned the authenticity of one of the paintings. He stared at me. I felt foolish thinking I was just an upstart American boy who was challenging some of the world’s experts. He then called in his curator of paintings and the administrator asked me to tell her what I had said. I did and gave my reasoning. Her mouth fell open and said that I should travel to Vienna with her to see the painting. She said that I had made a valid argument and she valued my expert opinion. I told her I was hardly an expert and that we didn’t have time to go to Vienna this trip. I cautioned them about closing the deal until they had another opinion on the painting. The administrator said he trusted me and would challenge the gallery in Vienna to show proof of the provenance.”

Everyone nodded their heads. There was silence as Matan spoke.

“The administrator made a telephone call and then told me that there was a curator at the Louvre who wanted to meet with me. Can you believe it? Anyway, Yonatan got a tour of some of the galleries while I met with a curator. We looked at several paintings. Three were very good but the fourth I called a fake. At that point, the curator challenged my statement. The more I explained the more he nodded his head. He then smiled and said I knew what I was talking about. He had planted the fake to see if I could identify it. It was a very good fake, but a fake nonetheless. I then met with Yonatan and we got to see the Mona Lisa. I got to see the Mona Lisa! It was humbling, papa. To think about DaVinci is humbling. He was a great man, papa.”

Nobody moved. They were intent on listening to Matan. We sat in silence.

“Who wants more cake?” Matan jumped up and headed to the dining room. The spell was broken.

“Matan, you will make yourself sick. You will have another slice when you meet with the Chief Rabbi this afternoon. Too much, too much.”

“Oh mama, it is my birthday. Please let me have another slice.” The boy was back. I stood and moved behind Matan. He looked at me and smiled.

“Matan, we can share a slice. I don’t want you to get sick. I have other thinks planned for your birthday.” He grinned and told me couldn’t wait. “And, you need to open presents.”

“Yeah, presents!” That broke the mood and everyone was laughing.

Ayal and Zeke pushed their package forth. Matan took his time opening it. We all oohed and ahhhed when we saw it was from Hermes. It was a beautiful cobalt blue leather agenda cover. The craftsmanship was exquisite.

“Now that you are a professional, it is only fitting that you have a portfolio to carry paperwork to meetings. People will be very jealous so don’t leave it sitting around or it may disappear. Of course, you are not like a lawyer who is only allowed to have black, Zeke thought you would love the blue.”

I wondered at the cost and whether, like the dinner in Norfolk, it was just added onto the account. I then thought I should not be so cynical.

Tim handed over a small package. It was from Coach and contained a leather wallet in cobalt blue. More oohs and ahhhs. I noticed that Black nodded his head toward Tim and a smile swept across his face.

Judy and Herbert gave Matan a beautifully wrapped package. It was from the MahJ. Inside was a book from a MahJ exhibit on ancient Hebrew manuscripts. The book was signed and there was a note from the author inviting Matan and me to dinner on Wednesday night at his home. The author had included a guest list of those to be in attendance. Matan knew all of the names and was stunned that we would be in such esteemed company.

I was the last to hand over a present. My hands had turned into all thumbs as I had tried to wrap the box. The wrapping wasn’t beautiful like the other gifts. Under the wrapping paper was a Tiffany blue box. Matan’s eyes grew large. Herbert frowned. Judy and the guys were agog. Matan opened the lid and gently lifted tissue paper. He burst out crying. I was standing behind him and put my hands on his shoulders. In the silver frame was a picture of Matan and me when he was inducted into the Order of the Arrow. The date was engraved across the lower portion of the frame. The picture wasn’t the best as it was night time at Camp Falls. The bonfire was in the background yet there Matan stood in his loin cloth with the dancing stag on the front. His sash was across this chest. His eyes were bright but set in the smoky charcoal shading he had used on his lids. It was taken at the moment he leaned back into me during the ceremony. My hand was on his hip holding him. I stood behind him with the brave’s feather on my head and the charcoal stripes on my cheeks. I had the look of someone who had just discovered love.

Matan handed the picture off to his mother, turned around and jumped into my arms. He kissed me and I blushed. We were in his parent’s apartment with all of these people, after all. I explained the significance of the picture to everyone. It was the night we fell in love. I didn’t tell them it was also the night we first made love. They admired the picture and the frame but didn’t fully comprehend the import it had for Matan and me.

I then handed a wrapped package to Judy and told her I had a smaller version made for she and Herbert. She immediately opened the package and set the picture on a table. She said it was the only picture they had of the two of us.

Matan thanked everyone and said it was a wonderful birthday.

Herbert stood and said he needed to get back to the office and that Matan and I were to join him. Ayal, Zeke and Tim said they were going to the Tuileries. We agreed on a time for a late dinner. It was decided that they did not need to travel with us to the Chief Rabbi’s office.

Black and Green said we would walk to the law office. Herbert led us and pointed out the architecture of buildings and told us of the history of the Jewish people in the Marais. We were quite a sight. Herbert, though in his early fifties, was bent and walked like an elderly man. He was wearing a dark grey suit and had on a black tie. He carried a cane which he used as a pointer but also to steady his gait. Green walked beside him. Black walked behind us. Matan and I were still in our outfits from the morning. Black and Green were in their black suits wearing aviator sunglasses.

We entered a Beaux Arts building and took the elevator to the fourth floor. The interior was as ornate as the exterior. We followed Herbert to his office which has been stripped of all extraneous ornamentation. His partner’s desk sat in the middle of the room. There were neat stacks of documents covering half of the desk top. Herbert said this was where he worked. We motioned for us to sit. He said he needed a simple space to work and it had taken a lot of convincing for them to provide what he wanted.

We sat in silence for a few minutes. Herbert kept looking at his watch. The intercom finally buzzed and he told a secretary to bring the next person in. The next person was Mr. Cohen. We all rose and shook his hand. I noticed how he barely acknowledged Black. After Mr. Cohen settled, Black and Green left the office and let us know they would wait outside. Again, there was silence.

“Herbert, you asked that I come meet with you. I am here.”

Matan’s father stared into the middle distance and nodded his head.

“Mr. Cohen, tell me, is everything set for Matan and Yonatan?”

Mr. Cohen squinted his eyes and looked at Mr. Jenner.

“Well, our firm did as you asked and we have everything put into place.”

Again, there was silence.

“Is everything set for Judy?”

Mr. Cohen gave him a quizzical look and said that they had received requests and carried them out.

“Just so I am clear, I want everything taken care of for Matan and Yonatan. Are there any problems?”

“I will be honest and say that everything you asked we accomplished. Moving forward, I foresee challenges as these young men grow and mature. They may not like what has been set up for them. I can see clashes in the future.”

Herbert looked at Matan and then at me.

“What kind of clashes? Elaborate for me. Legal clashes? What do you mean?”

Mr. Cohen sighed and then told Herbert that I was pushing back and wanting to take control of certain aspects of our lives.”

Herbert looked at me and was silent.

“Remind me, how old are you today, Matan?”

“I turned seventeen today, papa.”

“And, Yonatan, how old are you?”

“I am eighteen and will have a birthday in February.”

Herbert nodded his head and rubbed his chin.

“Four years until Matan turns 21. A little over two years until Yonatan turns 21. Are you able to deal with these young men until then, Mr. Cohen?”

“I believe we have the staff and controls in place for that length of time.”

Again, Herbert nodded his head and rubbed his chin. He then looked deeply into my eyes.

“You are too free with money, Yonatan. I need for you to be a miser. I need for you to know that nothing is given and we never know when our lives might change. You need to be able to move about the world freely. Be frugal. Be ready for the next Kristallnacht. If you are to become a Jew you will learn these things. Look at these fancy clothes you are wearing. I bet you gave Matan your credit card and told him to buy what you needed for this trip.”

He had guessed correctly.

“What is going on, papa?”

“I just want to make sure you have a comfortable future, my son. Now I need to ask: when I am getting grandchildren?”

“Grandchildren? We are two men, papa.”

“I can see. I can see you are two men.”

Herbert looked at me.

“Yonatan. It is important for us to have grandchildren. You and Matan need children. Do you understand? No, of course you don’t understand. How could you?”

He paused and then instructed me to talk with Judy. “She will know how to make things right. The house in Virginia is big enough for you to start a family. Judy and I will not be returning. Our work is in Paris. You will start a family before you go to Harvard. Promise me that you will start a family before you go to Harvard. Right, Mr. Cohen?”

Mr. Cohen nodded his head. He was probably already preparing for more push back from me.

“Take the house and make it yours. But don’t spend money, Yonatan. You like to spend money. I understand you are sleeping in the guest room. Take the room that Judy and I shared for these many blessed years and make it yours. Mr. Cohen will arrange to have our personal belongings shipped to Paris. The house is all girly because Judy wanted it that way. Turn it into your home. Perhaps you like girly…………how would I know. I don’t know much of anything anymore. People keep things from me. Yonatan, I don’t want you to keep things from me.”

Herbert stared at me. I swallowed and nodded at him.

Herbert then turned to Mr. Cohen and asked if he had understood everything. Mr. Cohen said he had.

I certainly hadn’t.

Herbert told us we had other people to meet within the office.

We stood and exited Herbert’s office. He said he would be working late and would meet us at the cafe for dinner.

The office staff knew it was Matan’s birthday and had a cake for him. We went to the staff area and they sang a birthday song for him. Matan received many kisses on the cheek from both the men and women. The women would pinch his cheek and tell him how handsome he was. A young man walked up to me and whispered about being jealous because Matan was so beautiful. I couldn’t be offended because the man was only affirming what we all knew.

After eating yellow cake with chocolate frosting and drinking coffee all of the workers headed back to their offices. Mr. Cohen bid us goodbye and said he needed to meet with Green and Black. Matan met with lawyers who represented art dealers and collectors. They had a discussion about reparations and stolen art. I met with a team about family law and the differences between Common law and Napoleonic law. It was a short course on the specifics about emigration and adoption. They asked if I had studied family law regarding gay families. I admitted that I had not. An older gentleman nodded his head and suggested it might be an area where I could build some international expertise. It was obvious that when the gentlemen spoke others listened closely. He suggested setting up a meeting with Baroness Deech from England who was focusing on family rights under Common law. I told him that I would be happy to meet with whomever he thought would be helpful. The conversation had been slow even thought they were all speaking in English. Given their French accents I sometimes would not understand and ask them to repeat certain things. At the end of the meeting, the older gentleman asked me to come into his office. It was a grand suite overlooking the street. He said that Matan would be joining us momentarily. When Matan entered he looked a little bewildered that he had been invited into the meeting.

“Messieurs, thank you for being so agreeable to meet with me.”

We nodded our heads and told him it was nice to meet him.

“May I provide you with confidential information?”

We agreed. He sat back in his chair, turned his head to look out the window. He stared out the windows for a couple of minutes and then turned back to us. He had tears in his eyes.

“You see, I am a homosexual. I am a gay, as you call it.” He pulled up his coat sleeve and then unbuttoned his shirt cuff. He slid it up his arm and we saw the numbers. We both sucked in air.

“Most people believe I was sent to concentration camps because I was Jewish. The truth is I was sent because I was found having sex with another boy. I guess we were men, but it was so long ago it feels like we were only boys. After the war, I, like many others scrambled to find food, find housing, find a job. I was bright and was offered a position in university. I took it. The longer the time passed after the war, and the higher I rose in the office the less I was willing to admit why I had been sent away. There were those who read the Nazi records and discovered the real reason. I never had a boyfriend because I knew it would be the end to my legal career. I could say the Nazi’s made up the reason because that happened with many people. They would believe me as long as there were no suspicions about what I was doing. I made sure that nothing happened so there was no chatter. I am an old man now and have nothing to lose. Yonatan, I would like for you to study family law. I would like for you to focus on gay families. The firm will support your work. Your Mr. Cohen and Herbert will balk because he wants you to focus on tax law. From what I understand you are not a financial wizard.” He chuckled. “We can’t be experts in everything but I know your heart. I know that you care deeply about people. You care deeply about injustice. I would like for you to be a pioneer in this field of law.”

I thought about diplomacy. This man had just bared his soul to us. He saw us as the future. In his own way, he wanted to pass the torch to me.

“Monsieur Lambert, thank you for trusting us. We are honored that you have chosen us to tell your story. I am humbled by what has happened to you and yet you persisted and endured. You have had a great legal career. Can I work with you on this? I need time to think on this. I am just a neophyte and want to make sure that I am able to carry forth your desire in a manner that meets with esteem. There may be others who are better equipped. I would hate to disappoint you.”

We looked at each other. He smiled and said, “You gave the beginning of a persuasive argument of why I should hire you as an intern for next summer. I will teach you how to do it better. Let me know your start date and how long you and Matan will be here for the summer. I have a large home in the 6th Androissment, also known as Saint-Germaine-des-Pres that I would like to share with you next summer. The Jenner’s apartment is lovely though it is small. Do we have an agreement?”

“We have an agreement that we will work to see if we can get to that end. Yes sir.”

He smiled and said that wasn’t a firm commitment and I said it was the best I could do at the time. He walked around the desk and hugged both Matan and me. We walked out of his office and he took us to meet his secretary. He told her that I would be an intern next summer and to start the paperwork. We both laughed and I told him I would be in Paris by June 1^st.

Matan looked at me, “What just happened?”

“I don’t know but it seems that I have an offer for an internship.”

“Well, I have an offer from MahJ for an internship for next summer.”

Using my best southern accent, I said, “well butter my butt and call me a biscuit.”

“Who is buttering whose butt?” Green stood behind us grinning.

We all burst into laughter and then Black and Green led us back to the apartment. We arrived and the place was quiet. We took the plate with three slices of cake and headed to the Chief Rabbi’s office.

Like the day before, we were the last ones seen.

“Ahhh, you brought cake. Bring it over here so we can enjoy your seventeenth year. What an amazing age you are. There is so much ahead of you.”

Three glasses of a ruby wine were sitting on his desk. We divided the cake between plates, said a blessing and then started eating. I was flying high from the sugar overload.

“Please tell your mother that she honors me with this cake. So many people bring me a cake made by a professional baker. They are good but not of the hands of my people. By making this cake, she has shown her devotion to God and his people.” He nodded his head. “It is also helpful that she is an excellent cook.” We all laughed.

After finishing the cake, the Rabbi asked us to tell him about our day. Matan started and relayed what all had occurred. The Rabbi would nod and ask a cogent question and then nod again. The two of them had a discussion once Matan finished.

The Rabbi looked at me and said he understood that I had a very important meeting at the Louvre. I looked at him inquisitively.

“You saw people for who they really were. You heard the many languages in one space. Sometimes I think of the Tower of Babel. You saw love and then you saw hate when you and Matan hugged. Yes? Did I get that right?”

I told him that I saw hate in people’s eyes in a way I had never seen it before.

“I don’t mean to offend, Yonatan, but you are a privileged person in your culture. If you had been alive in Germany in the 1930s, you would have been the prototype for the Hitler Youth Movement. You are blond haired, blue eyed, muscular, and handsome. Yes, they would have recruited you. You, very well, would have been one of the Nazis who killed the Jews.

I had a sharp intake of breath.

“Except for one thing. You have a Jewish heart and soul. You care deeply about people. You and Matan both are gracious and kind to others regardless of their circumstances. You are what we call a mensch. You are perhaps too soft hearted because you have been hurt so badly in your life. That gives you compassion but you also an edge. Here, pull your chairs beside me. We need to talk.” He laughed and said, “Perhaps I need to talk and you need to listen.”

We spent the next hour listening to him. Some of what he said resonated deeply within me and he said other things that I didn’t understand. He would smile when I would give him the odd look. He would say, “In time, Yonatan, all things will be revealed in time.” Matan sat and sagely nodded his head. When the Rabbi would say something specific for Matan to hear and understand he would speak in French. I would ask Matan about it later and he would only say it was nothing important.

Like the night before, when we left his office it was dark outside. There was a birthday dinner planned at a small café. Black and Green took us directly there. It was a glorious evening sitting outside. Judy and Herbert cuddled and it was easy to see that they were kindred souls. Matan tucked into my shoulder and I could feel the love emanating from us. I looked up and saw five people looking at us with smiles on their faces. Ayal and Zeke were a couple. Tim and Black were in the blossoming stages of love. And Green……I couldn’t figure him out. We only met him the day we flew to Paris. In time, in time, I would have him figured out also. We were amongst our people and it felt like home to me. This was a family we were making. All felt right with the world. Rabbit, rabbit, rabbit.