Nuremberg Tour 3

I ponder over tea, then type:
"Dear Savitri:
"I thank you very much for your concern. I would point out that in lots of other places, news is considerably worse. Canadians have to rank among the most peaceful and tolerant of nations, a long tradition going back to the ideas of Pierre Trudeau, inventing a multicultural society.
"At this time I am unworried; however that could change. I will keep your kind offer in mind.
"Given the fact that legal name changes must be published in three consecutive issues of the Official Gazette, I would not be fooling anyone who knew how to look it up.
"There is another option, I could go to Israel. Still, that is rather like exiting the frying pan to take up residence in the fire. Besides, I would not fit, I'm just definitely not Jewish. In my view, anyhow.
"I have noticed of late a number of acquaintances are mooting around the Israel option. There seems to be some sort of ferment going on in the Israeli Embassy. They of course perennially need people, so whenever times look a little murky, they speed up the recruiting machine.
"I dismiss this pretty much as politics. Other than spray paint, when was the last time a violent act happened? For that, you need to consult archives.
"So thank you again and don't worry about me; now anyhow.
"Your best friend, Rachel"
I reread, click on send.
The phone rings, male voice, Israeli accent, obviously used to having a lot of authority, "could I speak to Rachel Goldberg?"
"Speaking."
"This is Col Nathan B, military attache of the Israeli Embassy."
"Yes Col?"
"I'm in town tomorrow and next day on a convention. Could you fit in an hour, late afternoon of either day?"
"Either day would be fine, Col."
"Good, how about 4:30 tomorrow, coffee house attached to the main branch of the public library?"
"Ok."
After I hang up, I ponder. Draft obligation? No, that only applies to residents of Israel. Recruiting people for Israel? Highly unlikely. A big shot scientist would be approached one on one. Ordinary people, it's in groups, public speakers at the JCC, Jewish Community Center.
The surname rings a bell, I check Google. Mr Ego is the son of the former general and defence minister. Father is off duty on sick leave, diagnosed with cancer.
In my knowledge a lot of Israeli men are wolves. Only sensible course of action is to dress super modestly.
I still have a dozen dresses, all nearly ankle length, left from Guyana days. All still fit, though I left at age fifteen.
After some trying on, I opt for the green floral print, it has the youngest, most innocent look. With that and hair pulled back plainly with one clasp, I look exactly like any other fourteen year old girl in Rose Hall.
I opt to arrive a few minutes early, better to pick a table in clear view.
My turn at the cashier, I order vanilla hazelnut.
The cashier, a fat Arabic looking woman, says in bored tone, "can't you read signs, pint size? This here is an adult coffee house, smoking, age eighteen and up. Now show ID or screw off."
She takes my card in hand, "this here is clearly a forgery. You are obviously German, not Jewish."
At this point, the manager, a middle aged white woman, taps her on the shoulder, "lemme see."
She looks, blushes, passes it back to me, "sorry. Your coffee is on the house. We try not to be rude here."
My original plan was to find a table near the cashier. Now I discard that, and opt for front door. A little hard for Mr Ego to try any groping, with a dozen people standing in that line.
Ten minutes later, I can tell it's him in line. In civvies, but the look is obvious. He also resembles me. Eerily so. As I put two and two together, I sense what he will say.
Without even an introduction, he sits, drily remarks, "I suppose this is your idea of looking inconspicuous?"
"Ah, the Col is a spy, to worry about such."
Laugh, "forget Col, it's Nathan. But look around you, people have already categorized us, turned back to their coffee. You guess, what floats through their minds?"
"I would assume they have decided I am a neo-hippy, not Guyanese, which is the look I was trying for. Given the resemblance, they have decided you are my father or uncle. About to tell me off for my neo-hippy ways, you being clearly a 'suit."
He laughs, "very good, could not have said it better myself. It makes the job a lot easier now. You know, don't you?"
"Before today, I didn't. Now I do."
"I'm your half brother. Here at father's request. He could not die and take the secret with him. Had to be sure you knew."
"Well Nathan, that really does explain a lot. Why they left Israel rapidly. If they'd had a little more patience, they could have dealt with Canadian Immigration. Explains their total coldness to me, complete sense of unwelcome. Explains how I'm brilliant in math and sci and both of them are hopeless."