I hurried into shul with a bag full of groceries. Rabbi Shayerman trusted me, but the policy was very strict that he had to check everything in. I wanted to be able to start working on the kiddush before he got caught up with his ‘pizza and parsha’ class for youth.

It only took the rabbi a minute to find all the hechshers. He grabbed a stack of napkins and paper plates and headed to the social hall, and I started chopping green onions for the tuna salad. Then Shalzed called.

“Why is President Trump withdrawing the United States from international organizations?” he asked. “They are all places for countries to resolve disputes and work together.”

I hadn’t heard anything about this, but it did sound like something Trump would do. “What organizations?” I asked.

“About half are connected to the United Nations,” he said. “And the United Nations is the primary body you use to keep peace and security on your planet.”

Before I could say anything else, I was in the dark tunnel with points of light that by now had become familiar. This time I tried to listen as best I could for any sounds that would give information about how it worked. I didn’t hear anything like motion or machinery, though, and a moment later I was standing next to Shalzed in the office of Marco Rubio at Foggy Bottom.

Rubio was sitting behind an enormous, wood desk, looking at his computer. “Mr. Secretary,” Shalzed began. “Why are you trying to undermine the United Nations?”

Rubio looked up and wrinkled his forehead. “Where have I seen you two before?” he asked.

Just a week ago Shalzed had taken me to Mar-a-Lago to confront Rubio about the U.S. nabbing Maduro out of Venezuela. “We travel a lot,” I told him.

“I don’t know how you got in here, and I have a meeting in just a moment,” Rubio said. “But no, the United States is absolutely not trying to undermine the United Nations.”

Shalzed put his hands on his hips. “You just announced that you’re withdrawing from 31 UN organizations, and a bunch of other non-UN organizations too.” he said.

Rubio shook his head. “The United States strongly believes in the United Nations. But only as a forum for diplomacy. Why does the UN have dozens of little agencies, most of which are redundant, wasteful, and counter to our interests?”

“Does that mean you’re upset other countries don’t always go along and give the United States everything it wants?” I asked.

Rubio closed his laptop and crossed his arms against this chest. “Absolutely not. Take for example the UN Democracy Fund. It just gave money for a program that it claims helps youth in Argentina strengthen their critical thinking. And they sponsored a program to increase women’s political participation in Baluchistan.”

“Baluchistan?” I interjected.

“It’s a region in Pakistan,” Rubio said quickly. “The point is that these are things that if wanted, countries should do them on their own. The UN was never meant to have billions of dollars to spend on do-gooder projects wherever they please.”

“But maybe these projects are valuable?” Shalzed suggested.

Rubio shrugged. “Maybe. But the UN should be only the General Assembly and Security Council. It shouldn’t try to do the job of its member states, and when it does it’s an affront to states’ sovereignty besides.”

A man I didn’t recognize wearing a beige suit and striped tie entered the office. He had a senate pin on his suit jacket and was wearing a VIP badge around his neck. “Thanks for taking the time,” he said, striding over to Rubio’s desk. “Great work on cutting us out of 66 agencies, but I wish you had pulled out of a few more.”

Rubio stood up to shake his hand. The man turned to us. “Nice to meet you,” he said. “Rand Paul from Kentucky.”

“I am Shalzed,” Shalzed said. Paul stared at him expectantly. After an awkward silence Paul said, “You must both be awfully important if they let you in without ID badges.”

“We arrived a different way, not through downstairs,” I said, trying to laugh.

“I doubt you were able to parachute in through the window,” Paul said with a chuckle. He turned to Rubio. “Maybe some of the money we saved by withdrawing from those organizations ought to go towards State Department security.”

“It’s a form of tzedakah,” I said, as I had no idea how Shalzed could explain our arrival without getting us into all sorts of trouble. Rubio, Rand Paul, and Shalzed all gave me blank looks, and I realized I had used a Hebrew term. “Charity,” I told them. “A lot of the countries that benefit from these programs probably don’t have enough money to do these things themselves.”

Rand Paul waved a dismissive hand. “The U.S. is still a part of UNICEF and the World Food Programme,” he replied. “I never advocated against that. It’s just small bureaucracies that are ideologically driven and wasteful that we want to get out.”

“It’s only a miniscule part of the U.S. government’s budget,” Shalzed said.

“Let me tell you something,” Rand Paul said, turning towards us. “Imagine standing outside a gas station somewhere in Kentucky and asking folks as they walk by if they want their tax dollars going to the International Cotton Advisory Committee. Or the Venice Commission of the Council of Europe. Or the UN Permanent Forum on People of African Descent. Not one of them will say yes. Finally we have an administration that actually listens to the people.”

“It’s a lot more cost effective to resolve disputes in these forums than to risk them deteriorating into violence,” shalzed said.

“Exactly,” Rubio responded. “That’s what the United Nations General Assembly and Security Council are for. But no more unelected, unaccountable international bureaucracies pursuing their own agendas while the United States foots the bill.”

“I’m just curious,” Paul interrupted. “If you parachuted in, are you going to leave by parachute too? Because I think the fine gentlemen downstairs at the exit will be awfully concerned about your badges.”

“I have no worry,” Shalzed said simply.

Paul laughed. “If you have badges in your pocket you should take them out,” he said.

“And I think you should be going,” Rubio added.

I tugged Shalzed’s arm. “Time to leave,” I told him.

“Fine,” he said, not sounding happy. He turned to Rubio and Paul. “But most problems cannot be resolved by any one country. Aren’t international organizations the only way?”

“For that there are bilateral agreements,” Rubio said. “And I think I’ll call security, they’d like to see your badge.”

Just as he picked up his desk phone I was back in the black tunnel. I tried to concentrate on Marco Rubio’s face, to see if he had any reaction, but the transition was too fast. I wondered what he saw? A moment later I was in the synagogue kitchen, right in front of the cutting board with green onions waiting to be chopped.

I took a moment to get my bearings, then picked up the knife. Rabbi Shayerman came in and looked around. “I thought you were in a hurry,” he said to me.

“Right,” I said. He glanced at the onions waiting on the table, only half of the first one chopped. “I got a call on the phone,” I told him. That was at least partially true- Shalzed had called before he took me to Washington. But there was no way I could explain that.