I was watching an NBA play- in game when Shalzed rang the doorbell. I buzzed him up, then put the dirty pans I had left on the stovetop into a pile and shoved some dirty plates in the sink into the microwave while he came upstairs.

“I have some questions,” Shalzed said as he opened the door, holding a human rights textbook in his hand.

I glanced reflexively at the television. There was a commercial, and anyway it was almost halftime. “Okay,” I said, doubting I would really be able to help.

Shalzed followed my gaze, but remained staring at the screen. The commercial switched to a preview of the news, and it was showing a clip of Marco Rubio saying that the U.S. would never allow Iran to acquire nuclear weapons.

“Why not?” Shalzed asked, turning to me. “The U.S. and Israel have nuclear weapons. Why can’t Iran have them too?”

“Because they want to destroy us,” I said quickly.

Shalzed blinked his eyes three times, which by now I knew meant he was either surprised or thinking. “But the United States and Israel are the ones who just attacked Iran,” he said.

“Yes, but that was to stop them from attacking us in the future.” My phone rang, and I saw that it was my mom. “Do you mind if I answer?” I asked.

”When your transmitter boxes signal, aren’t you required to take action? I have never observed a human fail to do so.”

I smiled as I swiped. “Hello imma,” I said, putting the phone on speaker.

“I just wanted to ask if you’re bringing anyone Friday night,” my mom asked me.

I clicked my tongue. I had told my parents that I was going out with someone last Sunday, but it was just a first date from JDate. It hadn’t gone well, either, and by now I couldn’t even remember her name. But of course my mom already wanted to meet her. “No, mom,” I said. “Just me for Shabbat. But maybe you can help me explain to Shalzed why we can’t let Iran have a nuclear weapon.”

My family were the only ones I had told about Shalzed, since I had invited him to our seder. “What kind of a question?” my mom asked. “The Ayatollahs are crazy. You know the things they say. And they should have nuclear weapons?”

I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Like Trump isn’t crazy at all,” I said.

“At least we have a constitution. The President has to listen to the cabinet,” my mom said.

“Iran signed the non-proliferation treaty,” my dad added.

“Abba, I didn’t know you were on the line,” I said.

“I have you on speaker too,” my mom answered.

“When countries sign the treaty, they give up their right to build nuclear weapons.”

Shalzed frowned. “Did the U.S. sign?” he asked.

“Of course,” my dad said.

“So why does the U.S. have nuclear weapons?” Shalzed asked.

My dad was a college history professor, and his tone switched to explanation mode. “Because the treaty says that the five countries that had nukes before they signed could keep them, and the U.S. is one of those,” he said.

Shalzed frowned. “So the countries that got nukes first can keep them, but all the other countries are never allowed?” he asked.

“Exactly. Otherwise there would be a nuclear arms race as all the other countries tried for the bomb,” my dad replied.

“What about Israel?” I wondered.

“Israel never signed the treaty,” my dad said. “That’s why Israel isn’t violating anything if it develops nukes, but Iran is.”

I heard the doorbell chime in the background. “That’s probably Rosalie Goodman. Bridge starts in half an hour, but she always arrives early,” my mom said.

“Okay, have a good time,” I said. My mom loved playing bridge, mahjong, and every other sort of card game. It bored me to pieces.

I looked around the kitchen as my mom hung up. “Would you like something?” I asked. Shalzed was fascinated with Earth food.

He looked at a nearly empty bowl with just a few kernels of popcorn on the counter. I smiled. “I’ll make you some,” I said, taking a packet of microwave popcorn from a cabinet. Then I added, “Iran is devoted to Israel’s destruction. They give weapons to Hamas and Hezbollah. If they had the bomb, that would be the end.”

“So you think Iran isn’t responsible, but Trump is. And Iran has to follow a treaty that says five countries can have nukes but not any others, even though Israel went ahead and got nukes anyway, along with a bunch of others?”

I stood in place for a moment, thinking. “The point is that leaders who go around saying death to Israel and death to America shouldn’t have the bomb,” I told Shalzed.

“But it’s okay for the U.S., even though Trump just threatened to destroy all Iranian civilization?” he asked.

“That’s just the way Trump talks,” I said. “Everyone knows he’s not serious.”

“Are the Iranians sure he’s not serious?” Shalzed asked.

I didn’t know what to answer, so I opened the microwave. I was about to toss in the popcorn when I saw my dirty plates.

“How does radiation wash dishes?” shalzed asked, frowning.

“It doesn’t,” I told him.

“But then why. . .,” he began.

“There are some things I can’t explain,” I said, looking at the plates.

“Like why Iran can’t have nuclear weapons, while Israel and the U.S. can?” he asked.

I shrugged. “I feel much safer if they don’t.”

“Do you think they feel safer, too?” he asked.

I looked at the microwave, then back at Shalzed. I didn’t know what to say.