Somewhere in the world, there is one person who knows the whereabouts of every Jew on Earth Author’s note: In this fanfic, there may be generalizations, most of them aimed at Jews. The thing is that I can do that because I am Jewish. Sort of like Woody Allen.

I had a Bat Mitzvah, I’m in BBYO, I have gone to Tamarack every summer for seven years straight, I skip school on Rosh Hashanah and fast on Yom Kippur, and I know the joke about David Ben-Gurion sneezing in Martin Luther King’s navel, and no, it doesn’t translate. My entire family is Jewish, and my great-grandfather on my dad’s side was in the Purple Gang. So don’t mess with me, OK? Thank you.

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The B’Nai Brith Mutants

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By Nova Adams

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Somewhere in the world, there is one person who knows the whereabouts of every Jew on Earth. They may be a little old man in a yarmulke, or an overzealous BBG girl, or a blue-haired matron who still remembers everyone she ever played Mahjongg with; they may be situated in an apartment in Israel, or a dusty old library at the JCC in Detroit, or in an apple juice-stained Hillel preschool.

Whoever that one person is, they work for the United Jewish Association. And somehow they found Magneto.

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It was a perfectly innocent piece of paper. It came in a slim envelope with the UJA seal on the cover. It was addressed to "Mr. Eric Lenscherr, a.k.a. Magneto, at Secret Brotherhood Of Mutants Hideout."

It was even weirder because they didn’t even have a mailbox. Mystique swore that it had just been lying on the kitchen table when she walked in to make breakfast.

Magneto turned the letter over and over in his slim white fingers. A simple enough missive, the duplicate of millions of others sent out.

Asking for a pledge. That was easy enough. He had more money than anyone else needed.

Toad peered over his shoulder. "What the hell is that?"

Magneto wiped away the glob of slime that had gotten on the letter. "A form letter. Nothing more."

"Why?" grunted Sabretooth.

Magneto sighed. "Well, the letter is from the United Jewish Association. I’m Jewish."

"Huh." Sabretooth looked as though he was deep in thought. "Me, I’m Buddhist."

Magneto had honestly never thought about the religious affiliations of his minions. "What? Why?"

Sabretooth shrugged. "Dunno."

Mystique twined her arms around Magneto’s neck. "You still haven’t had breakfast," she cooed. "Do you want me to make you scrambled eggs?"

Magneto pushed her away. "I could really go for a salt bagel with cream cheese and lox," he murmured.

Toad licked his lips. "That sounds good. Lots of salt…"

Mystique glared at him. "I only make breakfast for the master. You, Toad, can have cold cereal." She scurried into the kitchen. "Is Lender’s okay?" she called innocently.

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The best temple in the world to go to is Temple Israel, in West Bloomfield. And the author is not saying that just because she is a member.

The service was just starting as Eric grabbed a yarmulke and slipped into the sanctuary. He sat down in the last seat in the last row on the far right and bowed his head, trying to look inconspicuous.

Everyone rose for the Shema, and Eric was surprised to find himself rising along with them. As he sang the Hebrew words, he was struck by the feeling of…well, belonging that possessed him. He was here for exactly the same purpose as everyone else—to listen to the service.

A small girl walked up to the bima and chanted the Torah portion in a wavering voice. Then she shuffled some papers, and said,

"In my Torah portion, Lech Lecha, God calls Abraham to go out into the world and establish his own community, finding people that believe in the same thing he does. I can relate to that because I am a mutant, and I have been searching for people like me for ages. Fortunately, I have the support of all my friends and family, who accept me for who I am."

Eric listened as the girl talked about when she first realized she was a mutant, and her struggle for acceptance at her school. She had accidentally turned her chemistry textbook into a block of chocolate. (Laughter.) Her chemistry teacher had used that incident to demonstrate the theory of quantum uncertainty, and then charged her 25 dollars for a new book. (More laughter.) She still wasn’t sure exactly what her power was, and what that signified, but she was working on it.

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Eric pushed through the crowd surrounding the new Bat Mitzvah. At the center of it was a small girl with curly brown hair, a faint grin, and the biggest hazel eyes he had ever seen.

He smiled at her. "You did a wonderful job, er—" She hadn’t really, but that’s what you were supposed to say to a Bat Mitzvah, wasn’t it? That’s what everyone had said at his Bar Mitzvah.

"Rachel Weisserman." She reached up to shake his hand. "I’m not sure I know you…"

"Eric Lenscherr. I just came for services." Eric studied her intently. She didn’t look at all like a mutant. Then again, most mutants didn’t. "I was very impressed by your speech. That took a lot of courage, just coming out and telling everyone that you’re…er…different."

Rachel blushed. "Well, pretty much everyone knows it already," she said. "I mean, practically my whole BBG chapter, Lailot, is mutant."

Eric nodded knowledgeably. "Mutant discrimination."

Rachel looked puzzled. "No, it’s just the chapter that most of the mutants join. Sort of like how Achayot has all the artsy girls, and Bruach has most of the athletes. Not everyone in Lailot is a mutant, and not all of the mutants are in Lailot."

Eric blinked. "Oh. Er…"

Rachel favored him with a slightly patronizing smile. "Were you in BBYO when you were a teenager?"

Eric shook his head. "When I was a teenager, I was in the concentration camps."

Rachel gazed at him in awe. "Really? Wow…I’ve never met anyone that was in the Holocaust."

Eric shrugged. "It was not pleasant."

Rachel looked around. "Listen," she said, lowering her voice, "I know you weren’t invited to the party, but do you want to come anyway? Everyone in Lailot will be there, and I can get my grandma to print up another nameplate and stuff. She runs Deborah’s Invitations."

Eric felt horrible. This charming, innocent, Jewish girl was inviting him to her big party. If he went, Toad and Sabretooth and Mystique would probably insist on coming, crash the party, and make a spectacle of themselves. They might even see it as some kind of fight, and kill people.

On the other hand, it would be a good chance to meet mutant teens who hadn’t been brainwashed by Charles Xavier. And she was a very nice girl. And he hadn’t been to a party in so long…

"Count me in," he said.

Rachel beamed and gave him directions.

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