Shocked, Galen automatically drew back the club in the darkness and then hesitated. “Reuben!” Galen exclaimed, keeping his voice low so the Israelite sentries wouldn’t hear him. “I didn’t expect to see you!”

“I’m very late getting the water skins filled, and I’m very surprised to see you too!”

“I see.” Galen quickly lowered the club, hoping Reuben hadn’t seen it.

Reuben apparently hadn’t because he asked, “Didn’t you get safely back to your camp last night?”

“Yes. I had to come back to . . . to . . .” He let his voice trail off.

Reuben prompted, “To what?”

“Uh . . .” Galen muttered, trying to think fast. He couldn’t tell Reuben that Goliath had instructed him to hit an Israelite over the head and bring back proof that it hurt. Yet in the same instant, Galen felt the weight of the club in his hand and realized that this was his opportunity.

He could strike the unsuspecting boy before him, take something personal from his fallen body, and vanish back into the valley. It would take only seconds, and then Galen could quietly return in triumph to show Goliath. That would earn the giant’s respect and prove that Galen could be a good Philistine soldier who would someday carry Goliath’s shield ahead of him into battle.

But the thought of hitting Reuben sickened Galen. He knew that would be wrong.

“Well?” Reuben asked. “Why did you come back?”

“I . . . uh . . .” Galen stammered while his mind spun with possible excuses he might offer.

He told himself, My tribe is threatening his people, but he and I aren’t at war. It would be wrong to harm someone —especially Reuben —just to prove something to Goliath.

Reuben stepped closer, saying, “What’s the matter? Why can’t you tell me?”

Galen didn’t reply while his mind wildly plunged on. I feel so helpless! If I go back without doing something to an Israelite, Goliath will laugh at me! I’ll never get to be a man and carry his shield! Besides, everyone else will think I’m a coward, and I’ll be disgraced forever!

Reuben turned so that his face was faintly visible in the reflected light of the distant campfires. Smiling, he said, “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want. We can just talk.”

Galen nodded, greatly relieved at the reprieve. He knew his problem wasn’t solved, but maybe he could think of a way to handle it. Still, he was so upset that he didn’t feel like talking. He needed action.

“Or we could have another play fight,” he countered, realizing that instead of wanting to harm Reuben, he wanted to be friends.

“Too dark,” Reuben replied. “We might hurt each other. But we could play war. One of us can hide while the other tries to find him. You know, like a spy sneaking up on a sentry. All right?”

Galen agreed. “You want to be the sentry or the spy?”

“Sentry,” Reuben promptly replied.

“Good!” Galen replied. “Just stay away from the campfire lights. I don’t want anyone to see me.” Galen turned to face the valley’s darkness but listened to the soft rustling sounds as Reuben ran to hide.

Galen was dismayed when another thought popped into his head. This would be the perfect opportunity to make Goliath proud of me! I could —

“Stop it!” he muttered aloud. He silently added, I couldn’t do something so terrible!

A little voice inside his head taunted him, Are you sure? Maybe you’ll change your mind! Isn’t that better than being thought of as a coward? Galen shook his head and began looking for Reuben.

Galen’s nighttime search involved sneaking up on bushes, large rocks, and a few trees where the “sentry” might be watching for the infiltrating “spy.” Galen, trained to become a Philistine warrior from his youngest years, had learned one way to find someone in darkness.

He dropped down low to quickly scan the horizon. Against its faint light, he barely discerned Reuben’s form pressed up against a tree trunk.

Using all the stealth skills he had learned, Galen tiptoed in back of Reuben. Silent as a shadow, with the club in his hands, Galen rose up just behind the unsuspecting boy.

It would be so easy! Galen realized, and then, disgusted with himself, he threw the club down.

The sound made Reuben jump and whirl around. “You’re good, Galen!” he admitted with a nervous laugh. “I didn’t hear or see you!”

Galen felt around in the darkness and retrieved his club. “Thanks, but I don’t like this game. Let’s just talk.”

“Fine! You can give me some tips on how you sneaked up on me like that.”

Galen headed toward the sound of the brook. “I’d rather talk about something else.”

“Like what?”

Galen didn’t answer until they were back beside the water skins, where the murmur of running water helped to cover their voices. “Tell me about your family.” It wasn’t what Galen really wanted to know, but he didn’t feel like coming out directly with what he did want.

“I already told you just about everything. Except I don’t think I mentioned that my parents adopted two little foreign kids after their mother and father died near our camp.”

Galen asked, “Why did they do that? And why did you bring me food instead of turning me in to your soldiers?”

“Well, a long, long time ago,” Reuben began, “my people were slaves in Egypt. Our God led us out of slavery and gave us this land where we are now. In the book of the law, He told us that we were not to do wrong to a stranger, because we had been strangers in Egypt.”

Those were curious ideas to Galen. Dagon, his god, had never told anyone anything, as far as Galen knew. He asked Reuben, “Is that why you brought me food and didn’t turn me in even though our people are enemies?”

“Our God trusts us,” Reuben explained, “and He welcomes anyone who trusts in Him. I did that with you.”

“Oh!” Ashamed, Galen eased the club head to the ground and opened his fingers to let it fall. He heard a light splash where it landed in the brook.

Galen took several seconds to ponder something before he spoke again. “Can your God make men?”

Laughing softly, Reuben spoke with assurance. “Of course! He created everyone, including you and me, and He will help both of us grow up to be good men.”

Galen turned those words over and over in his mind as he said good-bye to Reuben and started across the Valley of Elah under cover of darkness. He didn’t know how he could explain to Goliath why he hadn’t struck an Israelite and brought back proof.

Maybe Dagon . . . he started to think and lightly touched the carved image snuggled against his side. The national god of the Philistines hadn’t ever given instructions to be nice to strangers. In fact, from what Galen knew, Dagon was primarily believed to be responsible for growing grain and other crops. How could a carved image help a boy become a real man?

Galen’s thoughts were momentarily interrupted as he imagined what Goliath would say when he reported on his second experience inside Israelite lines. The thought scared him so that he suddenly shivered. He flinched as he visualized Goliath’s fury turning from angry words to powerful slaps with immense hands.

With an effort, Galen forced his mind back to more pleasant thoughts about the God of Reuben. Crossing the Valley of Elah under a star-splattered sky, Galen looked up. He wondered if Reuben’s God was truly the most powerful of all gods, or even if there were any other gods.

Galen whispered, “The God of Reuben’s people, if You are the only God, and I find out that You have all power and might, I will follow You. And I want You to make me a man.”

He paused and then added silently, And I can’t really wait until I grow up, because tomorrow Goliath is going to make me wish I had never been born!