Galen thought his heart would burst from sheer fright as the soldier’s fingers started to lift the edge of Goliath’s shield. Galen drew his feet under him in the vain hope that he might surprise the men so much, he could jump up and run out of range of either an arrow or spear before they could react.

“Wait!” he heard the younger man exclaim. “I saw it first, so that shield is mine!”

The deep-voiced man angrily growled, “Who do you think you’re talking to?”

“You, that’s who! I want his shield!”

Galen heard the older man growl again, “So do I, so you can’t have it! Now leave me alone before —”

He broke off as Galen heard the distinctive sound of a sword being pulled from its scabbard. The fingers disappeared from the edge of the shield. It fell heavily, again leaving Galen in semidarkness. He caught the sound of a second sword being swiftly drawn from its scabbard.

The older man roared, “Pull a blade on me, will you? You fool! Now I’ll take both the shield and your life!”

The ring of swords striking each other confirmed to Galen that the two soldiers were attacking each other. With furious shouts and loud panting, they pressed their assaults. Galen didn’t know whether to crawl out from under the shield and try to run away or wait to learn what happened.

He remained still, listening to the clash of the life-or-death struggle that surged back and forth around his hiding place. Slowly, numb with fright, Galen realized that the fight was moving away from him.

After taking a minute longer to be sure, with sudden hope he risked raising the edge of the great shield. The two men were so involved in their fight that all their attention was on each other.

Still, Galen hesitated, debating what to do. If he ran, they might see him, stop their combat, and bring him down with a javelin or arrow. But if he stayed hidden, what then? Surely the victor would come to claim the shield. He would be discovered, and a soldier who had just fought to the death with one of his own kind would surely not spare an enemy Philistine boy.

He took another rapid peek at the combatants. They had dropped their swords and were rolling around on the ground, too busy to notice him.

Once again Galen called out to Reuben’s invisible God. “Save me!”

At the same time, he strained to lift the edge of Goliath’s shield farthest away from the men. Frantic to escape, Galen wiggled out into the open and quickly got to his feet. Bending low, he ran awkwardly toward the darkening shadows of the Valley of Elah.

The shouting and cursing of the two combatants told Galen that they still hadn’t seen him. He didn’t look back but felt his shoulder muscles tighten at the thought of an arrow striking him. He fled at his greatest possible speed across the valley toward the Israelite camp. Galen’s lungs were on fire, and his breathing was so tortured it came in rasping gasps before he decided he was out of bow-shot range.

He slowed his desperate pace and looked back. There were no shouts of anyone chasing him. Greatly relieved, he took a moment to catch his breath. He had left one danger behind, but another loomed ahead.

Nervously, his eyes swept the Israelite camp. He was relieved to see that no soldiers had returned. There weren’t even any young men, just old men and boys.

When none of them seemed to notice him, he started walking again. He was surprised that he staggered from exhaustion. He was aware of a painful stitch in his side that he hadn’t noticed before. Cautiously, trying to control his suddenly wobbly legs, he walked on while his eyes flickered ahead in hopes of seeing Reuben.

Galen encouraged himself by thinking, If I can just reach him, I’ll be all right. I’ll ask him to go with me to his parents. He said they had taken in other orphans; maybe they’ll take me in too. I’ll work hard for —

He was jerked out of his musings by a shout from the Israelite camp. “Philistine! Philistine coming!”

A boy pointed toward him, screaming his warning over and over. Other boys ran to see too. They joined in shouting, “Philistine!”

In moments a crowd had almost miraculously formed, facing him. A few older boys arrived late and pushed their way to the front of the crowd. These teenagers were armed with sticks, stones, and slings. Some elderly men, moving slowly with age, arrived with farmers’ sickles, forks, and axes.

Now so exhausted that he could barely stay on his feet, Galen lurched toward the Israelites. They were silent, their faces grim as they gripped their stones and weapons.

Galen frantically scanned the growing crowd for Reuben but didn’t see him. Intimidated, he hesitated, his hands dropping wearily to his sides.

In his excitement, he had forgotten the image of Dagon carried in his tunic. Plunging his hand inside, Galen held up the carving of the Philistines’ national deity. For a moment he studied the carving of half-man, half-fish and recalled Reuben’s laughing remarks when he had first seen it by the brook.

That’s Dagon? That silly little thing is your god who you think can help you?

The words silently echoed in Galen’s memory, along with what Reuben had said about the God of the Israelites sending someone to defeat Goliath.

Reuben was right, Galen admitted to himself. He gazed thoughtfully down at Dagon’s image. This visible Philistine god hadn’t helped him, not a bit. Abruptly, mustering his remaining strength, Galen drew back his arm and hurled the object into the Valley of Elah.

Raising his eyes to the sky, Galen confessed his fears and hopes to Reuben’s invisible but powerful God, who had sent a shepherd boy to overcome Goliath.

Galen whispered hoarsely, “Reuben’s God, hear me! I’m afraid these people lined up over there will kill me because I’m a Philistine, but I have no place else to go! I was wrong about Dagon, and Reuben was right. You are the true Source of power!”

Pausing, Galen added, “It doesn’t matter anymore that Goliath thought I wasn’t strong or that he would never be proud of me. It doesn’t matter that I couldn’t even lift his shield off the ground. Now I know that carrying Goliath’s shield and killing people aren’t what make a man; it’s what he is inside. You used Reuben, a boy like me, to show that You are the only true God. If You’re willing to use me, I’m ready and I’m willing. I want to be in Your family, to serve You and grow up to be a man that You’ll be proud of! But I can’t if these people stone me! I need help!”

A voice called from the crowd of Israelites, “Galen? Is that you?”

“Reuben!” Galen joyfully exclaimed and forced his weary legs to run toward his friend.

Reuben raced to meet him, threw his arms around him, and exclaimed with a happy grin, “Welcome, Galen!”

Galen’s weariness seemed to melt away in his joyous reunion. He thumped Reuben on the back and fought back tears of happiness. He couldn’t stop the tremor in his voice as he blurted out his thoughts from a full heart.

“I’ve never been so glad to see anyone in my life! I threw away Dagon and asked your God to let me serve Him! I want to be a part of His family. I was afraid of those people watching me, but I told your God that I trusted Him because you said He would send someone to overcome Goliath. So now I can’t go back over there,” he pointed across the Valley of Elah. “I have no one but you to turn to!”

Reuben grinned and grabbed Galen’s arm, saying, “Come with me.” He turned away, pulling on Galen.

“Where are we going?” Galen asked, glancing doubtfully at the Israelites watching the boys as they moved through the camp.

Over his shoulder Reuben explained, “To see my father. He’ll welcome you —and so will my mother when we get home.”

Galen exclaimed, “Really?”

Reuben stopped and smiled reassuringly. “Really!”

Staring, Galen cried, “You mean you think they’ll take me in and give me a real home?”

Reuben’s arm slid across Galen’s shoulders. “I know they will. Not only that, but you’ll be my brother!”

Laughing happily, the boys broke into a run.