“I told the truth, and they asked if the person was Palestinian; if it was a woman or a man; if the person was dead or alive. I uttered the word ‘soldiers’ and they didn’t ask anything more,” Bilal said. Instead they offered him an old black T-shirt one woman had brought to recycle as a rag. He put it on over his bloody shirt. The women packed up their bread and unbaked dough, draped a shawl over Bilal, and walked to their village, where they helped him clean up, washed his clothes, gave him clean ones, and, when it was dark, put him in a taxi to his village. Loading him with fruits, vegetables, and fresh bread, they bade him farewell in front of the driver, as if he had been there all day on an errand for his mother. His wet clothes were tucked at the bottoms of those bags.

“It was late by the time I got home. Our mother was worried I’d been picked up by the military.” Bilal sucked air through his teeth. “Immi just kissed me and started offering up gratitude and dua’a to God, more intensely than usual. Like she knew something was wrong.”

I could imagine Hajjeh Um Mhammad’s dua’as: “May God bless you, my sons. May He keep you safe always. O Lord, watch over my boys. Keep their path free of evil… .” I had heard her daily beg the heavens for her sons and for me. “A mother’s dua’as are precious to God’s ears,” she would say.

Mhammad was already home. Bilal found him in the valley downhill from their house, standing over a fire in a metal barrel. “I walked through the darkness toward him. He turned his face to me, half-illuminated by the flames. We stared at one another for a long while. Didn’t say anything, but we communicated in here.” Bilal put his hand over his heart. “Then he reached for the bundle of clothes in my hand, told me he had already burned his.”

I wanted to hear the rest of this secret, but the sky was dimming around us. Jandal called to the sheep, and they rose, hurrying toward their shepherd’s voice.

“It amazes me every time to see this.” Bilal watched the flock. “Sheep are nearly blind, but they can distinguish sounds. Jandal’s voice is their security. They will always go to him. I could make the same call, but they wouldn’t respond.”