When Peter finished his tirade, he flopped onto the ground and turned his back. He had been alarmed at how much Jesus’s interaction with the young girl had upset him. He could not define the emotions that quickened his blood whenever he thought of his friend doting on another. But he suspected that such an attachment was wrong. Perhaps even ungodly. And so he buried such feelings alongside his other secrets, hoping to keep them hidden.

When Jesus heard Peter’s breathing return to normal, he rolled over and let his thoughts drift again to the young girl. He had been taken aback by the powerful sense of peace that had passed between them. Standing before her, he had felt seen in a way that he had not been seen since the time with his mother. As if the truth of him were laid bare. And he no longer needed to hide.

That night, under the stars, sleep did not come easily to either boy.

And in the morning, neither dared speak of his dreams.

The day of their departure arrived. Jesus leapt up at a rooster’s insistent crowing, startling Anna. He wrapped his keffiyeh tightly around his head and nudged Peter awake with a foot.

The boys made their way to the main gates and stopped just inside to have tea. The vendor, whose skin matched the color of his roasted leaves, poured a high, thin stream of liquid from a silver samovar. Having slept poorly, Peter said little to his friend. He returned to the vendor for a second cup.

“Excuse me,” a voice said from behind.

Peter turned around as the shadow of a hulking man passed over him. His face was huge and round, like the moon.

“Was your brother not the boy who spoke yesterday at the Temple?” the man said, nodding toward Jesus.

Peter shrugged. “Perhaps, perhaps not,” he said vaguely.

The man grinned. His eyes drilled into Peter’s. With a grand motion, he swept his hand alongside the boy’s ear. When he withdrew it, a shiny coin twirled between his fingers.

Peter gasped in recognition. He was the magician they had watched in the alley!

“What do you want with Jesus?” he asked, taking his tea from the vendor.

“Ahh … Jesus,” the man pronounced slowly, as if he had heard the name before. He moved in close, alarmingly close, and whispered into Peter’s ear, “Your brother has a natural charm about him. It engages people and disarms them. If he were to become my assistant, I promise there would be great riches for you both.” He dangled the coin before Peter’s eyes.

But Peter only scowled. Still smarting from Jesus’s interaction with the girl, he was not about to let someone else steal him away. “Jesus is a shepherd, not a magician,” he told the man. He then spun on his heels and went to find his friend.

“Who was that?” Jesus asked.