An Israeli Merkava tank and a Centurion drove out of Taibe compound and clanked down the road to the central square a few days ago.
Beside the foetid "cholera pool" for watering animals, beneath the windows of Dr Sharafeddine's clinic, the Israelis turned, gouging deep track marks in the asphalt.
They approached the gate of a Finnish UNIFIL position and then, without ever showing their faces, returned to base.
Why, all Taibe wondered, for the first time in more than five years, did the Israelis take a leisurely spin around the village in daytime?
"I think maybe the driver knew he was going home and wanted a last look, or some souvenir pictures," a shopkeeper shrugged, as he looked at the tank tracks.
Sure enough, during the night of May 14th to 15th, the Israelis sneaked out of the compound they built 15 years ago, but before leaving they turned it over to their allies in the South Lebanon Army (SLA) militia.
The Israelis' last little jaunt through Taibe is the least of the mysteries facing this depleted village with its dynamited houses and untrusting population.
For what dark purpose has one of Israel's local collaborators recently daubed numbers - the western numerals that Israelis use - on many of the buildings in Taibe? To facilitate future raids, kidnappings or assassinations?
The SLA men want to know whether, after they receive their last $500 (£431) packets at the end of this month, their Israeli paymasters will keep a promise of tens of thousands of dollars in "severance pay".
There is a rumour that Israel is backing out of the commitment on the grounds the money is needed to repair damage done to northern Israel by Hizbullah Katyusha rockets in the first week of May.
Before Israel established its present occupation zone in 1985, 15,000 people lived in Taibe. They number 1,500 Shia Muslims now, most very young or very old. The Israelis have extended their domestic espionage organisation, the General Security Service (GSS) or Shin Bet, into southern Lebanon.
Any villager in Taibe will tell you that Abdel Darwish, also known as Abou Rabieh, is the head GSS man here, responsible for recruiting local people to inform on the Hizbullah, the Lebanese government and UNIFIL.
Those who refuse are often arrested and sent to prison in Khiam, one village away. Or their relatives are sent to Khiam. Or they are expelled from the occupied zone for ever.
Ali never leaves his home in Taibe now. Because he and his brothers refused to work for the GSS, they were imprisoned at Khiam.
After the ill-treatment he suffered there, Ali lives in fear. "I don't visit anyone," he says. "I never use the telephone. I ask my wife or sister to order supplies for our shop, and to call our relatives in Beirut."
Before Ali knew the Israelis were leaving, he planned to send his eldest son to Beirut: it is not uncommon for boys as young as 14 to be forced into service with the Israeli-backed militia.
Now fear of retribution permeates life in Taibe. Most of those who worked in hotels or restaurants in northern Israel have given up their jobs. Grocery-store shelves are bare because shopkeepers don't want to be caught with Hebrew-labelled products when the occupation ends.
They will not accept $100 bills from SLA men, because many of the banknotes are counterfeits reportedly made in northern Israel, and because they do not want to be accused of trading with collaborators.
Ali says he wants vengeance against the SLA men who harmed him and his family. "I don't have a gun, but I want to hit the men who spit on me and beat me."
If Taibe is really liberated - and that means the disbanding of the SLA, too - Ali and his wife say they will dance in the streets.
But if the Israeli pullout turns violent, Ali has another plan. "I have a fast car. If they start bombing, I will take my wife and children and get the hell out."