โWell?โ Rudy asked.
Liesel swiveled slowly and hurried off. โNot today,โ she said. Rudy laughed.
โI knew it.โ He caught up. โI knew it, you filthy Saumensch. You couldnโt get in there even if you had the key.โ
โDo you mind?โ She quickened even more and brushed aside Rudyโs commentary. โWe just have to wait for the right opportunity.โ Internally, she shrugged away from a kind of gladness that the window was closed. She berated herself. Why, Liesel? she asked. Why did you have to explode when they fired Mama? Why couldnโt you just keep your big mouth shut? For all you know, the mayorโs wife is now completely reformed after you yelled and screamed at her. Maybe sheโs straightened herself out, picked herself up. Maybe sheโll never let herself shiver in that house again and the window will be shut forever โฆ. You stupid Saumensch!
A week later, however, on their fifth visit to the upper part of Molching, it was there.
The open window breathed a slice of air in.
That was all it would take.
It was Rudy who stopped first. He tapped Liesel in the ribs, with the back of his hand. โIs that window,โ he whispered, โopen?โ The eagerness in his voice leaned from his mouth, like a forearm onto Lieselโs shoulder.
โJawohl,โ she answered. โIt sure is.โ
And how her heart began to heat.
โข โข โข
On each previous occasion, when they found the window clamped firmly shut, Lieselโs outer disappointment had masked a ferocious relief. Would she have had the neck to go in? And who and what, in fact, was she going in for? For Rudy? To locate some food?
No, the repugnant truth was this:
She didnโt care about the food. Rudy, no matter how hard she tried to resist the idea, was secondary to her plan. It was the book she wanted. The Whistler. She wouldnโt tolerate having it given to her by a lonely, pathetic old woman. Stealing it, on the other hand, seemed a little more acceptable. Stealing it, in a sick kind of sense, was like earning it.
The light was changing in blocks of shade.
The pair of them gravitated toward the immaculate, bulky house. They rustled their thoughts.
โYou hungry?โ Rudy asked.
Liesel replied. โStarving.โ For a book.
โLookโa light just came on upstairs.โ
โI see it.โ
โStill hungry, Saumensch?โ
They laughed nervously for a moment before going through the motions of who should go in and who should stand watch. As the male in the operation, Rudy clearly felt that he should be the aggressor, but it was obvious that Liesel knew this place. It was she who was going in. She knew what was on the other side of the window.
She said it. โIt has to be me.โ
Liesel closed her eyes. Tightly.
She compelled herself to remember, to see visions of the mayor and his wife. She watched her gathered friendship with Ilsa Hermann and made sure to see it kicked in the shins and left by the wayside. It worked. She detested them.
They scouted the street and crossed the yard silently.
Now they were crouched beneath the slit in the window on the ground floor. The sound of their breathing amplified.
โHere,โ Rudy said, โgive me your shoes. Youโll be quieter.โ
Without complaint, Liesel undid the worn black laces and left the shoes on the ground. She rose up and Rudy gently opened the window just wide enough for Liesel to climb through. The noise of it passed overhead, like a low-flying plane.
Liesel heaved herself onto the ledge and tussled her way inside. Taking off her shoes, she realized, was a brilliant idea, as she landed much heavier on the wooden floor than sheโd anticipated. The soles of her feet expanded in that painful way, rising to the inside edges of her socks.
The room itself was as it always was.
Liesel, in the dusty dimness, shrugged off her feelings of nostalgia. She crept forward and allowed her eyes to adjust.
โWhatโs going on?โ Rudy whispered sharply from outside, but she waved him a backhander that meant Haltโs Maul. Keep quiet.
โThe food,โ he reminded her. โFind the food. And cigarettes, if you can.โ
Both items, however, were the last things on her mind. She was home, among the mayorโs books of every color and description, with their silver and gold lettering. She could smell the pages. She could almost taste the words as they stacked up around her. Her feet took her to the right-hand wall. She knew the one she wantedโthe exact positionโbut when she made it to The Whistlerโs usual place on the shelf, it was not there. A slight gap was in its place.
From above, she heard footsteps.
โThe light!โ Rudy whispered. The words were shoved through the open window. โItโs out!โ
โScheisse.โ
โTheyโre coming downstairs.โ
There was a giant length of a moment then, the eternity of split-second decision. Her eyes scanned the room and she could see The Whistler, sitting patiently on the mayorโs desk.
โHurry up,โ Rudy warned her. But very calmly and cleanly, Liesel walked over, picked up the book, and made her way cautiously out. Headfirst, she climbed from the window, managing to land on her feet again, feeling the pang of pain once more, this time in her ankles.
โCome on,โ Rudy implored her. โRun, run. Schnell!โ
Once around the corner, on the road back down to the river and Munich Street, she stopped to bend over and recover. Her body was folded in the middle, the air half frozen in her mouth, her heart tolling in her ears.
Rudy was the same.
When he looked over, he saw the book under her arm. He struggled to speak. โWhatโsโโhe grappled with the wordsโโwith the book?โ
The darkness was filling up truly now. Liesel panted, the air in her throat defrosting. โIt was all I could find.โ
Unfortunately, Rudy could smell it. The lie. He cocked his head and told her what he felt was a fact. โYou didnโt go in for food, did you? You got what you wanted โฆ.โ
Liesel straightened then and was overcome with the sickness of another realization.
The shoes.
She looked at Rudyโs feet, then at his hands, and at the ground all around him.
โWhat?โ he asked. โWhat is it?โ
โSaukerl,โ she accused him. โWhere are my shoes?โ Rudyโs face whitened, which left her in no doubt. โTheyโre back at the house,โ she suggested, โarenโt they?โ
Rudy searched desperately around himself, begging against all reality that he might have brought them with him. He imagined himself picking them up, wishing it trueโbut the shoes were not there. They sat uselessly, or actually, much worse, incriminatingly, by the wall at 8 Grande Strasse.
โDummkopf!โ he admonished himself, smacking his ear. He looked down shamefully at the sullen sight of Lieselโs socks. โIdiot!โ It didnโt take him long to decide on making it right. Earnestly, he said, โJust wait,โ and he hurried back around the corner.
โDonโt get caught,โ Liesel called after him, but he didnโt hear.
The minutes were heavy while he was gone.
Darkness was now complete and Liesel was quite certain that a Watschen was most likely in the cards when she returned home. โHurry,โ she murmured, but still Rudy didnโt appear. She imagined the sound of a police siren throwing itself forward and reeling itself in. Collecting itself.
Still, nothing.
Only when she walked back to the intersection of the two streets in her damp, dirty socks did she see him. Rudyโs triumphant face was held nicely up as he trotted steadily toward her. His teeth were gnashed into a grin, and the shoes dangled from his hand. โThey nearly killed me,โ he said, โbut I made it.โ Once theyโd crossed the river, he handed Liesel the shoes, and she threw them down.
Sitting on the ground, she looked up at her best friend. โDanke,โ she said. โThank you.โ
Rudy bowed. โMy pleasure.โ He tried for a little more. ๏ฟฝ
๏ฟฝ๏ฟฝNo point asking if I get a kiss for that, I guess?โ
โFor bringing my shoes, which you left behind?โ
โFair enough.โ He held up his hands and continued speaking as they walked on, and Liesel made a concerted effort to ignore him. She only heard the last part. โProbably wouldnโt want to kiss you anywayโnot if your breathโs anything like your shoes.โ
โYou disgust me,โ she informed him, and she hoped he couldnโt see the escaped beginnings of a smile that had fallen from her mouth.
On Himmel Street, Rudy captured the book. Under a lamppost, he read out the title and wondered what it was about.
Dreamily, Liesel answered. โJust a murderer.โ
โIs that all?โ
โThereโs also a policeman trying to catch him.โ
Rudy handed it back. โSpeaking of which, I think weโre both slightly in for it when we get home. You especially.โ
โWhy me?โ
โYou knowโyour mama.โ
โWhat about her?โ Liesel was exercising the blatant right of every person whoโs ever belonged to a family. Itโs all very well for such a person to whine and moan and criticize other family members, but they wonโt let anyone else do it. Thatโs when you get your back up and show loyalty. โIs there something wrong with her?โ
Rudy backed away. โSorry, Saumensch. I didnโt mean to offend you.โ
Even in the night, Liesel could see that Rudy was growing. His face was lengthening. The blond shock of hair was darkening ever so slightly and his features seemed to be changing shape. But there was one thing that would never change. It was impossible to be angry at him for long.
โAnything good to eat at your place tonight?โ he asked.
โI doubt it.โ
โMe neither. Itโs a shame you canโt eat books. Arthur Berg said something like that once. Remember?โ
They recounted the good old days for the remainder of the walk, Liesel often glancing down at The Whistler, at the gray cover and the black imprinted title.
Before they went into their respective homes, Rudy stopped a moment and said, โGoodbye, Saumensch.โ He laughed. โGood night, book thief.โ
It was the first time Liesel had been branded with her title, and she couldnโt hide the fact that she liked it very much. As weโre both aware, sheโd stolen books previously, but in late October 1941, it became official. That night, Liesel Meminger truly became the book thief.
THREE ACTS OF STUPIDITY BY RUDY STEINER
RUDY STEINER, PURE GENIUS
1. He stole the biggest potato from Mamerโs, the local grocer.
2. Taking on Franz Deutscher on Munich Street.
3. Skipping the Hitler Youth meetings altogether.
The problem with Rudyโs first act was greed. It was a typically dreary afternoon in mid-November 1941.
Earlier, heโd woven through the women with their coupons quite brilliantly, almost, dare I say it, with a touch of criminal genius. He nearly went completely unnoticed.
Inconspicuous as he was, however, he managed to take hold of the biggest potato of the lotโthe very same one that several people in the line had been watching. They all looked on as a thirteen-year-old fist rose up and grabbed it. A choir of heavyset Helgas pointed him out, and Thomas Mamer came storming toward the dirty fruit.
โMeine Erdรคpfel,โ he said. โMy earth apples.โ
The potato was still in Rudyโs hands (he couldnโt hold it in just the one), and the women gathered around him like a troop of wrestlers. Some fast talking was required.
โMy family,โ Rudy explained. A convenient stream of clear fluid began to trickle from his nose. He made a point of not wiping it away. โWeโre all starving. My sister needed a new coat. The last one was stolen.โ
Mamer was no fool. Still holding Rudy by the collar, he said, โAnd you plan to dress her with a potato?โ
โNo, sir.โ He looked diagonally into the one eye he could see of his captor. Mamer was a barrel of a man, with two small bullet holes to look out of. His teeth were like a soccer crowd, crammed in. โWe traded all our points for the coat three weeks ago and now we have nothing to eat.โ
The grocer held Rudy in one hand and the potato in the other. He called out the dreaded word to his wife. โPolizei.โ
โNo,โ Rudy begged, โplease.โ He would tell Liesel later on that he was not the slightest bit afraid, but his heart was certainly bursting at that moment, Iโm sure. โNot the police. Please, not the police.โ
โPolizei.โ Mamer remained unmoved as the boy wriggled and fought with the air.
Also in the line that afternoon was a teacher, Herr Link. He was in the percentage of teachers at school who were not priests or nuns. Rudy found him and accosted him in the eyes.
โHerr Link.โ This was his last chance. โHerr Link, tell him, please. Tell him how poor I am.โ
The grocer looked at the teacher with inquiring eyes.
Herr Link stepped forward and said, โYes, Herr Mamer. This boy is poor. Heโs from Himmel Street.โ The crowd of predominantly women conferred at that point, knowing that Himmel Street was not exactly the epitome of idyllic Molching living. It was well known as a relatively poor neighborhood. โHe has eight brothers and sisters.โ
Eight!
Rudy had to hold back a smile, though he wasnโt in the clear yet. At least he had the teacher lying now. Heโd somehow managed to add three more children to the Steiner family.
โOften, he comes to school without breakfast,โ and the crowd of women was conferring again. It was like a coat of paint on the situation, adding a little extra potency and atmosphere.
โSo that means he should be allowed to steal my potatoes?โ
โThe biggest one!โ one of the women ejaculated.
โKeep quiet, Frau Metzing,โ Mamer warned her, and she quickly settled down.
At first, all attention was on Rudy and the scruff of his neck. It then moved back and forth, from the boy to the potato to Mamerโfrom best-looking to worstโand exactly what made the grocer decide in Rudyโs favor would forever be unanswered.
Was it the pathetic nature of the boy?
The dignity of Herr Link?
The annoyance of Frau Metzing?
Whatever it was, Mamer dropped the potato back on the pile and dragged Rudy from his premises. He gave him a good push with his right boot and said, โDonโt come back.โ
From outside, Rudy looked on as Mamer reached the counter to serve his next customer with food and sarcasm. โI wonder which potato youโre going to ask for,โ he said, keeping one eye open for the boy.
For Rudy, it was yet another failure.
โข โข โข
The second act of stupidity was equally dangerous, but for different reasons.
Rudy would finish this particular altercation with a black eye, cracked ribs, and a haircut.
Again, at the Hitler Youth meetings, Tommy Mรผller was having his problems, and Franz Deutscher was just waiting for Rudy to step in. It didnโt take long.
Rudy and Tommy were given another comprehensive drill session while the others went inside to learn tactics. As they ran in the cold, they could see the warm heads and shoulders through the windows. Even when they joined the rest of the group, the drills werenโt quite finished. As Rudy slumped into the corner and flicked mud from his sleeve at the window, Franz fired the Hitler Youthโs favorite question at him.
โWhen was our Fรผhrer, Adolf Hitler, born?โ
Rudy looked up. โSorry?โ
The question was repeated, and the very stupid Rudy Steiner, who knew all too well that it was April 20, 1889, answered with the birth of Christ. He even threw in Bethlehem as an added piece of information.
Franz smeared his hands together.
A very bad sign.
He walked over to Rudy and ordered him back outside for some more laps of the field.
Rudy ran them alone, and after every lap, he was asked again the date of the Fรผhrerโs birthday. He did seve
n laps before he got it right.
The major trouble occurred a few days after the meeting.
On Munich Street, Rudy noticed Deutscher walking along the footpath with some friends and felt the need to throw a rock at him. You might well ask just what the hell he was thinking. The answer is, probably nothing at all. Heโd probably say that he was exercising his God-given right to stupidity. Either that, or the very sight of Franz Deutscher gave him the urge to destroy himself.
The rock hit its mark on the spine, though not as hard as Rudy might have hoped. Franz Deutscher spun around and looked happy to find him standing there, with Liesel, Tommy, and Tommyโs little sister, Kristina.
โLetโs run,โ Liesel urged him, but Rudy didnโt move.
โWeโre not at Hitler Youth now,โ he informed her. The older boys had already arrived. Liesel remained next to her friend, as did the twitching Tommy and the delicate Kristina.
โMr. Steiner,โ Franz declared, before picking him up and throwing him to the pavement.
When Rudy stood up, it served only to infuriate Deutscher even more. He brought him to the ground for a second time, following him down with a knee to the rib cage.
Again, Rudy stood up, and the group of older boys laughed now at their friend. This was not the best news for Rudy. โCanโt you make him feel it?โ the tallest of them said. His eyes were as blue and cold as the sky, and the words were all the incentive Franz needed. He was determined that Rudy would hit the ground and stay there.
A larger crowd made its way around them as Rudy swung at Franz Deutscherโs stomach, missing him completely. Simultaneously, he felt the burning sensation of a fist on his left eye socket. It arrived with sparks, and he was on the ground before he even realized. He was punched again, in the same place, and he could feel the bruise turn yellow and blue and black all at once. Three layers of exhilarating pain.
The developing crowd gathered and leered to see if Rudy might get up again. He didnโt. This time, he remained on the cold, wet ground, feeling it rise through his clothes and spread itself out.
The sparks were still in his eyes, and he didnโt notice until it was too late that Franz now stood above him with a brand-new pocketknife, about to crouch down and cut him.
