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"My hand!"
Rosa released her, and for comfort, to shut out the din of the bas.e.m.e.nt, Liesel opened one of her books and began to read. The book on top of the pile was The Whistler and she spoke it aloud to help her concentrate. The opening paragraph was numb in her ears.
"What did you say?" Mama roared, but Liesel ignored her. She remained focused on the first page.
When she turned to page two, it was Rudy who noticed. He paid direct attention to what Liesel was reading, and he tapped his brother and his sisters, telling them to do the same. Hans Hubermann came closer and called out, and soon, a quietness started bleeding through the crowded bas.e.m.e.nt. By page three, everyone was silent but Liesel.
She didn't dare to look up, but she could feel their frightened eyes hanging on to her as she hauled the words in and breathed them out. A voice played the notes inside her. This, it said, is your accordion.
The sound of the turning page carved them in half.
Liesel read on.
For at least twenty minutes, she handed out the story. The youngest kids were soothed by her voice, and everyone else saw visions of the whistler running from the crime scene. Liesel did not. The book thief saw only the mechanics of the words-their bodies stranded on the paper, beaten down for her to walk on. Somewhere, too, in the gaps between a period and the next capital letter, there was also Max. She remembered reading to him when he was sick. Is he in the bas.e.m.e.nt? she wondered. Or is he stealing a glimpse of the sky again?
A NICE THOUGHT.
One was a book thief.
The other stole the sky.
Everyone waited for the ground to shake.
That was still an immutable fact, but at least they were distracted now, by the girl with the book. One of the younger boys contemplated crying again, but Liesel stopped at that moment and imitated her papa, or even Rudy for that matter. She winked at him and resumed.
Only when the sirens leaked into the cellar again did someone interrupt her. "We're safe," said Mr. Jenson.
"Shhh!" said Frau Holtzapfel.
Liesel looked up. "There are only two paragraphs till the end of the chapter," she said, and she continued reading with no fanfare or added speed. Just the words.
DUDEN DICTIONARY MEANING #4.
Wort-Word:
A meaningful unit of
language / a promise / a
short remark, statement,
or conversation.
Related words: term,
name, expression.
Out of respect, the adults kept everyone quiet, and Liesel finished chapter one of The Whistler.
On their way up the stairs, the children rushed by her, but many of the older people-even Frau Holtzapfel, even Pfiffikus (how appropriate, considering the t.i.tle she read from)-thanked the girl for the distraction. They did so as they made their way past and hurried from the house to see if Himmel Street had sustained any damage.
Himmel Street was untouched.
The only sign of war was a cloud of dust migrating from east to west. It looked through the windows, trying to find a way inside, and as it simultaneously thickened and spread, it turned the trail of humans into apparitions.
There were no people on the street anymore.
They were rumors carrying bags.
At home, Papa told Max all about it. "There's fog and ash-I think they let us out too early." He looked to Rosa. "Should I go out? To see if they need help where the bombs dropped?"
Rosa was not impressed. "Don't be so idiotic," she said. "You'll choke on the dust. No, no, Saukerl, you're staying here." A thought came to her. She looked at Hans very seriously now. In fact, her face was crayoned with pride. "Stay here and tell him about the girl." Her voice loudened, just slightly. "About the book."
Max gave her some added attention.
"The Whistler," Rosa informed him. "Chapter one." She explained exactly what had happened in the shelter.
As Liesel stood in a corner of the bas.e.m.e.nt, Max watched her and rubbed a hand along his jaw. Personally, I think that was the moment he conceived the next body of work for his sketchbook.
The Word Shaker.
He imagined the girl reading in the shelter. He must have watched her literally handing out the words. However, as always, he must also have seen the shadow of Hitler. He could probably already hear his footsteps coming toward Himmel Street and the bas.e.m.e.nt, for later.
After a lengthy pause, he looked ready to speak, but Liesel beat him to it.
"Did you see the sky tonight?"
"No." Max looked at the wall and pointed. On it, they all watched the words and the picture he'd painted more than a year earlier-the rope and the dripping sun. "Only that one tonight," and from there, no more was spoken. Nothing but thoughts.
Max, Hans, and Rosa I cannot account for, but I know that Liesel Meminger was thinking that if the bombs ever landed on Himmel Street, not only did Max have less chance of survival than everyone else, but he would die completely alone.
FRAU HOLTZAPFEL'S OFFER In the morning, the damage was inspected. No one died, but two apartment blocks were reduced to pyramids of rubble, and Rudy's favorite Hitler Youth field had an enormous bowl spooned out of it. Half the town stood around its circ.u.mference. People estimated its depth, to compare it with their shelters. Several boys and girls spat into it.
Rudy was standing next to Liesel. "Looks like they need to fertilize again."
When the next few weeks were raid-free, life almost returned to normal. Two telling moments, however, were on their way.
THE DUAL EVENTS.
OF OCTOBER.
The hands of Frau Holtzapfel.
The parade of Jews.
Her wrinkles were like slander. Her voice was akin to a beating with a stick.
It was actually quite fortunate that they saw Frau Holtzapfel coming from the living room window, for her knuckles on the door were hard and decisive. They meant business.
Liesel heard the words she dreaded.
"You go and answer it," Mama said, and the girl, knowing only too well what was good for her, did as she was told.
"Is your mama home?" Frau Holtzapfel inquired. Constructed of fifty-year-old wire, she stood on the front step, looking back every so often to view the street. "Is that swine of a mother of yours here today?"
Liesel turned and called out.
DUDEN DICTIONARY MEANING #5.
Gelegenheit-Opportunity:
A chance for advancement or progress.