The Book Thief(118)

They all looked back several times, but there was still no Frau Holtzapfel.



The road seemed so wide, and when the final siren evaporated into the air, the last three people on Himmel Street made their way into the Fiedlers basement.



What took you so long? Rudy asked. He was holding the toolbox.



Liesel placed her bag of books on the ground and sat on them. We were trying to get Frau Holtzapfel.



Rudy looked around. Where is she?



At home. In the kitchen.



In the far corner of the shelter, Michael was cramped and shivery. I should have stayed, he said, I should have stayed, I should have stayed. . . . His voice was close to noiseless, but his eyes were louder than ever. They beat furiously in their sockets as he squeezed his injured hand and the blood rose through the bandage.



It was Rosa who stopped him.



Please, Michael, its not your fault.



But the young man with only a few remaining fingers on his right hand was inconsolable. He crouched in Rosas eyes.



Tell me something, he said, because I dont understand. . . . He fell back and sat against the wall. Tell me, Rosa, how she can sit there ready to die while I still want to live. The blood thickened. Why do I want to live? I shouldnt want to, but I do.



The young man wept uncontrollably with Rosas hand on his shoulder for many minutes. The rest of the people watched. He could not make himself stop even when the basement door opened and shut and Frau Holtzapfel entered the shelter.



Her son looked up.



Rosa stepped away.



When they came together, Michael apologized. Mama, Im sorry, I should have stayed with you.



Frau Holtzapfel didnt hear. She only sat with her son and lifted his bandaged hand. Youre bleeding again, she said, and with everyone else, they sat and waited.



Liesel reached into her bag and rummaged through the books.





THE BOMBING OF MUNICH,

MARCH 9 AND 10

The night was long with bombs

and reading. Her mouth was

dry, but the book thief worked

through fifty-four pages.





The majority of children slept and didnt hear the sirens of renewed safety. Their parents woke them or carried them up the basement steps, into the world of darkness.



Far away, fires were burning and I had picked up just over two hundred murdered souls.



I was on my way to Molching for one more.



Himmel Street was clear.



The sirens had been held off for many hours, just in case there was another threat and to allow the smoke to make its way into the atmosphere.



It was Bettina Steiner who noticed the small fire and the sliver of smoke farther down, close to the Amper River. It trailed into the sky and the girl held up her finger. Look.



The girl might have seen it first, but it was Rudy who reacted. In his haste, he did not relinquish his grip on the toolbox as he sprinted to the bottom of Himmel Street, took a few side roads, and entered the trees. Liesel was next (having surrendered her books to a heavily protesting Rosa), and then a smattering of people from several shelters along the way.



Rudy, wait!



Rudy did not wait.



Liesel could only see the toolbox in certain gaps in the trees as he made his way through to the dying glow and the misty plane. It sat smoking in the clearing by the river. The pilot had tried to land there.



Within twenty meters, Rudy stopped.



Just as I arrived myself, I noticed him standing there, recovering his breath.



The limbs of trees were scattered in the dark.



There were twigs and needles littered around the plane like fire fuel. To their left, three gashes were burned into the earth. The runaway ticktock of cooling metal sped up the minutes and seconds till they were standing there for what felt like hours. The growing crowd was assembling behind them, their breath and sentences sticking to Liesels back.



Well, said Rudy, should we take a look?



He stepped through the remainder of trees to where the body of the plane was fixed to the ground. Its nose was in the running water and the wings were left crookedly behind.



Rudy circled slowly, from the tail and around to the right.



Theres glass, he said. The windshield is everywhere.



Then he saw the body.



Rudy Steiner had never seen a face so pale.



Dont come, Liesel. But Liesel came.



She could see the barely conscious face of the enemy pilot as the tall trees watched and the river ran. The plane let out a few more coughs and the head inside tilted from left to right. He said something they obviously could not understand.



Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, Rudy whispered. Hes alive.



The toolbox bumped the side of the plane and brought with it the sound of more human voices and feet.



The glow of fire was gone and the morning was still and black. Only the smoke was in its way, but it, too, would soon be exhausted.



The wall of trees kept the color of a burning Munich at bay. By now, the boys eyes had adjusted not only to the darkness, but to the face of the pilot. The eyes were like coffee stains, and gashes were ruled across his cheeks and chin. A ruffled uniform sat, unruly, across his chest.