The Book Thief(19)

When she looked up again, the room was pulled apart, then squashed back together. All the kids were mashed, right before her eyes, and in a moment of brilliance, she imagined herself reading the entire page in faultless, fluency-filled triumph.





A KEY WORD

Imagined





Come on, Liesel!



Rudy broke the silence.



The book thief looked down again, at the words.



Come on. Rudy mouthed it this time. Come on, Liesel.



Her blood loudened. The sentences blurred.



The white page was suddenly written in another tongue, and it didnt help that tears were now forming in her eyes. She couldnt even see the words anymore.



And the sun. That awful sun. It burst through the windowthe glass was everywhereand shone directly onto the useless girl. It shouted in her face. You can steal a book, but you cant read one!



It came to her. A solution.



Breathing, breathing, she started to read, but not from the book in front of her. It was something from The Grave Diggers Handbook. Chapter three: In the Event of Snow. Shed memorized it from her papas voice.



In the event of snow, she spoke, you must make sure you use a good shovel. You must dig deep; you cannot be lazy. You cannot cut corners. Again, she sucked in a large clump of air. Of course, it is easier to wait for the warmest part of the day, when



It ended.



The book was snatched from her grasp and she was told. Lieselthe corridor.



As she was given a small Watschen, she could hear them all laughing in the classroom, between Sister Marias striking hand. She saw them. All those mashed children. Grinning and laughing. Bathed in sunshine. Everyone laughing but Rudy.



In the break, she was taunted. A boy named Ludwig Schmeikl came up to her with a book. Hey, Liesel, he said to her, Im having trouble with this word. Could you read it for me? He laugheda ten-year-old, smugness laughter. You Dummkopfyou idiot.



Clouds were filing in now, big and clumsy, and more kids were calling out to her, watching her seethe.



Dont listen to them, Rudy advised.



Easy for you to say. Youre not the stupid one.



Nearing the end of the break, the tally of comments stood at nineteen. By the twentieth, she snapped. It was Schmeikl, back for more. Come on, Liesel. He stuck the book under her nose. Help me out, will you?



Liesel helped him out, all right.



She stood up and took the book from him, and as he smiled over his shoulder at some other kids, she threw it away and kicked him as hard as she could in the vicinity of the groin.



Well, as you might imagine, Ludwig Schmeikl certainly buckled, and on the way down, he was punched in the ear. When he landed, he was set upon. When he was set upon, he was slapped and clawed and obliterated by a girl who was utterly consumed with rage. His skin was so warm and soft. Her knuckles and fingernails were so frighteningly tough, despite their smallness. You Saukerl. Her voice, too, was able to scratch him. You Arschloch. Can you spell Arschloch for me?



Oh, how the clouds stumbled in and assembled stupidly in the sky.



Great obese clouds.



Dark and plump.



Bumping into each other. Apologizing. Moving on and finding room.



Children were there, quick as, well, quick as kids gravitating toward a fight. A stew of arms and legs, of shouts and cheers grew thicker around them. They were watching Liesel Meminger give Ludwig Schmeikl the hiding of a lifetime. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, a girl commentated with a shriek, shes going to kill him!



Liesel did not kill him.



But she came close.



In fact, probably the only thing that stopped her was the twitchingly pathetic, grinning face of Tommy Mller. Still crowded with adrenaline, Liesel caught sight of him smiling with such absurdity that she dragged him down and started beating him up as well.



What are you doing?! he wailed, and only then, after the third or fourth slap and a trickle of bright blood from his nose, did she stop.



On her knees, she sucked in the air and listened to the groans beneath her. She watched the whirlpool of faces, left and right, and she announced, Im not stupid.



No one argued.



It was only when everyone moved back inside and Sister Maria saw the state of Ludwig Schmeikl that the fight resumed. First, it was Rudy and a few others who bore the brunt of suspicion. They were always at each other. Hands, each boy was ordered, but every pair was clean.



I dont believe this, the sister muttered. It cant be, because sure enough, when Liesel stepped forward to show her hands, Ludwig Schmeikl was all over them, rusting by the moment. The corridor, she stated for the second time that day. For the second time that hour, actually.



This time, it was not a small Watschen. It was not an average one. This time, it was the mother of all corridor Watschens, one sting of the stick after another, so that Liesel would barely be able to sit down for a week. And there was no laughter from the room. More the silent fear of listening in.



At the end of the school day, Liesel walked home with Rudy and the other Steiner children. Nearing Himmel Street, in a hurry of thoughts, a culmination of misery swept over herthe failed recital of The Grave Diggers Handbook, the demolition of her family, her nightmares, the humiliation of the dayand she crouched in the gutter and wept. It all led here.