The Book Thief(54)

The first event in the book was a murder. A stabbing. A Vienna street. Not far from the Stephansdomthe cathedral in the main square.





A SMALL EXCERPT FROM

THE WHISTLER

She lay there, frightened, in a pool of

blood, a strange tune singing in her

ear. She recalled the knife, in and

out, and a smile. As always, the

whistler had smiled as he ran away,

into a dark and murderous night. . . .





Liesel was unsure whether it was the words or the open window that caused her to tremble. Every time she picked up or delivered from the mayors house, she read three pages and shivered, but she could not last forever.



Similarly, Max Vandenburg could not withstand the basement much longer. He didnt complainhe had no rightbut he could slowly feel himself deteriorating in the cold. As it turned out, his rescue owed itself to some reading and writing, and a book called The Shoulder Shrug.



Liesel, said Hans one night. Come on.



Since Maxs arrival, there had been a considerable hiatus in the reading practice of Liesel and her papa. He clearly felt that now was a good time to resume. Na, komm, he told her. I dont want you slacking off. Go and get one of your books. How about The Shoulder Shrug?



The disturbing element in all of this was that when she came back, book in hand, Papa was motioning that she should follow him down to their old workroom. The basement.



But, Papa, she tried to tell him. We cant



What? Is there a monster down there?



It was early December and the day had been icy. The basement became unfriendlier with each concrete step.



Its too cold, Papa.



That never bothered you before.



Yes, but it was never this cold. . . .



When they made their way down, Papa whispered to Max, Can we borrow the lamplight, please?



With trepidation, the sheets and cans moved and the light was passed out, exchanging hands. Looking at the flame, Hans shook his head and followed it with some words. Es ist ja Wahnsinn, net? This is crazy, no? Before the hand from within could reposition the sheets, he caught it. Bring yourself, too. Please, Max.



Slowly then, the drop sheets were dragged aside and the emaciated body and face of Max Vandenburg appeared. In the moist light, he stood with a magic discomfort. He shivered.



Hans touched his arm, to bring him closer.



Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. You cannot stay down here. Youll freeze to death. He turned. Liesel, fill up the tub. Not too hot. Make it just like it is when it starts cooling down.



Liesel ran up.



Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.



She heard it again when she reached the hallway.



When he was in the pint-sized bath, Liesel listened at the washroom door, imagining the tepid water turning to steam as it warmed his iceberg body. Mama and Papa were at the climax of debate in the combined bedroom and living room, their quiet voices trapped inside the corridor wall.



Hell die down there, I promise you.



But what if someone sees in?



No, no, he only comes up at night. In the day, we leave everything open. Nothing to hide. And we use this room rather than the kitchen. Best to keep away from the front door.



Silence.



Then Mama. All right . . . Yes, youre right.



If we gamble on a Jew, said Papa soon after, I would prefer to gamble on a live one, and from that moment, a new routine was born.



Each night, the fire was lit in Mama and Papas room, and Max would silently appear. He would sit in the corner, cramped and perplexed, most likely by the kindness of the people, the torment of survival, and overriding all of it, the brilliance of the warmth.



With the curtains clamped tight, he would sleep on the floor with a cushion beneath his head, as the fire slipped away and turned to ash.



In the morning, he would return to the basement.



A voiceless human.



The Jewish rat, back to his hole.



Christmas came and went with the smell of extra danger. As expected, Hans Junior did not come home (both a blessing and an ominous disappointment), but Trudy arrived as usual, and fortunately, things went smoothly.





THE QUALITIES OF SMOOTHNESS

Max remained in the basement.

Trudy came and went without

any suspicion.





It was decided that Trudy, despite her mild demeanor, could not be trusted.



We trust only the people we have to, Papa stated, and that is the three of us.



There was extra food and the apology to Max that this was not his religion, but a ritual nonetheless.



He didnt complain.



What grounds did he have?



He explained that he was a Jew in upbringing, in blood, but also that Jewry was now more than ever a labela ruinous piece of the dumbest luck around.



It was then that he also took the opportunity to say he was sorry that the Hubermanns son had not come home. In response, Papa told him that such things were out of their control. After all, he said, you should know it yourselfa young man is still a boy, and a boy sometimes has the right to be stubborn.