The Book Thief(72)

Herr Link. This was his last chance. Herr Link, tell him, please. Tell him how poor I am.



The grocer looked at the teacher with inquiring eyes.



Herr Link stepped forward and said, Yes, Herr Mamer. This boy is poor. Hes from Himmel Street. 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. He has eight brothers and sisters.



Eight!



Rudy had to hold back a smile, though he wasnt in the clear yet. At least he had the teacher lying now. Hed somehow managed to add three more children to the Steiner family.



Often, he comes to school without breakfast, 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.



So that means he should be allowed to steal my potatoes?



The biggest one! one of the women ejaculated.



Keep quiet, Frau Metzing, 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 Mamerfrom best-looking to worstand exactly what made the grocer decide in Rudys 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, Dont come back.



From outside, Rudy looked on as Mamer reached the counter to serve his next customer with food and sarcasm. I wonder which potato youre going to ask for, he said, keeping one eye open for the boy.



For Rudy, it was yet another failure.



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 Mller was having his problems, and Franz Deutscher was just waiting for Rudy to step in. It didnt 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 werent quite finished. As Rudy slumped into the corner and flicked mud from his sleeve at the window, Franz fired the Hitler Youths favorite question at him.



When was our Fhrer, Adolf Hitler, born?



Rudy looked up. Sorry?



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 Fhrers birthday. He did seven 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. Hed 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 Tommys little sister, Kristina.



Lets run, Liesel urged him, but Rudy didnt move.



Were not at Hitler Youth now, he informed her. The older boys had already arrived. Liesel remained next to her friend, as did the twitching Tommy and the delicate Kristina.



Mr. Steiner, 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. Cant you make him feel it? 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 Deutschers 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 didnt. This time, he remained on the cold, wet ground, feeling it rise through his clothes and spread itself out.