The Book Thief(77)

MAX VANDENBURGS VISITOR

SCORE SHEET

Hans Hubermann: 2

Rosa Hubermann: 2

Liesel Meminger: 3





In the morning, Liesel brought him his sketchbook from the basement and placed it on the bedside table. She felt awful for having looked at it the previous year, and this time, she kept it firmly closed, out of respect.



When Papa came in, she did not turn to face him but talked across Max Vandenburg, at the wall. Why did I have to bring all that snow down? she asked. It started all of this, didnt it, Papa? She clenched her hands, as if to pray. Why did I have to build that snowman?



Papa, to his enduring credit, was adamant. Liesel, he said, you had to.



For hours, she sat with him as he shivered and slept.



Dont die, she whispered. Please, Max, just dont die.



He was the second snowman to be melting away before her eyes, only this one was different. It was a paradox.



The colder he became, the more he melted.





THIRTEEN PRESENTS





It was Maxs arrival, revisited.



Feathers turned to twigs again. Smooth face turned to rough. The proof she needed was there. He was alive.



The first few days, she sat and talked to him. On her birthday, she told him there was an enormous cake waiting in the kitchen, if only hed wake up.



There was no waking.



There was no cake.





A LATE-NIGHT EXCERPT

I realized much later that I actually visited

33 Himmel Street in that period of time.

It must have been one of the few moments when the

girl was not there with him, for all I saw was a

man in bed. I knelt. I readied myself to insert

my hands through the blankets. Then there was a





resurgencean immense struggle against my weight.

I withdrew, and with so much work ahead of me,

it was nice to be fought off in that dark little room.

I even managed a short, closed-eyed pause of

serenity before I made my way out.





On the fifth day, there was much excitement when Max opened his eyes, if only for a few moments. What he predominantly saw (and what a frightening version it must have been close-up) was Rosa Hubermann, practically slinging an armful of soup into his mouth. Swallow, she advised him. Dont think. Just swallow. As soon as Mama handed back the bowl, Liesel tried to see his face again, but there was a soup-feeders backside in the way.



Is he still awake?



When she turned, Rosa did not have to answer.



After close to a week, Max woke up a second time, on this occasion with Liesel and Papa in the room. They were both watching the body in the bed when there was a small groan. If its possible, Papa fell upward, out of the chair.



Look, Liesel gasped. Stay awake, Max, stay awake.



He looked at her briefly, but there was no recognition. The eyes studied her as if she were a riddle. Then gone again.



Papa, what happened?



Hans dropped, back to the chair.



Later, he suggested that perhaps she should read to him. Come on, Liesel, youre such a good reader these dayseven if its a mystery to all of us where that book came from.



I told you, Papa. One of the nuns at school gave it to me.



Papa held his hands up in mock-protest. I know, I know. He sighed, from a height. Just . . . He chose his words gradually. Dont get caught. This from a man whod stolen a Jew.



From that day on, Liesel read The Whistler aloud to Max as he occupied her bed. The one frustration was that she kept having to skip whole chapters on account of many of the pages being stuck together. It had not dried well. Still, she struggled on, to the point where she was nearly three-quarters of the way through it. The book was 396 pages.



In the outside world, Liesel rushed from school each day in the hope that Max was feeling better. Has he woken up? Has he eaten?



Go back out, Mama begged her. Youre chewing a hole in my stomach with all this talking. Go on. Get out there and play soccer, for Gods sake.



Yes, Mama. She was about to open the door. But youll come and get me if he wakes up, wont you? Just make something up. Scream out like Ive done something wrong. Start swearing at me. Everyone will believe it, dont worry.



Even Rosa had to smile at that. She placed her knuckles on her hips and explained that Liesel wasnt too old yet to avoid a Watschen for talking in such a way. And score a goal, she threatened, or dont come home at all.



Sure, Mama.



Make that two goals, Saumensch!



Yes, Mama.



And stop answering back!



Liesel considered, but she ran onto the street, to oppose Rudy on the mud-slippery road.



About time, ass scratcher. He welcomed her in the customary way as they fought for the ball. Where have you been?



Half an hour later, when the ball was squashed by the rare passage of a car on Himmel Street, Liesel had found her first present for Max Vandenburg. After judging it irreparable, all of the kids walked home in disgust, leaving the ball twitching on the cold, blistered road. Liesel and Rudy remained stooped over the carcass. There was a gaping hole on its side like a mouth.