The bitter taste of questions. One toolbox, one bleeder, one bear

THE BITTER TASTE OF QUESTIONS

 
 Just over a week after Liesels birthday in mid-February, she and Rosa finally received a detailed letter from Hans Hubermann. She ran inside from the mailbox and showed it to Mama. Rosa made her read it aloud, and they could not contain their excitement when Liesel read about his broken leg. She was stunned to the extent that she mouthed the next sentence only to herself.
 
 What is it? Rosa pushed. Saumensch?
 
 Liesel looked up from the letter and was close to shouting. The sergeant had been true to his word. Hes coming home, Mama. Papas coming home!
 
 They embraced in the kitchen and the letter was crushed between their bodies. A broken leg was certainly something to celebrate.
 
 When Liesel took the news next door, Barbara Steiner was ecstatic. She rubbed the girls arms and called out to the rest of her family. In their kitchen, the household of Steiners seemed buoyed by the news that Hans Hubermann was returning home. Rudy smiled and laughed, and Liesel could see that he was at least trying. However, she could also sense the bitter taste of questions in his mouth.
 
 Why him?
 
 Why Hans Hubermann and not Alex Steiner?
 
 He had a point.
 
 
 
  

ONE TOOLBOX, ONE BLEEDER, ONE BEAR

 
 Since his fathers recruitment to the army the previous October, Rudys anger had been growing nicely. The news of Hans Hubermanns return was all he needed to take it a few steps further. He did not tell Liesel about it. There was no complaining that it wasnt fair. His decision was to act.
 
 He carried a metal case up Himmel Street at the typical thieving time of darkening afternoon.
 

RUDYS TOOLBOX
 It was patchy red and the
 length of an oversized shoe box.
 It contained the following:
 Rusty pocketknife 1
 Small flashlight 1
 Hammer 2
 (one medium, one small)
 Hand towel 1
 Screwdriver 3
 (varying in size)
 Ski mask 1
 Clean socks 1
 Teddy bear 1
 

 
 Liesel saw him from the kitchen windowhis purposeful steps and committed face, exactly like the day hed gone to find his father. He gripped the handle with as much force as he could, and his movements were stiff with rage.
 
 The book thief dropped the towel she was holding and replaced it with a single thought.
 
 Hes going stealing.
 
 She ran out to meet him.
 
 There was not even the semblance of a hello.
 
 Rudy simply continued walking and spoke through the cold air in front of him. Close to Tommy Mllers apartment block, he said, You know something, Liesel, I was thinking. Youre not a thief at all, and he didnt give her a chance to reply. That woman lets you in. She even leaves you cookies, for Christs sake. I dont call that stealing. Stealing is what the army does. Taking your father, and mine. He kicked a stone and it clanged against a gate. He walked faster. All those rich Nazis up there, on Grande Strasse, Gelb Strasse, Heide Strasse.
 
 Liesel could concentrate on nothing but keeping up. Theyd already passed Frau Dillers and were well onto Munich Street. Rudy
 
 How does it feel, anyway?
 
 How does what feel?
 
 When you take one of those books?
 
 At that moment, she chose to keep still. If he wanted an answer, hed have to come back, and he did. Well? But again, it was Rudy who answered, before Liesel could even open her mouth. It feels good, doesnt it? To steal something back.
 
 Liesel forced her attention to the toolbox, trying to slow him down. What have you got in there?
 
 He bent over and opened it up.
 
 Everything appeared to make sense but the teddy bear.
 
 As they kept walking, Rudy explained the toolbox at length, and what he would do with each item. For example, the hammers were for smashing windows and the towel was to wrap them up, to quell the sound.
 
 And the teddy bear?
 
 It belonged to Anna-Marie Steiner and was no bigger than one of Liesels books. The fur was shaggy and worn. The eyes and ears had been sewn back on repeatedly, but it was friendly looking nonetheless.
 
 That, answered Rudy, is the one masterstroke. Thats if a kid walks in while Im inside. Ill give it to them to calm them down.
 
 And what do you plan to steal?
 
 He shrugged. Money, food, jewelry. Whatever I can get my hands on. It sounded simple enough.
 
 It wasnt until fifteen minutes later, when Liesel watched the sudden silence on his face, that she realized Rudy Steiner wasnt stealing anything. The commitment had disappeared, and although he still watched the imagined glory of stealing, she could see that now he was not believing it. He was trying to believe it, and thats never a good sign. His criminal greatness was unfurling before his eyes, and as the footsteps slowed and they watched the houses, Liesels relief was pure and sad inside her.
 
 It was Gelb Strasse.
 
 On the whole, the houses sat dark and huge.
 
 Rudy took off his shoes and held them with his left hand. He held the toolkit with his right.
 
 Between the clouds, there was a moon. Perhaps a mile of light.
 
 What am I waiting for? he asked, but Liesel didnt reply. Again, Rudy opened his mouth, but without any words. He placed the toolbox on the ground and sat on it.
 
 His socks grew cold and wet.
 
 Lucky theres another pair in the toolbox, Liesel suggested, and she could see him trying not to laugh, despite himself.
 
 Rudy moved across and faced the other way, and there was room for Liesel now as well.
 
 The book thief and her best friend sat back to back on a patchy red toolbox in the middle of the street. Each facing a different way, they remained for quite a while. When they stood up and went home, Rudy changed his socks and left the previous ones on the road. A gift, he decided, for Gelb Strasse.
 

THE SPOKEN TRUTH
 OF RUDY STEINER
 I guess Im better at leaving
 things behind than stealing them.
 

 
 A few weeks later, the toolbox ended up being good for at least something. Rudy cleared it of screwdrivers and hammers and chose instead to store in it many of the Steiners valuables for the next air raid. The only item that remained was the teddy bear.
 
 On March 9, Rudy exited the house with it when the sirens made their presence felt again in Molching.
 
 While the Steiners rushed down Himmel Street, Michael Holtzapfel was knocking furiously at Rosa Hubermanns door. When she and Liesel came out, he handed them his problem. My mother, he said, and the plums of blood were still on his bandage. She wont come out. Shes sitting at the kitchen table.
 
 As the weeks had worn on, Frau Holtzapfel had not yet begun to recover. When Liesel came to read, the woman spent most of the time staring at the window. Her words were quiet, close to motionless. All brutality and reprimand were wrested from her face. It was usually Michael who said goodbye to Liesel or gave her the coffee and thanked her. Now this.
 
 Rosa moved into action.
 
 She waddled swiftly through the gate and stood in the open doorway. Holtzapfel! There was nothing but sirens and Rosa. Holtzapfel, get out here, you miserable old swine! Tact had never been Rosa Hubermanns strong point. If you dont come out, were all going to die here on the street! She turned and viewed the helpless figures on the footpath. A siren had just finished wailing. What now?
 
 Michael shrugged, disoriented, perplexed. Liesel dropped her bag of books and faced him. She shouted at the commencement of the next siren. Can I go in? But she didnt wait for the answer. She ran the short distance of the path and shoved past Mama.
 
 Frau Holtzapfel was unmoved at the table.
 
 What do I say? Liesel thought.
 
 How do I get her to move?
 
 When the sirens took another breath, she heard Rosa calling out. Just leave her, Liesel, we have to go! If she wants to die, thats her business, but then the sirens resumed. They reached down and tossed the voice away.
 
 Now it was only noise and girl and wiry woman.
 
 Frau Holtzapfel, please!
 
 Much like her conversation with Ilsa Hermann on the day of the cookies, a multitude of words and sentences were at her fingertips. The difference was that today there were bombs. Today it was slightly more urgent.
 

THE OPTIONS

 
 Frau Holtzapfel, we have to go.
 
 Frau Holtzapfel, well die if we stay here.
 
 You still have one son left.
 
 Everyones waiting for you.
 
 The bombs will blow your head off.
 
 If you dont come, Ill stop coming to read to you, and that means youve lost your only friend.
 
 She went with the last sentence, calling the words directly through the sirens. Her hands were planted on the table.
 
 The woman looked up and made her decision. She didnt move.
 
 Liesel left. She withdrew herself from the table and rushed from the house.
 
 Rosa held open the gate and they started running to number forty-five. Michael Holtzapfel remained stranded on Himmel Street.
 
 Come on! Rosa implored him, but the returned soldier hesitated. He was just about to make his way back inside when something turned him around. His mutilated hand was the only thing attached to the gate, and shamefully, he dragged it free and followed.
 
 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.
 
 Despite Rudys advice, Liesel came even closer, and I can promise you that we recognized each other at that exact moment.
 
 I know you, I thought.
 
 There was a train and a coughing boy. There was snow and a distraught girl.
 
 Youve grown, I thought, but I recognize you.
 
 She did not back away or try to fight me, but I know that something told the girl I was there. Could she smell my breath? Could she hear my cursed circular heartbeat, revolving like the crime it is in my deathly chest? I dont know, but she knew me and she looked me in my face and she did not look away.
 
 As the sky began to charcoal toward light, we both moved on. We both observed the boy as he reached into his toolbox again and searched through some picture frames to pull out a small, stuffed yellow toy.
 
 Carefully, he climbed to the dying man.
 
 He placed the smiling teddy bear cautiously onto the pilots shoulder. The tip of its ear touched his throat.
 
 The dying man breathed it in. He spoke. In English, he said, Thank you. His straight-line cuts opened as he spoke, and a small drop of blood rolled crookedly down his throat.
 
 What? Rudy asked him. Was hast du gesagt? What did you say?
 
 Unfortunately, I beat him to the answer. The time was there and I was reaching into the cockpit. I slowly extracted the pilots soul from his ruffled uniform and rescued him from the broken plane. The crowd played with the silence as I made my way through. I jostled free.
 
 Above me, the sky eclipsedjust a last moment of darkness and I swear I could see a black signature in the shape of a swastika. It loitered untidily above.
 
 Heil Hitler, I said, but I was well into the trees by then. Behind me, a teddy bear rested on the shoulder of a corpse. A lemon candle stood below the branches. The pilots soul was in my arms.
 
 Its probably fair to say that in all the years of Hitlers reign, no person was able to serve the Fhrer as loyally as me. A human doesnt have a heart like mine. The human heart is a line, whereas my own is a circle, and I have the endless ability to be in the right place at the right time. The consequence of this is that Im always finding humans at their best and worst. I see their ugly and their beauty, and I wonder how the same thing can be both. Still, they have one thing I envy. Humans, if nothing else, have the good sense to die.